A Journey to Redefine
Too far have I traveled along this way
Before I have found myself lost in the wood,
My trotting stallion, now tired and irritated,
Slows down and looks for direction –
I must have rode along the wrong path.
Never before have I been so helpless,
I never knew whether there was a right track
Nor did I care much to look for one,
The ride was enjoyable until this impasse
Now I reckon it has cost me and my wood too much.
My stallion will resent any change in course,
It is not harnessed for a different one,
So I have got to dismount and discard it
And redefine my journey if I am to proceed,
Perhaps on foot, along with others in the wood.
এতে সদস্যতা:
মন্তব্যগুলি পোস্ট করুন (Atom)
Progress
উত্তরমুছুনRiding on the back of my donkey
The wrong way – facing its rear,
And whipping the donkey backward
I am happy I am progressing!
Here are two other poems:
উত্তরমুছুনWhores
Today I went to brothel;
The whore let me in, coldly,
Never looking at my face,
Although I felt hatred in those eyes
As if I was a whore myself.
We went to bed, hastily, passionlessly,
Never looking at each other’s face,
And immediately after our transactions had finished
The brothel doors were shut behind me
And I hurried to me lonely den.
None of us said goodbye to the other,
For we always meet – we have to,
Humans isolated from each other
And allowed to meet only as whores!
--------------------------------------
In A Bustling Afternoon Street
Stony indifferent faces marching in slow parade
Staring blankly ahead toward some unknown destination.
Here is a love poem:
উত্তরমুছুনA Sigh for Me
Twenty years I had stood by your yard
In sun and rain, in snow and hail,
My heart full of love, hands full of flowers
And eyes expecting one day you would see;
Twenty summers had passed, and twenty winters
And twenty autumns and twenty springs,
Many a time you came and looked out
To where I stood from your balcony;
And never did I know from your empty eyes
Whether you had noticed me or not
Or cared to think someone’s waiting outside
Before time from all hopes made me free.
If ever, on some lonely rainy day
You happen to stand by your window
Listening to the patters of rains on the leaves of deodar –
Look will you into your heart if there’s a sigh for me?
Freedom
উত্তরমুছুনWhen I wanted to speak, the only words
That would be heard were lies,
When I wanted a work there were two jobs:
Theft and prostitution.
Suddenly I saw some people running toward me,
They were uniformed, had guns with them
And they shouted, ‘Thief, thief!’
I ran for my life as they followed me,
I ran faster and faster and looking back
Saw them reinforcing and catching up with me.
I didn’t have to run very long, however:
Now I am a full-fledged thief
And they are my allies;
I had a choice however: to be a whore, or both.
The Owner!
They rove over and look down with greedy eyes:
Their evil wings flapping menacingly,
Crooked talons glistening thirstily;
Then swoop down on their preys
With monstrous hunger.
They covet everything on earth:
Every inch of its land and every grain.
Sometimes they quarrel over the loot,
Sometimes they join hands in the loot.
Every swoop makes their wings bigger,
Every snatch makes their talons sharper,
Every bite makes their stomachs hungrier.
Their preys – bound with iron ropes
And robbed and raped every moment –
Bleed and roll about helplessly on ground;
They say they are ‘owner’ of this land!
To The Central Bank
You could print notes of biscuits
And take some care of production at least.
They Are Running
They are all running –
Anxious, fearful, uncertain souls,
Together in a stream
But elbowing and fighting each other
In a daze to be ahead of others.
They are running
Hunted by the hungry monster
In their own animal blood,
And its vicious breath
Looming up on their dumb heads.
The ground barren under their reckless feet,
The sky collapsing with swirling black clouds,
Parrots yelling and flying about in fear;
Panting, coughing and hobbling
They are rushing toward doom.
My Vehicle And I
উত্তরমুছুনWhen I was child one day I took a piece of wood
And made it my vehicle: I would put one foot on it
And push it forward with the other,
It was quite clumsy, however.
When I grew up a little I had an idea:
I made some wooden wheels and fixed them to my vehicle;
Now I could fully ride it – but it still had to be pushed,
Was very slow, and couldn’t move in all directions.
Then one day I invented a motor – and a wonder it was!
I fixed it to my vehicle and put gears, brake and a steering wheel to control it,
And replaced the wooden wheels with metal ones
So it could become faster and run everywhere.
