What is beauty

 What is Beauty?


Beauty is easy to appreciate but difficult to define. As we look around, we discover beauty in pleasurable objects and sights – in nature, in the laughter of children, in the kindness of strangers. But asked to define, we run into difficulties. Does beauty have an independent objective identity? Is it universal, or is it dependent on our sense perceptions? Does it lie in the eye of the beholder? -we ask ourselves. A further difficulty arises when beauty manifests itself not only by its presence, but by its absence as well, as when we are repulsed by ugliness and desire beauty. But then ugliness has as much a place in our lives as beauty, or may be more-as when there is widespread hunger and injustice in a society. Philosophers have told us that beauty is an important part of life, but isn’t ugliness a part of life too? And if art has beauty as an important ingredient, can it confine itself only to a projection of beauty? Can art ignore what is not beautiful?


āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻŦাāĻĻ 


āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻŽূāĻ˛্āĻ¯াāĻ¯়āĻ¨ āĻ•āĻ°া āĻ¸āĻšāĻœ, āĻ¤āĻŦে āĻāĻ•ে āĻ¸ংāĻœ্āĻžাāĻ¯়িāĻ¤ āĻ•āĻ°া āĻ•āĻ িāĻ¨। āĻ†āĻŽাāĻĻেāĻ° āĻšাāĻ°āĻĒাāĻļে āĻ¤াāĻ•াāĻ˛ে āĻ†āĻŽāĻ°া āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯āĻ•ে āĻ†āĻŦিāĻˇ্āĻ•াāĻ° āĻ•āĻ°ি āĻ†āĻ¨āĻ¨্āĻĻāĻĻাāĻ¯়āĻ• āĻŦāĻ¸্āĻ¤ুāĻ¸াāĻŽāĻ—্āĻ°ী āĻ“ āĻĻৃāĻļ্āĻ¯াāĻŦāĻ˛িāĻ° āĻŽāĻ§্āĻ¯ে, āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻ•ৃāĻ¤িāĻ¤ে, āĻļিāĻļুāĻĻেāĻ° āĻšাāĻ¸িāĻ¤ে āĻ†āĻ° āĻ†āĻ—āĻ¨্āĻ¤ুāĻ•āĻĻেāĻ° āĻ¸āĻšৃāĻĻāĻ¯়āĻ¤াāĻ¯় । āĻ•িāĻ¨্āĻ¤ু āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯āĻ•ে āĻ¸ংāĻœ্āĻžাāĻ¯়িāĻ¤ āĻ•āĻ°āĻ¤ে āĻŦāĻ˛া āĻšāĻ˛ে āĻ†āĻŽāĻ°া āĻ¸āĻŽāĻ¸্āĻ¯াāĻ¯় āĻĒāĻĄ়ে āĻ¯াāĻ‡ । āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻ•ি āĻ•োāĻ¨াে āĻ¸্āĻŦāĻ¤āĻ¨্āĻ¤্āĻ° āĻŦāĻ¸্āĻ¤ুāĻ—āĻ¤ āĻĒāĻ°িāĻšিāĻ¤ি āĻ†āĻ›ে? āĻāĻŸি āĻ•ি āĻ¸āĻ°্āĻŦāĻœāĻ¨ীāĻ¨? āĻ¨াāĻ•ি āĻāĻŸি āĻ†āĻŽাāĻĻেāĻ° āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻ­ূāĻ¤িāĻ° āĻ¸ংāĻŦেāĻĻāĻ¨āĻļীāĻ˛āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻ“āĻĒāĻ° āĻ¨িāĻ°্āĻ­āĻ° āĻ•āĻ°ে? āĻāĻŸি āĻ•ি āĻ¨িāĻšিāĻ¤ āĻĨাāĻ•ে āĻĻāĻ°্āĻļāĻ•েāĻ° āĻĻৃāĻˇ্āĻŸিāĻ° āĻŽāĻ§্āĻ¯ে?