প্রতিবাদের সুর

তার নাম জানতে চেয়ো না
সে কে?
কোথায় থাকে, কি করে?
আমারও ঠিক জানা নেই.

তার দেখা পাওয়া বড় শক্ত
বছর কেটে যায়
হ্যালির ধূমকেতুর মতন
হঠাৎ করে আসে
আর মুহুর্তের মধ্যে
সব জ্বালিয়ে চলে যায়.

একদিন ক্লান্ত ভিড়ের মধ্যে থেকে
হঠাৎ একটা মুষ্ঠিবদ্ধ হাত উঠে আসে,
এক দৃঢ় কণ্ঠস্বর প্রশ্ন তোলে -
" রাজা, তোর কাপড় কোথায়?"

উত্তর মেলে না.
শুধু নুয়ে পড়া শিরদাঁড়াটা শক্ত হওয়ার সাহস পায়.

Life Sentence

I have been sentenced to

Lifetime confinement in solitude.

Being away from you

Is not a choice

But a necessary evil -

For my fragile heart

To survive the scare

Of another cardiac arrest

From your iron hand.

Confessions of a Crime

You announced to all
That I left you broken
Like a toy used when it was new
And discarded when a newer one arrives.

You saw my anger,
My indifference,
But never saw the tears that were made to evaporate
Using the fire of anger,
The silent fear of a broken heart
Once bitten twice shy,
Feigning indifference and non attachment
To the one whom I am afraid,
Had given all the unsaid rights over
Not only my heart but also my life.

Alas! Fear won over Love!


P.S. Inspired by the recent Confessions of one poet acquaintance

Thus the Madame spake...

She said that she has been very sick of late.

" The climate is not suiting me aye! It looks like a conspiracy by the Weather Gods to foully affect my already delicate constitution! My blood pressure varies between 200 - 44, yet I tend to all the duties given to me. But look at you all! Instead of nursing me back to my health, you are questioning the very nature of my sickness! You mean to say I am a fake? A fraud! Acting sick? Yes I did have Drama as one of my subjects in the school where I studied, but I never believe in doing or appreciating any cheap drama! Anyways the main thing is that you all are insolent scums, ungrateful beings! After the Revolution of Evolution that I have brought over in your lives, you should be obliged for life and say 'Yes' to whatever I say! Theek hai!"

We hung our heads in shame. We did not know what to ask now, or whether to ask anything anymore. We did not know what to believe and whom to believe. Certainly we did not want to believe in the doubts that were slowly creeping into our heads. Is she lying or is she not? No we can't even let that question come into our retarded minds! After all she says that she cares about us, only her way of showing concern is little different and way too genius for our uncultured minds to understand!

Suddenly from somewhere a shaky voice asks, "But Madame, it is we who are sick, don't have job or money to pay for our treatment, literally dying!"

"Oh your sickness! It is such a trivial issue! Out of sheer laziness! Listen to classical music and keep on doing some hard work and you will be fine! Now don't you bother me anymore. Let me go to the garden and paint some tree.."

And thus the Madame spake....

Bubble Wrap

Wrapped up in another time,

Another space,

Splintered into two unequal halves

Life goes on in one,

While in another, time stands still..

Afraid to think, afraid to feel

It shies away from any other time

It's clock had got stuck,

Can run no more.

Words seem more unwarranted

In this world of Silence

Mosses have taken over

Whatever was left to be said and done.

Inspired by someone..

A 'Terrible' but not a 'Tiny' tale

The day had finally come. It was a blue moon night. You entered my room for the first time, without any invitation. My heart fluttered as your first few steps travelled across the hallway and then stopped just outside my room.

And then you came inside. As you gently caressed the walls, i could see them repainting selves with different shades of red, as if blushing in joy.

And then you asked, "What are these empty frames doing on the walls?"

I answered, "Look carefully. They are the moments spent with you, captured in frames."

You looked keenly into each empty frame.

 "But I never spent those moments with you!"

 "That's why those are my Delusions and your Reality..."

বুদ্ধিজীবিদের প্রতি

হে বুদ্ধিজীবিদের দল,

তোদের বুদ্ধি এখন কোথায় গেল বল?

জাতিভেদ

তার নিথর দেহকে চিতার আগুনে 

তুলে দেওয়ার আগে জিগ্যেস করি -

" তোর জাতি কি?

নীল, লাল, সবুজ না গেরুয়া?"

জবাব আসে - "মানুষ"....

