False Promise of New Year

I wrote the poem below today morning in my mother tongue Axomiya ( Assamese) and translated to English just now. Posting the poems in reverse order here.

Isn’t the year about to end,
Why no one has let the bird
singing merrily know;

I asked the half-bloomed rosebud
Stiffened in the winter cold,
No, no one told her,
The year is just about to end;

I asked my dog
Sitting and lookin out,
Did anyone tell him,
In a little while
The year about to turn;
He ignored me and
kept looking out,
Maybe waiting for
winter to end and
return of spring, when
He can frolick in
the cradle of nature again;

I asked nature
Are you getting ready to
Welcome the new year?
Smiled she sadly and said,
Will you listen to my pain?
I haven’t figured out a way
To protect my children from
the madness of mankind
shouting hoarse about
Global warming and
climate change;
Spare me the additional pollution
of your insanity,
The false promise of
A Happy New Year.

ভুৱা প্ৰতিশ্ৰুতি নৱবৰ্ষৰ

বছৰটো হেনো শেষ হব ওলাইছে,
কোৱা নাই কোনেও বাৰু কিয়
আনন্দেৰে গান গাই থকা চৰাইটোক;
সুধিলো শীতত ঠেৰেঙা লাগি
ফুলো ফুলো কৰি আধা ফুলা হৈ থকা
গোলাপৰ কলিটিক,
নাই, কোৱা নাই কোনেও
বছৰ বাগৰিছে বুলি গোলাপীক,
বাহিৰলৈ চাই বহি থকা মোৰ কুকুৰটোক
সুধিলো জান জানো ত‌ই
বছৰ বাগৰিব আৰু কেইটামান ঘণ্টাত;
আওকাণ কৰি মোক
চাই থাকিল সি বাহিৰলৈ
হয়তো অপেক্ষাত
কেতিয়ানো হ’ব শীতৰ অন্ত,
আহিব বসন্ত আৰু
আনন্দৰে সি কৰিব বিচৰণ
প্ৰকৃতিৰ কোলাত;
সুধিলোঁ প্ৰকৃতিক মই
হৈছানে সাজু তুমি আদৰিবলৈ
নতুন বছৰক?
প্ৰকৃতিয়ে হাঁহিলে দুখেৰে, ক’লে
শুনিবাজানো কথা মোৰ বেজাৰৰ,
ভাবি পোৱা নাই উপায় মই
ৰক্ষা কৰো কেনেক
সন্তানক মোৰ
বিশ্বব্যাপী উষ্ণতা আৰু
জলবায়ু পৰিবৰ্ত্তনক লৈ হাহাকাৰ কৰা
উন্মত্ত মানবৰ মূৰ্খামিৰ পৰা;
নালাগে মোক অতিৰিক্ত প্ৰদূষণ
তোমাৰ উন্মাদনাৰ,
ভুৱা প্ৰতিশ্ৰুতি এটা নৱবৰ্ষৰ।

Now the question is how do I say happy new year to my readers after this. The bird sang in my ear and said, yes you can in the least polluted way and my dog Skooby barked his approval with a loud woof. So here it goes my dear readers, A Very Happy New Year 2022 to You.

Raindrops: Set of Three Haikus(photo by author)

Raindrops on leaves drip,
A transient impermanence,
Expectant earth waits.

Raindrops on leaves.

Tomorrow leaves fall,
Moist earth embraces the dead,

Cherish the beauty,
Short life,lifelong memory,
In death, renewal.

I haven’t posted much on my blog for some time now. After a long forty day road trip of 9425 miles across USA, I was most probably getting lethargic. Few weeks back I started to write a long short story in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) on my Facebook wall. Well, to make a long story short, after twenty eight episodes and nearly twenty seven thousand words, I haven’t yet seen the light at the end of the tunnel and falling very far behind. To be precise, still traveling hundred and eighty years in the past. I have still a long time to catch up to the present. I took the photograph of raindrops on rose leaves yesterday morning and as I was looking at the photo today, and it’s a gorgeous sunny day today, thoughts that came to my mind were transcribed by my fingers to a set of haikus. Obviously the rust shows.

A Feeble Voice

I’m just a feeble voice
in wilderness and
am thankful that I have;
I decide to raise it,
However feeble it may be,
Maybe it will be
lost in the din, but
If every feeble voice
takes courage and
raises it,
Soon the cowards will
take notice and run,
Hope that day will come soon,
When the feeble voices
of the world,
Will rise up in unison,
For peace and justice,
For all.

Thanksgiving Day

I give thanks,
not only on this day,
But on all the days,
To be able to still
have my say and
oppose the cause
behind Thanksgiving day;
I am thankful on this day
for not being a subject
of the lands,
Where a misplaced word
may be construed as
blasphemy, and
the kings and
the queens,
( do they have any),
or all the potentates,
At the drop of a hat
can proclaim,
Off with his head, or worse,
Cut one to pieces,
Stuff in suitcases,
and fly away to their
Holy lands;
I am thankful
rather to be able to
carve my turkey in peace,
(did I say Turkey),
On this beautiful
Thanksgiving Day.

