Faith

Faith is a qualification.
Not everybody has it.

It gives you a passport
to the real world.

Once achieved,
it never expires, dies.

The fake world
you learn is a pack
of lies.

Waves of thought

 

Big waves looking down upon
small waves.
Small waves feel small
big waves, tall.

With their forms, they have
names, their identities.
Giganwaves, the Gs don't talk to
Dwarvwaves, the Ds;

One day the ocean said
two things to
the Gs and the Ds,
they're not the same,
and they're going to die
whatever their stature be.

Not the same, we know!
But die? Oh!
The waves, big and small,
were sad, they wept real hard,
they roared real bad
the ocean, they thought could lie!

At last, they went to Asilomar,
a Saintwave, the real star.

Asilomar said
they're much the same,
they're never going to die,
repeated there's no difference
between them.

No difference! Weird!
But never to die? It must be fun,
but how, they asked.
The Gs and the Ds were told,
regardless of their names,
forms, roles, faults and strengths,
they're all water, all one.

All one? How weird, said the
untouchable Ds, stunned!
Ridiculous, snapped the
standoffish Gs! 

The Saintwave went on…

You, the Gs, the Ds, are one,
much as those froths, the foams
that land on the shores.
From the ocean they 
might one day
be a cloud in the sky,
fall as raindrops
on the lands, rivers, or ponds 
to let flowers bloom, fruits, crops
grow, the earth glow;
each of them is life,
the Gs, the Ds alike;
they will continue to flow 
roll or fly
but they'll never ever die. 

Influenced by the Adwaita Vedanta

একদিন সব ঠিক হয়ে যাবে

একদিন সব ঠিক হয়ে যাবে

আকাশ জুড়ে মেঘ
জানি সরে যাবে
বৃষ্টি ঝরে মাটির তৃষ্ণা
মেটাবে।  

এ ঋতুর নিয়ম। 
ঝরঝরে রোদ্দুর উঠবে
ফুলে ফলে শষ্যে ছাইবে
চারিদিক।  

আমার অনিয়ম মনের
মেঘ কাটে না, পারিপার্শিক
কুটিলতা জটিলতার
আঁধার কাটে না, কাটে না,
কাটে না।  

আমার মত শতসহস্র প্রাণী
অনবরত বুকের রক্ত
জল করে রাতদিন কাটাচ্ছে
ঝরছে চোখের জল অনর্গল।  

এ ঋতু যাবার নয় 
আমাদের যত দুঃখ
আক্ষেপ গ্লানি
আনন্দের বেশে
কখনও গান হয়ে,
কবিতায় নৃত্যে নাটকে 
খেলার ছলে ভালবেসে
দৈনন্দিন জীবন যাপন
করছে। করে চলেছে।

সকলের মনে তবু
একরাশ আশা
ছোটবড় ঘরে
অনুক্ষণ যাওয়া আসা
সবাই লিখছে বলছে
ভাবছে নীরবে সরবে
মেঘ কাটবে, বসন্ত আসবে 
হিংসার তৃষ্ণাও মিটবে 
একদিন সব ঠিক হয়ে যাবে।  

In the land of Tagore

from before we all knew

there's nothing new

in the news

horror, terror,

more of rape and murder

it hits us it hurts us to the core

future, old like the yore

in the land of Tagore 

worlds

world...

a confused bauble

world...

a passing bubble 

Why did she have to die

 

how can i not write a word
how can i not put it on record 
what happened in the premises 
of the college and hospital,
the now haunted R. G. Kar

my words, dumb on the page, 
i feel numb with rage, 
the doctor on duty
violated, brutally murdered 
no hospitality, only hostility
delivered with numerous scars
in the monsters' seminar
room, her wounds went unheard
when she was struggling to live
succumbed to death, the soldier
doctor with dreams, the caregiver
had to leave

she longed to live, let others
live; had she been allowed
to breathe she'd have
cured many diseased,
could have solaced
the families of the deceased 

she laid her life on a cloudy day
a thousand eyes rained 
there wasn't any smell
of petrichor, the dastardly act put
the belittled calcuttans to shame
on their pride, their maligned
R. G. Kar

the question that chokes
us to death - where's the safety
for women, how could we have
faith on the system unable to protect,
how could we have confidence
on the likes of the principal kingpins
who rule, govern, yet who lied
to the bereaved family of their girl child

calcutta, the new and the old
the mourning men, women
in manifold enlightened the dark
streets of the city, claimed the night, 
on the fourteenth of August
those who burst into tears, their eyes dry, hearts bold,
they need to be told, answered with clarity 
as to why did she have to die

I am it

path to spirituality
is the way to ecstasy  

who am I, answered with clarity 
truth without misery

rest, a lane not to rely
on, for it is the lamest lie

জীবন্ত

দিদি পুড়ছে
ইলেকট্রিক চুল্লি 
দাউ দাউ আগুন 
নিচু হয়ে দেখলাম
একটা গল্প শেষ 

আমরা দাঁড়িয়ে অপেক্ষা করছি
কখন পোড়া শেষ হবে
অস্থি নিয়ে নদীতে ভাসাব 
বাড়ি যাব 

অগ্নি জল
জল অগ্নি 

এর মধ্যে কত কাহিনী
আগুনে জ্বলে জল
হয়ে যায় 

আমার দিদির মত
আগে আমার মা, বাবা
আমার আদরের মামু
কেউ ছবি হয়ে ঝুলছে
কেউ ইতিহাস 

আমরা সবাই যাব
ছোট বড় ধনী গরীব
তবু কোথায় যেন
আমি মরব না, এই
আশ্বাস আমাদের সবাইকে 
আছন্ন করে রাখে 

তাই এত ঝগড়া
এত মারামারি কাটাকাটি
কোথাও মায়ে সন্তানে
কোথাও আবার জাতি
শ্রেণীর রকমারি বৈষম্যে

শ্মশানে দাঁড়িয়ে মনে হল
'আমরাও মরব' যদি
প্রতিটি মানুষকে ছোটবেলা
থেকে শেখানো যেত
বাড়িতে, পাঠশালায়
নিহত হতো না হয়ত
মানুষ কথার অহংকারে
গুলি গালাজের বাজারে
পৃথিবী হত শান্ত, জীবন্ত  

আমরা ফিরে এলাম।

think again

 

yes, you have the right, my friend
to feel left out, sad, vapid
your angst is just and valid
so is your unspeakable pain
yet if you look at the world
where there are these survivors
whose actions louder than words
they’re the heroes, the victors
seldom to sense freedom
never to taste the fruits of their labors
countless men, women, children
their sufferings without ends
who survive the poetic sunshine,
refreshingly rejuvenating rain
no shelter to share

if you think your life’s unfair
look around and think again

ignorance

everybody knows
what those blind men
thought of the elephant
but when they get into
speculation about
how the world was
created, they cannot see
their blindness, why
nobody knows

nobody knows
why what happened
before time, what is
outside the space,
why the world was created
are erroneous questions
but that
when, where, why
before, outside
are words of time,
space, causation
everybody knows

everybody knows
they are this
they are not that
yet who the self is
nobody knows

nobody knows
who the inevitable
player is
but who the waker, the dreamer,
the deep sleeper is
everybody knows

everybody knows the
havoc the world
is subjected to, that it
is a prey, everybody knows
but that the predator is
the ignorance, nobody knows,
that it is neither good
nor evil
nobody knows