Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Sisters and brothers

Such a small handful of people
are they more powerful than us
sisters and brothers
of the world?

We are millions and trillions of us
who wouldn't want wrathful wry wars
we want the dry weapons
removed from the hands immediately
don’t we?

Then how is it that such a handful few
do not lend their ears to us anew
are we blaming them all the time
pushing them more towards the crime
those confused leaders
aren’t they also one of us
sisters and brothers
of the world?

No more peace organization can do the magic
no more lines of poems can perhaps undo the tragic
unless we placed truth over logic;
of all the sentient beings
only humans invented wars
others kill only to eat,
for them, there is no winning nor defeat
all this while we thought of war as natural
it’s untrue, it’s false, it’s plastic, it’s artificial
from our minds we need to kill wars for good
in the name of an inclusive humanhood
for peace and prosperity
for growth, for our birth-right liberty
can’t we organize ourselves to rid of this fuss
ye sisters and brothers
of the world?

Weapons to rest in peace in museums
wars that troubled the floors for years
to be scrapped as bad debts of our universe
o sisters and brothers can’t we win with love a handful few
for they are our sisters and brothers  too!

We need to wash the frozen hatred clean
gift the world, charming countries within
its warm nature serene
the leaders, they are so few in numbers
by us they need to be influenced
if we convinced them on things that made sense
we take the responsibility on our shoulders
of restoring peace in our winsome campus
going forward, an emphatic ‘no’ to weapons and wars
the tortured earth will profusely thank us
let us convince the leaders
we need no more of wars and weapons
we can make it happen, as sisters and brothers
of the world.

I become my stories

The page is my dais
the infinite stage,
my universe;
retelling in words
in prose or in verse
I come back to the leaf
for the compulsive relief.
In ecstasies, agonies
I become my stories.

I walk without steps
jump over the fence
fly without wings
with sky in my head
stars all around
clouds on the ground
I whisper without breath
I dance in a trance
I speak without letters
with minutest details
that form into words.
In hopes and in despair
the loving lines appear.

The wrongs and the rights
of the borders and the fence
with its numerous tales
I sing without notes
its tender cadence
life's moving moments
in abundance, decadence
through days and through nights
I come and I leave
willing in delight
the forever lying leaf
I touch every sense
through the gaps of silence.
With its worries and glories
I become my stories.

অমূল্য রতন

টাকাকড়ি সোনাদানা জিনিস রাশিরাশি
মানসম্মান, প্রতিপত্তি থাকুক ঠাসাঠাসি
সবই বেকার মনের মাঝে না যদি রয় খুসি
আর সোবার
আগে সবার মুখের সহজ সরল হাসি

মিথ্যে
হাসির মেকাপ রে ক্লান্ত হয় যে মন
সত্যি হাসি ভিতর থেকে কাঁদে সারাক্ষণ

এই দুনায়ায় সবকিছুই কিনতে পাওয়া যায়
রকমারি বাইরের সুখ সবাই পেতে চায়
এত পেয়েও কেন তবু মনের হাহাকার
ফুটে ওঠে মুখের ওপর নিয়ে অনেক ভার

আমরা যে তাই খুঁজছি দেখ তাদের দিনেরাতে
জিতে নিতে পারছি কোথায় দুঃখী ভূবনেতে

বল দেখি কোন পথেতে আসবে গো সেই হাসি
কেমন রে মনের মধ্যে উঠবে ভ’রে খুসি
ভিতর যদি নির্মল হয় সুচিন্তার বলে
সে থেতেই ফুটবে তারা সকালে বিকালে

মনটা
খুলে রাখো সদাই চিন্তিত ভাই বোন
ভিতর থেকে পাবে সবাই অমূল্য রতন

Saturday, January 27, 2018

Relationship

My child
related to me through blood

not my spouse

but both, equally important!

What a loving lesson

on relationship I learn
in the very home I house!

Keep it up

Keep trying
in autumn or in spring
in times smooth and rough
the terrain might be tough
write your lines
and keep writing
in the open page of life
keep doing

keep failing, falling

in every season
in the leaves that unfold
in the obstacles
of 
stories unheard, untold
that appear as lessons
read them through and through
whether they’re false or true
keep reading

keep listening

the guide is sure to find
nesting in the mind
singing the tender tone
the bell so sound, so own
keep loving, keep looking, keep moving
keep going, keep growing, keep glowing


keep travelling

being in the journey
is the key
winning, losing we equally brave
we emerge not as a slave
but as a queen or a king
keep your chin up, your faith high
to reach the touching sky
keep smiling

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

seven stories in three lines

my ears
heard enough tales
return to the mountains

the ash has fire
a gray-haired man sees
on heaps of burning leaves

useless promises
on barren fields
winds buzzing shame

blank page
looks at the monsoon sky
stories rain

an old pond
a child plops a stone
frog leaps in time

flowers blooming
cajoling the wired borders
spreading friendship out of control

my eyes
seen enough stories
return to the seas

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

In the company

It was at a party – at night
I watched the stars
drink, dance, dream
their eyes awake
blinking, twinkling, winking
soft music played the wind.

