সুযোগ সীমিত, যাবি?

এই বেশ্যামাগী, তোকে ভালোবাসবো এই কয়েকদিনের জন্য
চলে আস, এসি রুম কাটাবো সময়, নরম বিছানায়
কিছুদিন ওই ঘিঞ্জি বস্তিতে না থাকলেও চলবে মাতওয়ালি কিছু রাত
সকালে বেডটি, সন্ধায় ডিনার, সিনেমা হল-এ ইংলিশ চলবে
রাতে জমকালো পোশাকে ফাইভস্টার পার্টিতে নিয়ে যাবো, উইস্কি বিয়ার যা চাস সব
সুযোগ সীমিত, যাবি?

এই খাঙ্কিমাগী, কিছু বিদেশি ভাষা শিখে নিবি কিছু, শিখিয়ে দেবো
পাবলো নেরুদা পড়ে শুনাবো তাই, দেশী হেলাল হাফিজ আর জমে না শালা
বলে দিচ্ছি এই কয়েকদিন তোকে ধর্ষিত হতে হবে না, ভালোবাসা পাবি
টাকা দেবো, আদর দেবো, বিরিয়ানি ফিরিয়ানি যা দেখিসনি কোনদিন
রেইললাইন এর খদ্দের দালাল, ওসব কিছুই থাকবেনা, তুই মুক্ত
সুযোগ সীমিত, যাবি?

Advertisements

Beloved from Arakan

I have taken a break from ‘He Who Summoned the Magpie Robin’ , so I am ending up writing poems only. Writers block has been harsh on me. I want to go back to working on the story. But for now this is a new piece I wrote. Inspired from Anne Briggs and her folk renditions.
*************************************************************************************************
Arakanes/Rakhine women

O my Beloved,
My maiden from Arakan
Will you come with me?
No pearls in my belongings
but rice and salt for thee

With a house on Lushai we will dwell
And in skies and valleys we can stay
Down the river to o’er to where you are calling
But there are no boatmen today

We will make babes with skin smooth as yours
And name them you can in tongue of thine
No of my kin will ever slight you
For you are the love of mine

In the lowlands we can lay and play
And see the paddys fill
We can sing to the winter birds my love
It will be a promise still

Weep no more, it will not be long
Though one thing I would say,
To none I would lie my dear
Wait till the wedding day

**********************Photo source: Internet
*************************** 29/05/2013

There, Dear Guerrilla

A poem in ‘He Who Summoned the Magpie Robin’ by Nirjhor Barua
***************************************************************************

There, dear guerrilla
Where are you going to?
Bird calls in branches and dream,
Is what you do.

Your heartbroken mother
At the door, waiting for you.
Your daddy rotting in the swamp,
And he is waiting too.

Your sisters been looking at the sky
Prays that you are safe.
She, the slave in the enemy camp
For her you be brave.

Your Brothers are all lost
And taken in the war.
The village is all empty now,
Empty and too far.

Your son with his swollen belly
Hungry, he wants to eat the moon
Your daughters never seen her father’s face
Please, be back soon

Your dear wife is carrying another’s child,
Ravaged and left for dead
You, is whats on her mind
Not gold and not bread

There, dear friend,
In the ground you used to roam,
Your loved ones wait for you,
Will you walk or be carried home?
A Mukti Bahini fighter carries a comrade injured in the fight against the Pakistani army-
******************************************** 26/05/2013

Unusual Nothingness

An extract from He Who Summoned the Magpie Robin by Nirjhor Barua

*******************************************************************************

Nothing

In the midst of all nothingness, Kaiser Afzal walked. He insisted in being awake, trying to find the meaning of this sudden discovery of himself here. He walked not on clouds or anything, but that he walked on nothing, zero-null-void. His footsteps falling on nothing, material ground to provide an opposite force on him was absent; Newton was silently absent. If he had been in outer space, he was sure he would have floated around with the vomit from him being sick in this unusual-ness, sick-globs  slapping him in the face every now and then. Gravity was working mysteriously, yet he was not falling through into the nothingness that he did not bring upon himself, a slip and he might into the light-year long fall. After he strolled around for a bit, not being able to see nothing but black all around in his point of view, it came back to him. He had seen such dream elsewhere, some other time before. He realized: if the others were dreams, this must be too. He did not know how to pinch himself awake from this nightmare.

A melody suddenly ‘floated’ to his ear, darkness faded and was gone soon, but the light around him gave him nothing to see. The sound got slowly stronger and was clearly audible with every moment. Someone was mouthing the notes right beside his ear after a while. His counter-part, that he could not see, sang to him in rhymes, words that echoed in his brain, a hymn for no deity.

“What do we do dear? O Mother!

Give us a fair fight.

A savior and a Brother

We need him, he who, he who calls

When the devil tear the birds

O my Mother…”

 

From nothingness he came and to it he returned.

 

space

  *****************************************************************************21/04/2013

The Greeks gods and rhymes

An extract from ‘He who summoned the Magpie Robin’
*********************************************

Kaiser woke up just after his friend finished praying and went to sleep. He had dreamt again, the same dream. Again the same faces, the same butler, the mime artist and the performance. The performance was clearer this time. The sounds of the screams, the bombs, more vivid this time, more audible, more real. But something else was different. The parts were ‘Caesar’ came into being, was somehow hurried through, not given enough importance it seemed. The rhyme still fresh in his head, lurking, trying to tell him something, its ambiguity was hard to comprehend.

Count till; oh wait sir, till twenty five and three,

eenie meenie miny mo, then a killing spree.

Dead or alive, do you know,

What you’re going to be?

Screams here, heard from there,

All you do here is flee?

A person usually forgets their dreams right after they have woken up, Kaiser’s memory seemed to work differently. A lot of prophets through ages had dreamt their divine dreams. But in his case, no deity showed up with divine prophecy nor any instructions were given, only idiotic rhymes were told. Greek gods were famously known for playing tricks on man. They would place riddles as clues to heroes to aid them in the journey. He was speculating the involvement of such a Greek god or a goddess with swell breasts. It would be unwise to rule out a possibility he thought. The jealousy, anger, unpredictability, mischief and so on of the Greek gods were used to explain the unfairness in life. Maybe they were right; maybe all those gods were mean, vindictive, corrupted and down-right ‘arseholes’, needing constant reassurance from devotees by being showered with gifts and sacrifice. It could be that all the civilisations that came after them had committed heresy and had come away from divine truth. But then ‘Heresy’ was a concept ignored by the later-Ancient Greeks. So maybe that was why those gods got wiped out in the God(s) race, race of acquiring the entire world’s population. A crack in the wall can lead to the whole dam collapsing; not giving ‘heresy’ enough importance was their crack in the wall. By the time the famous carpenter came to the scene and ironically had himself nailed to a piece of wood, Olympus was already in trouble. But then again Kaiser considered the Ancient Hellenics to be more modern then the present population he lived amongst.

After much thought, he decided to start taking things seriously. These series of dreams had to stop, it was worrying him. Was he some kind of prophet or was he supposed to warn people of the danger that was to come? He thought of all the possible questions. He was scared of the psychological impact it would have on him,—if it would put his sense of reality in jeopardy, or if it one day turns him into a schizophrenic nut, spoiling all his happiness for mere two-paisa dreams that no head-or-tail could be made out of—putting his sanity on the line.

*****************************************************************************************