The tree

Image courtesy: Google images

I am a tree, with a name

My flowers, fruits

Never approved of your taste

They Seemed Strange

I lay on the ground fixed

My branches though travel in the air

It has a map in your world Known

Yet you sit in my shade

Nameless Darkness

Drooling out of light

My enlightenment
Falls
With everything I am, I have

Gives you a familiar comfort

Like Any Other tree

Whose everything

Fits your sense

Times, with daughter

Good morning to you all, hey!

I am thrilled, excited

I am going on a date

With my daughter today

I have never felt so complete and rich

All knotty, gloomy clouds gushing out from within

She asked me out; with me she’d spend some time

I’m in seventh heaven now, aren’t I in cloud nine

I saw her up, through time through the years

Sleeping on my lap, easing out her fears

We sang, played and danced, we talked high and low

Times in my eyes had seen her bloom and grow

I asked her, why date with baba*, hey you pretty miss?

My witty child replied, so you chime a rhyme on this

Note: *baba: In bengali, baba means father

At a time when I am struggling to survive, to make ends meet, my daughter, who has just started working, asks me out! I am rejuvenated and wanted to keep this feeling just as it should be, as a reminder that despite all the fiscal losses, I am rich, that nothing is lost.

ঝম ঝম ঝম

Image credit: Google images

বর্ষার কাল মেঘ এসেছে

চারিদিকের ঘিরে

ধুলোজলে মেশা গন্ধে আর প্রকান্ড গাছের দোলে

মলিন ক্লান্তি খ’সে পড়ছে

মনের মেঘকে দুলিয়ে দিয়েছে

চিন্তাদুঃখকে আর বন্ধ ক’রে রাখতে পারছিনা

চোখে, কানে ধূলো ঢুকছে

আমার মনের ধূলো খিলখিলিয়ে বেরিয়ে

ভেঙ্গে পড়া আকাশে যাচ্ছে মিশে

ভিতরের কঠীন শব্দেভরা ঘ্যানঘ্যানে গদ্য

মেঘের আওয়াজে গান হ’য়ে বেরিয়ে আসছে

আমার কানে কিছু জল-মাটি ঢুকে বলে গেল

নরম ক’রে, কবিতার মত

দেখিস! আজ বিরাট কিছু একটা হবে

এর চেয়ে আর কি বেশি হ’তে পারে!

আমি ভাঙ্গছি,

ভিজছি

আর শুনছি

ঝম, ঝম, ঝম

power to continue with the passion

Image credit: Google images

With passion, without noise,

Do what you can do

Like flowers that bloom, fish that swim,

Birds that fly and sing

Listen to your inner voice

Leave the rest

For good, better, best

Degrees outside of you

Can hardly silence you from within

There were these people

There were these people

In the marketplace, malls, multiplex

Sitting, chatting, binging, boozing, talking about sex

Some bitching about their mothers-in-law, bosses

The arena was filled with fun, chatter, and blabber

Adorned with smirks, grins, groans, laughter...

Dancing with the chirps, in the actions and the art

I was there in every mouth, in every heart

In every sense, in every nerve and vein

I watched deceit, generosity,

Friendship, glamour, fraternity,

In the busyness, laziness of the place

If there were conceits and fights, too there was warmth and grace.

Boom!

In a minute everything changed

In all the organs and feelings, where I dwelt

A strange bright colour flowing from them, amazed

All dreams, poems are suddenly put to rest.

If I reside in this abrupt blue,

I dwell in the boom too!

Let me watch now, how this is dealt

Angry, horrified brains are now sitting, discussing

How to commit a crime like the actors

To show them how creative intellects are

I tried to whisper in them, in vain

That’s a hurricane with a different name

Your angers won’t dump the storm dear women and men.

My people, my world shuns the criminals, not the crime

Both immortal become, through the passage of time

Killing the act has no place in the room

Actors on the ground survive through the boom.

I am watching this without guilt or shame

How tomorrows present this move on game

There were these people...