হারিয়ে যাওয়া প্রতিবাদ

রেল-লাইনের ধারে আজ ও হয়ত 

তার শেষ প্রতিবাদের চিত্‍কার

কান পেতে শুনলে, শুনতে পাওয়া যায়। 

তার ক্লাসের খাতার পাতায়
 নীল কালিতে লেখা তার কবিতার দুটি লাইন
আজ ও খুজলে, দেখতে পাওয়া যায়।

শুধু সেই নেই
আছে শুধু এক মলিন ছবি, এক শুকনো মালা
আর এক ফোঁটা চোখের জলের দাগ।

প্রতিবাদের সুর আজ ভুলে গেছি তাই
কবিতার খাতাকে চিতার আগুনে বিদায় জানাই। 

Just another conversation

- "You don't love me!!"

- "I do. But the dark doubts in the mind have created a veil over the heart and refrain you to see."

- "If you do, then why don't you say so?"

- "I do. But the unfathomable vacuum between us doesn't let my words reach your ears."

Another tiny poem

My hatred snuffed out the love from your eyes
But the Judge sentenced you to be hanged till death...

Tiny Poem

Your love killed me
My hatred did not allow me to die.....

What is real?

What is real?

Is it what I saw?

Is it what I see?

Is it what I thought?

Is it what I think?

Was it a dream?

Or is this a dream?

Or did I mistook it as a dream

When it was a nightmare?

Or is it not a nightmare

But the reality? 

And I am wide awake 

Though I deny.

What is real?

Unbearable silence 

Followed by No Answers

Yet I get answers

Or do I not?

The Voyager's dream

Once I had a dream....

That you and I like Sinbad the Sailor,

Would go on a voyage around the world for more than 80 days..

We would build a small vessel with our imagination,

Name it the 'Voyager'

Unfurl our flag over the mast and sail beyond the faraway lands.

We would travel to the Valley of Kings,

Get lost in the dark catacombs

Translate hieroglyphics to find our way back

Leave the chasing mummies behind.

We would cross the Cape of Good Hope,

Mount atop Kilimanjaro,

Fight some lions and some mythical beasts

And perhaps discover some Treasure Island.

We would befriend the Ancient Mariner

 Who would guide us beyond the western stars

Survive few storms and doldrums

But never forget to strive and seek our Neverland.

We had thus painted our vessel with vivid fantasy

But had forgotten to weigh the strength of it

Meanwhile doubts ate through it like ravaging termites

Making it too weak and shallow to make a journey.

The anchor lost its way in the tumultuous ocean,

And we hit the Rocky Isles before the sojourn could even begin

All that remained of our dear vessel

Were some shattered pieces of wood lying pathetically around.

So we both took to our separate ways

You left on a jetplane, while I took the road

We never looked back to bid goodbye

You took south, while I took north.

And the scattered dreams -  the only surviving exhibits 

were tucked away in the cobwebbed corner 

of some old, broken, shut down museum.

The Stranger at my place

I stay with a stranger at my place.

Every morning when I wake up,

She also wakes up with me.

When I finish my breakfast, rush into the elevator and press the down button,

She also does the same.

She takes the same bus as me,

Takes the seat just behind me

Even gets down at the same stoppage.

When I reach my office I find her seating in the opposite cubicle to me.

Doing the same work that I do everyday.

Follows me to the canteen for lunch

Is there when I talk with others,

And when the clock says that it's time,

She returns home with me.

She is there when I watch the television,

And also when I eat my rice,

Shuts the bedroom door the same time as me,

She is everywhere I go!!

Yet she speaks not, when I ask her about her name,

Smiles not when I make a joke,

Cries not when I feel pain and it hurts,

Worries not when I don't come home on time.

But somehow I like that she is always around.

When I tell my friends about her,

Everyone laughs and makes fun of me.

They say, my imagination is playing a nasty joke,

That there's no existence of such a person at my place.

When I ask them to visit my place and meet her,

Strangely every time she is never there!

But then as soon as my friends finally take a leave,

She comes back as if from some secret hide-out.

When I get very angry and blame her for making me look like a fool,

She never replies, just keeps on looking at me

Making me wish if I could read those inscrutable eyes,

Maybe then I could know what is going on in her mind.

Thus it continues for every day and night,

Me and my Stranger's lives go on side by side.

And though my doctor believes I've schizophrenia,

I still continue to believe that there is indeed a stranger at my place.

Not another Poetry

No It's not another poetry...it's just some thoughts that came racing into my mind like a sudden gust of wind and as part of my compulsion I'm just penning them down,as they came...so there's a high possibility of the following lines being not so organized.

It's just another ordinary day,

Another listless day going in vain

I sit in my cubicle staring at the machine in front of me

My eyes hooked on to the screen, 

My mind receiving no cognizance.

Suddenly the phone vibrates and wakes me up from my prosaic reverie

I find your number calling me on my phone.

And all the clocks stop ticking!

The world around me becomes oblivion

The only things that remain omnipresent,

Are your name and your number on my phone wall.

