poem#43
mother I will wipe your tears some other day
mother I will wipe your tears some other day
pooem#31
Sweetheart (in anachronistic romance)
let us write a poem together
though, let alone writing, you never did get
poetry.
Sweetheart, yet let us write a poem together.
I will write a stanza
and you will write a stanza-
your stanzas and my stanzas
one after another
will weave a poem together.
What? Is that tough? Are you not getting it?
Ok let us treat is like prose then.
I will write a line
and you will write a line
your lines and my lines
one after another
will weave a poem together.
What? Is that tough too? Are you not getting it?
Ok let us treat it like word game.
I will write a word
and you will write a word
your words and my words
one after another
will weave a poem together.
So let us begin. Here I go:
BREAK-
UP.
Sweetheart (in anachronistic romance)
let us write a poem together
though, let alone writing, you never did get
poetry.
Sweetheart, yet let us write a poem together.
I will write a stanza
and you will write a stanza-
your stanzas and my stanzas
one after another
will weave a poem together.
What? Is that tough? Are you not getting it?
Ok let us treat is like prose then.
I will write a line
and you will write a line
your lines and my lines
one after another
will weave a poem together.
What? Is that tough too? Are you not getting it?
Ok let us treat it like word game.
I will write a word
and you will write a word
your words and my words
one after another
will weave a poem together.
So let us begin. Here I go:
BREAK-
UP.
poem#30
My love
(in anachronistic romance),
I am writing a poem in your name.
You will not like what I write
or may be you will like it a
little bit now,
but you will surely like it a great deal less
as you read.
But I know you will read!
PAUSE
If you are reading
I presume you are merely being kind
to a poet (though you never knew what one was)
If you are reading still
I presume I should praise your patience (which I had not seen earlier)
If you are reading yet still
I presume,( though late), you are trying to be a connoisseur of art these days
If your are reading even now
I presume your are merely inquisitive (about what I can write after we have parted ways)
If you are reading even this line
I presume you have nothing else to do
and are submerged in my chaep flatterey
spitted by my 500 paisa pen
as I scribble your name.
You have nothing to do.
Please find something to do!
poem# 29
Today everything belongs to you
all belongs to you
you
to
me!
Today everything belongs to you
the lonely road to my
village with
the canopy of the
roadside korai and neem trees
that cast a
shadow
so divine and serene
and the white cranes perched in them
and the white cranes perched in them
belongs to you.
the melancholy of the
afternoon with
bliss of solitude and
the myriad of birds
chirping here and there coupled with the
occasional hamba of the cows
telling a stoy of a young romeo lost in emotions
chirping here and there coupled with the
occasional hamba of the cows
telling a stoy of a young romeo lost in emotions
belongs to you
the soft touch of the breeze
that blow over the
muddy village road
that goes for miles
without another man in sight
where I can whistle my tune without
fear or shame
and that carries with it the
smell of hay
wet earth
and dried hyacinths on the
edges of the
pool
belongs to you
that goes for miles
without another man in sight
where I can whistle my tune without
fear or shame
and that carries with it the
smell of hay
wet earth
and dried hyacinths on the
edges of the
pool
belongs to you
the deserted rose
lying on the
dusty road with its
story untold
of a young romeo
drowned in
romanticism
that may or may not have a
roof over its head
that may or may not have a
roof over its head
belongs to you
the dusty road
the divine shade
the birds
the breeze
the rose
the romeo
the moments
the melancholy
the melancholy
the heart
the hay
the hay
all belongs to you
and
you
belong
to
me!
poem#26
You and I are getting
far and far
far and far
you and I are getting from each other.
Not long ago my success
would please your heart
Today it alienates you,
threatens you like the shadow of another women.
I know I have done lots to breach you trust.
I am obsessed by my visions. I am always on the rush.
You say slow down. Let us build a home
Let us make children.
Let us be a family.
But I am a vagabond.
I have no home
I have no country
I have no attachment
I only want to travel
I only want to discover
places to places
milestones to milestones
challenges to challenges
women to women.
You and I are getting
far and far
far and far
you and I are getting from each other.
Not long ago my success
would please your heart
Today it alienates you,
threatens you like the shadow of another women.
I know I have done lots to breach you trust.
I am obsessed by my visions. I am always on the rush.
You say slow down. Let us build a home
Let us make children.
Let us be a family.
But I am a vagabond.