Hats off

Hats off to humankind

Intelligent and powerful, if you please

Invented conflict into the world

But is yet to discover peace

Civilisations replete with wealth, wherewithal

Flawless, thronged with luscious charms

Crops here stack, blight and crawl,

Treasured weapons fly, empower tense arms

Friendship bounces back, on every Samaritan’s walls

Enamour the ears and the eyes

Delightful and pleasing aesthetics

Entertainment and condolence here lie

In selective, deaf and dumb gimmicks

Poverty of a kind, forever feeds the rich

Pockets overflow with slaphappy contests

Who has it the most, who is the best

Colourful thinking hats subdue fresh efforts futile

Hysteric people gunned their own simple smile

Blindness is the vision, armistice; put anew to rest

Cheers to growth and development

Networks, sky-ways, and freeways concur to connect

Yet hearts off and on, chime a harrowing piece

For the paths appear to be strong, but unstable and weak

History meets in time, as the ignored witness meek

Hats off to humankind

Intelligent and powerful, if you please

Invented conflict into the world

But is yet to discover peace

Reminder

Image credit: Google images

Inside the box, a pathway

a dream lies

hands that wrote and sang

myriad stories

from the waves on the sands

from the flowers to the brooks

eyes looked for colours

scarlet and gray united as one

beyond black and white reality

ears heard the tune from a distant land

an aria that thrilled the heart

waiting to be devoured in time.

It once looked for mangoes in October

coloured the dove, caressed by the few  

hummed a tune that sounded like the dew

the bird tried to flutter its wings

inspirited song did the heart sing

reveries from within, requiems died

now in deep slumber,

a silent world inside.

In this silence

freshly deceased dream

gleaming in flame-like waves

with flower-like warmth, essence

through the dispossessed organs

a keepsake

exuding through a stream

in quiet footsteps

Unmoved

Sedentary sun

has made the moon

to take a round

not from his ribs or bones

flesh or blood

words insensate on the numinous pages

but from his ardor to watch

day and night

with the luminous stars

the world is in the dark

searching for light

Reflections of the world

Image credit: Google images

Curtain unwilling to fall, it drops

Time waits inside the minds

Of surprise-less spectators

What they’re going to see is seen

Thousands of times before

Curtain raises, theatre begins.

Obstinate insanity

Irritation without provocation

Pelting heart-shaped stones here and there to hurt

Incoherent cruel words pop from the brain

Masked in kindness on the dais

Notorious show of power, violence

These are reflections of the world.

It is inflicted with ulcer

Doesn’t want to visit a doctor

Recognizes the disease as remedy

Wants to keep the other wanting

For more

With names of disarmament,

Sensitizes people starving for food

On global warming

To safeguard the endangered environment

Where sentient beings are never its part

Teachers have failed in their breaths
Gallons of wealth bleeding out

To mobilise arms, weapons instead of crops.

Stop! Stop, stop... lame words beat the eardrums non-stop

But congealed organs are fixed at one point

Incapable to learn and cure

The power to live in peace freezes inside

Smiling with unease to meet death

There’s no bewilderment, no awe, no astonishment

Teachers, doctors have left the premises long ago

They lost their roles in the hands of eccentric deliberations

Living in false admiration to build and heal

They see like us, without any shout, appeal.

Mirrors have broken in the dressing room

Stage refusing to support, but willy-nilly performs its role

With popcorn words

For the spectators and the actors

Lunacy is ecstasy

Powerless performers die in the hands of audiences

They mimic our thoughts

Conflict is the reason to live

Peace the reason to die

These are the reflections of the world.

Unwilling curtain drops

Time waits in the minds of surprise-less audience

For the next episode, for the next generation

With unmistakable prediction of the same bitterness

Until the fire burns the uneasy organs

Reflects light through its own reflection

Cries, howls, destroys the thoughts dead and blind

Caressing with warmth those ignorant minds

Ignites them to life, burns those insecure weapons

Pounding heavy in the hearts

Commands the curtain to drop

The useless histrionics

To stop! Stop, stop.

Written world

Image credit: Google images

When the popper sings and begs

When the monger calls and sells

When the bombs blast to kill

When the flowers bloom to heal

When with differences countries fight

On horizon-stages that unite

In the presence or absence

Of the sun and the moon

As a curse or as a boon

With my folly and my sense

In dullness or delight

I write.

In everything I feel, see or hear

I find my poems hidden or clear

My words beyond successes failures

They come from the mind gushing through the nerves

Seldom would they be in the wrong or in the right

They’d just write.

I have volumes of leaves

In those branches of trees

They don’t have names are hanging to fall

Come back they’d again and rise without a call

Observant with acceptance, always feather light

They’d simply write.

Yet there’s one hope in the words!

That drizzles on the page!

That peace rains in my world!

Released, from the cloudy cage

Sometimes words rhyme, sometimes they don’t

At times they’re read at times left alone

Like the flower in a corner noticed or unheard

I rewrite like I breathe in my wonderful world.