The vehicle was running amazingly – smartly than I’d expected,
I built it a beautiful new body and widened its space,
Gradually I invented new and new features
To increase its speed and mobility.
When all my belongings I’d shifted into the vehicle I didn’t know!
Before I found myself on the street – helpless and alone!
Running after the vehicle I had developed over years,
All my wealth put in it.
Today my vehicle does not recognize me and runs on its own –
Careless, erratic and even whimsical sometimes,
And like a dog I am running after it,
My soul crying on the street.
-----------------------------------------------
The Stage And Its Clowns
I was hungry and had no food.
“Come play clown on the stage and earn it,” they asked.
“I will never go there,” I said, “Nor ever be a clown.”
But I was already there!
And it was more a battlefield than a stage!
Clowns dressed in their own bizarre ways,
Smiling but hatred hidden in their greedy eyes,
All trying their best to beat and deprive others.
There were robbers forcing others to pay,
Clever guys cheating others with sweet lies,
Smart thieves stealing in ingenious ways.
I saw whores selling their bodies and conscience,
Beggars displaying their sores to attract alms,
And weaker souls dying and taken out of stage.
Sometimes players joined hands for mutual gains,
But deception and betrayal were accepted rules.
I cried out, “This is ridiculous, wasteful and humiliating!”
They said it was the best system mutually beneficial.
I rushed to my childhood buddies
With whom I had passed many lovely moments,
But now they looked up with strange indifference,
Jealousy and enmity showing on their faces
As they kept playing like machines.
I thought of our ancestors who lived in jungles,
They were ‘barbarians’, but they lived in unity,
They were poor, but they were wise enough
To share things with others.
I came out of the stage to breathe in fresh air,
But it was no more fresh and pure,
I went to river to wash the make-up off my face
But its water was polluted and stinking,
I went to a tree for a bite of fruit
But it was already owned by some clown.
And when my hunger became unbearable
I went back to the stage to be their clown.
-----------------------------------------------
Politicians
Politicians are leaders who,
Instead of making things simpler,
Are good an complicating them
And showing their skills
In short term way outs.
The World I Want for My Child
উত্তরমুছুনThe world I want for my child
Is where every child has equal opportunity to grow,
Where no child is deprived and insecure
And no one is pitied by others.
The world I want for my child
Is where children healthily play in the lap of nature,
Where individuals don’t go on confining themselves
Into smaller and smaller artificial worlds of themselves.
The world I want for my child
Is one where everyone cares for others,
Where love, work and cooperation drive life
Instead of competition, jealousy, hatred and enmity.
The world I want for my child
Is based on friendship and proximity,
Where communities are not too big and clumsy,
Everybody equally participates in everything that affects them.
The world I want for my child
Is where people love to share things with others,
Where relationships are built on mutual trust and respect,
Humans act responsibly toward earth and its other inhabitants.
The world I want for my child
Is one frugal and abstemious,
Society cares for its children’s future,
Music, art and literature make life rich and beautiful.
The world I want for my child
Is enriched by human’s endless effort to know,
Where humans collectively strive
To build a better world for everybody on earth.
They Won’t Let Us
উত্তরমুছুনThey won’t let me love you,
For we are set on a strange ground called ‘market’
Where a rose except as commodity has no value,
Where roses do not grow, but are cultivated
To be sold for profit.
They won’t let us be friends,
For we are set to act as competitors,
They say as such we are most efficient –
Wasting and depleting resources on earth
And polluting environment for all!
They won’t let us be human,
For we are supposed just to eat and enjoy,
Killing other species that serve and feed us,
Depriving them of their rights
And leaving a bleak future for our children.
They won’t let us read poetry,
For we are set to spend and spend,
Accumulating debts to nature and posterity:
We are on back of a mad horse galloping aimlessly
And feeding it more and more only to make it madder.
They won’t let us be creative
As long as creativity does not sell in market,
For everything here is judged
By the price at which it is sold:
They have made us humans commodities.
My Stallion and I
With me on its back
My stallion gallops on;
We don’t know our destination.
We cannot stop, not even slow down for a moment
To see whether we are on the right track
Or think whether there is a way better than this,
Because slowing means disaster
And stopping is death.