I have no home
I have no country
I have no attachment
I only want to travel
I only want to discover
places to places
milestones to milestones
challenges to challenges
women to women.
poem#23
We had met after many days-
after many days of fight
many days of silence
many days of debating whether you or I was right.
On the rickshaw you began to sing an old Hemonto Mukhopadhyay song
your head on my shoulders, your hand holding mine all along:
'koto raginir vul bhangate
bashi vore gelo aghate
projapoti pelo je betha
kata bone ful jagate.'
So lovely was the tune
and the lyrics so sweetly rhymed-
Today,
miles away
when I listen to the song on youtube- everytime
it seems the song was sung better in your feminine voice
it reminds me of you- your face.
And I sing:
So many flutes in vain
wooing the lady's scorn
so many birds in pain
flowering in a forest of thorn.
We had met after many days-
after many days of fight
many days of silence
many days of debating whether you or I was right.
On the rickshaw you began to sing an old Hemonto Mukhopadhyay song
your head on my shoulders, your hand holding mine all along:
'koto raginir vul bhangate
bashi vore gelo aghate
projapoti pelo je betha
kata bone ful jagate.'
So lovely was the tune
and the lyrics so sweetly rhymed-
Today,
miles away
when I listen to the song on youtube- everytime
it seems the song was sung better in your feminine voice
it reminds me of you- your face.
And I sing:
So many flutes in vain
wooing the lady's scorn
so many birds in pain
flowering in a forest of thorn.
poem#22
Without you
my kitchen will be the old mess;
so much dust and stain gathered
not a foot set in days.
The onions, the garlic, the chillies in the basket- the vegetables
in the shelf- long wilted
The soap bar- with little water in its case- has melted
the tap is crammed
the basin pipe jammed
used utensils reeking of stale curry
lie here and there
those cock roaches have bred a generation- their young ones- oblivious of me
pry everywhere.
I do not know where you placed the salt
or the sauce
I cannot find the match box
There is some oil in the bottle-long due its date;
the chilli powder- damp- is hard as brick
the stove- rusted; the gas line seems to leak.
Where is the fry pan?
Oh I see it- hanging in the safe- shadowed by a spider's web.
Squinting my eyes I nervously break an egg into the pan
the oil spills- a dozen drops lands- on my body neck and face
I rush to the tap-
I shower water- but bruises have made their brown trace.
The fire goes on
goes on
goes on.
The egg burns. The burnt face smokes. I do not feel like turning it over...
I miss you in your absence
I miss you when I am playing your role
I miss you when I am a lonely soul!
Without you
my kitchen will be the old mess;
so much dust and stain gathered
not a foot set in days.
The onions, the garlic, the chillies in the basket- the vegetables
in the shelf- long wilted
The soap bar- with little water in its case- has melted
the tap is crammed
the basin pipe jammed
used utensils reeking of stale curry
lie here and there
those cock roaches have bred a generation- their young ones- oblivious of me
pry everywhere.
I do not know where you placed the salt
or the sauce
I cannot find the match box
There is some oil in the bottle-long due its date;
the chilli powder- damp- is hard as brick
the stove- rusted; the gas line seems to leak.
Where is the fry pan?
Oh I see it- hanging in the safe- shadowed by a spider's web.
Squinting my eyes I nervously break an egg into the pan
the oil spills- a dozen drops lands- on my body neck and face
I rush to the tap-
I shower water- but bruises have made their brown trace.
The fire goes on
goes on
goes on.
The egg burns. The burnt face smokes. I do not feel like turning it over...
I miss you in your absence
I miss you when I am playing your role
I miss you when I am a lonely soul!
poem#21
I am midway across the river
Along its two banks are two worlds
made in love and hate
truth and lies
joy and despair.
The tide is thick
beneath the clear waters
pebbles bleed my feet;
I need to cross!
Ah, who comes by?
O majhi bhi in canopy boat, which side of the river do you come from?
Will you ferry me across-
though I know not which side?
"I am the child of the water
by water I live
in water I live."
Ah! How do you spend your days?
Your summers?
Your winters?
Your springs?
Your autumns?
"People come and people go
but I go on for ever!
I cross beneath half a hundred iron bridges a day
I ferry half a hundred people
I pass by half a hundred fields of hay
I cruise with every ripple.
I have the sun by day
the moon by night
and half a million stars in sight;
come storm or calm
through thick and thin
I fish by my rod
and sing in my shade
and life is as prfound as could be made.