– āĻ†āĻŽāĻ°া āĻ¨িāĻœāĻ•ে āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻļ্āĻ¨ āĻ•āĻ°ি । āĻ†āĻ°āĻ“ āĻœāĻŸিāĻ˛āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻ¸ৃāĻˇ্āĻŸি āĻšāĻ¯় āĻ¯āĻ–āĻ¨ āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯ āĻ¨িāĻœেāĻ•ে āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻĻāĻ°্āĻļāĻ¨ āĻ•āĻ°ে āĻļুāĻ§ু āĻ¯ে āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻ‰āĻĒāĻ¸্āĻĨিāĻ¤ি āĻĻিāĻ¯়ে āĻ¤া āĻ¨āĻ¯়, āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻĒāĻ¸্āĻĨিāĻ¤িāĻ° āĻŽাāĻ§্āĻ¯āĻŽেāĻ“; āĻ¯েāĻŽāĻ¨, āĻ¯āĻ–āĻ¨ āĻ†āĻŽāĻ°া āĻ•āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯āĻ¤াāĻ¯় āĻ¨িāĻ°ুā§ŽāĻ¸াāĻšিāĻ¤ āĻšāĻ‡ āĻāĻŦং āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯ āĻ•াāĻŽāĻ¨া āĻ•āĻ°ি। āĻ¤āĻŦে āĻāĻ–āĻ¨ āĻ†āĻŽাāĻĻেāĻ° āĻœীāĻŦāĻ¨ে āĻ•āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻ…āĻŦāĻ¸্āĻĨাāĻ¨ āĻ¤āĻ¤āĻŸা āĻĨাāĻ•ে āĻ¯āĻ¤āĻŸা āĻ…āĻŦāĻ¸্āĻĨাāĻ¨ āĻĨাāĻ•ে āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻŦা āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻšেāĻ¯়েāĻ“ āĻ…āĻ§িāĻ• āĻšāĻ¤ে āĻĒাāĻ°ে– āĻ¯েāĻŽāĻ¨āĻŸা āĻšāĻ¤ে āĻĒাāĻ°ে āĻ•োāĻ¨াে āĻ¸āĻŽাāĻœে āĻŦিāĻ¸্āĻ¤āĻ° āĻ•্āĻˇুāĻ§া āĻ†āĻ° āĻ…āĻ¨্āĻ¯াāĻ¯় āĻŦিāĻ°াāĻœāĻŽাāĻ¨ āĻĨাāĻ•āĻ˛ে। āĻĻাāĻ°্āĻļāĻ¨িāĻ•āĻ—āĻŖ āĻ†āĻŽাāĻĻেāĻ°āĻ•ে āĻŦāĻ˛েāĻ›েāĻ¨ āĻ¯ে, āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯ āĻšāĻš্āĻ›ে āĻœীāĻŦāĻ¨েāĻ° āĻāĻ•āĻŸি āĻ…āĻ¤্āĻ¯āĻ¨্āĻ¤ āĻ—ুāĻ°ুāĻ¤্āĻŦāĻĒূāĻ°্āĻŖ āĻ…ংāĻļ, āĻ¤āĻŦে āĻ•āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯āĻ¤াāĻ“ āĻ•ি āĻœীāĻŦāĻ¨েāĻ° āĻāĻ•āĻŸি āĻ…ংāĻļ āĻ¨āĻ¯়? āĻ†āĻ° āĻ¯āĻĻি āĻļিāĻ˛্āĻĒāĻ•āĻ˛াāĻ° āĻ—ুāĻ°ুāĻ¤্āĻŦāĻĒূāĻ°্āĻŖ āĻāĻ•āĻŸি āĻ‰āĻĒাāĻĻাāĻ¨ āĻšিāĻ¸েāĻŦে āĻĨেāĻ•ে āĻĨাāĻ•ে āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯, āĻ¤āĻŦে āĻāĻŸি āĻ•ি āĻļুāĻ§ুāĻ‡ āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻĻāĻ°্āĻļāĻ¨েāĻ‡ āĻ¨িāĻœেāĻ•ে āĻ¸ীāĻŽাāĻŦāĻĻ্āĻ§ āĻ°াāĻ–ে? āĻ¯া āĻ¸ুāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ° āĻ¨āĻ¯় āĻ¤াāĻ•ে āĻ•ি āĻļিāĻ˛্āĻĒāĻ•āĻ˛া āĻ…āĻŦāĻœ্āĻžা āĻ•āĻ°āĻ¤ে āĻĒাāĻ°ে?


