the one
He thought he was 'the one'
bonding hearts into love
and breaking hearts for fun.
But so many hearts break each day,
even between mates made
for each other in every way.
What merit lies in breaking hearts then?
Every dry twig breaks
at the slightest bend!
Breaking hearts does not make 'the one'
but owning hearts of men
for today and the days to come!
paradise(thematic translation of Omar Khyam's work)
Desolate i roam in the wilderness vast
Life now worth no more than a grasp of dust!
Hopeless , alone i lie where creepers entwine
a feebled tree ,with a glass of wine,
thinking of you beneath its leafless bough
and the wilderness seems a paradise now!
Life now worth no more than a grasp of dust!
Hopeless , alone i lie where creepers entwine
a feebled tree ,with a glass of wine,
thinking of you beneath its leafless bough
and the wilderness seems a paradise now!
wind
You think
restless i am like the wind
i blow defying whatever stands by
you see me ravage the fields and the waves
you feel me brush against your bare innocent face
you fear i will escape your bondage of love
you fear you will loose me in my pace
but can you bind the wind ??
can you stop its pace??
the falling leaf blows with me all along
the robin's melody blows with me all along
the smell of you your earth and everything in it
blows with me all along
to be with the wind
blow with the wind
my love
do not bind me
blow with me till the end!
a wasted day
A WASTED DAY. . . . . . .
Let this be a wasted day,
With lots to do and lots to say
There is nothing said and nothing done
There is no care or concern.
Let this be a day when
Work is a huge mountain
But there is no urge to scale the peak
No mission to follow no prize to seek.
Let this be a useless day
With no dream or pursuit to dictate the way
And there is no losing a turtle race
No need to caution and no need to pace.
Let this day be such a time
When leisure is law and labor is crime
And the only rule to follow today
Is: ‘do what the heart will say’.
So let this be just a day
When I will live the way I say
I will follow my heart all the way
And get the feel of ‘life’ today!
Let this be a wasted day,
With lots to do and lots to say
There is nothing said and nothing done
There is no care or concern.
Let this be a day when
Work is a huge mountain
But there is no urge to scale the peak
No mission to follow no prize to seek.
Let this be a useless day
With no dream or pursuit to dictate the way
And there is no losing a turtle race
No need to caution and no need to pace.
Let this day be such a time
When leisure is law and labor is crime
And the only rule to follow today
Is: ‘do what the heart will say’.
So let this be just a day
When I will live the way I say
I will follow my heart all the way
And get the feel of ‘life’ today!
amateur smoker
AMATEUR SMOKER
I am not a smoker (in the name of god). But sometimes in my room I light a cigarette and walk to and fro. Holding a burning cigarette with the smoke curling up almost to blind my view, I feel grown up, intelligent, confident. . . . . . I feel like a hero. I take a few puffs but only hold the smoke in my mouth and then exhale it with genuine satisfaction. I feel the heat of smoke in my face.
After some time when the smoke becomes thick to a suffocating level (sad but true, I cannot tolerate the smoke, I only like to exhale it in style so that whirls up around me), I start to cough. Water trickles down from my eyes. I feel tensed. Surprisingly, this feeling of tension makes me like the whole feel about smoking even more. When I am tensed I think of myself as one of the screen heroes . . . . smart, grown up and tensed of course about various necessary problems (like the death of a lover, or her rendezvous with the hero’s side kick).Sadly though, my tensions are also artificial and redundant like that of the actors’ ,marred by childish extravaganzas.
When the density of the smoke becomes too strong to tolerate, I feel as if I am hero who is trying to see through a crisis(just as all heroes do). I open my window and let the fresh air in(or out? You never know whether the smoke or Dhaka city air is fresher ). I switch on my table phone and focus it exclusively on the open window to force the smoke out.
I sit in my chair with the half smoke cigarette in my hand. By now I feel very much overdosed by the smoke . although at this stage I cannot tolerate smoking any more ,I still let the little devil burn between my fingers. What hero ever threw a half smoked cigarette? Throwing away an unfinished cigarette is the ultimate insult for a man. But I dare not take another puff. Apparently I am in a state of cognitive dissonance(acting against one’s judgment).But glory be to god and to who ever made the table fan, the gush of wind from the fan exhausts the cigarette quickly. I know smoking is dangerous to health and have watched many awareness ads about it. But sadly they somewhat lends an element of reality to my tensions and makes me feel all the more heroic(after all ,heroes always defy warnings).
By now I also know that the human heart is positioned slightly towards the left of our chest cavity and that smoking can triggers a heart attack. I fell an ominous pain on the left side of my chest, I swear by god almighty ,I somebody had ever taught me that the heart is located slightly towards the right ,I would have felt this pain towards the right.
