Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Response

The sun was somber,
apprehensive;
It was looking at the clouds
beginning to weave an image
of a cobweb that’d soon
cover it, along with its glow.

Looking at this,
you were writing on the page.
Words had totally covered
your feelings, much like the mesh above.
In the meantime,
the poorly drawn cobweb was done,
it did cloud the sun
soon, a gloom took over the day
your words, your structures
are failing you as you write…
pages wasted in lifeless letters.
You are unable to draw the exact picture
with the acceptable rules of the craft
still your image of verse is so deep and strong
that you cannot go beyond
the prescribed guidelines
you are also scared of being outcast
even when the gossamer has cleared
the text on the page, washed away.
The sun is on its track
smiling, glowing and gleaming
at you, so you could peacefully
personify your response.

Monday, September 26, 2016

Eagerness to bring to light the imaginative



Lost in the physical
In every minute,
The frenzied world though
Writes and talks about
The non-physical.

Confused in the erudite debate
Between truth and lie
Condemned to be trapped and irate
In the destiny of debris
Each one of us
Pushing the insipid rock
Of the punished Sisyphus.

There is this someone
Waiting for the world,
Perhaps to wake up
Or to tae a plunge into an awakening
Slumber, instead of
Blaming anyone for the retribution
For in the court where the judge and the victim stand
The onlookers don’t see the struggle
Of that someone in the forsaken land

Trouble seems to be with
The three-letter word
Does it need to be cleared?
From the heavy, déjà-vu mind
Word that’s abused
From the time we left the abode
We called our home.

How would it matter!
The world wonders
But the desperate dais needs to live
For the sake of existence
It needs to re-create ways
Of survival
Words wouldn’t help
Feelings perhaps simple and naïve
Could usher in the light.

It is light, it is light
Keep your eyes closed or ajar
Through the door
It enters and simplifies
All defining words
Without limits of what it is
And what it is not
Unties the most stubborn knots
No need to name and fight
This the world accepts
Dives deep in unending delight.

Sunday, September 25, 2016

The light

I am wandering light
floating…
The world is the sky
I have one moon, one sun
In my eyes
They rotate and change places
At ease
I choose the sun of dawn
And the dreamy moon
Even in the loud afternoons
And stark moonless nights
My eyes radiate the aurora
Of dawns and moonbeams
In the powerful vivid seat
I am at times the throne
Sometimes the king
And at other times the lounge
I lose my aggression, possession and identity
In the light
On the stage
I care for every little feelings
So what do I care
For other things
I am bedeviled
In the sparkle
Not engaged in the argument
If the light is mine or borrowed
For as long as I roam inside the shine
I maybe the king, or the throne
Or the seat in this sky
With the sun and the moon
In my eyes

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Being peripheral



You were gracing the sun and the balcony
The window, hiding behind the breezy winds
The vast and pronounced evening shadows
Were playing a symphony.

In this beautiful, silent moment
I was just another company
A lowly poet, cheap and ready
With catchy and attractive rhyming stance
Floating and warring
Content on the surface of those
Dense ‘sous-entendu’ words.
I was merely peripheral
Engaged in cosmetics,
Never inside the content
Groping for the ‘non-dit’.

It is little wonder
I had to remain as a number
Like a brown paper cover
With a silver ribbon
Upon which, the giver pens
About the intent;
Though this importance
Is temporarily noticed
In a while
It is to be fearlessly throw out
When the unexplored, wild
Twilight, a treasure within, unfolds,
A language beyond words re-opens.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Irrelevant


To you, lot has remained untold
now it has lost its relevance,
so I’m silent.

Still
many moments were caught
during our honeymoon
in the solo pictures I took of you
in my camera
with your myriad enticing gestures.

Seeing them after such a long time I felt found,
I also saw many videos
of our family, stages of our world.
But how can I say I saw them?
All of them are beating in the shelf of your house
I saw them with my eyes closed
that’s why
I let them rest here.

The machines are not there anymore, neither the hand
nor the eye;
it dusted in the cupboard for long,
suddenly sold it online.

Why it gathered carelessness should have been understood
but there was no time to think…
for then
our hands were on the desktops
our eyes on the lonely screen.

Now we are wandering outside these daily impressions
closing the eyes is so dear to me
is it the same for you too
perhaps
or perhaps not
maybe you’re looking at other images
buying some other appareil.

We have lost ourselves from each other
never can we find this ‘us’, as it were,
through the same days and nights
under the same sky
facing or back facing the sun
we have lost our relevance
so let some irrelevant moments

remain closed in my eyes.

অপ্রাসঙ্গিক


অনেক কথাই বলতে পারিনি তোমাকে
এখন তার প্রাসঙ্গিকতা হারিয়েছে
তাই বলছিনা
তবু
তোমার নানা ভঙ্গিমার একক ছবি
আমাদের মধুচন্দ্রিমার সময়ে
আমারি হাতে তোলা, আমার ক্যামেরাএ
খানিকটা ধরা পড়েছিল
এখন এতদিন পরে দেখে আমার মনে হলো
দেখলাম ভিডিওতে তোলা নানারকম ছবি
আমাদের পরিবার, সংসারের ছবি দেখলাম
দেখলাম আর বলি কি করে
কেননা ওগুলো তোমার বাড়ির ধুলোমাখা তাকেই আছে
চোখ বন্ধ করে দেখতে পেলাম, তাই লিখছি
এই কবিতাতেই থাকুক ধরা

সেই ক্যামেরাও আর নেই, হাতও নেই
নেই সেই চোখ
অনেক দিন ধুলো পড়েছিল, তাই
হঠাৎ একদিন ঠিক করে
অনলাইনএ বিক্রি করে দিয়েছিলাম
কেন ধুলো পড়েছে তখনি বোঝা উচিত ছিল
কিন্তু তা নিয়ে ভাববার সময় ছিল না
তখন আমাদের হাত ছিল শুধু কম্পিউটার এর ওপর
আর চোখ ছিল একাকী স্ক্রিনএ