It is only speed that now counts
And we must maintain it to keep going,
Ignoring the damage we inflict on others as we trod down
And on the path that we leave for our children.
I am not sure how long my stallion can run,
Just as I don’t know how long we can keep up the speed.
Traffic Jam
Sweat flowing down, tension mounting,
Here we are, trapped in this traffic jam,
Helpless in the middle of street,
No movement but engines running wastefully,
Breathing becoming hard in polluted air,
Hours wasted and everything slowed down.
More activities, more movement, more vehicles,
More traffic, more crossings, more jam.
No more land for road? – Dig subways, raise overpasses,
And put more traffic control devises on streets:
Fill this city with roads and crossings and vehicles,
Then run with turtles!
Hunted Smile
Behind those hard, hostile faces
I have seen that loving smile –
Moaning and groaning and swirling
Hunted by worries of life,
And trying hard to surface,
Behind those disagreeable faces
I have seen beautiful hearts.
Now Life Is
Now life is rivalry, living in isolated islands,
Hating and envying one another,
And meeting only for mutual gains
With forged smiles on shrewd greedy lips.
Now life is eating, grabbing and bragging,
Wasting resources while millions go unfed,
Finding unhealthy pleasure in dominating,
Trading with finer human feelings.
Now life is cruelty toward other species:
Monstrous pleasure in killing and eating those who serve us,
Driving them out of their own places
Making their lives and breaths difficult by pollution.
Now life is not sharing with
And caring for others on earth,
But the insolent isolation of a hungry monster
Who goes on eating and gobbling until it destroys itself.
Once life was not like this;
One day life will not be like this.
The Knock
উত্তরমুছুনA knock at the door.
Outside it was snowing heavily
And I was alone at home.
The knock came again;
There must be someone at the door.
I was huddled on sofa in the living room,
Too cold to move. Who could it be?
I rose reluctantly, went to the window
And peeped out through the blind:
The yard was all covered with white snow,
And under the flakes of falling snow
Someone was standing by the door.
Who could it be in this weather?
Wearing water-proof shoes, snow-smeared mackintosh,
And the hood covering the stranger’s face –
I could not recognize who it was.
Was it a neighbor? Or a thug?
I was alone at home and I was afraid.
Again came the knock;
Was it a man, or a woman?
It was not wise to open the door, I decided,
And silently came back to the sofa.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ten years after that snowy day
I still remember the knock on the door:
Who came to my door that afternoon?
Was it a mistake not opening the door?
Was it unwise being afraid and mistrust the person
Without trying to know who it was?
May be it was someone familiar,
May be it was a well-wisher
Who came to give me some message;
Was it a mistake not opening the door that afternoon?
----------------------------------------------
The Singing Bird
One day, one beautiful morning
I saw a magnificent bird,
It was blue and yellow in color,
Was singing in a tree in my yard.
I rushed to catch the bird
With no evil intention in me
But she was scared so much
Thought it wiser to flee.
I thought she would come back
And I made beautiful plans for her –
A cozy nest, some marble eggs
But never saw her near.
I regret I disturbed her,
Should have left her singing alone,
The yard would be more beautiful
If the bird was not gone.
---------------------------------
Success
Success means you have risen
Above your friends.
Success means you are able
To ignore them.
Success means you can be proud
Before your friends.
Success means you can afford
To have them envy and dislike you.
But success doesn’t mean
You can live without them.
Ask Sky
উত্তরমুছুনIf ever the weep of silence
That echoes inside my heart
You have heard,
If ever you have known
The loneliness that accompanies me,
If ever the color of pain
That tinges my tears crystal
You have seen,
If ever you have felt
How emptiness fills my heart –
Ask sky, O girl!
Ask sky what it feels to love!
------------------------------
Tears
Call it whatever you like –
Love, regard or sigh, or all –
To me it's tears more than anything,
Like dews falling off weeping leaves
In slow, silent drops.
Tears are cold drops of pains
Oozing out of the burning heart,
Tears are smoldering emotions
Dripping in silent helplessness –
Emptying out the inside.
Call me anything you like –
A lover, a worshipper, or a
Weak heart that cringes at the splendor
Of her beauty when she smiles –
What am I without tears!