Hop in.There is room for one in the shade
and you can make a fishing rod of the lever
men may come and and men may go
But we must go on for ever."
And my world?
"Who says you need it?"
I am midway across the river
Along its two banks are two worlds
made in love and hate
truth and lies
joy and despair.
The tide is thick
beneath the clear waters
pebbles bleed my feet;
I need to cross!
Ah, who comes by?
O majhi bhi in canopy boat, which side of the river do you come from?
Will you ferry me across-
though I know not which side?
"I am the child of the water
by water I live
in water I live."
Ah! How do you spend your days?
Your summers?
Your winters?
Your springs?
Your autumns?
"People come and people go
but I go on for ever!
I cross beneath half a hundred iron bridges a day
I ferry half a hundred people
I pass by half a hundred fields of hay
I cruise with every ripple.
I have the sun by day
the moon by night
and half a million stars in sight;
come storm or calm
through thick and thin
I fish by my rod
and sing in my shade
and life is as prfound as could be made.
Hop in.There is room for one in the shade
and you can make a fishing rod of the lever
men may come and and men may go
But we must go on for ever."
And my world?
"Who says you need it?"
poem#20
Yesterday I had a deeply touching conversation with my Fupa. He was very nostalgic about the days of my father and their endeavors. He uttered 'oi Ramo nai, oi Ojoddhau nai.'The line struck me like lightning. Here is how I have fitted that into my emotions:
That Ram is gone, that Ayodhya is gone!
So many days are gone, so much time is gone!
Why the silence
Why the disguise
Why have patience
Why act wise
Why not speak
Why not express
Why not rush
Why not face
That Ram is gone, that Ayodhya is gone!
So many moments half-lived
So many buds nipped
So many feelings ripped
Bleeds tears in the emptiness of the soul!
They are not just lost days
Rather many different lives
Lost
Trapped
In layers of nostalgia- in one melancholy hive.
That Ram is gone, that Ayodhya is gone!
SPEAK
EXPRESS
RUN
FACE!
Yesterday I had a deeply touching conversation with my Fupa. He was very nostalgic about the days of my father and their endeavors. He uttered 'oi Ramo nai, oi Ojoddhau nai.'The line struck me like lightning. Here is how I have fitted that into my emotions:
That Ram is gone, that Ayodhya is gone!
So many days are gone, so much time is gone!
Why the silence
Why the disguise
Why have patience
Why act wise
Why not speak
Why not express
Why not rush
Why not face
That Ram is gone, that Ayodhya is gone!
So many moments half-lived
So many buds nipped
So many feelings ripped
Bleeds tears in the emptiness of the soul!
They are not just lost days
Rather many different lives
Lost
Trapped
In layers of nostalgia- in one melancholy hive.
That Ram is gone, that Ayodhya is gone!
SPEAK
EXPRESS
RUN
FACE!
poem#19
One love lost in silence
one love lost in cowardice
one love lost in being fool
one love lost in paradise.
one love lost in going easy
one love lost in cheating
one love lost in being busy
one love lost in beating
one love lost in war
one love lost in rage
one love lost in poverty
one love lost in age...
I have miles to travel along this lonely path
and I have one last love left
in the vaults of my sorrowful heart it is been nicely kept!
One love lost in silence
one love lost in cowardice
one love lost in being fool
one love lost in paradise.
one love lost in going easy
one love lost in cheating
one love lost in being busy
one love lost in beating
one love lost in war
one love lost in rage
one love lost in poverty
one love lost in age...
I have miles to travel along this lonely path
and I have one last love left
in the vaults of my sorrowful heart it is been nicely kept!
Poem#18
You think
restless I am like the wind:
I blow defying whatever stands by
ravaging the trees and the waves!
You fear I will escape your bondage of love!
You fear you will lose me in my pace!
But can you bind the wind ??
Can you stop its pace??
The falling leaves
the robin's melody
the smell of you
your earth
and everything in it
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!
poem#17
As I push you far and far
And you push me far and far
Across the fragile touch of time and memories of massacre
I see,
I see bit by bit:
It is not love that I am after
But the absence of it!
It is absence that
drives my pen
spills my verse
coins my glory
subdues your curse!
I hail your absence!
I hail the absence of love!!
Poem #16
He was what they called a loser
He didn’t have the money
the power
the look
the fame
and he didn’t get the girl!
He thought why should all that matter in love!
Today he has all that,
he is all that:
the money
the power
the look
the fame
and he has the girl
and he is in love.
