Sanity in a World Gone Mad

I have been writing sporadically during last year or so and have been absent from my blog for long time at a stretch. Hopefully in a few months things start to be normal, whatever the new normal means. After a long time I translated a poem that I wrote yesterday to my mother tongue Axomiya (অসমীয়া / Assamese), Bengali and Hindi. I have no formal training in Bengali or Hindi and I do feel that I am getting rusty. I only wish that the poem was more uplifting. Oh well, maybe it is the sign of the times. I post the poem and the translations in the order written.

Sanity in a World Gone Mad

Soothed by faith,
Lulled into submission,
Mortgaged my brain
and I followed,
This path leads to
the sacrificial altar,
Blind followers
to be ordained,
And the blood of
meeks shall flow.

For a dollop of peace,
For promise of security,
I sold my heart;
To stop the incessant shrieks
of an wounded heart
ringing in my ears,
I cut open my heart,
and let it bleed;
A call for action subdued,
I followed,
An easy path
that leads to the gallows;
I sacrificed my humanity.

Don’t ask for your rights,
Lest you be labeled
a mental case,
Don’t ever dare to question,
Lest you be called
a traitor,
Sword of faith, or
Guillotine of nationalism,
Dangles over your head,
Off with yours,
The blind followers chant.

Dare not look for one,
To lead you from
darkness to light,
For one who comes
from amongst you
shall ask for sacrifice
that you are not
ready to make;
For you have already
mortgaged your brain,
bartered your heart,
To the merchants who promised,
Peace, prosperity and security,
For blind faith;
And delivered death.

I met the mad man
sitting alone in the street corner,
I extended my hand and assured,
I shall take him to the healers
and he shall be
sane again;
Our eyes met in silence,
Mockingly his asked,
Caged in a world gone mad,
You are promising insanity
to one who is sane?
Are you God,
Or his broker?

এখন পাগল পৃথিৱীত মানসিক সুস্থতা

ধৰ্ম-বিশ্বাসৰ সান্ত্বনাৰ
নিচুকণিত বশ গৈ,
বিবেকক থৈ বন্ধকত,
অনুগামী হ’লো;
এই পথে লৈ যাব
বলিশালৰ বেদীলৈ
য’ত অন্ধ ভক্ত সকলৰ
হ’ব অভিষেক,
আৰু হ’ব
বিনীত জনৰ ৰক্তপাত।

এটুপি শান্তিৰ বাবে,
সুৰক্ষাৰ প্ৰতিশ্ৰুতিৰ বিনিময়ত,
বেচি দিলোঁ মোৰ অন্তৰখন;
মোৰ ক্ষত-বিক্ষত হৃদয়ত
অহৰহ বাজি থকা চিঞৰে
অতিষ্ঠ কৰা মোৰ কৰ্ণ কুহৰৰ
অবিৰত শব্দ ৰুধিবলৈ,
কাটি পেলালো কলিজা মোৰ,
বৈ যাব দিলোঁ কলিজাৰ তেজ;
ক্ৰান্তিৰ আহ্বান কৰি দমন,
অনুগামী হ’লো ম‌ই,
সহজ পথৰ কৰিলোঁ অনুসৰণ
ফাঁচিকাঠৰ অভিমুখে;
মানৱতাৰ মোৰ কৰিলোঁ বলিদান।

হ’ব যদি খোজা নাই অভিহিত
মানসিক ৰোগগ্ৰস্ত বুলি,
নুখুজিবা প্ৰাপ্য তোমাৰ;
নকৰিবা প্ৰয়াস কৰিবলৈ প্ৰশ্ন,
নহ’লে জানোচা হোৱা পৰিচিত
দেশদ্ৰোহী বুলি;
ধৰ্মৰ তৰোৱালখন নাইবা
দেশপ্ৰেমৰ গিলোটিন,
আছে ওলমি তোমাৰ শিৰৰ ওপৰত,
শিৰচ্ছেদ, শিৰচ্ছেদ,
গৰ্জে অন্ধ ভক্তগণ।

নিবিচাৰিবা এনে এজন,
তিমিৰৰ পৰা আলোকলৈ
যিজনে কৰিব পাৰে দিকদৰ্শন,
আহিব যিজন ওলাই
জনতাৰ মাজৰ পৰা,
বিচাৰিব স্বাৰ্থ বলিদান,
অপাৰগ তোমালোক কৰিবলৈ ত্যাগ;
কিয়নো ৰাখিছা বন্ধকত
বিবেক তোমালোকৰ,
হৃদয়ক কৰিছা বিক্ৰী
বণিকৰ ওচৰত, যিয়ে
অন্ধ ভক্তিৰ বিনিময়ত দিয়ে
শান্তি, সমৃদ্ধি, সুৰক্ষাৰ প্ৰতিশ্ৰুতি,
আৰু মৃত্যুৰ কৰে বিতৰণ।