Poets and artists have provided an answer by incorporating both into their work. In doing so, they have often tied beauty to truth and justice, so that what is not beautiful assumes a tolerable proportion as something that represents some truth about life. John Keats, the romantic poet, wrote in his celebrated ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’ ‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,’ by which he means that truth, even if it’s not pleasant, becomes beautiful at a higher level. Similarly, what is beautiful forever remains true. Another meaning, in the context of the Grecian Urn-an art object-is that truth is a condition of art.


āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻŦাāĻĻ 


āĻ•āĻŦি āĻ“ āĻļিāĻ˛্āĻĒীāĻ—āĻŖ āĻ¤াঁāĻĻেāĻ° āĻ•āĻ°্āĻŽে āĻ‰āĻ­āĻ¯়েāĻ°āĻ‡ āĻ…āĻ¨্āĻ¤āĻ°্āĻ­ুāĻ•্āĻ¤ি āĻ°েāĻ–ে āĻāĻ•āĻŸা āĻ‰āĻ¤্āĻ¤āĻ° āĻĻিāĻ¯়েāĻ›েāĻ¨। āĻāĻŽāĻ¨āĻŸা āĻ•āĻ°āĻ¤ে āĻ—িāĻ¯়ে āĻ¤াāĻ°া āĻĒ্āĻ°াāĻ¯়āĻļāĻ‡ āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯āĻ•ে āĻ¸āĻ¤্āĻ¯ āĻ“ āĻ¨্āĻ¯াāĻ¯়েāĻ° āĻ¸াāĻĨে āĻŦেঁāĻ§েāĻ›েāĻ¨ āĻ¯াāĻ¤ে āĻ•āĻ°ে āĻ¯া āĻ¸ুāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ° āĻ¨āĻ¯় āĻ¤া āĻāĻ• āĻ¸āĻšāĻ¨ীāĻ¯় āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻĒাāĻ¤ āĻĒāĻ°িāĻ—্āĻ°āĻš āĻ•āĻ°ুāĻ• āĻāĻŽāĻ¨ āĻ•িāĻ›ুāĻ° āĻŽāĻ¤াে āĻ¯া āĻœীāĻŦāĻ¨। āĻ¸āĻŽ্āĻŦāĻ¨্āĻ§ে āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻ¸āĻ¤্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻ¤িāĻ¨িāĻ§িāĻ¤্āĻŦ āĻ•āĻ°ে। āĻ°ােāĻŽাāĻ¨্āĻŸিāĻ• āĻ•āĻŦি āĻ•িāĻŸāĻ¸। āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻŦāĻšুāĻ˛ āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻļংāĻ¸িāĻ¤ ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’- āĻ āĻ˛িāĻ–েāĻ›েāĻ¨ ‘Beauty is truth, truth is beauty’ āĻ¯াāĻ° āĻĻ্āĻŦাāĻ°া āĻ¤িāĻ¨ি āĻŦুāĻাāĻ¤ে āĻšেāĻ¯়েāĻ›েāĻ¨ āĻ¯ে, āĻ¸āĻ¤্āĻ¯ āĻ¤া āĻ¯āĻĻি āĻ¸ুāĻ–āĻ•āĻ° āĻ¨াāĻ“ āĻšāĻ¯়। āĻ‰āĻš্āĻšāĻ¤āĻ° āĻ¸্āĻ¤āĻ°ে āĻ¤া āĻšāĻ¯়ে āĻ“āĻ ে āĻ¸ুāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°। āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻ°ূāĻĒāĻ­াāĻŦে, āĻ¯া āĻļাāĻļ্āĻŦāĻ¤। āĻ¸ুāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ° āĻ¤া āĻ¸āĻ¤্āĻ¯ āĻšāĻ¯়ে āĻĨাāĻ•ে। āĻāĻ• āĻļিāĻ˛্āĻĒāĻ•āĻ˛াāĻ° āĻ¸াāĻŽāĻ—্āĻ°ী The Grecian Urn-āĻāĻ° āĻĒ্āĻ°াāĻ¸āĻ™্āĻ—িāĻ•āĻ¤াāĻ¯় āĻāĻ° āĻ†āĻ°েāĻ• āĻ…āĻ°্āĻĨ āĻšāĻš্āĻ›ে āĻļিāĻ˛্āĻĒāĻ—ুāĻŖ-āĻ¯া, āĻļিāĻ˛্āĻĒāĻ•āĻ˛াāĻ° āĻāĻ•āĻŸি āĻļāĻ°্āĻ¤।


Poetry in every language celebrates beauty and truth. So does art. Here are two poems from two different times that present some enduring ideas about beauty and truth. The poems are by Lord Byron (1788-1824), an English poet of the Romantic tradition, and Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), an American poet who wrote about the human scene, love and death.


āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻŦাāĻĻ 


āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻ¤্āĻ¯েāĻ• āĻ­াāĻˇাāĻ° āĻ•āĻŦিāĻ¤া āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯ āĻ“ āĻ¸āĻ¤্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻŦāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ¨া āĻ•āĻ°ে। āĻļিāĻ˛্āĻĒāĻ•āĻ˛াāĻ“ āĻ¤াāĻ‡ āĻ•āĻ°ে। āĻāĻ–াāĻ¨ে āĻ­িāĻ¨্āĻ¨ āĻ­িāĻ¨্āĻ¨ āĻĻুāĻ‡ āĻ¸āĻŽāĻ¯়েāĻ° āĻĻুāĻŸি, āĻ•āĻŦিāĻ¤া āĻ°āĻ¯়েāĻ›ে āĻ¯েāĻ—ুāĻ˛াে āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯ āĻ“ āĻ¸āĻ¤্āĻ¯ āĻ¸āĻŽ্āĻĒāĻ°্āĻ•ে āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻļ্āĻŦাāĻļāĻ¤ āĻ§াāĻ°āĻŖা āĻ‰āĻĒāĻ¸্āĻĨাāĻĒāĻ¨ āĻ•āĻ°āĻ›ে। āĻ•āĻŦিāĻ¤াāĻ—ুāĻ˛াে āĻ°ােāĻŽাāĻ¨্āĻŸিāĻ• āĻāĻ¤িāĻš্āĻ¯। āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻ°াāĻ—েāĻ° āĻ‡ংāĻ°েāĻœ āĻ•āĻŦি āĻ˛āĻ°্āĻĄ āĻŦাāĻ‡āĻ°āĻ¨ (ā§§ā§­ā§Žā§Ž-ā§§ā§Žā§¨ā§Ē) āĻāĻŦং āĻŽাāĻ¨āĻŦীāĻ¯় āĻĻৃāĻļ্āĻ¯, āĻ­াāĻ˛ােāĻŦাāĻ¸া āĻ“ āĻŽৃāĻ¤্āĻ¯ু āĻ¨িāĻ¯়ে āĻ˛েāĻ–া āĻ†āĻŽেāĻ°িāĻ•াāĻ¨ āĻ•āĻŦি āĻāĻŽিāĻ˛ি āĻĄিāĻ•িāĻ¨āĻ¸āĻ¨ (ā§§ā§Žā§Šā§Ļ-ā§§ā§Žā§Žā§Ŧ) āĻ•āĻ°্āĻ¤ৃāĻ• āĻ°āĻšিāĻ¤।


‘She Walks in Beauty’ by Lord Byron


(1)


She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.


(2)


One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.


(3)


And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!


āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻŦাāĻĻ 


‘āĻ¸ে āĻ¸ুāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°েāĻ° āĻŽাāĻে āĻšেঁāĻŸে āĻŦেā§œাā§Ÿ’ – āĻ˛āĻ°্āĻĄ āĻŦাā§ŸāĻ°āĻ¨

āĻ¸ে āĻšাঁāĻŸāĻ˛ে āĻĒāĻ°ে āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯ āĻāĻ°ে āĻ¸েāĻ‡ āĻ°াāĻ¤েāĻ° āĻ¤ে।

(āĻ¯ে āĻ°াāĻ¤ে āĻšāĻ¯়) āĻŽেāĻ˜āĻšীāĻ¨ āĻšাāĻ°āĻĒাāĻļ āĻ†āĻ° āĻ¤াāĻ°া āĻ­āĻ°া āĻ†āĻ•াāĻļ,

āĻ†āĻ˛ো-āĻ†ঁāĻ§াāĻ°িāĻ° āĻ¸ুāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°āĻ¤āĻŽ āĻ›াāĻ¯়া āĻ–েāĻ˛ে āĻ¯াāĻ¯়

āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻšোāĻ– āĻœোāĻĄ়া āĻ†āĻ° āĻĻেāĻšāĻ­āĻ™্āĻ—িāĻŽাāĻ¯়:

