Perspective

 

Life! It takes years to live, 

Captured in few leaves. 

Read in a few hours. 

Tree in miniature, 

A fiction is a bonsai, 

Adorning the living space. 

Utmost priority

Without peace, 

without absolute, 

determined, delivered

'warlessness', 

every inch of growth

and development

is meaningless -

an insipid showpiece

of plastic progress;

it takes us miles away

from what we truly merit, 

equanimity, and happiness. 

Times

My world,
without a clock,
no need to keep pace 
with anything at all, 
I wake up when it’s 
still dark, I walk on 
the grass, flower my 
plants, wait for the dew
drops to soften my feet,
my face; oftentimes
I pray, play with my 
breaths; it’s a new life
new lines, full of space.

I love calling-bells
that ring only once,
when the maid comes
to cook;

My evenings start early
with lazy, unhurried,
long promenades by
the beach, I sit with my
tired legs for a brewing
coffee, sometimes with
some smiling faces,
I observe every bit of life
that surrounds me with
love, warmth, and affection;

All the stars in the sky,
flowers, fruits, birds in the
garden, they're ready
and available, like a
comforting tick-tock,
I look upon them as my
companions, soak in their
goings-on;

I think and laugh at all
my ignorance, my mistakes,
my rights and wrongs,
gone with the waves;

I thought my world ran
without any reminder
of time, until I touched
my heart, felt the
faithful beat.

The colour of unity

The colour gray

gets under the skin, 

sits in our minds

as a poor cousin, 

dull and dead;

but its fruition

unites the world

full of life

in black and white.

In-between

Being in the process
is my fallout,
being in the journey
is my purpose.

I see myself in between
the visible and the invisible
I hear myself inside
silence and speech.

I know I am blessed.

Little by little, outcast,
distanced from the flow
of life, I came upon you,
like the shepherd,
I see hurts and holes
in my system, I know I
inflicted all of them with
ignorant concern; I have
to take charge, heal them,
one by one; I cannot judge
anyone, anymore, those
scabs and scars had formed
me, they belong to me, to
them I’d say so long,
and set me rolling free
in a joyful journey.

Maradonah!

 

O, golden kid!
The ball is weeping
on the ground, it will
refuse to glide around; the one
that once danced on the field
with the kisses from your feet.

Where did you go
O, El pibe de Oro,
Countless lovers of foot
fell in love with the game
because you brought
name and fame for the
glorious sport and your country,
but the magician that you were
your spells set the crazy game
beyond all known boundaries.

Every time you played,
time stopped for those
ninety minutes, we will never
forget the splendid 1986.
You won the Golden Ball
by defeating Germany,
but the two goals in the quarter
finals had made history, one
the hand of God and the other
the goal of the century!

For as long as the ball
bounces on the field,
as long as the whistles blow
your spirit will kick start 
to energize us, your name
will continue to shine and glow!

Maradona! You will forever
be engraved in our hearts,
for the limitless fun and pleasure
you brought in the sport as art.

The indescribable

If you could define love
you could also define god,
if they were mere words
they'd be easily conquered.

Within and beyond the senses,
they're both indescribable
in essence;
since the naive intellect
wants to contain them
in words, the mind is
bewildered, misdirected;

To hold them in any
boundaries, in time and space,
is to belittle their beauties,
deny to behold them
by feeling their grace.

Like the air we breathe,
neither see nor read,
to experience their lightness
one has to volunteer to wander
in the wonderment
of light and darkness. 

গোপন কথা

কত কথা কতকাল ধরে,
গোপনে লুকনো আছে
রাতের আঁধারে,
তারাগুলো নেমে এসে
জোনাকির বেশে, লুকলো
নিশার ফাঁকে এধারে ওধারে,
কি কথা আছে যে ঢাকা
জানে না কিছুই তারা
নাজেহাল হল সবে
কালোর গভীরে। 

টিপ টিপ করে ওরা
খুঁজে খুঁজে হলো সারা
ঘন রাত ধীরে ধীরে
ভোর হয়ে আসে,
হঠাৎ দেখিতে পেলো
কথাগুলি ডালে ডালে
দুলে দুলে থোকা থোকা
ফুল হয়ে ফুটে আছে
চারিদিক ভ'রে।  

তারাগুলি হাসিমুখে দিল
পাড়ি আকাশেতে
কথাগুলি চুপিসারে
চাঁপা, জবা হয়ে ফুটে
রইলো বাগানে। 

মৌমাছি গুলি সব
গুনগুন করে এসে
অজানা কথায় সুর
ঢেলে দিল ভালোবেসে
কথাগুলি ব্যথা ভুলে
সুরে তালে মিলে মিশে
নতুন জীবন পেলো
সুমধুর গানে। 

La fleur-fusil

Je viens d'avoir un fusil

Par hasard, 

Mais c'était inutile

Pour la guerre, 

C'était fait des fleurs. 

À la fois dommage et dérisoire

Car le produit et le matériel

Sont tout-à-fait contradictoires. 

Un peu comme la terre et le ciel

Avec la tendresse de leurs mains

font naître la génie des êtres humains. 

The journey

From all the avalanche
of failures of your 
performance, haven’t you 
still taken the cue 
that it’s time to begin
to chat with yourself
in your green room.

Failings have come unto
you as a guiding clue,
to take that long-awaited
journey, liberate you from
the several selves that 
needed to be shelved long
ago; say times for now,
when you’d recognize
masks as your disguise,
re-enter the stage.