They Are Coming
উত্তরমুছুনThey are coming, in hundreds and thousands,
Shabby, skinny, hungry souls,
Men and women, young and old,
Helpless, uprooted from their places,
They are coming, in flocks,
To this overcrowded, overburdened city
For food and shelter.
They come, they spread up
And they stay until they die like dogs,
They come in number more than they die
Filling every corner of this city –
Its parks, stations, overpasses,
Its streets, playgrounds, underpasses –
Spilling over every available place
Penetrating into all veins of this city.
Nature’s breasts squeezing and drying up,
Hunger driving away her children,
Where to go except this city
(Dug on the mother’s own ribs!)
Already choking with pain and ill-breath?
Drug addicts haunting its murky parks,
Muggers tramping its dingy streets,
Tarts roaming with hellish make-ups,
Children rummaging through rubbish for food,
Old people coughing and cursing
Waiting to die in reeking slums.
Greed and immorality let loose,
Alienation and uncertainty hunting all,
Dwellers are in desperate fight for wealth,
Between poverty and affluence,
Between scarcity and wastage,
Between deprivation and plunder
The city is crumpling down.
But they keep coming – everyday,
Hungry, homeless people from village,
In hundreds and thousands,
With their spades and forks and crowbars
To this city.
The Singing Bird
উত্তরমুছুনOne day, one beautiful morning,
I saw a magnificent bird,
It was blue and yellow in color
And sang in a tree in my yard.
I rushed to catch the bird
With no evil intention in me,
But she was scared so much
Thought it wiser to flee.
I thought she would come back
And I made beautiful plans for her:
A cozy nest, some marble eggs,
But never saw her near.
I regret I disturbed her,
Should have left her singing alone,
The yard would be more beautiful
If the bird was not gone.
এই মন্তব্যটি লেখক দ্বারা সরানো হয়েছে।
উত্তরমুছুনThe Singing Bird
উত্তরমুছুনOne day, one beautiful morning,
I saw a magnificent bird,
It was blue and yellow in color
And sang in a tree in my yard.
I rushed to catch the bird
With no evil intention in me,
But she was scared so much
Thought it wiser to flee.
I thought she would come back
And I made beautiful plans for her:
A cozy nest, some marble eggs,
But never saw her near.
I regret I disturbed her,
Should have left her singing alone,
The yard would be more beautiful
If the bird was not gone.
Century Homes
উত্তরমুছুন(Part-1)
There is a crack in the roof of 5th floor.
- Repair it.
The roof has become decrepit and may break down any moment.
- Put a prop under it.
We need some new water connections; there are some new families.
- Put extensions. Build new floors.
The foundation does not allow new floors; it’s risky.
- No matter, just build. It can take. Haven’t we already built some?
We need some new electricity lines too. Demand is increasing.
- Put extensions.
We are going short of water and electricity.
- Dig a new water pump and install a new generator.
These are becoming too expensive. Water layer has gone down.
- No matter. Dig deeper and raise price of both.
A man on 13th floor is addict.
- Call police.
Police takes bribe.
- Call special police and set intelligence against police.
They are all corrupt and addiction is on the rise.
- Leave it – we have so many urgent things to handle.
We need a new garage for new vehicles and new members.
- Dig another underground floor.
That will be dangerous for the building.
- What can we do? We have to maintain life standards, haven’t we?
Fuel is becoming scarce and more and more expensive.
- Leave it to the market. Those who can afford will buy.
Market is controlled by syndicates.
- Hit them.
They are too powerful and have strong political connections.
- Let’s deal with more pressing problems.
There are too many telephone connections. Lines are always busy.
- Try new technologies. Do research.
Children are watching adult movies on TV.
- Rate films.
They do not obey.
- Put these movies during midnight.
They keep awake.
- Fine the families.
How do we know?
- Hire an inspector.
Where will his bills come from?
- Why, from fine money! Isn’t a great idea?
Some inhabitants have formed rival associations affiliated with political parties.
- Forming association is a right.
But they are fighting for power and wealth and atmosphere is becoming worse. Ordinary members are suffering and they have become helpless.
- What can we do? They may join a group.
(To be continued)
Century Homes (Part-2)
উত্তরমুছুনGarage is stinking and polluting environment.
- Put restrictions as much as possible.
People are becoming sick. Children are suffering.
- Call doctors. Spend after research.
