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।

Why I Write

Many a times this question is asked why one writes. I was asked this question and I gave some answer or tried avoiding to answer. Couple of days back while I was having my morning coffee, the answer came to my mind as a poem that I jotted down. Is that the answer? Honestly, I don’t know. However, each and every word in the poem is true.

I forget the world
when I write,
I do not even know
what I write,
Only thing I know,
no, I feel,
there is a light
that shines,
and shows me the way,
the fingers move,
they are mine,
but they are not,
I do not have
any control,
I know not
the words that
come out,
Know not what
they mean,
I feel as if
my soul leaves me,
light and feathery,
it takes flight,
and when all is done,
I am back,
and I am me,
atleast what I
think is me,
there is such
an exhilaration
in writing,
I feel I die
and come back to
earth again.

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