Men at work

I was happy in my virtual world

editing, chatting, working

playing with engaging words.

When all of a sudden

I find the net disconnected.

Work stationed! Didn’t know what to do

waited blankly for an hour or two,

I saw something, can I ever forget?

By chance I met

those corporation men

out of nowhere

shredding a tree

and with it, they cut for free

my helpless wire

hanging lost, in indifferent air

red with anger I was on fire!

How did this happen you tell me hey

they just said sorry and went away.

Countless phone calls waited with pain

for the men to come and connect me again,

it happens only in India said my friends

when surprises trap you from end to end.

I'm happy to be here smiling with you

they came late, but connected me anew.

Now, I keep a close watch on those men at work

​​​​​​​so they don’t cut me off with a virtual jerk.

Averse to judging a verse

Averse to judging a verse

At the temple

is the gate to liberty;

judgement is the lock

gratitude the key.

Let me write poetry

let me spare the bard

under the greenwood tree, on the road

his angst let me store, be free

in the infinite peaceful abode

follow his advice, quit the dry books

with heavy looks

drink his words of worth

keep them all around, inside me.

Hold your tongue please,

let me love; read and write the lines

on the leaves, brown and green

wherever the heart lies

in vices, virtues, at every scene

let me take them in, at ease.

O what do they care

those budding fruits

blooming flowers

meadows and showers

rainbows, seas, thunders

O what do they care

those chirpy singers

let me read and write the lines

look at them without infliction and lies

embrace them just as they are

not scratch them with an incompetent scar.

If words express the chaos and cadence

with truthful pain and pleasure

not with designed pretence

then with gratitude I will

hug them and treasure.

In the journey of life as I

move along

my forehead locks

to judge the songs;

it unblocks, loving the lines,

their hues and cries

as gratefully witness

my ears and eyes.

ওহে বনলতা

Google images

  

ওহে বনলতা

তোমাকে স্বাগত জানায় দেখ

তোমারি কলকাতা

ছোট্ট শিশুটি ফুটফুটে শ্বাস

নিয়েছিল যে মাটির বুকে

রূদ্ধ করা সংসারের গ্রাস

চাপা ছিল এতদিন অন্ধকারে, 

নিদারুণ দুঃখে

তোমার শহর থেকে কাল হরণ করেছিল তোমায়

তার ক্ষুদ্র হিংসুটে প্রয়োজনে

আজ তোমারি জন্যে

সেই মহাকাল, হার মেনে
ফিরিয়ে দিচ্ছে দেখ, 

তোমারি আদরের আলয়ে

সমুদ্রের ঢেউয়ের মত পূর্ণ সচেতনে

তোমার অতি পরিচিত মহানগরের আলোয়

প্রাণ খোলা আকাশে, বাতাসে বিশ্বাস নিয়ে

তাই উন্মুক্ত কর নতুন সবুজ পাতা
লেখ এবার তোমার নবজন্মের কবিতা
ওহে মহিয়সী, ওহে বিদূষী, ওহে মেয়ে

ওহে কালজয়ী নাটরের আহ্লাদি বনলতা

তোমাকে স্বাগত জানায় দেখ

তোমারি সতেজ, প্রাণবন্ত কলকাতা

অনেক বছর পর, একটি আদূরে, আহ্লাদি মেয়ে তার বহু পূরাতন শহরে ফিরছে। তার এই ফেরার আনন্দে কবিতাটি লেখা হ’ল।

No it is not strange

Strange.

People who talk of kindness

only talk

get accolades for placing the words

like jewels, ornaments

but kindness smirks at them for sure

gift them with ego
remaining beyond the reach
from users of words so kind and rich.

On the other hand

there are these Janes and Johns

slogging and sweating it out, off and on

for days and nights, like dalits*

without any act of kindness 
from people who talk about it.

Strange.

There are these people 
who never talk of unkindness.