Finally I get up and walk towards the window. Using my thumb and middle finger as a catapult I throw away the cigarette as hard as I can. This way when the cigarette hits the ground, its burning front side detaches form its butt and the whole thing bounce off. To be able to throw a burning cigarette like a bullet from a catapult is another authentic pleasure of smoking. The moment the cigarette lives my hand I make a much broken promise once again, “this was my last cigarette”.
I am not a smoker (in the name of god). But sometimes in my room I light a cigarette and walk to and fro. Holding a burning cigarette with the smoke curling up almost to blind my view, I feel grown up, intelligent, confident. . . . . . I feel like a hero. I take a few puffs but only hold the smoke in my mouth and then exhale it with genuine satisfaction. I feel the heat of smoke in my face.
After some time when the smoke becomes thick to a suffocating level (sad but true, I cannot tolerate the smoke, I only like to exhale it in style so that whirls up around me), I start to cough. Water trickles down from my eyes. I feel tensed. Surprisingly, this feeling of tension makes me like the whole feel about smoking even more. When I am tensed I think of myself as one of the screen heroes . . . . smart, grown up and tensed of course about various necessary problems (like the death of a lover, or her rendezvous with the hero’s side kick).Sadly though, my tensions are also artificial and redundant like that of the actors’ ,marred by childish extravaganzas.
When the density of the smoke becomes too strong to tolerate, I feel as if I am hero who is trying to see through a crisis(just as all heroes do). I open my window and let the fresh air in(or out? You never know whether the smoke or Dhaka city air is fresher ). I switch on my table phone and focus it exclusively on the open window to force the smoke out.
I sit in my chair with the half smoke cigarette in my hand. By now I feel very much overdosed by the smoke . although at this stage I cannot tolerate smoking any more ,I still let the little devil burn between my fingers. What hero ever threw a half smoked cigarette? Throwing away an unfinished cigarette is the ultimate insult for a man. But I dare not take another puff. Apparently I am in a state of cognitive dissonance(acting against one’s judgment).But glory be to god and to who ever made the table fan, the gush of wind from the fan exhausts the cigarette quickly. I know smoking is dangerous to health and have watched many awareness ads about it. But sadly they somewhat lends an element of reality to my tensions and makes me feel all the more heroic(after all ,heroes always defy warnings).
By now I also know that the human heart is positioned slightly towards the left of our chest cavity and that smoking can triggers a heart attack. I fell an ominous pain on the left side of my chest, I swear by god almighty ,I somebody had ever taught me that the heart is located slightly towards the right ,I would have felt this pain towards the right.
Finally I get up and walk towards the window. Using my thumb and middle finger as a catapult I throw away the cigarette as hard as I can. This way when the cigarette hits the ground, its burning front side detaches form its butt and the whole thing bounce off. To be able to throw a burning cigarette like a bullet from a catapult is another authentic pleasure of smoking. The moment the cigarette lives my hand I make a much broken promise once again, “this was my last cigarette”.
demon
DEMON
I always thought life is a fairy tale. . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
I have endured the bitterness of freezing winter
And the rage of the stormy night,
My bare body resisting
The fury of Mother Nature.
I always thought life is a fairy tale. . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
The devil of the dark
Growled at me like a flash of lightning
Its bulging eyes fiery red
Wanting to devour every morsel of my meat.
I always thought life is a fairy tale . . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
Amidst the most trying moments
I did not falter nor succumb to
The terror of the evil’s disguise,
Patient and steadfast I have been.
I always thought life is a fairy tale . . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
But how long do I have to wait?
The stars have changed courses
Civilizations have grown and fallen
Time itself seems to have stopped.
I always thought life is a fairy tale. . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
..........
At last life did turn out
To be a fairy tale
The prince and the princess lived happily ever after
But alas, I became the demon!
I always thought life is a fairy tale. . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
I have endured the bitterness of freezing winter
And the rage of the stormy night,
My bare body resisting
The fury of Mother Nature.
I always thought life is a fairy tale. . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
The devil of the dark
Growled at me like a flash of lightning
Its bulging eyes fiery red
Wanting to devour every morsel of my meat.
I always thought life is a fairy tale . . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
Amidst the most trying moments
I did not falter nor succumb to
The terror of the evil’s disguise,
Patient and steadfast I have been.
I always thought life is a fairy tale . . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
But how long do I have to wait?
The stars have changed courses
Civilizations have grown and fallen
Time itself seems to have stopped.
I always thought life is a fairy tale. . . .
In the end the demon gets killed
The prince and the princess
Live happily ever after.
..........
At last life did turn out
To be a fairy tale
The prince and the princess lived happily ever after
But alas, I became the demon!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