Who will pay for these?
- Why, patients?
Mr. X has bought flats of some inhabitants.
- What’s wrong with it?
He has become too rich and powerful.
- What’s wrong?
He is controlling a lot affairs of the society and has got some supporters too. He is thinking of competing in next elections.
- What’s the problem?
Families who have sold out flats are now living in garage.
- Oh poor families! Let them live there.
But it’s making garage’s condition worse.
- What can we do? We cannot drive them away. They are our people and are voters.
But some of them don’t have work and food.
- We have to feed them until they can find work.
The underground safety tank is overflowing because of too much sewerage.
- Dig it deeper.
It has the risk of polluting water level.
- Then build an over-ground tank.
What!
- Connect up to 10th floor to the underground safety and those above 10th floor to the over-ground one.
This way we will be building floor upon floor for feces!
- No. Purify the sewerage water and send to waterlines. Process the feces to be used as manure. Great ideas, aren’t they?
Plumbers are demanding extra money from dwellers.
- Complain to the administrator.
They are all the same. They are political. Dwellers are helpless.
- What to do?
Nothing. To survive they all have to become corrupt.
- But all cannot be corrupt! Someone has to pay for corruption and it is always the good or the less corrupt ones!
There was a robbery at flat 5 on 5th floor last night.
- Is the robber caught?
No. But it is suspected Mr. Y’s son is involved.
- Why isn’t he caught?
No evidence. The victims are afraid to complain. Mr. Y is powerful.
- It’s horrible!
Sewerage line on 7th floor has burst. Sewerage is getting into waterline, which also has become vulnerable.
- The problem is recurring. What about replacing the whole sewerage and water system?
This requires a huge renovation of the building. It’s too expensive and risky and boarders won’t allow it.
- Then what to do?
Just repairing the broken places, as usual.
The President
উত্তরমুছুনI wanted to be president of the country,
For I needed power to do all the good things
I had planned for people.
And one day, after lots of efforts
(And also some compromise – I tell you privately),
I became president.
And again, one day a few years later,
I had to quit, as usual.
And only then I realized
Most of the good works I’d planned
Weren’t done at all!
Arena
উত্তরমুছুনAlienated from my roots –
From my soil, from my kin,
My world made smaller and smaller,
My self trifler and trifler
Here I am – alone and helpless,
Forced onto a ground alien and labyrinthine,
Its borders vague and loose,
Games never fairly played;
Alienated from my companions
Here I’m forced into rivalry against them,
In your strange cruel rules,
Paying dearly for your fun.
This I refuse to play any more;
Long enough have I been your slave!
------------------------------------------
When Your Road Is All Mired
When your road is all mired
And you have got holes in your shoes,
It little matters which foot – left or right –
You put first when you move.
Beggars Everywhere!
উত্তরমুছুনBeggars everywhere!
Some need alms in billions,
Some need only a coupon;
Beggars everywhere!
Lenders becoming bankrupt,
Servant going on accumulating debt
On the panting chest of master;
Beggars everywhere!
Who begs? Who gives?
A Seven-year Old Daughter to Her Father
উত্তরমুছুনWherever you work all day
Come back home before night falls;
I can’t sleep if you are not beside me.
Call me at least twice during the day
So I know you are all right;
Don’t worry about me,
I am happy with my dolls and books.
I don’t want expensive things,
Just bring a small cake on my birthday
And stand by me and mom for the photo.
The Monster Is Out
উত্তরমুছুনHow long will you hide your sins?
Your flesh now rotting and falling off
Laying bare the beast in your bones;
How long will you hide the evils in your face?
Earth no longer can fill your stomach
Nor take the burden of your haughty pace,
Ruining everything with your vicious breath
How do you expect your make-up to be in place?
Now that you can’t feed him well
The monster has come out of your blood;
How long can you fight his hunger
And save yourself from his chase?
A Drop of Tear
উত্তরমুছুনWhen in my poem dusk descends on river shore
Evening breeze touches wings of returning kite,
When in my poem evening star brightens in sky
Jasmines open eyes with the stroke of moonlight,
When in my poem twilight fades along graying hills
Fireflies bustle about in aimless flight,
When in my poem dews gather on banyan leaves
Lonesome oak stares into darkening night,
When in my poem stop all noise –
Silence suspended in evening air:
I have a drop of tear
To say I love her.