Friends, they could be guests
I must have held some hands
stars hung beside the moon
the sky became the room
I was a little high.

Woke up late drowsy
still in trance on the floor
remembered how I danced
I stole myself out
with shoes in my hand
stories in my mind.

Thinking of birds asleep in their nests
I yearned for life!
Drove back home with the moonlight.

Monday, January 22, 2018

some small poems

trees
from the desktop
witness deforestation
***
sunshine
on the canvas
in the child’s smiles
***
waves crying on the beach
rain
in the child’s eyes
***
dust-bath of sparrows
bird-bath
waits for monsoon
***
food-wastes
drain the tongue
of a weeping urchin
***

Friday, January 19, 2018

Gears

Eyes and ears are drivers of a kind
hands that compose through light and sound
as organs they nest inside the mind
to chirp the tale of what is around.

Dead-and-alive

Verses on pages fall beyond rehearse
as reserves in thoughts progress, reverse
lines lie dead like writers’ hearse,
revealed and alive by healing readers.

Retelling

Lines do not come from me
they do, through me, says Rumi*.

Yes I know we steal the tune
in every day and night to prune
with or without the witness of the stars
rises and falls, lies in our hearts
comes out as words, humming breeze
in seconds, as thousand memories
touch the leaves or the flute
as fruits flowing deep, from the roots.

Verses that give us a hand
mimicking the message of the Band.


Rumi* - A famous poet who needs little introduction

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Pen to paper

Floating in the mind are stories to pen
emotions of unnoticed ladies and gentlemen
meandering, looking out for leaves
embrace them all, without motives, malice.

Their skin, kith and kin, to matter least
patient pages like earth, to drink the ink at ease
no questions asked, no judgements passed
fables of colorful days, simply present from the past.

Once written off, where will the yarns lead
in the lifeless shelves or in the lively read
whatever be their fate, wherever they are to reign
papers will devour tales, of ladies and gentlemen.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Take an apple break

My cell has become my cell
but worse is desktop, I can tell
I have ceased to breathe free
to be under a winsome tree
in garden of flowers and fruits
to retrieve my fading roots.

Nature I see on screen
but the one that’s out serene
I ignore to see and smell
this weakens every cell
I run tad out of breath
waste my time at length.

The techs are not so bad
they often make us glad
they were bought to ease our life
but we’re seized and trapped in file
they came to us for sure
so we’d work a little less
but we slog now even more
and find us all in stress.

O my loving mind
be a little kind
drive us from this mess
tell us how to find
a balance and be friends
with all these helpful techs.

Saturday, January 13, 2018

In your garden

Wherever you go
in the darkest or brightest
of places you may not even know
you are with me, under my behest

when you cease to escape and submit
in your space, miracle becomes a habit

whatever you do
in the absence or presence
of others around you
with you I bond in every sense

when you cease to escape and submit
in your space, miracle becomes a habit

whatever you think or speak
with you or with others anywhere
I build the words pronounced or bleak
with you, I’m always there

when you cease to escape and submit
in your space, miracle becomes a habit

from your birth to your death
I’m with you in every single breath
once you know this for certain
bliss will reside in your garden.

Take care

Accept the child
born from marriage
of two hearts
it needs your love and concern
take care, be it a daughter or a son
it comes to unite two families
through its relation, into one
into your new roles
you are reborn with its birth
it is the child of this earth.

Accept the child
born from rape or other human disgrace
of two unfortunate hearts
it needs your love and concern
take care, be it a daughter or a son
it comes to write its own story
feel blessed if it chooses you as parents
into your gifted new roles
you are reborn with its birth
it is the child of this earth.

Friday, January 12, 2018

ডুবুরি সভ্যতা

বিদ্যার জাহাজ তুমি
বিদ্যার সাগরে ভাসছ
ডুবে ডুবে জল খাচ্ছ
ভাবছ তুমি অমর?
ঐ দেখ! তোমার ইষ্টদেবের
বাহনেরা তোমাকে পরিত্যাগ
করছে, তুমি তোমার বিপদ
ডেকে এনেছ, তাই ওরা নিরাপদ
স্থান খুঁজছে, হায় উন্নাসিক
তোমার জ্ঞানের ভারের আঘাত
মূঢ় কালিদাসের মত, কেটেছে
নিজের ডাল, তোমার সে
ডানা-কাটা পরির রূপ
ধূসর হ’য়ে আছড়ে পড়ছে
একটু একটু ক’রে পালক খসছে
গর্তের ভিতর দিয়ে জল ঢুকছে
তোমার গগনচুম্বি গর্বের জন্য
আকাশের ডাকে আর তুমি উড়তে
পারবে না, সমুদ্রের গর্ভেই পাবে
তুমি তোমার স্থান, এক ডুবুরি
সভ্যতার মত

Monday, January 8, 2018

Lines

They looked at me. Pleaded me
to never write about them
until they read the lines.

