Natural shift

I realized I had to get 

Off my chair;
Else re-positioning it,
Became an impossible affair;

All this while I was one
With the wooden seat
Agility lost, I succumbed
To a rigid defeat.

Likewise, when I recognized
I was neither my thoughts,
Nor my feelings
I could detach myself from them
I was able to behold them from a distance,
I could hold them at once;
Like I held my framed identity,
My unnatural self, as the sole entity.

The obnoxious ones left my system;
End of the vicious game!
I emerged. Gave myself a priceless gift,
My paradigm made a natural shift.

Real power

Real power

I have the power to bless everyone,
Those who are nice to me
And those who are not;
From my royal position
I will not fall,

I will only use my power to love

Above everything, above all.

Vrai pouvoir

J'ai le pouvoir de bénir tout le monde,

Ceux qui sont gentils avec moi

Et ceux qui ne le sont pas;

De ma position royale

Je ne tomberai point du tout,

Je n'utiliserai mon pouvoir que pour aimer

Avant tout, et surtout.

সত্য শক্তি

প্রত্যেককে শুভেচ্ছা দেবার ক্ষমতা আমার আছে যারা আমার সাথে ভালো বা মন্দ ব্যবহার করেছে; আমি আমার এই রাজকীয় আসন থেকে থাকব অনড়, অটল এখান থেকে এখন, শুধুই ঝরবে প্রেমশক্তি অবিরল, অনর্গল।

খামখেয়ালি

আমি খুবিই খামখেয়ালি
ইচ্ছে মতন ঘুরিফিরি
চেনা অচেনা গলি,
নিজের সাথে কথা বলি
বেসুরে গান গেয়েও ফেলি,
বাগানে সবুজ পাতা গুলি,
দেখেই যে দিই হাততালি।

খিদে পেলেই খাই আমি
সময় ধরে নয়,
আমার কাছে দামি নিজের
খেয়াল, খুশি, নিশ্চয় ।

গাড়িবাড়ি, গয়নাগাটি
ডিগ্রী ঢাকা নোটে,
ভেবাচেকা খাইনা আমি,
ধারধারিনা মোটে। 

যে জন কারুর চোখেরই জল
মুছিয়ে দেয় আশ্বাসে
কিংবা কারুর দুঃখের সময়
থাকতে পারে পাশে,
শুধুই যারা ভালবাসে
না করে সংশয়
বিচারের হুঙ্কারে
নেই বিন্দুমাত্র ভয়,
আছে যাদের সূর্য সমান
জ্বলজ্বলে হৃদয়
আমার কাছে তারাই যে দেয়
অমূল্য মনের পরিচয়।

খামখেয়ালি হয়েই আছি
মহা আনন্দে,
কান্না হাঁসির মাঝেই বাঁচি
নিজেরই ছন্দে। 

Possibility, a thought away

I don't want to rise so high That I get lost in the sky; Everything, everyone I look down upon, Write their future On a polarized piece of paper And say, hey there See here, you've all lost, I have won. I don't want to lie so low and buried That I get trampled, stampede; Everything, everyone Walks over me, Writes my designed destiny And say, hey there See here, we have all won You are just another loser. I want to walk and fly steady in the middle Involve all in the most engaging huddle; Encourage naysayers, failures So they fight and taste success, Motivate high flyers, achievers So they humbly help others in the race Everyone wins, no one loses We grow hand in hand, in medias res.

Glasshouse

I look at you I know you don't lie,  But what you show's untrue.  Captured in the classy frame Shades of faces begging for fame,  Masks unmasked, in a win-lose game.  To be the fairest of them all My zeal to kill with skill,  Let them go to hell,  Let them fall, ruined And crushed in the glasshouse, Forever forgotten, perpetually small.  Who's the wisest of them All? All of a sudden If I'd change my question,  The jobless glass will screech in shame For it's not designed To peek within at all The glasshouse will stand Like a useless wall.

Hide, and seek

Hide yourself
In one little corner, 
For a moment, shelf
Your worries of pelf,
Position, power;
Seek your inner tutor.

What does the guide
Tell you? Listen to the voice,
Get rid of your ego and pride
In silence, try to sacrifice your noise.

We may be anybody on earth,
A loser, or someone famous
The in-tuition will reveal the worth
And show that we all have Mohammed,
Krishna, Buddha, Jesus in us.

space

A frog in a well
couldn’t bond with
its mate it met
in a pond, by accident;
it’s not the water
nor the swim
nor the tongues
that croaked,
caught insects;
it’s the vision
that made their
space different.