āĻ†āĻ° āĻāĻ­াāĻŦেāĻ‡ āĻ¸ে āĻ¸েāĻ‡ āĻ•োāĻŽāĻ˛ āĻ†āĻ˛ােāĻ° āĻ¸াāĻĨে।

āĻāĻ•া āĻšāĻ¯়ে āĻ¯াāĻ¯়- āĻāĻ•āĻŽāĻ•ে āĻ‰āĻœ্āĻœ্āĻŦāĻ˛ āĻĻিāĻ¨āĻ•েāĻ“।

āĻ†āĻ•াāĻļ āĻ¯ে āĻ†āĻ˛াে āĻĻিāĻ¤ে āĻ…āĻ¸্āĻŦীāĻ•াāĻ° āĻ•āĻ°ে ।

āĻ›াāĻ¯়াāĻ° āĻ—āĻ­ীāĻ°āĻ¤া āĻāĻ•āĻŸু āĻŦেāĻļী āĻšāĻ˛ে āĻ…āĻĨāĻŦা āĻāĻ•āĻŸা

āĻ†āĻ˛োāĻ•āĻ°āĻļ্āĻŽি āĻ•āĻŽ āĻšāĻ˛ে āĻ…āĻ°্āĻ§েāĻ• āĻ•āĻŽে āĻ¯াāĻŦে।

āĻ¸েāĻ‡ āĻ¨াāĻŽāĻšীāĻ¨ āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯ āĻ¯া

āĻĸেāĻ‰ āĻ–েāĻ˛ে āĻ¯াāĻ¯় āĻ°্āĻ¯াāĻ­েāĻ¨ āĻŸ্āĻ°ি-āĻ¤ে āĻ…āĻĨāĻŦা

āĻ•োāĻŽāĻ˛ āĻ›াāĻ¯়া āĻĢেāĻ˛ে āĻ¯াāĻ¯় āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻ–েāĻļ্āĻ°ীāĻ¤ে;

āĻ¯েāĻ–াāĻ¨ে āĻŦিāĻ­াāĻ¸িāĻ¤ āĻļাāĻ¨্āĻ¤ āĻŽিāĻˇ্āĻŸি āĻ­াāĻŦāĻ¨াāĻ—ুāĻ˛ো

āĻ¯েāĻ¨ āĻŦāĻ˛ে āĻĻিāĻ¯়ে āĻ¯াāĻ¯় āĻ•āĻ¤ āĻĒāĻŦিāĻ¤্āĻ° āĻ†āĻ° āĻ•āĻ¤ āĻĒ্āĻ°িāĻ¯় āĻ¤াāĻĻেāĻ° āĻāĻ‡

āĻ†āĻ° āĻ¸েāĻ‡ āĻ•āĻĒাāĻ˛েāĻ° āĻ‰āĻĒāĻ° āĻ†āĻ° āĻ­ুāĻ¯ুāĻ—āĻ˛েāĻ° āĻĒāĻ°ে

āĻāĻ¤ āĻļাāĻ¨্āĻ¤ āĻ•োāĻŽāĻ˛ āĻ…āĻĨāĻš āĻāĻ•

āĻŦিāĻœāĻ¯়ী āĻšাāĻ¸ি āĻ–েāĻ˛ে āĻ¯াāĻ¯়,

āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻ•āĻ˛āĻ™্āĻ•āĻšীāĻ¨āĻ­াāĻŦে āĻ¯াāĻĒিāĻ¤ āĻĻিāĻ¨āĻ—ুāĻ˛িāĻ° āĻ•āĻĨা āĻŦāĻ˛ে āĻĻিāĻ¯়ে āĻ¯াāĻ¯়।

āĻāĻ•āĻŸি āĻļাāĻ¨্āĻ¤ āĻ¨ে āĻ¯াāĻ° āĻ¨িāĻšে āĻ¸āĻŦāĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻ¸āĻŽাāĻšিāĻ¤ āĻšāĻ¯়ে āĻ†āĻ›ে।

āĻāĻ•āĻŸি āĻšৃāĻĻāĻ¯় āĻ¯াāĻ° āĻ­াāĻ˛োāĻŦাāĻ¸া āĻ¨িāĻˇ্āĻĒাāĻĒ ।

‘I Died For Beauty’ by Emily Dickinson

I died for beauty, but was scarce

Adjusted in the tomb,

When one who died for truth was lain

In an adjoining room.