I am still waiting
since many years
like a word
formed with letters
of a strange language;
it battled
shied away like a bird
its feathers carried traces of blood.

I have ceased to become the word
but I sense it wanders quietly
in the woods
longing to write the lines
about them.

Friday, January 5, 2018

Holocaust

Nothing much has changed
as far as views, eyes exchange
ears review and hear.

Stars still fall and rise
time apparels in disguise
horizon seldom comes near.

Greed breeds chastening grief
overcast mind doesn’t know of relief
until for a split, clouds clear.

The overweight bird falls on the ground
wings clipped, its tender chirps screech around
the flyer crawls in agony and fear.

Civilization with poisoned holocaust
earlier it attacked from the back, at any cost
now it appears from the rear.

Lust violates love in broad daylight trysts
words defeat words, actions freeze at ease
intent remains the same, content and form differ.

Feathers are falling, failing to fly
truths in their spaces, unable to lie
yet nothing has changed in thousands of years.

If it's time to change, all birds in nesting trees
drop those silly thoughts, from the minds to the seas
killers resting in us will surely disappear.

Now

Now there’s no escape
the mind has opened
like the door
for long it was used
excused as closed, unfriendly.

It is pounding
like my heart
overwhelmed with
warmth of companionship
clouded so long, now free.

It has spread
like the sky, a blue saree
I gifted to my beloved
I am now one with her
separated for years.

The tension on the stage
softened, as far as I can see
borrowed faith and fear
then, reborn in chain, had to change
there is no escape now.

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

love

Love evolves in lives
lives, loves, leaves
its trails on leaves
loving tales unveil.

Lovers laugh lament
living truths and lies
letters lightly write
in volumes reveal delight.

Love falls in deeds and words
love lies in lucid breaths
love alone lights the world
love launders darkness.

Love-some hearts witness
love defeating deaths.

Love fills the ground
its hues hum above
chanting all around
long live love.

Endless game

I have found you at last
if not anywhere else
at least
in my endless search.

When I eat something
from the roadside shop
meet someone on the street
or when I write to you, about you
lifting from the past leaves anew
in some obscure page
that I gathered being on the stage
within my visible time and space,
you touch me with your smiles
a push, a warm hug
from a whispering wind
touches my nerves,
a mongrel can smell you
sense you on my knees
it climbs
doesn’t find, strangely looks
I see you in the eyes of an urchin
the most divine face
to face nothings now and again
I see you in the fanning ears of a silly cow
for a split
you are open out there
you disappear I don’t know how
in your favorite game
you play with me
like a child who doesn’t know its name
can hardly speak
laughs aloud playing hide and seek
yet the game is only to seek and find
for I know you're here for good, you never hide.

You hide behind the moon
covered under my sleeping pillow
behind the morning sun
that touches my coffee cup
we so tenderly share
or you may be lying below
veiling in the newly arrived newspaper.

The day begins to sing
again, you play the tune I start to sense
the quest restarts
either in my meaningless work

or in my indolence.

Monday, January 1, 2018

Fair weather

I see April in the trees
right here in winter
my eyes do not leave her
smell, her sweetness
doesn’t give over
from my green ears;
whether it is freshness or heartburn
I wonder
she is adorning a strange garden
I am immured
with helpless whiteness
freezing, shivering
colors its proclivity
love allures
is she my age that's left from all the parts
years ago
trembling feet, diffident palate
crackling chest
April flows, hallucinates
gives a hand
to my melting eyes and ears
I see her inside,
with memories built in the mind
trees with white barks, tireless withering time
so stark is the whiteness, this lady’s prime.

Downpour of plough

I try to take out the words
hidden in my pages
hollow bubbles
addled, unable to fly
volumes of lifeless letters
crowded, clouded
onerously play in my organs
I know you wouldn’t overwrite your love
on written leaves
but they refuse to leave
I lie like a useless instrument
my garden, overburdened
with stillborn thoughts.

With effort, one by one,
I clear them all
so your saplings could fall
reign upon my open field
your search for emptiness
reaches my space
my senses
feel the yield
not anymore on the run
in the same soil I fly
experience fulfillment.