womb of love

come, easy
drop all your arms;
words, wealth, weapons.

look, just look at
nature, it is busy
making love with one
another, beyond species,
yes, that's what it knows,
that’s why it exists,
that's what it does
else how'd that little insect
carry the genes of a tree,

nature, an open page,
yet a mystery.

come, easy
stretch your arms,
relax, break free
from the cage of your
knowledge, a memory game;

what would you do knowing
how the earth behaves, its
histories, biology, geographies,
without knowing how the womb
in which we live is engaged
only in making love…
how it is perpetually aroused
to celebrate, accommodate,
nurture, nourish life, no matter
what

without a word, plunging in the
action of love alone can dissolve
a myriad of miseries

the tonsured, injured, wounded
world can only love, it doesn’t
need to speak

dedicated to world health day

Stories

Stories...
garlands of
thorns, flowers,
identities
dear to us;
fresh, old
we can't throw
them away,
they stick to us
as long as we stay.

World health day

...world is in trouble,
the calamities; the virus,
the earthquakes, the floods,
the volcanoes, and deforestation;
the world is falling apart...
let all the
five elements heal first;
the earth, the water, the air,
the fire, and the sky;
on world health day,
I pray for the health of
the world, for then, I know
all my fellow
sentient beings
will heave a sigh of relief...

The elusive

Oftentimes,
I read.
Words woven
as stories, ideas,
beliefs.

Knowledge,
a cage.

My eyes look at the stars,
My feet feel the dewdrop;
with the organs within,
without, I live every
moment of life,
in its highs and lows. 

But I know
the elusive truth,
beyond all bondage
lies beyond books,
nature trails, and tales
of birth and death. 

The distance

 

One world.
Different worlds.
One situation.
Many versions.

Men, women, children,
holding leaves in their
minds through their eyes,
beholding selected words,
fruits, flowers, forming
chosen haven, unable to
distance, so the tree
comes to light.

The lack of vision,
a white elephant. 

Good Friday

Good, bad, ugly

The Friday is here

for good, a reminder 

of his love for the light;

his life, a work of art, 

a supreme sacrifice, 

he rose like a blooming

flower, with bloody scars

to unite with the source;

for us, respectful, irreverent,

after our toiling work, 

successes, failures, thank

God, it's another weekend of 

resurrection. 

ধ্যাত্তেরিকা

ধ্যাত্তেরিকা! 

চলছে শুধু বিশ্ব জুড়ে 

বিষন্নতা, ঝগড়াঝাটি

দেখি শুধু এই বাজারে

মারামারি, কাটাকাটি। 

হাসি খুশির মেজাজটা তাই

দিনে রাতে হচ্ছে মাটি, 

শুকনো হয়ে জীবনটা ভাই

খাচ্ছে কেমন দাঁতকপাটি। 

চিরনিদ্রায় লোপাট গেছে

ভালবাসা আর বিশ্বাস, 

হিংসা, ঘৃণা, মিথ্যাচারে

ওষ্ঠাগত নাভির শ্বাস। 

তাই ত বলি জাগিয়ে তুলে

নিজের সত্য সত্তাটাকে, 

প্রেমের তালে ঠিক করি সব

ভুল গুলিকে ভুলে গিয়ে, 

ধ্বংস করে মিথ্যাগুলি

উঠুক না প্রাণ গুনগুনিয়ে। 

ধ্যাত্তেরিকা এবার বলে

জগত মাতাই আনন্দেতে, 

সকল আঁধার ঘুচিয়ে আসুক 

নতুন সকাল আলোর স্রোতে। 

The rope

We become what we
acquire; wealth, culture,
faiths, appearances,
behaviors rule us in an
automated mode; display of
puppetry of human flesh
and blood, a knotty, invisible
attachment, a habit, a condemned
bondage, chaining like a wire,
beyond all scope;
a tail of an animal, or the
serpentine intoxication
tied around the throat;
all possible hopes of
breaking free from the
non-existent string, to untie
the erotic lace and unite
with the infinite is overruled;
in the guise of a bonding,
the irrelevant lanyard lies
as destiny in our mind as concrete,
visible, real, and strong; we don't
realize how weak and false
it is, even when the enslaved  
life dies, the eyes close,  
the curtain falls.

Hey, dude

Hey, dude just hold my hand,
please don’t leave me behind,
without you, the stage is unkind,
I don’t find a ground to stand;
right under the stars,
hey dude, I feel so blind.

Without you,
I can’t move on, o babe,
tell me, where’d I go so wrong,
help me understand, but please
don’t leave my hand;
without you,
there’s no reason to live,
in the truest things
I fail to believe,
the dawn, the twilight,
the dewdrops, the raindrops,
the rainbow, the horizon,
the sun, and the shadow
playing hide and seek on the
comforting meadow
don’t mean a thing to me,
not anymore, the moonlit night
seems grey, a meaningless hollow
speech, Abba's 'nothing special,
a bit of a bore'.
I can’t walk without you,
might it sound mushy but
that's so true.

There were those warm nights
that stayed with us ever so bright,
in the dark, my eyes could clearly
see you smile, everywhere,
in delightful moans, forever
so agile you were, we listened
to the music and danced
along, we loved Beatles,
the ‘Hey, Jude’ song,
Carpenters, ‘the top of the world’,
we adored the lyrics of Engelbert,
or Lady Gaga’s ‘bad romance’.

My heaven was beating so right,
my garden bloomed in delight;
then all of a sudden you went
away, left a goodbye note in
a half-hearted way, tell me
how’d I lose your precious hand,
help me understand, what should
I do now, hey dude, please
help me understand.

It’s so hard to live alone,
doomed and forlorn, I feel
so heavy, immobile as a stone,
I see the memories living in
my space, staring at me
without grace, I embrace
your soft clothes I’d so
lovingly undress, all your
things tell me a thousand
stories, a myriad dreams of
countless reveries.

Hey, dude, please come back
to me, you are my love, my
destiny, without you, I don't 
want dignity, my useless sanity,
you are my dream, my reality,
you are my freedom, my liberty,
hey, dude, just come back to me.

Hey, dude just hold my hand,
please don’t leave me behind,
without you the stage is unkind,
I don’t find a ground to stand.

হারানো সেই গানগুলি

মনে আছে? ঐ একমুখ 

দাড়ি, মাথায় একরাশ চুল

নিয়ে নন্দনের চারিধারে

পায়চারি করতে করতে

উন্মাদের মত উদাত্ত গলায়

রবীন্দ্রসংগীত গাওয়া লোকটিকে? 

কিম্বা কলকাতা বিশ্ববিদ্যালয়ের

সামনে তাতাপোড়া রোদ্দুরে

'পিও ওয়র জিও, জিও ওয়র পিও'

বলে বিক্রি করা ঐ সহাস্য আর 

বলিষ্ঠ ডাবওয়ালাকে? আরও 

ছোটবেলায় দুপুরে পাড়ায় পাড়ায়

চীৎকার করে 'ঢা কা ই ক্ষীর' 

বলা ঐ ফেরিওয়ালাটিকে? 

গরমের সন্ধ্যায় 'লায়েগা, বোলেগা' 

বলে শ্বেতবসনা ঐ সুস্বাদু

মশলা কচুভাজা ওয়ালাটিকে? 

এঁরা সবাই গায়ক, শহরের শোভা, 

এঁদের সুরেই ঘুমিয়ে আছে এক 

নিশ্চিন্ত কলিকাতা। 

আমার চোখদুটো অমলের মত 

খুঁজে বেড়ায় এঁদের। 

দেখতে পায়, চোখ বুজে, কান 

পেতে শুনলে।