Monday, June 29, 2020

নিজের গল্প



কত লোক হাটছে দেখ, 
বাসে, ট্রামে ঝুলছে দেখ
কিম্বা যারা লকডাউনে
বাড়ির ভিতর বন্দি আছে, 
বন্ধ ঘরে বেকার হয়ে 
হতাশ হয়ে বসে আছে, 
কাছে গিয়ে জিজ্ঞেস কর
সবার কাছেই লুকিয়ে রাখা
সুখদুঃখের গল্প আছে। 

কান্না, হাঁসির কথা কত
স্মৃতির খাতায় লেখা আছে
কারুর গাথা প্রকাশ পেলেও
বেশিরভাগই হারিয়ে যায়
ঝরাপাতার ঠিকানায়। 

তবুও তারা লিখে চলে, 
জীবন দিয়ে কথা বলে, 
প্রতি ক্ষণে, প্রতি পলে, 
মরে, বাঁচে, যুদ্ধ করে
নিজের গল্প ঘরে বাইরে
নিজের তালেই ঘোরে ফেরে। 

©সুপ্রতীক সেন

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

Your presence

Your presence

Your presence that 
I feel in your absence
blinds my eyes, 
it tears me apart;
the existence of me
as me, it seems
cannot be felt anymore, 
all of my being
rendered meaningless. 

Yet, I imagine your footsteps, 
your disapproving, indulgent, 
affectionate looks with their 
layers of meanings, your 
velvety voice, intoxicating 
touch, suddenly bring me 
back to me, like a thirsty 
traveler whose tired feet 
had just touched an oasis, 
and who was kneeling down
to seek your forgiveness. 

I feel you are giving me a hand
through the gentle waves 
filling my tired, dried passage
with your passionate embrace,
with your quenching essence.

©Supratik Sen

Love



I grew up learning
From here and there
That love was blind
I wondered why, 
Until I heard Dalai Lama, 
Ever so longanimous 
And relevant say that, 
Love was the 
absence of judgement. 

Thursday, June 18, 2020

Pray



Pray
There's no other way
In the midst of invented wars
Sadness and stress
You'll discover peace,
Infinite bliss, happiness
Pray
There's no other way

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

বিষের ওপর বিষ



বিষের ওপর বিষ, নিয়ে এল বিশ্বে
এই বিশ-বিশ, একদিকে 
মহামারীর হুঙ্কার, এল না করোনার
আজও কোনও চিকিৎসার হদিস, 
যুদ্ধের সর্বনাশা চীৎকার অন্যদিকে
ছড়াচ্ছে হতাশার হাহাকার। 

খেটে খাওয়া মজদুর হেঁটে ফিরছে 
দেখ বহুদূর, তাদের ফেলে আসা ঘরে, 
পেটের খিদে মেটানোর আশা, 
চোখের কোল বেয়ে কান্না হয়ে ঝরে। 

কবে হবে এ অবসাদের অবসান
প্রশ্ন করি তোমায়, হে ভগবান। 
এ যে আমাদেরই কর্মফল আর 
কিছুই নয়, এ গরল, এ বিষ 
ধ্বংস করার শক্তি দাও শুধু
আর একটিবার, হে আললাহ, 
হে যিশু, হে নীলকন্ঠ, হে নিরাকার। 

Monday, June 15, 2020

Strange











Right in the middle of the troubled lands, 
the intelligent brains have won many accolades,
they have conquered
 the outer space, yet the
thinking hearts 
are unable to win their minds;
with reason, none could find a win-win way
to concur, to discover a system robust and strong
not to kill and fight. Strange that both are right,
yet both, equally wrong. 

In the countries recharged with animosity,
bitterness, 
and disaster, catapulted with
mindless weapons, devious arms endorsing 
ceaseless killing, spilling of blood, a poet,
like a stranger, stretches its arms 
and writes
about the resurgence 
of friendship in the
peace-loving minds of the neighbors. 

The reality is dark, things are falling apart
countries, as it were, are concentrating
on how to harm, how to hurt each other;
making the sellers of weapons richer, year
after year, like Kalidasa, who was seen
cutting the 
branch of the tree on which
he was sitting, 
they both are severing
their own developments, their own growths,
they’re sabotaging their own economies; 
strange that they'll continue to be sincere enemies,  
no one, no citizen tells the leaders to focus
on growth, not to indulge in senseless fights,
that killing is not winning, it is never right.