A MOONLIT NIGHT
উত্তরমুছুনIt was midnight. I was awake
In my bed, sleepless.
Everywhere there was silence
Except the intermittent chirp of a cricket
Or the occasional hoot of an owl.
I got up and opened
The window of my bedroom.
A sweet smell of jasmine
Entered from garden; outside
A luminous moon flooded the night
With its golden light.
It must be a wonderful night;
I stepped out, and a shower of soft light
Greeted me as I came outside.
It was full moon, the moon
Shining magnificently in the autumn sky
Illuminating everything with its bright touch.
Patches of white cloud drifted leisurely
In a sky adorned with twinkling stars,
Moonlight fell in tiny grains on house roofs,
Trees stood motionless, as if
Listening to the sound of silence,
Their leaves, glistened in moonlight,
Spoke silently with air, and with the
Green grass down on the ground.
Crossing the meadow
I walked to the road which lay
Like a motionless stream;
Pebbles strewn on it glowed like pearls.
In a clump were bloomed some flowers,
Wild and unfamiliar,
Smiling with the touch of moonlight.
A cricket started chirping,
All on a sudden. Its sound
Kept increasing and increasing
Filling the night with a strange reverberation.
Then it suddenly stopped – as suddenly as
It had started – leaving the night
Even more silent and still.
In a pond water stood calm and still,
Mirroring the moon on its silver bed.
I took a pebble and threw it;
It fell with a plop, shattering the moon into pieces,
Moonlight glittering on waves spreading out in circles;
After a while the waves died down
And everything became quiet and still again.
I wondered whether I was in a dream.
Sitting by the road, moonlight
Falling upon me like drizzles of gold,
I never found silence so beautiful,
Accompanied with the stillness
Of the moonlit night.
And then I felt it wasn't only
Silence that filled the night,
That made the night so beautiful:
This moon, this moonlit night
I had seen them before,
This calm of nature, its gentle breath
I had felt many a time;
They seemed so familiar,
Revealing something so intimate!
Suddenly I remembered!
The shining moon I had seen many a time
In that face charming and beautiful!
The soft moonlight, its soothing touch,
I had felt with that smile divine and wonderful!
The tranquility of the moonlit night, its serene beauty,
I had seen in those lovely eyes!
And then, I knew not whether it was a dream,
I see her sitting by me – holding my hand
And smiling magnificently!
LOVE AND HATRED
উত্তরমুছুনWhen you love someone, you deserve love in return,
When you hate, you have given the right to hate.
GARBAGE
Garbage grows and piles up every day
Dirtying streets and meadows, suffocating breaths,
The more we clean, the more is there left
Claiming more and more of our means.
And suited cleaners dance on the hills of garbage.
THE SIX PRINCIPLES
Just think of the following before you do something:
1. Is it important?
2. Is it necessary (or can you do without it)?
3. How much does it spend?
4. Does it hurt anyone?
5. What are the consequences?
6. What garbage does it produce that needs cleaning?
EQUALITY
If a rich man can steal a million dollars
Why cannot a beggar try?
After all, they are both thieves in the act.
DEVELOPMENT
Children unfed beside rude overabundance,
Women dishonored beside flagrant ornamentation,
Oldies insecure beside obscene luxury,
Labor slaved beside needless creativeness.
Earth ravaged by wanton voraciousness,
Its lesser inhabitants abused by God’s preferreds,
Pollution suffocating everything on earth,
Resources dwindling in festive wastefulness.
And we call it development!
THE POOR LITTLE GIRL AND THE HUNDRED TAKA
উত্তরমুছুনThey were begging, the little girl and her mother,
By a departmental store in the city
When someone gave the girl a hundred taka note
And said, “Buy yourself something.”
The mother at once took away the note,
Saying, “Let’s keep it in safety.”
The girl looked worriedly at her mother,
Who gave her an assuring smile.
The girl’s world changed in a moment.
She had never had a hundred taka before.
A hundred taka! What could she do with it?
There were so many things to have!
So many things to buy!
A few days ago she had seen a girl
Coming out of the store with her parents
With a big beautiful doll in her hand
And leaving in an expensive car.
Could she buy such a doll with a hundred taka?
