Imran YousufSilence never let me linger lonely, but silently confessing, suffering is a blessing.
Cure is found in the pain—there’s no need for dressing—suffering is a blessing.
Hollow nights never bring peace, only anxiety all around,
Yet under the stars, even the dark keeps yelling—suffering is a blessing.
My hope was almost lost when I fell into the world of chaos,
But heart and soul kept screaming—suffering is a blessing.
Agony, torment, misery—like fire in the chest—
Yet my duty is to endure while unfolding—suffering is a blessing.
A voice within gently said, “Come, here is the caravan,”
So I no longer run from such revealing—suffering is a blessing.
I knocked on the door of stillness and found destiny;
The ultimate truth is none but final reckoning—suffering is a blessing.
He no longer pens of pleasure, bliss, or ecstasy—
For Imran, every dot is awakening: suffering is a blessing.
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Image: Srujan Raj
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Rohith
Mahua Sen
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Aritrik Dutta Chowdhury
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