The Weeping Sky

In the dark,

The sky wept for five days in a row

to leave a mark.

A mark of its melancholy and sorrow,

on this scorched earth, and there was no single soul

to witness its misery, So I

Walked and I walked.

 

On my skin,

I felt the first drop of the rain

pouring down in the silence.

I think I was a little bit distracted at that moment,

lost in the noiseless tranquility and ecstasy.

And when my sentience returned, I witnessed

the colorless, odorless rain turn into the color of human blood-

A warm, burning crimson red.

Maybe its intention was to give new life to the dead.

 

Then looking down at me from far above,

The weeping sky asked:

“How do you sate the thirst,

of your unending bloodlust?”

 

I did not know the answer, and thus

I asked the sky, “Why do you cry?

And watch our innocence die?

Have you nothing better to give the universe?”

 

Then I took shelter from the rain and shut all the windows

in hatred and disgust.

We walked our separate path.

The Room

Stuck in my dusty room,

With no rush to clean up the mess.

Year old dust particles make their home,

Safe and sound,

On each corner, the table, the wardrobe, the computer desk.

And I guess they also get under my skin, into my lungs, and my head.

 
 

If you come and look around, you’ll nod and say,

“Yup, this is a complete mess!

Why do you need that for? Those useless pieces of paper

That rusty pin, that cable, that ribbon.

Those broken toys

Throw ’em away! Throw it all away!

Only keep the things you need. “

And yes, I do think that’s the right thing to do, indeed.

 
 

But how can I throw it all away?

Wash away all my old things, the tiny little objects

And all those memories that relate to them.

The memories that kindle all my surreal dreams and nightmares?

 
 

I don’t think I can.

Yet, with all the hatred, sorrow and guilt in my hands.

I pray, I wish for a quick, clean escape from this materialistic world.

All these objects, mere physics, sewn with particles by particles.

All our emotions, thoughts & feelings are nothing but chemistry.

 
 

I just wish that all of these would vanish,

And the sky would turn a calm, soothing paper-white.

 

I will bask in that eternal whiteness.

সময় সংকোচন

কেউ যখন অবাক দৃষ্টিতে তাকিয়ে দুপাশে মাথা নেড়ে তোমাকে বলে

অনেক বড় হয়ে যাচ্ছো তুমি, কিন্তু এখনো নেই কোন সময়জ্ঞান!

খাওয়া, ঘুম, জৈবিক যত কাজ শেষে হয়তোবা কোন বইয়ের

শ-দুয়েক পাতা নেড়েচেড়ে দেখা; অথবা টিভি খুলে কিছু বিনোদন

কিছু নাটক, সিনেমা, টকশো, অথবা

চটপটে ডিজিটাল তরুণ সমাজের মত রাত-দিন অনলাইনে সময় পার

কিছু চটকদার শব্দ দিয়ে মারামারি-কাটাকাটি-আহাজারি, কিছু অলীক জীবনদর্শন

কিন্তু সব ছাপিয়ে অবশ্যই কাছে থাকতে হবে আমাদের, সমগ্র পৃথিবীর কাছে

প্রমাণ করতে হবে আমরা কতটা সুখি, পরস্পরকে শব্দ-ছবির স্ফটিকদর্পনে আলিঙ্গন

মস্তিষ্কের সকল সুখানুভূতি জাগিয়েই সকল প্রশান্তি, ঘড়ির কাঁটা হেঁটে চলে টিকটিক

বস্তুত: এসবই তোমার নিজেকে না খুঁজে দেখার তীব্র বাসনা, কালের স্রোতে

জীবনতরী ভাসিয়ে; অসম্পূর্ণ, অগোছালো একটি কাব্যের মত

প্রতি সেকেন্ড, মিনিট, ঘন্টা, দিনের পর দিন, এরপর মাস, বছর, এক যুগ, আজীবন

জীবনের যত আকাঙ্খা, যত অতীত-বর্তমান-ভবিষ্যত বন্দনা

সবকিছু ছাপিয়ে যুদ্ধবিদ্ধস্ত উদ্বাস্তু এক জনস্রোতের মত

প্রতিমূহুর্ত, প্রতিনিয়ত আমাদের এই উদাসীন সময় সংকোচন।।

A Timeless Tale

There was a time in the transcendent past

When we were happy, we were young.

We used to laugh and play along,

And let the moments fly by

Near the lake, beneath the sky, on the greenest grass.

And the birds soaring through the breeze up high

They used to watch over and protect us.