Why should all that matter in love!
poem#13
My love,
It has been ages that I have not seen you,
Kissed you,
Fought you!
You blew away like the wind off my arms never to be eyed
Melodized,
Despised!
I made a terrible mistake!
I made a terrible mistake!
You may never forgive me!
You may never forget me!
I am hunting you for ages;
Storms have changed courses and blown
Zillion roses have fallen and grown
And the ‘love’ that you knew: reborn!
I go looking from place to place, from door to door
My sole long rusted, my foot rotten sore
I knock every house, ask every living thing
Some do not answer, others have not seen:
I look for you,
By every flowing river
At every floating cloud
Through every tree green
In every bird that sing
All the rivers say no
All the clouds say no
All the trees say no
All the birds say no
All the doors say no
All the souls say no
The heart says yes
Poem#11
You and I on a rickshaw ride
Empty streets- the hood upright;
It is 'hotral'; there is no one to be seen
Roadside trees cast overhead, a canopy green;
Dry golden leaves blown on the concrete floor
A pleasant sun, a pleasant wind- and what more!
It is just you, it is just me
And sometimes it is the rickshaw puller looking back (at us) to see
The shy wheels creak as he gives his pedals a push
On your lovely hair the wind makes an ambush!
We get close- a little touch- a little kiss
And I am lost in serene bliss
It begins to rain cold; you grow scared your mother will call
She will scold, she will find out and all-
You hush me silent, your finger on my lips as you pick the phone-
On the other side I hear a raucous tone
You lie to your mother all along
And then you tell me, "15 MINUTES, and I must be gone!"
But your poet is too lost to listen in his dream
Musing in the love that he has seen-
'Oh rickshaw puller vai in the rain, you are dripping dead;
Pull out your plastic and cover your head
You can't catch cold, you have miles to go
On your fare, I promise, the double I will owe
Hit your pedals and takes us far
Through Dhaka's streets in your lovely car!'
You and I on a rickshaw ride
Empty streets- the hood upright;
It is 'hotral'; there is no one to be seen
Roadside trees cast overhead, a canopy green;
Dry golden leaves blown on the concrete floor
A pleasant sun, a pleasant wind- and what more!
It is just you, it is just me
And sometimes it is the rickshaw puller looking back (at us) to see
The shy wheels creak as he gives his pedals a push
On your lovely hair the wind makes an ambush!
We get close- a little touch- a little kiss
And I am lost in serene bliss
It begins to rain cold; you grow scared your mother will call
She will scold, she will find out and all-
You hush me silent, your finger on my lips as you pick the phone-
On the other side I hear a raucous tone
You lie to your mother all along
And then you tell me, "15 MINUTES, and I must be gone!"
But your poet is too lost to listen in his dream
Musing in the love that he has seen-
'Oh rickshaw puller vai in the rain, you are dripping dead;
Pull out your plastic and cover your head
You can't catch cold, you have miles to go
On your fare, I promise, the double I will owe
Hit your pedals and takes us far
Through Dhaka's streets in your lovely car!'
Poem #9
I am I am lost lost
In your in your thought thought
Floating floating high high
Painted painted sky sky
Twinkling twinkling star star
Shining shining far far
Magic magic cloud cloud
Tweeting tweeting loud...
I am I am blind blind
Losing losing mind mind
Falling falling low low
You can't you can't go go
You can you can save save
My heart my heart grave grave!
I am I am lost lost
In your in your thought thought
Floating floating high high
Painted painted sky sky
Twinkling twinkling star star
Shining shining far far
Magic magic cloud cloud
Tweeting tweeting loud...
I am I am blind blind
Losing losing mind mind
Falling falling low low
You can't you can't go go
You can you can save save
My heart my heart grave grave!
poem#8
I do not have to say it twice
It is written all over my face
My eyes;
You don't look
You don't listen!
In the court of law
(even) the devil gets a defence
In the cour ot love
the romeo, an audience;
My crime has been the most dire
My attempts only the most bold
But while you ignore and hide and hold
The ominous jury seals my faith to the pyre!
I do not have to say it twice
It is written all over my face
My eyes;
You don't look
You don't listen!
In the court of law
(even) the devil gets a defence
In the cour ot love
the romeo, an audience;
My crime has been the most dire
My attempts only the most bold
But while you ignore and hide and hold
The ominous jury seals my faith to the pyre!
poem#7
Will you please listen to what I have to say?