False Pretence

Once again poetry time!!! This one I made while returning from work oneday, during the roller coaster ride of our company tempo traveler. If asked about inspiration, then my Facebook friend and a good poet himself, Muzammil Karim's one of the latest poems would be the one. Although the theme is not the same, but nevertheless his poems really do make me think and feel at the same time.

Under false pretence I call you up every time,

As if to know the syllabus or what classes shall we have next week,

But all  I want to do is to listen to your voice when alone or in a crowd and stop the time.

Under false pretence I touch your hand,

As if to admire your latest watch or just to pretend that I can read your hand,

When all I want to do is to wrap my hands in those long warm fingers and never let them go, any time, anywhere.

Under false pretence I try to make you laugh,

By sharing a poor joke, or imitating someone's silly act,

When all I want is to listen to the music the resonates when you laugh and drown myself in that.

Under false pretence I declare my love,

By telling how much I love your sense of style or the poetic bend of your mind,

When all I want to say how much I love every bits and pieces of you,

That loving you makes me love myself,

But don't have the courage to say it out aloud.

My false pretence thus continues, amidst the only truth - my Love.

Hope and Despair

The Letter

Your letter came in a package along with a sound box.

You wrote, " Hope you can enjoy your music far more with this."

And you concluded the letter writing, 'Take Care'.

'Take Care'? What does that mean?

I read and re-read every letter thoroughly.

Maybe searching for some message hidden somewhere..

Maybe you meant something more than 'Take Care'?

Something more deep, more intimate, more profound...

Something which should not be mentioned in casual fancy...

Something which can start or stop a life...

Maybe you meant it, but forgot to mention it in some hurry

Maybe it just slipped off your mind that someone might be waiting for it

Maybe you just wanted me to read in between the lines...

I wondered and kept on wondering,

See-sawing in the lofty dreams of 'What if?'....

But still I did not get any answer...

So I came down and wrote a letter in your name

Waiting fervently for another reply....

Missing you

I had been writing you letters everyday,

Describing how my day had been,

How things are at work,

How the neighborhood child keeps on making noise every evening at a particular time,

How the anthurium gifted by you, gives flower everyday

I would describe every mundane things in detailed way

To make you the witness of my ordinary life

And in the end of the letter I'd conclude....

" I miss you"....

You would reply that you don't really believe in the concept of missing

As the world has made you too cynical to do so

But nevertheless you would laugh and write "It's ok to miss.."

"With absence, fonder the heart grows."

So I would believe and keep on missing you,

Kindling the flame that you have ignited in me

With the pain I'd get in your separation,

Keeping faith that one day you will surely return.

And dream the day you'd return,

I would light up all your darkness with love's eternal torch

So that when we can look into each other's eyes

There's no fear, there's no shame.

So I kept waiting for you, and even today I do,

But you never came, nor the promises were fulfilled

All that came were some long written words of consolation.

Like dry and withered leaves blown away with the wind.

And today again I write a letter to you,

Describing the regular and not so regular things,

Ending the letter again with 'Missing you',

Maybe out of some long grown habit.

Post script:

Don't make me keep on 'missing you' so much

That one day I may stop 'missing you'...

Strangers in the Night

It was fate that that brought us strangers together,

Chance perhaps made us to look into each others' eyes,

Attraction drew us close,

While love sealed the bond.

They say that love makes the world go round

Yes indeed we said

And became each other's world.

The Sun shone on us,

The Moon beamed at us,

The Breeze caressed us softly,

As we walked hand in hand.

Life never seemed so beautiful,

So rich in its fullest glory.

But someone somewhere kindly smiled...

Now we are just two strangers staying together

made apart by the longest bridge of all

Silence....

The silence has frozen our hearts....

Our hearts still keep beating,

But not for each other

Like chimes of the old grandfather clock

And wither away the time.

We have nothing to say to each other now,

Lest the forceful conversations at the dinner table

As we talk about mundane issues like office, children and the maid

It has become less boring, but more tiring.

We never talk about us,

Nor of our celebrated love gone sour

'Coz like our gross salaries minus tax,

Our love has been deducted at the source.

I amuse my Muse

I am not a poet. Let me emphasise that once again. I admire poetry...but never assume or delude myself to be one. But in the last one month or so, I am going through a phase after many years, which has suddenly opened a flood gate and lines and images are running through my mind like wild horses. So finally decided to pen down the thoughts in the exact way as they had occurred. 

I was searching for my muse in you,
But you laughed it off cruelly and left me marooned
On an island with just me and reality as my sole company...

It put across a mirror in front of my face,
Looking inside, I saw death instead
I screamed in fear and the mirror cracked into several pieces
In those pieces I found back my muse once again...

P.S. Name of the poem plagiarised from someone else.