এখন আমরা এই সব দৈনন্দিন ছবির
বাইরে ঘুরে বেড়াচ্ছি
চোখ বন্ধ করে তাই আমার কাছে বড় প্রিয়
তোমারও কি তাই
হয়তো তাই
হয়তো বা তা নাও হতে পারে
হয়তো তুমি এখন অন্য ছবি দেখছো
অন্য ক্যামেরা কিনছো

আমরা দুজনে দুজনের থেকে হারিয়ে গেলাম
আর কোনোদিন আগের মতো করে খুঁজে পাবনা
একইরকম দিনরাতের মধ্যে
একই আকাশের তলায়
একই সূর্যকে মুখোমুখি বা আড়ালে রেখে
আমরা আমাদের প্রাসঙ্গিকতা হারিয়েছি
তাই অপ্রাসঙ্গিক কিছু মুহূর্ত
এখানেই ধরা থাকুক 

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

The cry


There’s this blankness in the air,
everything on the loose
crying raw, raw, rawraw!

Integrity has left in search of another moon
for now, dewdrops in the mornings
are written off as rains by historians
misguided people are busy separating
perfumes from sandal woods,
warmth from the moving cadavers.

Imbalance has become the plat du jour,
insomnia is the new intellectual identity,
art of killing, backstabbing is the new-found intelligence
anything else is seen as a recipe for non-sense.

Businesses somehow survive without users,
for only in advertisements we see creative work, kind words,
what is not innate has become resident for good
all neighborhoods have gone back into the woods,
but even here they are unruly, disobedient strangers,
fleshes and bloods have become hard, as solid red irons.

The pumping heart is useless in living bodies;
from those who are dead, it has fled
like a screeching bird, chirping a strange cry
looking for another sky.

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

The giving

The world
An endless garden
With pouring silver golden gifts
From morning to morning
Without reason
A constant thanksgiving
For every sentient being
Thanks for coming again and again
In winter and in rain
In autumn and in summer
In most anywhere, everywhere
We are singing this song
In behalf of the garden
It's the giving all the way, all along
Without expectations and without any reason.

Calling your name


You didn't come back
My sky, dark-circled with winds
In the midst of smoky clouds
I am calling you
The sound is losing its sharpness
In the middle of the thunders
I hear them
Are these your footsteps?
Sounds appear as mountains
Where’d I go from this time and place!
I wish my sky could run into you,
From where you walked away
And never came back
What’d I do in this deserted moment and space?
Except to call your name

The deep sleep



To war has gone deep
Inside the world’s sub-conscious
Like the hand that reaches
Towards the pack of cigarettes
Or the leg that controls the speed
Of a plying car
Or the ship that understands and avoids
The frozen disaster

Weapons of destruction
Poverty that’s on the run
Famines and droughts
Throughout the globe, up and about
Are the invisible white magnet
That attracts, automates intellect
Through some compulsive instruction

To break away from these wired
Orchestrated truths
The path will have to be the same
The car has to follow the same track
The ship has to overcome the attraction
Through the same consciousness

That wakes us up from the sleep

Monday, September 12, 2016

Games die hard


One die
Calculation of numbers
In trained memories

Focus trapped in the crafted stage
Concentration to win
Stress on the game board

Players don’t want to be losers
Unintelligent fools
The die, with care, on the loose

Here everything is fair
For winners are dudes
Duds, of no use

Are there any distractions
That could question the engagement
Of this killing entertainment

For the world, a round board
Is dying in the golden hands

Of its clever inhabitants

The adulterous moon

The moon shivers
On the river
Smiles kindly at the worshippers
And showers light on their enemies

Earthquake felt afar
On the horizon that
fluttered like a caged bird

it’s a moonlighting night
but can the star
be questioned
for its inconsistency

the trembling river was trying
to digest flesh
in the unfaithful spring
full of flowers and birds
with twigs and herbs

every other creature
was in deep sleep
to let the shame pass
when the moon with leisure
betrayed its followers

Thursday, September 8, 2016

In search of internal innovation


Pink moon of another night,
wants to bring newness in the boring sky
but the blue horror in an airy mess
summons the sun.

If there’s no new death,
no new birth
say the skinny pages
no deluding the blackjacks
the real authors of those leaves
light with dryness
they fly in search of oil and artwork
to give the moony white back
into the nocturnal star
they look like starving assassins
the spelling carries two asses with sins
two enemies intoxicated like twins
a drunken stupor
the sun stares, then smiles
in its usual color.

In the presence of all
these meaningful people
you are absent, inert
sitting like the unused gland
maybe they’d have got
what they wanted
like peace, for instance
or prosperity, for a change .

But no, they want others below them
more than their upping
a flock scared to change color
on and off the stage.

On the ground
some boys play holy
with the bowwow mongrels
they’re busy licking.

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

You touched, I healed


You called
I suddenly popped up from the clouds
Clots from my mind cleared
I had bruises all over my self
Nothing, that nothing matters
Right and wrong change sides
Everything clears on its own
Like the stars up there
Shining day and night

You smiled
I could see your form
That reflected in the still pristine water
Doubts shivered for a second
You danced even then
Still again
Your smile showed clearly

In between you and not you
There are words
Nothing else matters, nothing does
I could see me tearing open
The curtain of clouds

In between us
There are these lifeless words
Licensed to depict anything as any other thing
I cleared the invented words
Beyond them you stand
Beneath them you dance
Beside them you smile
In the blank you call

In lightness
You touched
I healed