She wanted to ask her mother,
But she was too busy begging.
She could also buy the beautiful pigeon
She had seen in the grocer’s shop,
Or that funny little dog that barked when squeezed,
Or that battery-train that ran on its rails.
That night when she went to sleep
On the floor of the little squalid hut in the slum
She was still planning what to buy
With the hundred taka that she had.
When she fell asleep, she saw
She was flying like a kite in the sky,
Playing with the clouds,
Holding that beautiful doll in her hand.
But her mother was still awake, worried
How she would pay the thousand taka rent
That was due in two days.
WE ARE HUMANS!
উত্তরমুছুনWe are humans –
We are best of all creatures on earth.
We are humans – we can die for love
And kill thousands out of hatred.
We are humans – we pursue science and reason,
But indulge in absurdity and fanaticism.
We are humans – we want a safe world,
But go on making bombs and guns.
We are humans – health is our great wealth,
But what’s wrong with some marijuana and cigarette?
We are humans – we care for our women,
But sometimes rape them for fun.
We are humans – we make cost-benefit analysis in every business,
But waste resources in useless consumption.
We are humans – love is our universal religion
And hatred is our most profitable business.
We are humans – committed toward a beautiful world
By polluting its earth, air and water that rear us.
We are humans – we can create useless values
And impose them on others.
We are humans – we eat to live
And can afford to eat what is not food.
We are humans – we care for other creatures,
But hunt them brutally for mere pleasure.
We are humans – we preach equality,
But believe at heart in division and class.
We are humans – we pursue music and art
By engaging ourselves in jealous competition to promote them.
We are humans, we are creative in all fine things
Only as long as we can profit from them.
We are humans – we build mosques and churches for prayer,
And commit all kinds of sins on earth.
We are humans – democracy is our principle
And cheating, machination and fighting are our ways.
We are humans – we are superior,
For we can make others pay for wrongs done by us.
HATING IS HEROIC!
উত্তরমুছুনWhen we love, we love like thieves –
Shyly, silently,
Lest we are caught.
When we hate, we hate vehemently –
Shouting and throwing hands,
As if hating is heroic.
THE WOMAN AND THE PRIEST
উত্তরমুছুনThey had been starving for two days –
The poor woman and her young children;
She had no work
So they had no food.
A priest came to her and said,
“Pray to God – he is owner of everything.”
The woman looked up to see
A plump, well-dressed man standing before her.
“Could you tell me,” she asked desperately,
“What prayers would give me food?”
“You have to work hard,” said the priest
As he fled away hurriedly.
“But what do you yourself do for a living?”
Shouted the woman from behind!
MY STALLION AND I
উত্তরমুছুনWith me on its back
My stallion gallops on.
We don’t know our destination.
We cannot stop, not even
Slow down for a moment
To see whether we are
On the right track, or to think
Whether there was a better road;
Because slowing means disaster
And stopping amounts to death.
It’s speed that I must keep up
To balance myself on my stallion
Without caring for the damage
That I am inflicting on others
As we trod down, and to the path
I am leaving for my children to follow.
I am not sure how long my stallion can run,
Just as I don’t know how long
I can keep up the speed.
THEY WON’T LET ME LOVE YOU
উত্তরমুছুনThey won’t let me love you,
For we are forced onto a strange ground called Market,
Where a rose not as a commodity has no value –
Where roses do not grow, but are grown
To be sold for profit.
They won’t let us be friends,
For we are destined to act as competitors
On this merciless ground – as buyer and seller –
Where conscience is absent, freedom a farce,
And they claim we are most efficient as such!
They won’t let us be humane,
For we are supposed only to be consuming,
Wasting and depleting resources of mother earth,
Polluting its cradle, and slaying
Its species that serve us.
They won’t let us read poetry,
For there is no time as we gallop aimlessly
On back of a mad, hungry horse –
Feeding and feeding it
Only to make it madder.
They won’t let us be creative
As long as creativity does not sell
In market, where everything is judged
By the price at which it is sold –
In a strange, worthless medium called Money.
They have made us humans commodities.
উত্তরমুছুনWHEN YOUR ROAD IS ALL BOGGY
When your road is all boggy
And you have got holes in your shoes,
It little matters which foot – left or right –
You put first when you move.
