Lady of the Night: Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge #161 Painted & Lady

Vibrant butterfly
Nature’s dainty painting shines
She will be lady

*****
Lady in waiting
Men’s loathsome  lust kill her dreams
Painted the town red

*****
Darkness now reigns her life
Painted face hides scars of lust
Lady of the night


Ronovan’s weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge : Painted & Lady

 

Bunch of Faded Pictures Lost in Abyss of Memory পাহৰণিৰ গৰ্ভত হেৰাই যোৱা এমুঠি মলিন ছবি

I have been rather sporadic in posting to my blog for some time now.  It’s not writer’s ‘block that prevented me from writing. Rather it was some kind of strange mental fatigue. After sitting in front of the computer for 10 hours a day at work, do not have much stamina left to come and sit in front of the computer again at home.  I downloaded  Wordpress app recently to my mobile, but I am not much impressed with it.  I find it more difficult to write and post using the app in my mobile then using the website.  Wordpress website in my mobile was behaving funky for sometime now, not showing the comments.  Not sure what the issue is or if it is my issue only.  Not being able to use my mobile to post definitely put a dent on my regular posting.  Well, there is my excuse.

Wrote the poem below in my mother tongue, Assamese (Axomiya) couple of days back and translated to English today. Some feelings get lost in translation though. Here it is, in Assamese first followed by the English translation.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

পাহৰণিৰ গৰ্ভত হেৰাই যোৱা এমুঠি মলিন ছবি

দেৱাল খন বহুদিনৰ পৰাই উকা
ফটো বন্ধাই দেৱালত ওলোমাই থোৱাৰ
অভ্যাস নোহোৱা হল
আধুনিক যুগত নিমিষতে
সাত সাগৰ পাৰ হৈ
ফটো ভ্ৰাম্যভাসৰ ভিতৰত
কিন্তু স্মৃতি খন্তেকীয়া
আঙুলিৰ পৰশত মছি যায়
ক্ষণিকৰ অতিথি
এলবামৰ ভিতৰত মৰহি যোৱা
ফটো অস্পষ্ট
বয়সে আমনি কৰা চকুৱে
উকা বেৰত বিচাৰে
পাহৰণিৰ গৰ্ভত হেৰাই যোৱা
এমুঠি মলিন ছবি
মৃত্যুৰ হাতত পৰাজিত মানৱৰ
বৃথা সপোন চিৰন্জীৱী হোৱাৰ
অমৃতৰ সন্ধানত
অবিনাশী আত্মাৰ আবিস্কাৰ
অৱশ্যম্ভাৱীক মানি লোৱা কঠিন
দেৱালত ফটো ওলোমাই
স্মৃতি যুগমীয়া কৰাৰ
অলীক প্ৰচেষ্টা
মৃত্যুৰ শীতল হাতৰ পৰশত
চিৰনিদ্ৰা নহালৈকে
দেৱালখন উকা হৈ থকাই ভাল নেকি

Bunch of Faded Pictures Lost in Abyss of Memory

The wall is blank for ages now
Lost the habit of framing and hanging
Photographs on the wall
Modern technology brings
Instant attachments
From across the seven seas
To the mobile in my hand
Temporary memories
Short-lived guests are they
One gentle touch of the finger
Deletes
Photos in the old albums
Indistinct, weathered
Eyes, clouded by age
Search the blank walls for
A bunch of faded pictures
Lost in the abyss of memory
The living lost the battle with death
Long ago
Dreams of living forever shattered
Search for nectar of immortality
Futile,
Invented immortal soul
Hard for us to accept the inevitable
We try in vain
To make memories permanent
By hanging them on the walls
Till the cold hands of death
Send us to our eternal sleep
It may be for the better
For the walls to remain blank

Wake:Week Forty Three of My Fifty Two Weeks Journey with the Letter ” W”

We wake up in the morning, dreams over and it is a new day.  Unfortunately, this presidential election and its aftermath is like a bad dream that is not getting over.  We have made our bed and now we must lie on it.  We have every right to protest, but protest within the law.  We must be on guard to protect our rights, not get incited by words and deeds of the hate mongers.  We have every right to fight to change the laws that are not just.  Those who proclaim that the constitution is sacrosanct, we can remind them that the sanctity had been violated twenty seven times with twenty seven amendments.  Things change.  People make a country.  If the people so desire, then things can change.

For those who think that the president elect is the biggest calamity that could have happened, take heart.  The same constitution has limited his time in the office.  If people so desire, they have the power in their hands to change the situation in the coming elections.  This is not a wake for the funeral of democracy, rather this is a clarion call for the complacent voters to action.  Some fanatic extreme right wing fringe groups have ridden the wake of the groundswell of frustration about politics as usual. It is the duty of all of us, genuine conservatives as well as liberals to ensure that this small vocal minority does not hijack the spirit of this great country.  If we allow that to happen, then we will certainly be failing in our duty of a citizen.  We may have our disagreements, but name calling is not going to help our cause.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  Let us be thankful that we are still able to wake up to a morning full of hope compared to many others who could not even go to bed for fear of being killed by bombs or gunfire.  Let us be thankful that we have our rights for peaceful protest, let us be thankful that even though we may be down, we are not out. Let us wake up from this bad dream and celebrate Thanksgiving in the right spirit.  Towards that hope, I continue on my journey and start my poem with “Wake” for week forty three of my fifty two weeks journey with W.

Wishing a Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers.


This post is in response to Write Anything Wednesday-Nov-23-2016 sponsored by Writerish Ramblings