The pitch-black sky blew
The downpour,
How many of us are indomitable,
Slippery field in the mud and a football
Cold air on a cloudy day
During the pouring rain
I remember those days
Playing with rain in childhood
Luxury with rain is a "born luxury" of Bengalis. As soon as he saw the rain, the poet started writing poems in his mind. The style of the poem is different for each person! Some sit down with paper and pen to sing the praises of another's housewife, ex-lover, some write in their minds longing for Taheri Begum of the house next door, some keep themselves busy to increase the collection of Rabindra Sangeet. Lazy people think, aha ... wouldn't it be great if I could get a nap with kantha muri. Although sleeping with kantha muri is a good thing, it is not bad to enjoy the rain from time to time. Sometimes the poet's "on a day like this, on such a day, in such a heavy rain ..." the mind is agitated, but no one can say what else can be said.
The sky is crying, the mind is crying, crying in the pouring rain.
Friend, come back ... dream come true
Pay off the rain today ... All the debt of love
Friend, I am sitting alone, giving a cloud of hope and despair
Pay off the rain today ... All the debt of love
And is Akash dreamless like me?
Pay off the rain today ... All the debt of love
Come back my friend ... give me a dream
Pay off the rain today ... All the debt of love.
When nature becomes restless in the heat of summer. Fields and ghats are scorched in the scorching sun, life is hot in the heat, the floor is dry. When the thirsty craving for the rain of Chatak. The human mind also humbly prays to the Creator, may Allah give me clouds, give me water, give me shade .... Then to fill the thirsty nature with nectar, the drizzle of rain, a lot of liveliness and the fragrance of Kadam flower brings the favorite season of Bengal.
When it rains, nature gets dressed up. In the thirsty heart, in the flower-tree, in the leaf-leaf it gives new life. Anklet's feet are soaked in the torrential downpour of Jhumur Jhumur. The doba-nala-matha-ghat-pukur-bil-haor of Bengal was washed away by the rain. The rain soaked the human mind with simultaneous joy-pain and detachment in the gurgling stream.
Birds sit quietly on the branches of the trees, between the leaves. Desolate fields and ghats, deserted roads and deserts. Sometimes standing on the side of a deserted road, the white cow of a bewildered shepherd is soaking wet. Raindrops in village ponds or rivers create gray fog particles. Water froze in the yard. It flows down a slope called the turbid stream of water. The children's minds became absorbed in the pool. Suddenly they tore the paper and made a paper boat. He floated the boat in the yard water.
Thai thai water. Float again in the rivers and canals filled with water. In the canal, the band of robbers floats on the banana tree and walks around with joy in their minds. The boys and girls of the village swam hapus in the muddy water of the pond. Everything is washed and cleaned in this Tapur Tupur rain. Then the smell of wet soil is how the mind becomes. I think my mother and mother are big.
In the rain water, canals, ditches, biljheels, mud of rivers and streams, small and big species of fish hidden in the bottom of the water come out. Flowers are intoxicated by the smell of Kadam, Keya, Jasmine, Jasmine flowers. The green form of fresh plants makes Bangladesh look beautiful. Nature and the environment are filled with greenery.
Rain brings the tide of love in the human mind along with lasciviousness. Floating in that tide, the poets express their longing for love in their poems. Not only in the separation of love, but also in the poems of the poets, sometimes the rain has come in the description of the beauty of nature, sometimes in the memorable nostalgia of childhood and adolescence. Rain is therefore the catalyst of unmixed love, a lingua franca of desire and longing.
There is no end to the number of songs, stories, poems and rhymes written about the monsoon. Bengali love poem using rain. Rabindranath has established the rain among us with absolute love and compassion. As soon as the rain came, another emotion struck the poet. Life, the bond of life, the backwardness of the world then became secondary to the poet. The torrential rain is called the lover's cry to the poet. So the poet wants to wash away all the sorrows, pains and sadness in the rain. The beauty of the depths of the rain, the longing of the heart, the variety, the rhythm and the rhythm have all flooded this nature lover. That is why one of the poems of the poet is filled with thrill in the touch of rain or the deep shadow of the clouds. Not only poetry, the poet has composed songs, rhymes, stories and even life memoirs about the monsoon.
Poet Nazrul's poems also show rain in symbolic connotations. The rain clouds seemed to provoke his grief even more. That is why through his poems he considered the bird of the rainy night as a friend and wanted to unite his separation with separation. He thought of the rain as the driver of his sorrow. That may be the reason why the longing of the poet falls in the rainy season.
In the poems of the poet Michael Madhusudan Dutt, the nature of rain and human nature have become one. Similarly, in the poems of rural poets Jasim Uddin, Al Mahmud, Syed Samsul Haque, poet Omar Ali, Nirmalendu Gun, Asad Chowdhury and other contemporary poets of Bengal, the rain worship has become impeccable. In the rain, people's hearts seem to be overwhelmed by an unknown call of love. So many people call the rainy season as the season of love.

Our love for rain dates back to ancient times. The rain makes us laugh, cry and be overwhelmed with emotion. Unique love frozen in the rain. So on a rainy day, the rain is like the season of our love-separation-love. Barsha means the song of Jalnupur, Barsha means the world wet with water, Barsha means a romantic Bangladesh with rain.
When it rains, I think of my childhood,
The pain of touching the wire as much as you can't find it;
I would float those paper boats in the water,
Wherever he went, he would sway in the water;
Today it will rain again, the wounds will be washed away,
As much as there is a deposit in the warm heart day by day.
When I was young, I used to make a toy boat out of paper and float it in the rain water. I met the strong attraction of veggies in the rain for the first time in my life when I was seven years old. It's raining outside and at home we two sisters are scrambling to get wet in the rain. Mother was sleeping. It was a good time but Bersik did not knock on the high door. Even standing on the chair, my length was reduced. At last he took his younger sister by the neck, stood on a chair, opened the door, and ran to the roof. I don't remember how long I got wet because my mother's long rain continued to fall on our backs with the rain outside that day. However, I still could not get over the strange taste of rain that I got.
In that small village with a small memory
Standing on the field in the wet rain,
I used to run together with many friends
Exceeding rivers, canals and beels.
I ran away in my childhood with memories,
In the rough life without the touch of rain
Think about it, where will this happiness be?
When you go to the village, it feels great to hear the sound of rain on the tin roof. The sound of rain on the tin rice makes a different swing in my mind. Now I have no choice but to sit at home and watch the rain through the window. But if you have a cup of hot smoked tea, a beautiful book and light volume Rabindra Sangeet. Dia! What else does it take?

When I went to the village as a child, I used to play in the rain in the yard. What a lonely situation he was in the mud. When I was a child, I used to see people fishing. I used to sit on the water with a string tied to my head, but not a single fish would come up. When I fell I realized how stupid I felt. Once in the rain, fish came up from the pond in front of our house in Jamalpur. My little mama and I went fishing in the rain with our hands. What a fun time that was.
One drop of rain
দেয় Lets dance in the pond.
Geometry has no compass needle
Drawing a thousand circles.
When it rains, Ban calls to the village rivers
But the people of Dhaka are anxious
In the heat of the day, it rains a lot.
When it rains, so does the status of rain across Facebook
Endless whispers of talking on mobile.
When it rains, ask your boyfriend for flowers,
Suddenly the good news is like a class suspension.
This rain of rain is like sour salt,
That is why the poet says that rain is uncreated
