Thursday, October 11, 2012

সৃষ্টি তত্ত্ব

কুয়াশাছন্ন চৈত্র মাস, মকর সংক্রান্তি,
স্নানরতা রাধাচূড়া, হ্যালোজেন আলোয়ে ৷
শুধু শুনি খট-খট, আর দুটি সর্পিল
কৃষ্ণসার সিং মধুর আলিঙ্গনে ৷
ক্রমে জন্ম ডি-এন-এ ডবল হেলিক্স ।
ছুটেছে নক্ষত্র মৃগ, পিছনে শিকারী,
উপবৃত্ত কক্ষপথে আদি অন্তহীন ।
আধো ছায়াপথ হতে দেখে বিশ্বরূপ । 

Saturday, June 2, 2012

নিশাচর


তার  সাথে  দেখা, মেঘের  উপর।
সাদা  তুলোর  লেপের  তলায়ে ,
পৃথিবী  তখন  দিবানিদ্রা  মগ্ন।
উপরে  নিশব্দে রোমাঞ্চের  উন্মোচন

বিকলের সোনালী রোদ তুলে ধরি ,
আলোকিত স্বপ্নময় অলীক মুখশ্রী 
সে  নিশ্পৃহে  ছড়িয়ে দেই  তার 
চোখের  কালো, নীল আকাশের  বুকে

আধ  অন্ধকার , আদিম  ঘুন 
কাটছে  ঘিলুর  ভেতর  কিটির  কিটির   
ঘুম  নাই , একা  জেগে , মেঘ  হীন 
কালো  আকাশ  মেশে  আমার  চোখের জলে 

Saturday, April 28, 2012

The sun soaked sofa


(1)
It had been one long winter train ride.
The sun soaked side of the sofa,
the side I preferred, waited for me
with hesitant anticipation, like a newlywed bride.
It had waited for me in the same place,
just as warm, for as long as I can remember.
As I let my cold body sink into her warm embrace,
there he was, with his nebulaic green eyes,
separated from his kans grass tail by a patch of darkness.
He had nimbly pardoned my absence,
after all, I had returned to serve his thinned milk.
I stretched to grab him and cuddle him perhaps,
but he knew my arm's length all too well,
for I could feel only his moist nose on my fingertips,
an essence of his being. No more, no less.
He glanced occasionally towards the kitchen door,
indicating where my redemption lay.
With the slightest twitching of my muscle,
he would spring towards it, returning,
every time, with exalted expectation.
And when I would finally let him in, his dark felt would
spread onto his eyes, under the dim kitchen light.
His tongue, rough yet loving, like a mother's hand,
cleaned that old milk saucer, the one I had summarily rejected.
A few drops on his beard, he would surely miss,
walk out, without the slightest appreciation,
and then encroach the sun soaked side of the sofa,
exhibiting his white underbelly in a show of contortion.
Once fast asleep, in his fishy dreams,
I would reoccupy my cozy nook.

(2)
I waited for the sun to hit the side I preferred,
I waited all day, I waited all winter. It never did.
I sank into the cold embrace of the sofa,
thinking of the bright little sun, that would curl up
on the 'sun soaked side of the sofa', everyday.
Warming it up for the cold man who served him thinned milk,
without the slightest expectation, save my safe return.
I still wait for him, with a saucer of warm milk
and his sun soaked side of the sofa.



The muse and the author connecting.

A glimpse of gloom




We still secretly hold hands,
like entwined roots underneath
thousand miles of detached earth.
Dreams run down our eyes,
seeking solace under well dressed pillows,
soggy with love laden talk.
I watched as the clouds that once
filled our pillow, effortlessly broke off
into two, leaving only darkness within.
But in rain, our roots embraced
lest the loose loam crumbled.
It never did and we never fell.
Only glanced at each other,
through the darkness that concealed all.
All but us, not you, not me.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

ঘর ছাড়া

ঘরে আমরা দুইটি প্রাণ, 
একজন বেরোলে অন্যজন শুধু অপেক্ষা করি।
ইছে আছে, একদিন দুজনে একসাথে বেরোবো...
আর ফিরব না ।

Monday, January 23, 2012

Slithering Dreams

She knows I can never be,
the man in dream she often sees.
Her touch, like tattered gloves in rain:
Warm but wanting, yearn in vain. 
Her nails like crescent moon at night.
She savors on the darker side.
Ploughing through my thick dark thews,
a skin deep scar with crimson hues.
Light trickle down my endless pores,
hairs dancing to her overtures.
Whispers, rustling like a rattle snake;
in cold blood, venom, she injects.
She knows who I often see,
dreaming of someone but me.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Dichotomy

I stand with one foot in an abyss,
toes pedicured by dangling anglers.
And the other on a mountain,
basking in crimson lava.

My fingers desperately wander,
over frigid extremities, benumbed.
I hold the earth from spinning
and then give up, pricked by it's axis.

As I raise my head over the horizon,
dark clouds appear and languidly disappear
breaking the melancholic monotony of blue.
Mizzling with eyes clenched.

The rest? I know little about,
hides and runs in spaces confined ,
hoping, that perhaps someday,
stars realign, abjuring the eternal hunt.