Written While Sitting on the Border

Written While Sitting on the Border between Bangladesh and India

The growling green of the sprawling fields
The sparkling silver of the boisterous water
And even the bourgeois blue of the rainwashed sky
Did not know
That a border had been drawn across them
That trifles as such filled man’s mind
That for this they could even kill
Entering India were bovine cows and birds liberated
Without any visa
Flowing into Bangladesh were the moisture-laden air and honey-hunting bees
Without any passport
They did not know –
That a border existed
That an illusion had bifurcated the sky above and the land below
That this illusion was food for rivalries, jealousies, hopes and dreams
Steel rods stood in attention on a line
Draped by black uniform
The Lord of the rods – the wide gate remained close
Open to only those who could pay
But the dust that lay on it
Or the ant that crawled underneath it
Did not know –
That man is lower than low
And higher than high if he wisheth
That man is an algae of the earth
Eating away, parked on top of it
That because man can’t live alone and must be in bunches
Towards divisions he rushes
Yet withal what am I?
An honest dreamer –
And this?
My unforgettable dream