Song by Rajanikanta Sen, translated

This is a very modest attempt in translating a devotional song written by Rajanikanta Sen. If interested, you may listen to the song sung by Krishna Chatterjee by clicking here

Bengali

কবে তৃষিত এ মরু ছাড়িয়া যাইব
তোমারি রসালো নন্দনে
কবে তাপীত এ চিত করিব শীতল
তোমারি করুনা চন্দনে।
কবে তোমাতে হয়ে যাব
আমার আমি হারা
তোমারি নাম নিতে
নয়নে ববে ধারা
ভেবে ও শিহরিবে, ব্যাকুল হবে প্রাণ
বিপুল পুলক স্পন্দনে।
কবে ভবের সুখদুঃখ চরণে দলিয়া
যাত্রা করিব গো শ্রী হরি বলিয়া,
চরণ টলিবে না, হৃদয় গলিবে না
কাহার আকুল ক্রন্দনে।

Translated into English

When will I traverse
This thirsty desert
To reach your luscious abode,
When will this frenzied heart
Heal in your magical ode
That soothes like a chandan* balm.
When will my pride immerse,
When will I lose myself in you,
When will tears stream from my eyes
As soon as I take your name?
I will shiver in my thoughts
My soul will yearn
My heart will beat
Without guilt or shame!
When will I trample
All earthly joy and woes
When will I embark
By calling out Srihari*
When will my
Feet not tremble,
Heart not melt
Despite anyone’s
Wailing, lament.

chandan* - it is a paste made out of sandalwood; traditionally it is applied on deities and also on the face of disciples, gurus, sadhus to physically cleanse one’s face from sins.

Srihari* - Srihari is the name of a Hindu God Vishnu, also known as the Supreme friend

Translated into French

C'est un essai très modeste de traduire une chanson spirituelle écrite par Rajanikanta Sen. Si vous voulez, vous pouvez écouter la chanson chantée par la chanteuse Krishna Chatterjee en cliquant ici

Quand vais-je traverser ce désert assoiffé
Pour atteindre votre somptueuse demeure,
Quand est-ce que ce cœur frénétique
Va guérir à l’aide de votre ode magique
Tout comme un baume chandan*.
Quand ma fierté plongera-t-elle,
Quand vais-je me perdre en vous,
Quand couleront-elles les larmes de mes yeux
Dès que je prends votre nom?
Je vais trembler dans mes pensées
Mon âme aspirera, mon cœur battra
Sans culpabilité ni honte!
Quand vais-je piétiner
Toute joie et tous les malheurs terrestres,
Quand vais-je embarquer
En criant votre nom de Srihari*
Quand les pieds ne tremblent plus,
Le cœur ne fond plus
Malgré le gémissement
De n’importe qui, de n’importe où.

chandan* - c'est une pâte faite de bois de santal; il est traditionnellement appliqué sur les divinités et également sur le visage des disciples, des gourous, ou des sadhus pour nettoyer physiquement son visage des péchés.

Srihari* - Srihari est le nom d'un dieu hindou Vishnu, également connu comme l'ami suprème.

Boss

I have no boss, I am no one's boss
No, I am not even my own boss. 
Big burdens buried, binned
Baggage alighted in the wind, 
A barrier I had to so desperately cross.

Business has messed with 'boss'
Cruelty, punishment, penalty
Germs that devoured liberty
The ethos that spread chaos
All around the globe, without slightest dignity. 

In a boss-free zone if the world would ever be
Wars, woes, worries, would wither
Work would be done comfortably, 
Wealth would wonderfully wander 
Without the boohoo of a boss buzzing anywhere.

What a bliss! The bad and the sad word,
Has gone for good from my world;
I see friends all around, I can work
In peace with my profit and loss
Beyond the mess and the curse of a boss.

Ice-breaker

The color of the skin
was a household discourse
a cause of concern
that spread its agonies
beyond the domestic front.

Eyes would shy away
from darkness,
paint a beautiful face
with foreign fairness
so it merged in the blinded way.

Tearful years have passed,
bloody roads buried
by design, under the red carpet,
until freshness bloomed bright
and held aloft the ignored right.

Dewdrops brightened the colors
when dawns broke, certain and sudden
smiling meadow, dancing brooks
heralded overlooked beauty; ice-breaking silence
on the same stage, under the same sun.

Megalomania

Of course I have
The right to write and speak
But with it I also exercise
My limits;
When I fulfill my responsibility
I look at myself, with dignity.

I understand why Tom was shown the door
When he wrote an angry mail to his CEO,
Why Tonmoy was hurt
When he was 'bullied' in the mart.

