Consciousness

If we wouldn’t kibitz
with consciousness
I would have liked to be
reborn as a human being

religion, science, culture,
business, education are
whizzing at the entire race
with divisions, decay, and
off-colour differences

people fighting in families,
communities, and countries

I’m not as lucky as those
bards who’d sing of praise
with words of accolades

no, I wouldn’t like to be
reborn with the weight
of depraved awareness

ওগো উচ্ছে

 

ওগো উচ্ছে! তোমায় খেতে

মোটেও করে না ইচ্ছে, 

কিন্তু শরীর যে চায়, 

তাই হয়ে নিরুপায়

মুখে তুলতে হচ্ছে। 

প্রার্থনা

ওম শুচি, শুচি, শুচি

সর্ববায়ুমন্ডলম্ শুচি
দেহম্ শুচি, মনম্ শুচি
বাক্যম্, চিন্তম্ শুচি, 
আহারম্ তথা কর্মম্ শুচি,  
শুচি, শুচি, শুচি
সর্বশরীরম্ শুচি
শুচি, শুচি, শুচি

সর্বত্রম্ শুচি
ক্ষিতিম্ শুচি, অপম্ শুচি, 
ত্যেজম্, মরুদম্ তথা 
ব্যোমম্ শুচি
শুচি, শুচি, শুচি

ওম শুচি, শুচি, শুচি

সম্পাদিত

সুভাষ মন্ডল
অধ্যাপক, মেটিয়াব্রুজ কলেজ 
বাংলা সাহিত্য বিভাগ 

Hindi/Sanskrit version

ॐ सूचि सूचि सूचि 

सर्ववायुमण्डलम सूचि 
देहम सूचि, मनम सूचि, 
वाक्यं सूचि, चिन्ताम सूचि, 
अहराम तथा कर्मं सूचि,
सूचि सूचि सूचि
सर्वशरीराम सूचि 
सूचि सूचि सूचि

सर्वत्रं सूचि 
क्षितिम सूचि, अपम सूचि,
त्येजाम, मरुदाम तथा 
ब्योमम सूचि 
सूचि सूचि सूचि

ॐ सूचि सूचि सूचि

some small poems

alone, I see the
world on its own

... 

silence consumes
all the words,
the world, a sound
expression

... 

one means
there's a two,
one world,
untrue

... 

I severe all the links
I had with nature,
I'm established
in the knowledge
I sought for years
I become free

... 

weapons are
intruders here
for good,
for no good

... 

advertisements
know they trespass,
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the miracle

when the dormant
self awakens,
the world wakes up
with a magic wand,
the miracle
happens

getting back

in darkness,
I was dreaming...
my hands flew
away, as birds,
my head,
a cage broke
in an instant
into pieces,
I heard a cracking
sound,
my feet melted,
chains transformed
as a garland that
freed as flowers, 

slowly, I gave away
everything I had
with grace,
my body, 

its parts adorned
the garden, the sky,
the ground,
yet, I was complete,
until I woke up, 

in a second, I got
back everything I lost, 

broken,
with thoughts,
words, 

imperceptible virus,
black fungus,
white lies,
cold wars,
global warming, 

I know I will get back
when the day breaks
into silence,
being in the dark, is it
ever so disorienting,
I wondered
wide awake

No one knows

Death is on the rise,
the world, a cemetery.

Countless lives succumb
to the terror, unable to breathe,
without any hearse,
bodies burnt, buried. 

The outfit has suddenly
become white, for the
dead and the alive. 

Leaders cheering the
helpless healthcare workers. 

Little hope to efface the virus
from the face of the earth,
the black fungus adding to
the loss of life, vaccines
generating revenue from
the locker of the hearth. 

TV channels earning their TRPs,
eyeballs glued to the blue horror,
addicted to the scores of the
game, to the useless conspiracy
theories, and to many other
stories; the naysayers, writing
their lines in the debris
of hopelessness. 

The imperceptible Tsunami
is on, the nature is intact,
it had taken the village
by the storm. 

The new normal is
that the world is on fire,
forests are not burning.

Caregivers, nurses, doctors,
the only harbingers of hope,
the silent workers. 

Innocents dying, while
disparate parts of the globe,
thinking in their boxes,
unable to counter the challenge,
they're counting the footfalls,
blaming, and counting. 

Families breaking into tears,
the crematorium grounds
lost in the pyre. 

How did it originate,
what is the remedy,
whose wars are we
fighting, which act of
the play's going on, no
one knows, neither the
martyrs, nor the players,
nor those selfless
heroines and heroes. 

mind

mind
a broken mirror
piercing painfully
into the mundane, 
with a glue of belief
it becomes spotless,
scratchless where, who
I am reflects

...

with practice of
yoga kriya,
like a sculptor,
a chisel and a hammer,
I create an idol from
a stone, when it is done
I become free to worship
myself as a devotee

...

in bhakti the rituals
are tools to experience
bliss, to found the father;
but those ingredients
are not with the intent
of getting his company, those
rites are for discarding
the habits that had
separated me from me

...

mind is the prison,
a poison of treason;
it is also a prism that
helps to show and see
the light beyond reason

It's not a prayer

I am Atman.
I don't have love
In me, I am love.
I don't have happiness
In me, I am happiness. 

I am established in wisdom.
My mistake was to
Come in contact with Prakriti.

My goal is to severe
The last link with nature.
Nature, that derived all the strength
From me, and is now making me
Subservient, what a pity. 

Eternal peace, freedom
From all false identities
Is the sole reason for my
Existence. 

Made for each other

The sky is freely
tied with the earth,
a bondage, or a
bonding;

wherever they are,
they're seen
as a whole,
forever together. 

Throughout their
journey,
they have a sense
inter-dependence,
and their own identity.