আলিবাটৰ দাতিত
বহি থকা পগলাজনক
পাইছিলো লগ মই ,
আগবঢ়াই সাহায্যৰ হাত
দিলোঁ আশ্বাস,
লৈ যাম তেওঁক ম‌ই
বৈদ্যৰ ওচৰলৈ,
নিৰাময় হ’ব তেওঁ, হ’ব সুস্থ;
নিৰৱে মিলন হ’ল চকুৰ আমাৰ,
উপলুঙাৰ দৃষ্টিৰে কৰিলে প্ৰশ্ন,
পগলা হৈ যোৱা পৃথিৱীত
পিঞ্জৰাবদ্ধ তুমি,
মানসিক বিকাৰৰ প্ৰতিশ্ৰুতি
আহিছা দিবলৈ সুস্থ মানৱক?
তুমি ভগবান, নে
তেওঁৰ দালাল?

এক পাগল পৃথিবীতে মানসিক সুস্থতা

ধর্ম-বিশ্বাসের আশ্বাসনে
নতি স্বীকার করে পরলাম ঘুমিয়ে,
মস্তিষ্ক বন্ধকী রেখে
হলাম অনুগামী,
এই পথ নিয়ে যাবে
কোরবানির বেদিতে,
যেখানে অন্ধ ভক্তগণের
হবে অভিষেক,
এবং প্রবাহিত হবে রক্ত
বিনম্র জনের।

একটুখানি শান্তির জন্যে,
সুরক্ষার প্রতিশ্রুতির বিনিময়ে,
বেচে দিলাম চিত্ত আমার;
আমার ক্ষত-বিক্ষত চিত্তের
অহরহ চিৎকারে
অতীষ্ঠ হয়ে উঠা কর্ণপটহের
অবিরত শব্দ করতে অবরুদ্ধ,
কেটে ফেললাম হৃদয় আমার,
বয়ে যাক রক্ত হৃদয়ের;
ক্ৰান্তির ডাক করিয়া দমন,
অনুগামী হয়ে করেছি অনুসরণ
সহজ পথের,
যে পথ নিয়ে যায়
ফাঁসির দিকে;
মানবতার আমার দিয়েছি কোরবানি।

চাওনা যদি ডাকে কেও তোমাকে
পাগল বলে,
করোনা দাবি অধিকার তোমার;
হতে যদি চাওনা অভিহিত
দেশদ্রোহী বলে,
করোনা সাহস প্রশ্ন করতে;
ধর্মের তরোয়াল বা
জাতীয়তাবাদের গিলোটিন,
ঝুলছে তোমার মাথার উপর,
কেটে ফেলো মাথা, কেটে ফেলো মাথা,
গর্জায় অন্ধ ভক্তগণ।

করোনা সাহস খুঁজতে এমন জনের
দেখাবে যে পথ তোমাদের
অন্ধকার থেকে আলোয়,
আসবে যে তার জন্য
তোমাদের মাঝ থেকে,
কোরবানী চাইবে সে,
প্রস্তুত নয় তোমরা
স্বীকার করতে ত্যাগ;
তোমাদের তো আছে ইতিমধ্যে
মস্তিষ্ক বন্ধকী,
চিত্ত করেছো বিক্রি,
বণিকদের কাছে,
অন্ধ বিশ্বাসের বিনিময়ে যারা
দিয়েছিলো প্রতিশ্রুতি
শান্তি, সমৃদ্ধি এবং সুরক্ষার;
এবং মৃত্যু করেছেন দান।

রাস্তার কোণে একা বসে থাকা
এক পাগলের সাথে
হয়েছিল দেখা আমার,
হাত বাড়িয়ে দিয়েছিলাম আশ্বাস,
নিয়ে যাব তাকে আমি
বৈদ্যের কাছে,
এবং সে হবে নিরাময়,
আবার সুস্থ;
চোখাচোখি হলো নীরবে আমাদের,
চোখে যেন একটু তার
জিজ্ঞাসা বিদ্রুপের,
পাগল হয়ে গেছে এমন এক পৃথিবীতে
খাঁচাবন্দি তুমি,
দিচ্ছো প্রতিশ্রুতি পাগল হওয়ার
এক সুস্থ মানুষ কে?
তুমি কি ঈশ্বর,
না দালাল ঈশ্বরের?

