poetry

IN THE LIGHT OF WINTER FULL MOON
In the thick fog of winter your face is in no way seen clearly-
As if by the violent stroke of Mahin's horse
Torn asunder scorched ornaments of colour that
Suddenly fell on transparent glass and turned upside down.
Yet I know, you are covering your bashful face by two hands
There is only weeping- silent fall of tears.
I see
In severe cold that pierced your dress
A small body is trembling like a pigeon
And someone with ruined stroke of colour is trying to cover your holy face,
Terror stricken trembling look, time and again.
At last overcoming all hindrances of winter
You came out from the inherent soil of Bengal
And uncovering yourself totally
You are exposing those frenzied gatemen easily
Who wanted to darken your Bengal
By hijacking your entire moon light.
Yet in this bone penetrating thick foggy night of winter
What a marvelous full moon light glows
In the bare settlement of the north.
And in that full moon light
From the shade of the stroke of Mahin's horse's tail
I see your trembling adolescent face
As if a sharp green unctuous portrait of Bengal.

THIS SHORE THAT SHORE
How long is the path, yet there is barbed vigilance in that path.
There are innumerable birds, yet a solitary bird sings there.
Severing bondage of the same blood the bird that fled away
It's cry wets, aha, a dreamy Rakhi.
I see thousands of flowers bloom in the offshoots of Krishnachura.
In that frontier of fire, I don't get any shelter.
Sitting in the raft of cloud of the single sky we two
Seek memoirs inside memoirs sometimes unmindfully.
Sometimes want to touch those left out feelings with two hands
Sometimes it seems to be definite-sometimes uncertain.

FOR A BRAVE LADY
In the full moon light of Magh, once the lady that came down
From the golden throne to the hard rock of the earth,
In the sinless vanity of obstructed wings she wanted to win
The difficult heart of a hunter lad;
She did not know of any passion
She was not aroused by any corporal lust;
In severe thirst like infatuated fog
Her heart rhythm was oscillating
And in the skin pores of the hunter lad
Then reigned only loathsome cry of a starved tiger;
Beneath its cruel paws was heard injured, scalded
And wounded groans only of a girl's taintless scorched meat.
Thereafter her turning around.
As if inside the luminous light with an oblique trident in hand
Insolent bragging of a demon- destroying
Apparition of a woman trembled the whole earth;
And even knowing the irresistible fate of that trembled earth
She, one by one, bit by bit, pulled with much effort
From inside the variegated masks, loathsome skeleton of those people-
Who remaining camouflaged inside their
Masks so long covered unknown countenances of themselves;
Whose hunger was more dangerous than hungry tigers?
Whose drooled saliva floated Bay of Bengal
Those garrulous nudity that came out of the shade of their garments
- which was undisclosed, invisible and concealed.
This time the face that came out from exposed nudity
In the fire of their combined wrath,
Body of Lolapangi is burning
From inside her breasts smells of ruined meat are coming out.
As if her vagina is not any cave opening that longs for human birth
As if it is full of explosives containing lava of a volcano-
Which in one moment can torn asunder
And turn the earth into a frightening wreckage.
That is why green wilderness is burning
At the fire of your wrath now
You are shouting in one voice as your masks are falling down
One by one
The spark that emanating from inside the fireball of
Your eyes tried to burn the breasts of that over daring lady
She is now beyond your reach;
Now her voice will not be silenced by the bragging
Of your ten crores of golden coins;
From inside the darkness like naked ferocious animals
Your fire of murderous instinct
Will not be able to touch her hair tip now;
For now she is not that small lass
Coming down from the golden throne
Inside the cover of moon light.
Now she is undulating, now she is the embodiment of Lolapangi;
Coming hastily from the ancient city, sister of love sick dead Munya.
She is now scattered in the sky, in the netherworld,
In planets and stars,
In the boundless province of the earth.
Look there, prostrating before her feet is your ugly mask;
In sun light your piece meal faces are undulating softly;
You did not understand, all your unseen vanity in a moment can prostrate near her feet like unsmelt fallen flowers.
So for that brave girl
You have nothing to do except
Looking dolefully out for some distant eternal star
For eternal time.