 

Then one day I closed my eyes,

Recklessly, I let years after years pass by,

Shutting all the gates in my mind to the outer universe,

Living in my own world, building my own dreams,

Where no one had a passcode to enter, but me.

And when I woke up again, nothing felt the same.

 

The sun just shines brighter every day.

Sun rays shred through my skin,

I scream,

But no one seems to hear what I say.

 

Lunar flares distort my barren face.

Tears gush through my eyes, while the stellar light

Ignites my tears, and colors the pitch-dark sky

To a glorious, infernal blood red.

 

Blinded, wretched & shattered, I could no longer see

The remaining glances of hope, what the future holds before me.

 

Yet, it still rains, the fog still covers the sterile ground.

When the rain pours on my skin, it heals my wounds.

Hidden in the mystical fog, I can hear a new tune

Which speaks of unrevealed mysteries and wonders,

Which asks me to stay strong and keep moving on.

And it’s not that different from our old song.

 

And thus, if you hear it too, forget all your worries,

And wake up to a brighter day.

Paint your universe with the colors of a newborn sun.

And maybe one day, I’ll follow on your trails,

I’ll tune in to the same song.

Just like we used to when we were young.

And then, time will not be able to tear us apart anymore.

 

You and I, we will be timeless.

“Feminism” Redefined

“Feminism”- a term we are so fond of uttering these days. A term which “smart” women use to outsmart the world and solve all their problems, but do we ever give a clear thought to what it actually means to be a feminist?

Feminism does not mean that women are the superior species and all the men belong under their feet. Feminism does not mean that women have free rights to emotionally abuse and humiliate a broken soul and feel good about it. It does not mean that women don’t have to work hard to get what they deserve and everything they want will just fall on their laps whenever they want, however they want it. No, it means exactly the opposite of all that.

Feminism means being a strong enough woman to support your family and your loved ones in their difficult times, whether emotionally or financially. It means being strong enough to tell the world that a woman must be treated and respected as a human being, that they are not merely an object of display or desire. It means for a woman to be strong enough to make her own decisions in life, instead of relying on others “opinions”, and refusing to shape her life by listening to what other people or what the “society” say. Overall, it simply means being a strong, knowledgeable and independent woman, whom anybody can rely on, men and women alike, to lead them to prosperity and ease their difficulties.

And thus, my dear female counterparts of the human species, if you use the word “feminism” as a term to patronize others instead of a motto to improve your own self, then you are not really a feminist. You are just a parasite which sucks on others’ blood, which does not have any ambition of it’s own, and your only mission in life is to leave the “food source” dry after you are done with the feeding.

P.S. This is my personal blog and I just share my own thoughts here, they may or may not be identical to the reader’s point of view.

P.P.S. I think some of the characteristics described above are common within all the parasites in the world, regardless of their gender.

The Dreaded Nights

As you open your weary eyes,

With the welcoming sunrise,

As daylight shines on your face,

You wake up, and begin a new story,

Paint your hopes, write all your glory,

Upon the vast canvas

Of the world’s blissful glaze.

     
 

A new shade of colors each day,

New jargons, new rhymes and new songs

To fill up the void of the restless hours,

Too desperate to wash the old away.

     
 

As the days decay, and your dearest sun

Spreads its warmth all over the horizon,

You rest your head on earth’s slender lap

And sleep, till all your leftover memories

Wash away, as you let your dreams run

     
 

Again and again, in the dreaded nights,

While your stories rely on the daylight,

And at each day’s end, they evaporate

Into thin air, they go down with the sun.

     
 

I stand up high, I arise in those nights

With my eternal moonlight.

I walk hand in hand with the darkness,

Till the nights and I, become one.

Inorganic Emotions

I walk across an ocean full of faces

An animate human body, submerged in its soul

I watch the faces laugh, sing and play

Exultant emotions, which I feel no more.

 

Alone and careless, I keep on walking

Drowned in my demented, bewildering thoughts; they

Do not synchronize with your songs, they remain unaware

Of the blinding light of day.

 

And you wonder, your unspoken whispers

Deflect on the walls of my inner ear

Inside your tiny, incapable skulls you wonder,

Something’s terribly wrong, we must resolve this

 
 

We have to find a home for that lost soul

Before it’s too late, Before all that light

Succumbs to the ever-devouring darkness

There must be a solution, we must find a cure!

 

But what else do you expect from one

Wearing seclusion, an attire?

Walking a path, so alienated and dark

An abandoned trail that every living varmint fears.

 

Thus, suffer as much as you are hurt.

Hate, only as much as you can hate.

But, when you love, love with all your heart,

And leave the rest to fate.