Wandering Soul in Search of the Final Destination

Where shall the travel be?
When time is right,
Revealed shall the answe be.

Arrived at what station?
An unfamiliar place,
After a long journey.

Familiarize with the unfamiliar;
In search of the infinite continuum,
This journey is just the infinitesimal dust particle on the road;

Was this the same path traversed before?
What an absurd question,
Will it address the search unknown?

The water molecule of the flowing river,
Does it return again to the same spot
once it merges in the bosom of the sea?

Does not the water molecule in the sea evaporate and
come back again as raindrop,
To the river’s bosom?

The evaporated particle of water as dew drop,
Dancing on the blade of grass,
Swept away to the river by rain;

Does that dew drop know
it traversed this same path before,
To merge into the bosom of the sea?

What is this new identity,
Know this is not permanent,
Why then is this attachment?

Move on, move on,
This wandering is eternal,
In death the address is not hidden;

Who knows when the search is answered,
Will the quest come to a culmination,
The travel of a wandering soul in search of the final destination?

**translated from a poem I wrote yesterday in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese).**

Seductive Allure of the Open Road : Forty Days on Wheels

We just came home three days ago from a cross- country road trip of forty days and nine thousand four hundred and twenty five miles. Though I had been posting a daily travelogue on my FB wall, I had not posted on my blog due to the difficulty of posting photographs on the blog from the road. As I go through the photos from our travel, I shall be posting on my blog. However, I had summarized my feelings on a poem that I wrote in my mother tongue Axomiya yesterday and translated to English today. Posting them in reverse order here for my readers.

I responded;
How to ignore
the call of
the open road;
East, west, north and south,
Races my vagabond mind
riding the chariot
of imagination;
Where are the glaciers,
Where are the flowing rivers,
Diving into the depths of
sea like lakes,
I search for the
elixir of life;
In the sun kissed
spread of the forests,
under the shadows of
high peaks of
distant mountain ranges,
Tirelessly I search for the
autumn colors;
Warns the open road
adorned with fallen leaves,
Beware, beware!
By the side of the road
on other side of the mountain
is the deepest gorge,
Don’t take your eyes
off the road,
A moment of bliss
may turn into disaster,
Proceed with caution;
City roads sparking under
the glare of neon lights,
Many a silent tears of the
wretched homeless people
they hide,
Their cries of desperation
muted by the
artificial madness of a
celebrating crowd;
Just an observer I am,
In the shrinking glaciers and
in the petrified, crystal forests
lying on the dry sands of a
painted deserts,
In the thin ribbon of a
shrunken river, lost in
the sands, in search of a sea,
I hear the distant thunder
of imminent danger;
There is no solution,
Tired is my mind,
Still though
I can not ignore,
The exhilaration
of the seductive allure of
the open road.

উন্মুক্ত পথৰ বিমোহিত আকৰ্ষণ

সহাঁৰি দিলোঁ মই,
কিদৰে কৰোঁ উপেক্ষা,
উন্মুক্ত পথৰ আহ্বান;
পূব, পশ্চিম, উত্তৰ, দক্ষিণ,
কল্পনাৰ ৰথত উঠি চেঁকুৰে
যাযাবৰী মোৰ মন।
ক’ত আছে হিমবাহ,
ক’ত আছে বোৱতী নৈ,
সাগৰ সদৃশ গহন সৰোবৰত
ডুব মাৰি অমৃতৰ
কৰোঁ সন্ধান;
কোন দূৰণিৰ পৰ্বতমালাৰ
উচ্চ শৃঙ্গৰ চত্ৰছায়াত,
ৰৌদ্ৰ ধৌত বিশাল বননিত
বিচাৰি খাওঁ হাবাথুৰি
হেমন্তৰ ৰঙীণ বৃক্ষৰাশি;
সৰাপাতৰ পুষ্পবৃষ্টিৰে আভূষিত পথে
সাৱধান, সাৱধান,
নহবা অন্যমনস্ক,
ক্ষণিকৰ আনন্দ‌ই ঘটাব বিপদ;
দাঁতিতেই আছে পাহাৰৰ
গৰা সুগভীৰ,
সুকলমে যোৱা পাৰ হৈ;
কোনো মহানগৰীৰ নিয়ন চাকিৰে
আলোকিত পথে ৰাখে লুকুৱাই
কত হতভাগা গৃহহীনৰ
নীৰৱ চকুলো,
উল্লাসিত জনতাৰ কৃত্ৰিম উন্মাদনাত
তল পৰি যায়
দুখীয়াৰ আৰ্ত্তনাদ;
দ্ৰষ্টা মাথোঁ মই,
সংকুচিত হিমবাহত আৰু
ৰঙীন মৰুভূমিৰ শুকান বালিত
শিল হৈ যোৱা স্ফটিক বৃক্ষত,
সাগৰ বিচাৰি শুষ্ক বলুকাৰ বক্ষত
হেৰাই যোৱা নদীৰ
শীৰ্ণ জলৰাশিত,
শুনো মই অশনি সংকেত
আসন্ন বিপৰ্যয়ৰ;
নাই কোনো সমিধান,
ক্লান্ত মোৰ মন,
তথাপিও নোৱাৰোঁ দেখোন,
কৰিব উপেক্ষা,
কিযে এক উন্মাদনা এই
উন্মুক্ত পথৰ বিমোহিত আকৰ্ষণ।