MASK
Masks fell off from the faces
The brave girl spat upon;
She is sitting alone in the fire of rage;
Tickle reigns in secret organs.
Those who set sail in the current of progress
They are now shackled in reaction; hypocrites wear tiger skin,
They are the obstacles in resisting the upstream.
Faithful beings do not know them,
The girl first identified that face;
Those who loiter in empathy,
Saliva drools in those lips- they are uncouth,
They did not understand the truth at the sudden explosion
As pomegranate juice oozes after rupture;
As if the enraged is engaged in war
Anyhow will tame her.
But that girl did not obey him at all
Only untied her breast's knot;
Those whose names are written in her private parts
She raised them in social boat.
Because of that incident fire spread everywhere,
Those faces are oscillating behind the mask;
The moon of the last night faded away
Oscillates heart inside sleep.
Seeing this the girl weeps alone,
Wild animals are caught in the net;
The girl sees eclipse in the moon,
That is why she walks from eternity to eternity.

WHERE IS THE END OF THE PATH?
If there is no end of the path
Then what responsibility do I bear that,
In searching that path I shall get tired and being depressed
Shall look over alone in tearful eyes;
And after traversing a lot of distance
And standing in front of a vast empty wilderness like the horizon
Shall ask silently only to myself: 'Where is the end of the path?'
In fact, does anybody not know 'Where is the end of the path?'
Long, long ago, before crossing adolescence my dear friends
Shymol, Animesh and Ratan while looking out for a faraway planet
In search of the path
Suddenly drowned in the western sky like the marooned sun one day-
After many days as their shadows of memoir trembled in the darkness
Again the same question continued to prick me:
'Where is the end of the path?'
Before the turning of the year one day I came to know that
Tuli's left this place, Shashanka also left with Iti Di
In childhood days without informing anybody Shashthi Moktar
With his son Anadi when left bag and baggage towards an
Uncertain dark path-then it seemed:
From each of our life something is breaking down,
As the shore of Uzanchalk breaks down
At the pull of all consuming Jomuna,
As transparent water is lost in its whorl like bubbles
- Like that
Everything is becoming translucent.
One day when the cavalry brigands wearing iron vest
With insolent vanity of victory in chest
Bragged their glory exhibiting armed demonstration in the universe;
Then Ranudi's left for another homeland- Shiladi also
To Artipur- unknown Bengal.
A pull was observed in our root-
Folds appeared on my father's forehead,
Tear line accumulated in the eye's corner of mother
As if informed everybody like perpetual mourning sign:
Get ready.
Then also one question whorled repeatedly inside consciousness,
'We will go but where is the end of the path?'
I don't see Saraswati for how many days, she is in Ghatshila now
Shiladi's sithi is devoid of vermillion-
In the parentless, brother and sister less abode in fright of solitude
Occasionally only her syllables of letter groan:
'Brother, shall not we live again together someday?'
Streams of our tears crossing Padma-Meghna-Brahmmaputra
When reaches the shore of the Ganges
And strike their heads repeatedly, we fail to understand.
Still today we are in the middle of the path.
The path following which we shall advance
In that path with glittering swords in hands who are standing;
Raising two hands in the sky they ordered:
Wipe out all signs of the past,
Destroy museum, destroy sculpture,
Along with change of faith
Change the succession of blood if necessary.
So, like a flock of refugee in darkness in search of a destination
Except looking out for the path
And advancing forwards what else we can do?
Tattering darkness of night the light that ushers dawn
To take bath in that light
On this side of the path those who are waiting
Do you know them?
If not, where is the end of the path, where is the end of the path'
Asking this question repeatedly do not embarrass them any more !
In their eyes eternal sleep
Let them sleep a bit this time.

BY THE PAINTBRUSH OF TIME
Suddenly when the sky came down
Closer to the earth leaving horizon
All reverberations, noise stopped,
Unconscious bee lay on the leaf.
The cowboy is returning in the evening twilight
Bats are hanging in the shade of trees
Boat song in the voice of exhausted boatman
Obedient air in his sail.
Ulu sound is reverberating far and near
Oily lamps glow in basil ground
Intimate dear ones are indulging
In a revel-route captivating heart in Sithi and Vermillion.
Then at the solitary house corner two solitary souls
Sitting face to face are writing all musical notation of emotion
And raising some memorial songs in heart.
Their paired together lips are trembling
In front burns flame of lean lamp
Fragrance of body in the wings of swan couples
Both are floating in the unfathomable ocean water.
Yet much remained untold then
Still in both eyes didn't descend incessant rain
Still did not appear moving eagerness of estrangement
Still did not tremble hands over hands.
Thirst was not quenched, passed how many eras
His touch was not felt in organs and organelles
When passed twilight hour
Still remains weight of shoreless estrangement.
Sleep of dual-coupled eyelids
Was snatched by silence of night
In the restless agitation of trembling light
In one life all conversation will not end.
So, sitting in the midst of silence both of them
See with eyes unwinking look
In silenced lips overwhelmed awakening
Will be drawn by paintbrush of time in eternity.