He questioned softly why I failed?

‘For beauty,’ I replied.

‘And I for truth – the two are one;


‘We brethren are,’ he said.

And so, as kinsmen met a night,

We talked between the rooms,

Until the moss had reached our lips,

And covered up our names.


āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻŦাāĻĻ 


‘āĻ¸ুāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°েāĻ° āĻœāĻ¨্āĻ¯āĻ‡ āĻŽৃāĻ¤্āĻ¯ুāĻŦāĻ°āĻŖ āĻ•āĻ°েāĻ›িāĻ˛াāĻŽ’- āĻāĻŽিāĻ˛ি āĻĄিāĻ•েāĻ¨āĻ¸āĻ¨

āĻ†āĻŽি āĻŽৃāĻ¤্āĻ¯ুāĻ•ে āĻŦāĻ°āĻŖ āĻ•āĻ°āĻ˛াāĻŽ āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻœāĻ¨্āĻ¯

āĻ•িāĻ¨্āĻ¤ু āĻĻুāĻ°্āĻ˛āĻ­āĻ­াāĻŦে āĻ¸āĻŽাāĻ§িāĻ¤ে āĻ¸āĻŽāĻ¨্āĻŦিāĻ¤ āĻšāĻ¯়েāĻ›িāĻ˛াāĻŽ,

āĻ¯িāĻ¨ি āĻ¸āĻ¤্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻœāĻ¨্āĻ¯ āĻŽৃāĻ¤্āĻ¯ুāĻŦāĻ°āĻŖ āĻ•āĻ°āĻ˛েāĻ¨ āĻ¤াঁāĻ•ে āĻļাāĻ¯়িāĻ¤ āĻ•āĻ°া āĻšāĻ˛ো

āĻ¸ংāĻ˛āĻ—্āĻ¨ āĻ•োāĻ¨ো āĻāĻ•āĻŸি āĻ•āĻ•্āĻˇে।

āĻ¨āĻŽ্āĻ°āĻ•āĻŖ্āĻ ে āĻ¤িāĻ¨ি āĻœিāĻœ্āĻžাāĻ¸িāĻ˛েāĻ¨ āĻ•েāĻ¨ āĻ†āĻŽি āĻŦ্āĻ¯āĻ°্āĻĨ āĻšāĻ˛াāĻŽ?

āĻ¸ৌāĻ¨্āĻĻāĻ°্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻœāĻ¨্āĻ¯, āĻ†āĻŽি āĻ‰āĻ¤্āĻ¤āĻ°ে āĻŦāĻ˛েāĻ›িāĻ˛াāĻŽ।

āĻ†āĻ° āĻ†āĻŽি āĻ¸āĻ¤্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻĒāĻ•্āĻˇে– āĻ†āĻŽāĻ°া āĻĻুāĻœāĻ¨ে āĻāĻ•,

āĻ†āĻŽāĻ°া āĻ­াāĻ‡-āĻ­াāĻ‡, āĻ¤িāĻ¨ি āĻŦāĻ˛āĻ˛েāĻ¨।

āĻ†āĻ° āĻ¤াāĻ‡, āĻ¯āĻ–āĻ¨ āĻ†āĻ¤্āĻŽীāĻ¯়āĻ°া āĻ°াāĻ¤ে āĻ¸াāĻ•্āĻˇাā§Ž āĻ•āĻ°āĻ˛েāĻ¨

āĻ†āĻŽāĻ°া āĻĻু’āĻœāĻ¨েāĻ° āĻŽāĻ§্āĻ¯ে āĻ•āĻĨা āĻŦāĻ˛āĻ˛াāĻŽ।

āĻ¯ে āĻĒāĻ°্āĻ¯āĻ¨্āĻ¤ āĻ¨া āĻ†āĻŽাāĻĻেāĻ° āĻ“āĻˇ্āĻ āĻĻ্āĻŦāĻ¯় āĻĒāĻ°্āĻ¯āĻ¨্āĻ¤ āĻļেāĻ“āĻ˛া āĻāĻ¸ে āĻĒৌāĻ›ে

āĻ†āĻ° āĻ†āĻŽাāĻĻেāĻ° āĻ¨াāĻŽ āĻ—ুāĻ˛ো āĻĸেāĻ•ে āĻĢেāĻ˛ে।

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