I found a place where I thought
By exchanging opposite points of view
Scholars bloom and bond,
But maybe I was wrong;
For it polishes the pebbles, dims the diamonds.

Sadly, like any other place
It is diseased with megalomania, beyond grace.
Maybe it's far too unfair
To judge a site for a handful few
But I don't look at every rice
To see if it's cooked; I count on one or two.

My juvenile reaction to some even more kiddish responses! :) 

The most unconscious crime

If I do not forgive
The outcome is simple,
The inability won’t let me live, 
As one little drop of poison
Spoils the drink
One such little lack will prick,
I will remain in the prison
For good, fall in the abyss
Where, life would be bound
To drown and sink. 

If I'm able to forgive someone, 
Regardless of the magnitude
Of the harm done, 
I become my best friend forever;
As it is to me, I offer
The most charming gift
I do not anyone else a favour.

But how do I do that
It's so easy to say!
No, when you're working at
It, you'll find a way. 

Close your eyes, sit alone;
Whether you believe in
God, or you don’t,
It doesn’t matter
As long as you're determined
To get rid of the sin forever. 

Say to yourself, 'I have the power
To forgive and so I do', 
Imagine the person in front of you,
Keep repeating it from time to time
The words will do the trick
Like a miracle, or like magic
Your body will slowly liberate you
From the most unconscious crime.

Words are energies

No, I will not lie
I am here to lay bare
On what I can never rely.

You're most enthusiastic
In your reluctance,
For highlighting errors
You write pages,
You're most reluctant
With your compliments
You finish them off, as it were
In one sentence.

It's not your fault
It's your horrible upbringing, 
Your terrible education
That has taught you this
You are happy with your Ps and Qs
Yet you're restless in your abyss.

It is not anybody's fault;
Unconscious, we all fall
Prey to this monster
That hides behind
That handsome,
Innocuous word
To have our curious
Conscience murdered.

This breeds poison in the air
Makes the atmosphere
Vicious, we lose faith
In people with plastic facts,
Whose words only harm;
For words are energies
That in truth, infuse and charm.

In unison

'The most beautiful spot in your heart'
Is when you find oneness
In everything, everyone
It’s not free, it needs practice
It's an exercise, a rewarding art.

When you truly get there
There's lightness in the air
You overlook divisions, dissensions;
Lessons you learn
Is that everything's a game,
Everything's fun
Everyone's effortlessly won.

The interviewer, Soumik Datta, a disciple of late Pt Budhhadeb Dasgupta, is a Bengali-born British Indian musician and composer, who specialises in the sarod.

Credit

The world.
Begging for credit.
Stealing, robbing
Snatching it from others;
Friends, relatives, competitors.
Everyone is doomed
In the lose-lose gloom
Unable to choose.

Step back.
Giving becomes a given.
The world changes,
Flourishes, washes all sins,
Takes off the imprisoned page
With its win-win wings.

Credit is for giving.
It is not for getting.
Simple, no bombastic,
Antiquated words
Like those ignorant herds.

O workers, managers
Wise men, politicians
Scientists, artists, industrialists;
It just needs a shift to give credit.
Not expecting it in return
The world will be a marvellous place
For doing anything, for everyone.

Game is on

Every moment
An image surfaces,
Without a page,
A scratch, a paint;
It stays,
Gets destroyed, or recreated;
Game with Trinity
Is on, liberty
Is captured in the
Blue infinity.

Evergreen legacy

When you're happy
Plant a seed,
If you're down with sorrow
Water a weed,
Times when you’re green
With jealousy, or blue with worries
Indulge in composting
It’s an instant remedy.

When you're enjoying with family
Sit and sing under a tree,
When you're relaxing with friends
Nurse your garden
However small it might be,
A shrub, a herb
A creeper, a bush
Nourish them, nurture them
Wherever they shoot.

You don't have to do
Anything else for humanity,
Your children will benefit
From the flourishing garden;
Tonsured earth will heal,
Turn into heaven.

Share prices will be fine and fair
Inflation will cease, poverty will disappear
World will overcome all debacle
Simple, pure effort will plant the miracle.

With countless fruits and flowers 
Bounty will bloom and shower,
Such is the magical power
Of a wee little sprout,
Without an iota of doubt
For a prosperous posterity,
You'll leave behind
An evergreen legacy.

Crisis

Whenever there's crisis
There's Christ

...

Krishna, in any form
In any norm
With or without a name
Responds to distress

...

Allah is light
Waiting to alight
Unto anyone in need
At the drop of a hat