IF INDICT SCEPTER
If indict scepter- I shall accept tamely.
If there is any unpardonable mistake,
And for that mistake if geographical boundary is changed,
If the hurled arrow of son floating in emptiness penetrate your corpus As mythological missile what punishment will you give then?
If indict scepter - I shall accept tamely.
Father, once you were inside my dream,
In your dream I found
My integral, blue sky;
But you know father,
Those dark clouds of Sravana that cover that beautiful transparent blue sky
And the thunderclap that hides behind it
With insolent grudge burns the earth to ashes,
I am that deluded boy raised from that howl of fire
I never understood that
By striking you
I am striking the very root of my existence.
For that audacity, any punishment that you will give me-
I shall accept tamely.
If indict scepter, if indict banishment
To the inaccessible deep forest of Africa
I shall accept, this is my desired reward of suicidal destruction.
Father, if I could realize that, for my mistake so much blood,
So much liquid filth would be deposited in the fatherland,
If I would know, in the sacrificial place of Nikumbhila
My map would be coloured by your breast’s blood,
If I could know, in midnight your apparition would come
And kill you by it’s merciless two hands;
If I would know, your motionless body will lie
Bloodstained on the starved stair;
If I would know, from your heart seven crores of bloodstream
Would flow through the steps
Then I would,
By each finger of this hand would stifle firmly
My nonplussed soul,
I would plunge towering thorns of Shimul into my eyes.
If you would rouse from sleep, in my breast piercing affliction,
You would see with folded hands beside your feet lay your son, genuflected.
How could you deny him with your merciless two hands?
I know,
Your heart was a calm affectionate river;
Flowing like transparent fountain in the shade of mountains
Your heart was a monochord of Baul, tired boat-song.
Father, did you know, the water that emanated from your heart
Would one day forgetting everything regurgitate yourself
In the Bay of Bengal?
Without you, that soil will groan beside the shore of Madhumati?
If you would know, if you would know
This responsibility of fatherhood will one day be repaid
By your blood money;
Then also would you become the freedom-hymn of subjugated people.
That pierced the soil of this homeland?
Father, today you are not here - only your shadows remain.
In very dawn piercing sky the marooned sun that rises
In the eastern sky
Its deep colour mixing with the green nature
Emanates what a miraculous shade from horizon to horizon.
I see you there.
In my respiration of each moment
You enter as perpetual air.
Your perpetual presence in my whole existence
Transforms me into you;
It means I do not have any separate existence without you.
Yet fearing your absent existence
A group of hunters wants to smudge
Layers of darkness over your shadow.
Once whom you bonded by your warm hug of heart,
They over the pride of your existence
Want to smudge black darkness of twenty five
Your apparition comes to Bangabhumi without yourself.
Father, to err is human
This body of mine is servant to that error.
If possible, forgive this despicable son.
And those who want to change the soil of this homeland
Bought by your blood money,
Who want to embellish sectarian mark on red green flag?
If your forgiving hand one day runs to the wilderness
Give me also banishment that day
Drop me to any deep forest crossing this earth.
If indict me scepter- if my body becomes motionless in the gallows
Everything I shall accept tamely;
But I'll never accept
Combined killer darkness of August stifling my chest.

DARKNESS
Black darkness is chasing from all sides
That transparent white cloud which was loitering like variegated dear in the bluish sky-it is now rushing towards the deep forest
Panting in fear of Kalapahar.
And the horizon that appeared free like the wings of birds
Now thick cloud like rock is about to engulf it
As if at the combined attack of thunderbolt and lightning
The sky will torn asunder over the head.
This earth, this nature, this habitat
Never heard this type of severe groaning.
This ear penetrating scream of people
Never dashed to the ground with such force.
Then crossing the dense black cloud
Will never ever come out moon lit night?
Piercing darkness of night will never come morning sun rise? What type of cloud accumulated in the sky?
What type of thunderbolt is it- all consuming severe smite of lightning?
Is this then revenge of nature?
Is this then Nemesis- our merciless fate?
Where to we have come?
Crossing long path of black night
In search of which light
We came by mighty cyclone
And current of deluge
Erosion took place in that ground now-
From the summit of mountain rolls big chunks of rocks,
And by its strike torn asunder around
Our much toiled dream habitat.
The river that flows through the calm and
Quiet nature of the earth
The fountain that comes down along the slope of mountain
Taking bath in its water, whenever we are hoping to see the world
At our heart's content,
Then and there the earth is trembling at a mighty tremor
In the layers of horizon is dancing festival of death
From within the surroundings of all pervading black cloud
We know not any path to get out.
O time, o eternity, o morning of sunrise you only tell us-
Where shall we go now?
Mighty darkness is chasing from all sides
Thick cloud is coming fast like Kalapahar
As if ringing the bell of death.
From the hand of this life destroying death he who can save us - We have nothing to do than to wait for the guardian deity who rushed in search of Vishalyakarani.
So much darkness around us now!