Chasing a dream

I chase the sunset on different shores,
Over hills and valleys
wherever it goes,
I wake up to a new sunrise
every morning in different towns,
And go to bed on
different beds every night;

Open roads call and
I surrender my will,
I go where the road leads
and meet new people,
Some are white,
some black or brown,
I say hello and they say hi,
They ask where I am from
and I say name of the town;

We exchange greetings
and share some laughs,
They don’t ask who I am
and neither do I,
They don’t ask me
my religion nor do I;

We are just people
chasing our dreams,
We meet and part
with a friendly grin,
With my sweetheart by me
we roll on,
Chasing the sunset
on different shores,
A new sunrise waits
for the morning,
Tomorrow the open road
leads me home.

On a road trip across USA for last thirty five days and homeward bound now. Hopefully in a week.

From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

[I wrote this poem over a span of one month. As the poem is long , I shall post it in parts every Friday. It’s a poem about love but some may find the content semi-erotic. Lest their finer senses be disturbed, be aware and proceed at your own risk.]

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

Link to the previous part : https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4mL

Part IV (continued):

Oh shame,
caught in the act!
She opened her eyes full and
from the unfathomable depth

Of her eyes,
She gazed straight into my heart;
She smiled.
Those lips,
Now full and plump with desire,

Set of pearl necklace opened and
tip of her tongue gently kissed
her upper lip;
Supporting herself on her elbows,
She raised herself from the meadows and
whispered softly,
My love,
What you see,
Are you satisfied?
Have you ever heard a goddess speak?
Speechless was I.

[December 7, 2020]

As I sat there mesmerized,
Her eyes twinkling,
As if bemused,
She took her feet away from my lap,
Sat upright and crossed her legs,
Took my hands gently on hers,
Looked me in the eyes
and softly asked again,
My love,
satisfied are you

with what you view?
In amazement
I could only nod my head,

My heart about to burst
out of my chest,
It must have been beating

so fast and loud,
Anyone could have heard it

from miles around;
Oblivious to my racing heart,

She took my hand and
put them in her chest,
And whispered,
How my heart beats for you;
I swooned.

[December 8, 2020]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

I am on a long road trip at present. Drove nearly 4500 miles from San Jose, California to Albany, New York visiting national parks, monument s and the five great lakes in eighteen days.

Elixir of Life

Blessed are those who
never fought
with their love,
They don’t know
What they lost;

Wretched are those who
let their ego
get to their heads,
They don’t know
what they are
about to lose;

Sweetness of love,
Spiced with bitterness of
truth sometimes,
A few road bumps
on the smooth asphalt
of life,
A wine smooth enough,
Neither too sweet,
Nor too dry,
Is the elixir of life

From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

[I wrote this poem over a span of one month. As the poem is long , I shall post it in parts every Friday. It’s a poem about love but some may find the content semi-erotic. Lest their finer senses be disturbed, be aware and proceed at your own risk.]

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

Link to the previous part : https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4mH

Part IV:

Have you ever seen the goddess of love
Opening the gates of her temple wide,
And lying there in all her divine beauty,

To be worshipped?
Nature had sculpted her with all its skill,

What heavens had bestowed,
Nothing earthly could surpass,
And there she was,

The meadows blessed with her touch,
Languidly lying,

Doe eyed beauty’s eyes half closed,
As if in a trance,

Breathing soft and steady,
A half smile spreading across her lips

from time to time,
Setting sun rays, catching her radiating desire
calmed by happiness,
Painted her nubile body a golden hue,
And I just sat there,
Absolutely mesmerized

The meadows were silent
except for the music of her breath,
An engine loud

was going full blast in my chest,
No coolant in the world was

good enough to cool me down,
With every breath that she took,
Her chest did move,
With her every rise and fall,
Rushed through my body

the inferno of hell,
Quite oblivious to my state,
She gently opened and closed her legs,
And I lost the keys to my mental resolve;
As the doors to heaven
gently opened and closed,
To calm myself,
I clasped her slender feet tight on my lap,
And Venus opened her eyes

[December 7, 2020]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

I am on a long road trip at present. Drove nearly 3500 miles from San Jose, California to Munising, Michigan via three national parks and a national monument in twelve days. Hopefully in next few days see the five great lakes.


Everything and Nothing. And then some words.

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