Note: 

dalits* (in the traditional Indian caste system), dalits are members of the lowest Indian caste. They are even lower than the shudras, considered as untouchables. For a long time, in India, toilets were manually cleaned by them, and they had to, under strict instructions, wear a bell around their necks, like cattle, so that Brahmins and other upper castes could keep safe distance from them. It was considered a sin to touch them, even their shadows, therefore the bells.

offering

I have happily come to realize

that I have no specialty

nothing to offer to the world

that is of any worth

friends here succeed

but I have no regret

I do have my tears to support,

to take me to a far off land

where 
I could here the fulfilling murmurs

I could weep to my heart’s content

merge my salty pearls within you
I have borne the sorrow of the entire race

let me moan into the ever accepting blue

on behalf of all my friends

the wealth of losses has made me stand out

they my stepping stares

to reach unto you
they my scattered shells on the beach

to weave a necklace for you

the goldfish and the sun

how is this possible

a goldfish unable to swim

a sun struggling to shine

there must be a pond

or a sky

somewhere

where

with open arms

waters befriend the born swimmer

sky succors the star not to succumb

the sun-flower smirking at the sun

the sand molesting the fish

even in their blues

the golden creatures in me

keep glowing

in the hope

of a patient ocean

catapulting a pleasing sky

the goldfish and the sun

waiting to be

Flash

Google images

Flash

I was seeing my eyes

In thousands of those blinking stars

In an instant they become candles

Inside me

Eyes closed
clouds prepared to fall in love
with the peacock dancing

Glint of colors
silvers and yellows

Glow

Every little life flowing outside

Burning senselessly

With great care

Destroying pure desires into smokes, ashes

Prosecuting hosts as intruders
Myriad eyes

With inextinguishable flames

Gushing ceaseless drops

Soften the embers

As fillings in the holes

For a split second they turn into eyes

Like bubbles, and become blind again

My eyes have the strength to push the rock
relentlessly, relive the mirthful moments
in those flashes

Memories

It will not wither

It's not a newspaper

Like a novel it's to stay

Not disappear in yesterday.

It will not burn

It’s not a candle

Like the sun it's to flame and remain

Light up your dark space again.

It will not come and go

It’s not a sporadic rainbow

Like a canvas with its glow and hues

It’s sure to rest inside you.

It will not sing only in Noël*

It’s not a carol by a seasonal Koel*  

Like the daily chirps whistling into years

It will ring and nest in your ears.

Memories murmuring moments

Mellow, merge, misunderstand, marry

Meanings, moods meander, mock, melt
Moving minds, mingle, mar, make merry.

Note:

1. Noël - Christmas

2. Koel - The Asian koel (Eudynamys scolopaceus)is a member of the cuckoo order of birds, the Cuculiformes. It is found in the Indian Subcontinent, China, and Southeast Asia. The Asian koel is a brood parasite that lays its eggs in the nests of crows and other hosts, who raise its young. They are unusual among the cuckoos in being largely frugivorous as adults. The name koel is echoic in origin with several language variants. The bird is a widely used symbol in Indian poetry.

Copycat

Google images

In this world of tit for tat

I am not a copy cat

If you hit me, do I hit back?

Ah no, for this I have no knack.

You press the anger button

Do I become angry?

Ah no, try me.
I am not a machine but a human

To negatives I don’t give entry.

I am good and light this way

I shoo all the disease-germs away

If you want you may also try that

For love of life we can be our copy cat.

Thoughts in the greenroom

One could sense the heat
in your eyes, on your face
though you leave a mild trace
perhaps your victory is in your defeat?

Then why do the thoughts
travel in silence, for ages
freeze in your minds,
mountains and icebergs
never come out
not even as mud, rivulets
on the waiting page;
who has fastened your mouth
covered your visage
what fear do you have
feelings bickering inside
burning in the kitchens
failing on beds,
bruised in the open market place
a mound in the womb
inside, never to see light?

The relegated volumes
could turn them
into a new chapter
if you unearthed some
from your cemented souls
sky could fall in your garden
looking for the shining stars
if the saplings came out from your greenroom
appeared on the stage.

Your not wanting to speak
rains in teardrops
inundating every home of the world,
still homes
you efface your own letters
before they could
form into words,
what could keep the thoughts
so long in prison.
The tired stretch of silence
tied for years
seems to loosen
appears to screech
tends to break apart
constantly simmers.