But the poet helplessly ignores all of this!
Perpetually in the winsome world,
permanently in bliss, paints a picture
of prosperity, opulence, and happiness;
the non-judgmental eyes see more
of understanding, of camaraderie,
like intoxicating, deep-rooted folklore,
the yearning ears hear the appeal from
the mosques from the breaking dawn
to the parting dusk, 
they listen to the
chants from the temples; 
therefore,
the poet sits on a corner 
scribbling
on a piece of paper, p
erhaps like Sartre 
writing his diary during his mobilization,
or perhaps like a child composing a
world 
of its own, bringing back all the
fond memories, the determined writer
establishes again the paradise on earth
that is not anymore occupied by intruders, 
but bustling with the long-lost brothers and sisters.

Why is this simple thing a challenge,
the poet ponders, finds it strange!

Thursday, June 11, 2020

One more, once more

O, Baba! Come and 
Take me in your lap, 
I don't know the way
I can't find the gap. 

Please send someone
Who could come and deliver
With those balls of love
That'll flow inside me,
Like you, I'll forgive them, 
Focus on the kneeling knee
Position of genuflection, 
I'll overlook the force
That'll choke the air,
What your messengers do
They wouldn't want to hear, 
So be it Baba! 
I'll become yours forever
I'll rest in power.

Baba! When I was alive
I had to beat the blues
They beat me black and blue, 
Through their thoughts, 
Through actions, and words, 
But now when I die
As a matter of a fateful ploy
I become the blue-eyed boy. 

Once I go unto you
I'd never ever come back, 
An angel in the endless blue
I'll never ever lose track. 
I'll not be ill anymore, 
Beyond my skin, 
Above all sins, above all hues
Unlike the claustrophobic yore. 

They're hurting the sinner, 
Not hating the sin
We're going to lose again
We're never going to win
So there will be one more
Once more, as always.

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

Racism

Justice had only been promised, 
It has not been delivered;
They get killed on the streets
Unarmed, they're shot dead
in the park, blacks for ages
Are kept in the dark. 

It's not one country's problem, 
The whole of the first world
Is but a concentration camp, 
Where leaders make false claims
But blacks are openly murdered, 
They are mercilessly butchered. 

This has to end for good. 
We want to live in a world
Free of racist cannibals
Let those civilisation-mongers 
Know that we aren't extraterrestrials.

We're made to work as slaves
Through the tireless days,
Through the endless nights;
We aren't treated as equals
In their actions, they hate us
To the core, although 
They talk of human rights. 

Flawed laws need to be changed, 
First world needs to be trained
To unburden their false baggage
Of hatred, their shameful image
Needs to be cleaned, erased,
To get rid of their so-called
Whites man's burden 
Is the real challenge. 

Justice has been promised so far, 
Now, it needs to be applied;
To put an end to this mindless war, 
Racism has to be written off
In black and white.
For the sake of humanity, 
Let colours of difference unite. 

Tuesday, June 9, 2020

Let him live, don't grant him leave


Don't demand justice
That'll deplete your soul
Killing a killer
Who's rather a scapegoat
Is not your goal. 

Let him live in the ghettos
For next seventeen years
Let him go and stay
In the third world, 
If you want justice
Ask them to change some laws
That deprive you of your rights, 
That are wrongfully flawed;
For heaven's sake
Justice will be denied
If you let him die. 

You say no justice no peace
Peace is unconditional
If you know what it means. 

The police who killed, 
And his colleagues who didn't 
Prevent
Were all representatives
Of the state
Please have some sense. 
Now looking at the massive protest
The state will disown him
To display plastic justice
Will not let him breathe, 
But if you want justice
Let him serve, let him live
Don't spare him, don't let him leave. 

Dying is an easy exit
Given the chance and choice
Most of us would want 
To leave this troubled world
And heave a sigh of relief, 
Please listen to your inner voice
He deserves to serve in the ghettos
He needs to transform his beliefs. 

Monday, June 8, 2020

Crow

















Crow is a beautiful bird
Most unnoticed, most unsung
A silent worker, it cleans 
The environment in the best 
Possible way, I wish I could 
Make the selfless scavenger
The supreme symbol of
World environment day. 

It also tells me how loving
Parents need to be, 
Genuinely caring and true;
For all humans, it's a lesson, 
It nurtures its own children
It fosters, adopts a cuckoo too. 

If the world would allow me
To chirp in my way,
I would make the crow
A befitting symbol of parent's day. 

The crow is a blackbird, 
Unsung, ignored, unheard.
We never look at it as a healer, 
Seldom as a parent figure, 
Partly because of its work,
Partly because of its color.

My people of the world, 
Black is the color of honesty,
A supreme color of authority, 
It's powerful, it's pure as the dew, 
Black's inclusive, cause it accepts,
And absorbs all other hues, 
It's a color of truth and clarity, 
It's a symbol of human dignity.