ECONOMIC SUPERPOSITION
উত্তরমুছুন(How Economics and Quantum Physics Merged at My Bakery:
A Challenge to Schrödinger’s Thought Experiment with Cat)
When I opened my bakery in the morning
A customer from the neighborhood came in.
She wanted a loaf of bread
And when got what she wanted
Her wavefunction collapsed and she left.
Then came others, one by one.
Some wanted biscuits, some wanted pastry,
Some wanted bread, some wanted sandwich
– Whatever needed in their own little realities –
And when their needs were met
Their respective wavefunctions collapsed
And they left.
About noon came a loan officer from the local bank
Where I had applied for a loan.
He inquired about my running capital,
Took stock of the inventory of the bakery,
And checked the cash book very well.
His only interest was to assess
The financial condition of my business
As well as its capital need;
And when he found all his queries sufficiently met
His wavefunction collapsed and he left.
Then came a researcher from the economic research bureau.
She had a long questionnaire in hand, her objective
Was to determine the role of bakery in the economy:
Its contribution to GDP, its role in employment generation
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
And when all her questions were satisfactorily answered
Her wavefunction collapsed
And she left happily.
In the mean time came other customers,
Each with their own demands,
And each of them, with their wavefunctions duly collapsed,
Left the shop.
In the afternoon came an officer
From the internal revenue department.
He checked my cash books, proofs of tax payment,
And examined all documents to make sure
I was not cheating on tax;
And having his wavefunction duly collapsed
Left the bakery.
About 11 p.m. when I was about to close
Came in a couple of hooligans.
They had no interest in any of the foods,
Nor in their tastes, nor in their prices,
But only in the cash box of the shop:
One of them held his revolver at me
While the other robbed the cash,
And as they took away all the money in the box
Their wavefunction collapsed and they left.
And before I collapsed in my chair
– Utterly upset and broken –
I called the police at 999,
And sat waiting to experience
Collapse of another wavefucntion.
A JOURNEY TO NOWHERE
উত্তরমুছুনToo far have I traveled in these woods
Before I find myself lost in their maze,
My trotting stallion, faster every day,
Looks for direction in the race –
I must have ridden the wrong way.
The more we explore the woods
The more labyrinthine they appear,
The ride, although smug and fun,
Takes me and my horse nowhere:
Is there a right path – a fair one?
“Tame your horse,” warn me the woods,
“Look back to where you belong
And give others their fair claim.”
But I’ve bet too much on my stallion,
Even my soul and my name!
ALL YOU LEFT FOR ME ARE MY TEARS!
উত্তরমুছুনEvery night when I look up at the sky
I fill its emptiness with my tears
That shine above as stars,
When buds try to open their eyes
I shed my tears on their sepals
To stir them to bloom into flowers,
If ever all oceans on Earth dry up
And fail to send clouds to the sky
I will offer them my tears,
When you stroll down your morning yard
Some tears I will drop as dews
To wet your feet as souvenirs.
Your eyes have taught me how to love
Your smile to fill emptiness
Wherever it appears –
But you have taken away everything I had
And to fill emptiness
All you left for me are my tears!
TRUTH AND DIVINITY
উত্তরমুছুনFor thousands of years I had wandered
In the path of knowledge – in search of truth:
From Plato's 'Idea' to Hegel's 'Synthesis'
I had searched with all my tools –
From Democritus' atom I had climbed down
To proton, and had wondered
At the invisible colorfulness of the quark,
And at last got lost
In the amazing subtlety of the string,
For thousands of years I had traveled
In a universe bewilderingly expanding:
Treading along Kant's space-time
I'd galloped in the world of relativity and uncertainty,
And going far back had halted
At the grand gate of singularity –
Truth had so far eluded me.
For thousands of years I had searched
For divinity – in the realm of beliefs:
From totem to animism to deities
And then to an unintelligible God
With human attributes in worldly perfection,
Had ended up in painful rifts in humans
In a world of conflict and hatred.
Then suddenly, as if from heaven
Came a woman – in overwhelming stupendousness:
An image so wonderful
I bowed down in reverent submission,
An image so beautiful
Giving me immeasurable delight,
An image so loving
Filling my heart with care and purity,
An image so sacred, so real, so eternal!
There is no other truth than beauty,
There is no other divinity than love.