AFFECTION
While walking on the street- Lata calls from the side:
Wait a bit, brother, I've something to say, some tales.'
Taken aback, I stop suddenly at the call
Lata's touch I feel in the chest- get her fragrance in nose
Sleep descends in both of my eyes
Pin drop silence prevails in the universe –
Totally silent, noiseless-speechless
Through it flock of birds fly to the horizon
Inside the waves of air only restless wings return home;
Amongst the birds
One grayish kite stands still like a wall painting
As if it in very dense bluishness tells some doleful dialogue
Mental affliction intensifies while walking along the path.
Gradually blooms yellow morning;
Only yesterday
which was old, which was past
Morning sun comes and breaks its foundation
Only clearly reveals present in it
I give ear to:
Hear sweet murmurs of birds, sweet voice of cuckoo
Anything which is amazing,
Which is surprising and anything
which is beautiful.
I see it opening my eyes, see bird's nest.
Indifferent look to the empty sky alone
What I want to see is not seen;
Calls some unknown, unfamiliar bird
Taken aback I look at the side of the street-
As if some dumb founded tree
In darkness compassionately shall show their dance.
So chest trembles in shudder
Creepers embrace hard chin all over
Feel warm hug of heart
Mind soaks in sky exhausting rain.
Cannot go - where it was intended to go
Only heart afflicting air blows inside the chest.
So nothing is told
Walking stops.
Conversation stops
While trying to walk forward
see creepers rolled up bit by bit in legs.

THE HUNTER'S MOON
The cloud is like the wings of a falcon
- Inside its orifice conjurer moon stands still
In such a way that its dwelling is perpetual.
In this surprising moonlight of Dhaka's sky
We some poets are drinking silently Silvery Medeira of moon.
May be sometimes later cloud will disappear;
Looking at its insolent face it seemed:
A tall Dinosaur is advancing towards the stellar sky
To engulf the whole horizon.
This momentary scenario that produced an illusive magic in the neurons of our brain,
Getting lost in that trap we looked winkless to an endless bluish sky.
Getting out from inside the explosion all around, sitting on the
Back of the falcon we only continued to fly
Like Neil Armstrong to an unknown earth of moon.
Thinking and thinking our whole body turned wet
In dews of moon light- at the shivering of smoothness
Our stone body continued to shudder repeatedly.
For how many times we have not seen such moon in the sky.
Who today sits in the moon-congregation and
Pours such packets of light to our earth?
Landing on the moon soil what great was uttered by Neil Armstrong?
That tale was not known- may be one day it will be known,
One day magic of moon light hypnotism will carry us
To a further homeland of a star.
Will anybody like you welcome us with a smiling face?
In this full moon night the sky wore light tip
In the forehead;
Beneath it we some poets are looking winkless
With surprised eyes- as if nature has caught fire.
In its blazing flame may be remains some scorched face like moon-
That face one day bloomed inside offended state of mind.
This full moon coming down from inside the cloud
Will transform into total estrangement
And mix up with lamp-black of our eyes.
Today, that is why such a big arrangement of moon light.
In this moment we some poets will not in any way
Drop our eye lid.
Look there, the full moon has come out from the shade of the cloud,
Unveiling herself in the dark-blue sky as if you are standing like light.
SCEPTICISM
You say malefeasancé, say loveless treachery;
Say detached disinclined love-sick.
I listen silently paying heed to it- I don't say anything.
The heat of fire burning on the other side of the shore touches my body
I talk in an unknown tongue like a timid cockatoo,
Still I cannot save myself from that combustion of fire anyway.
I try to get out of the burnt cottage.
Shout loudly, 'Save me.'
Familiar known faces giggle.
Somebody whispers to my ear
Asks, 'Why are you so indifferent to motherland, my child?'
I don't say anything.
Drops of tears shed from my two eyes.
Staking my life I try to uproot my last abode of existence
And throw it to some unknown deep river
From where floating and floating, one day I shall reach some unknown burnt-out port.
Yet this body of mine is as if a motionless rock
The more I want to roll it further
The more it wants to grasp the intrinsic roots.
Legs stumble in nettles,
From inside grasps hypnotizing creepers
Cannot disentangle it in no way
Behind me is the death-well
In front impassable sharp darkness;
In which direction shall I go?