Over a cup of coffee
Or perhaps some other day
By the road side stall
At the campus mall
Or anywhere at all
Will you please listen to what I have to say?
There is a deep pain that I know
Dark empty spaces that I tread
And my heart plays a melancholy strain
again
again.
Will you please listen to what I have to say?
Today, tomorrow, some other day?
Will you please listen to what I have to say?
Over a cup of coffee
Or perhaps some other day
By the road side stall
At the campus mall
Or anywhere at all
Will you please listen to what I have to say?
There is a deep pain that I know
Dark empty spaces that I tread
And my heart plays a melancholy strain
again
again.
Will you please listen to what I have to say?
Today, tomorrow, some other day?
poem#4
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, no concern!
Let this be a useless day
No dream or pursuit to dictate the way,
There is no urge to scale the peak
No mission to follow, no prize to seek!
...
With lots to do and lots to say...
There is nothing said and nothing done
There is no care, no concern!
Let this be a useless day
No dream or pursuit to dictate the way,
There is no urge to scale the peak
No mission to follow, no prize to seek!
...
And there is no losing a turtle race
No need to caution and no need to pace!
This is the day I am cast away
In the tacit grim of the soul I seek;
This is the day ‘I don’t know what to say’
All my efforts are fumbles bleak!
No need to caution and no need to pace!
This is the day I am cast away
In the tacit grim of the soul I seek;
This is the day ‘I don’t know what to say’
All my efforts are fumbles bleak!
Mugdho ar Shujon vai er hariye jawa
গতকাল আর আজ এর মধ্যে বিস্তর তফাত...
বেপারটা তো এমন নয় যে আপনার গোয়ালের গরু কিম্বা খামারের মুরগি জবাই করা হয়েছিল গতকাল
তাই আজ সেগুলো নেই;
মানুষ তো পয়দা হয় না গোয়ালেউ, খামারেউ;
আবার একই গোয়ালের(গর্ভের) সব মানুষ তো এক নয় - প্রতিজনেই আলাদা!
সেই আলাদা আলাদা এক এক জনের কত কত আলাদা আলাদা স্বপ্ন:
কেউ চায় বন বাদারে বেড়াতে, লাফাতে, সাতরাতে,
কেউ চায় আরো বিদেশে যেতে, শিখতে, শেখাতে;
সেই সব মানুষকে কি এত সহজে হারানো যায়?
সেই সব লাফানোর, বেড়ানোর, সাত্রানোর, শেখার, শেখানোর স্বপ্ন কি এত সহজে মারানো যায়?
আর কত বাস খাদে পর্বে?
আর কত জানাজা ভির করবে?
আর কত? আর কত? আর কত?
সব কিছুই যে আজ নিরর্থক লাগছে...
নিরর্থক সেই হামাগুড়ি, নিরর্থক সব ছোটাছুটি, নিরর্থক সব অর্থ খোজা...
এমনকি, হয়তবা, ভালবাসা আর বেদোনiউ আজ নিরর্থক!
বেপারটা তো এমন নয় যে আপনার গোয়ালের গরু কিম্বা খামারের মুরগি জবাই করা হয়েছিল গতকাল
তাই আজ সেগুলো নেই;
মানুষ তো পয়দা হয় না গোয়ালেউ, খামারেউ;
আবার একই গোয়ালের(গর্ভের) সব মানুষ তো এক নয় - প্রতিজনেই আলাদা!
সেই আলাদা আলাদা এক এক জনের কত কত আলাদা আলাদা স্বপ্ন:
কেউ চায় বন বাদারে বেড়াতে, লাফাতে, সাতরাতে,
কেউ চায় আরো বিদেশে যেতে, শিখতে, শেখাতে;
সেই সব মানুষকে কি এত সহজে হারানো যায়?
সেই সব লাফানোর, বেড়ানোর, সাত্রানোর, শেখার, শেখানোর স্বপ্ন কি এত সহজে মারানো যায়?
আর কত বাস খাদে পর্বে?
আর কত জানাজা ভির করবে?
আর কত? আর কত? আর কত?
সব কিছুই যে আজ নিরর্থক লাগছে...
নিরর্থক সেই হামাগুড়ি, নিরর্থক সব ছোটাছুটি, নিরর্থক সব অর্থ খোজা...
এমনকি, হয়তবা, ভালবাসা আর বেদোনiউ আজ নিরর্থক!
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