FESTIVAL OF DEATH IN DARKNESS
The sun set in the western sky a bit earlier.
There is pin drop silence in all directions.
In deep forest crickets' chirpings are heard.
Off and on fireflies glow like stars.
Nature trembles piercing the shrouds of nature.
In darkness suppressed respiration of
Some cowards and terror stricken people
At the tremor of gently blowing breeze is rushing
Towards the shore of horizon.
Dividing the darkness into two by the sharp weapon
Like sword alien cavalrymen are advancing in a breath.
At their harsh voice forest, nature is torn asunder.
Blood is gushing out from the body of some people
Imprisoned with shackles saliva is coming out from their lips, and Surrounding them those cavalrymen who are engaged
In celebration of victory- in their faces eyes there is fire of murderous instinct
In their jaws solemn resolve of change-
Their chest is mighty with Oath of commitment.
Right at that moment in the body of a fugitive prince remains
Tattered robe of disguise;
At the mortification of defeat he is hunchbacked,
At the corner of eyes afflicted tears,
At the sound of wind flapping of birds stillness of night
Is smashing into smithereens. The universe
Is groaning at the wailing of dogs far and near.
There is chanting of hymns from sacred books
Cavalrymen are dancing with cloaks over their bodies,
Turbans in heads, medieval swords in hands.
In this night goblets will be filled in by the blood of the heathens!
In sky, in air, there will be reverberations of victory of weapons;
In darkness in the festival of death will rouse nature, forest;
All preparation for it is complete-
Mighty cataclysm will take place at the blowing of Israfil's trumpet.
'Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, lord'
Those who beg in doleful voice,
Their doleful voice is extinguished by the giggle of the cavalrymen.
All longing fails. All affliction drifts in blood stream
Shackled men raising both hands groan:
'O sun, O morning, O lord of the day,
Piercing darkness come up to this frenzied universe, once for all;
Deliver us, leave us in a faraway homeland.
Only once for all, lord, grant this life once for all- we don't believe in hereafter.
There is nothing called second life.
Deliver us; rescue us from the shoreless sea...'
Pulseless corpses lie in the darkness of forest, in the stunned universe
Blood stream only flows to the water of Gangotri.
Festival does not end- only it is the beginning of festival.

HOLY FIRE
The river which I wanted to rouse last night with intent request-
She now wants to go back towards the sea lowering its head.
Today there is no restlessness in her chest,
In her calm face reigns amazing solitude
As if at midnight in the flower garden
Secretly entered an amateur thief;
And in concealment accompanying maudlin cloud
He is going to the faraway sky.
Today heavy rainfall will take place from cloud-
When all flowers will be wet
Then affliction in chest will fall on the dust of soil;
We shall come and stand
On dual forest in dark night-
Infatuating dog will be our street companion.
I know a bit afterwards the gate of the heaven will be opened;
Brothers will go along-
One by one dearest ladies will reach there;
When the invisible sky will be covered by black cloud
He will decorate himself in counter-memoir meditation;
From Kailash mountain
With circumspection pluck golden flower bloomed in lake.
With that dream in chest we shall stand
Beside the shore of the river; after the whole night’s rainfall
Sea water will be calm and quiet like inconsolable child-
Denizens, birds, trees, natural beauties will be clamorous in festival.
At last devouring night’s darkness in dawn
Sacred fire will come and devour the city in bright light.

MY DREAMS
I have decorated slices of my dreams in a golden plate.
Suddenly this plate descended from the heaven to my courtyard.
I brought it with circumspection and placed it
In the circle of my chest like a centre;
And those dreams lay like Roman sculptures in long awaiting.
There is none in the universe- from deep forest
Birds fled away to unknown sky-
In noise laden Hastina great messenger is drowning,
Following natural course those heroes have not returned still.
That guide has not come in the disguise of young man-
Angel Rafael is going back alone with failed mission-
Solitary feather weeps in the golden plate.
Shall I sit down grasping the golden plate in
My chest till eternity- evaporate fast
All my stratified visible dreams like camphor?
Chest trembles over the question.
Then from the sea comes angry Dolphin;
Places its hand on the golden plate-
Rushing cavalrymen
Instantaneously snatch the dream
And disappear in the darkness of dusk
In the deep forest's passage in nonplussed air.
I sit alone in the river shore- solitary fisherman
In my two eyes dances frenzied boat sunk at midnight.