पागल दुनिया में अक्लमंदी

धर्म विश्वास से आश्वस्त
वशीभूत शान्त,
गिरवी रख दी दिमाग,
और हो गई अनुयायी;
ले जाता है यह मार्ग
कुर्बानी के वेदी की ओर,
अंध भक्तो को होगा दीक्षा,
और बिनम्र जनता के
बहेगा खून।

थोड़ी सी शांति के लिए,
सुरक्षा के वादे के बदले में,
बेच दी दिल अपना;
अवरुद्ध करने के लिए
मेरे जख्मी दिल का
निरंतर चीख,
असहनीय वे आवाज
हर वक्त में‌रे कानों में,
मैंने अपनी दिल की
कोटल कर दि,
बहने दिया लहु को;
अनुयायि हो गया
एक सहज मार्ग का,
ले जा रहा है रास्ता यह
फांसी के और;
मैंने अपनी मानवता को
दिया कुर्बानी।

अगर चाहते नहीं
कोई कहे तुम्हें पागल,
दावा न करो
अपने अधिकारों का;
यदि चाहते नहीं
देशद्रोही कहें तुम्हे कोई,
हिम्मत ना करो
सवाल करने की;
धर्म की तलवार या
राष्ट्रवाद की गिलोटिन,
लटके हुए है
सिर पर तुम्हारे;
काट दो सिर, सिर काट दो,
दहाड़ते अंधे भक्त।

करो ना हिम्मत तलाश की,
कोई जो मार्ग दिखाते हैं
अंधकार से प्रकाश की ओर,
जनता के बीच से आयेगा जो
उसका लिए,
मांगेगा कुर्बानी वह,
तैयार नहीं हैं कोई
करने को स्वार्थ त्याग;
गिरवी है दिमाग पहले से,
बेच दिए हो दिल
उस बनियों को, जो
अंधभक्ति के बदले में
किया वादा
शांति, समृद्धि और सुरक्षा के;
और दिया मृत्यु के बरदान।

मिले एक पागल से,
अकेले बैठा हुआ
गली के कोने में,
बढ़ाया हाथ अपना,
दिया आश्वासन,
ले जाऊंगा मैं उसे
वैद्य की पास,
सब कुछ होगा सही-सलामत,
और वह फिर से स्वस्थ;
खामोशी में मिले आंखें हमारे,
कुछ उपहास सा था उसके
नज़रों के सवालों में,
कैदी हो तुम एक
पागल दुनिया की,
और करते हो वादा
पागलपन की उसे,
जो अक्लमंद हो?
भगवान हो तुम?
या उसका दलाल?

Betrayal

O’ ye in the wild,
Is it wise
For the wild
To trust human,
And be deceived
By his treachery?
Alas, in that faith
Is written
Its doom,
For sure
As the sun rises
In the east,
Betrayal will follow soon.

Beware ye all,
The denizen of the wild,
On the altar of progress,
Humans have sacrificed
Their future,
And in the rush
To escape the confines
Of their only home
They have known,
Everything that stand
In their path of greed
Are collateral damage.

Happily they march
To their oblivion,
These masters of none,
And in their ignorance,
Destroy the only heaven
They have ever known.

Red is the color of blood

Four preachers came to the square today,
With followers in tow and scriptures in hands,
They came to spread the message of peace
Preaching peace but hearts full with venomous hate.

With unwavering faith in their scriptures and in supremacy of their creators,
They spoke of harmony but stuck to their own studied faiths,
The city was burning fueled by division, its citizens at risk,
Blind followers’ rants heat up the atmosphere, citizens afraid.

Suddenly what went wrong no one knew, chaos ensued,
Amid pushing and shoving, fisticuffs and stabbings, mayhem reigned,
When the preachers were thrown to the ground, no one saw,
Crushed under the feet of the crowd, they cried out for help, as the stampede grew. 

Nurtured back to health with expert treatment and needed blood transfusion,
The preachers prayed to the Lords of their faiths in humble submissions,
Taking the name of their creators constantly, they offered their salutations,
Praising the physicians for their dedication, inquired about those who gave them life with blood donations.

Humbly replied the doctors, serving humanity without division is our religion,
Neither Christians nor Jews, nor Hindus nor Muslims here,
Knew not who donated blood, nor whose blood flow in veins of yours,
Black, white or brown, American, African, Asian or Mexican, unknown were the donors.

Only one thing is certain, an absolute truth, blood has no religion,
The blood that flows in your veins, same flows in everyone’s, that you also know.
It’s neither white nor brown nor black,
Red is the only color of blood.

Resurrection 2020

A short poem for Easter, of faith and belief in renewal.

Rejoice ye of little faith,
End of the crisis may be near, with
Spring in the air and sun coming out from
Under the clouds,
Renewal is near though misgivings may
Rear its ugly head, let’s not
Entertain negative thoughts
Clouding our judgement,
Terrifying though the current situation is,
In time this will also pass, have faith and
Onward march,
Never say die.
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Photos are by author.

Peace be on you

I am neither lost
Nor seeking
Neither I lack faith
Nor indoctrinated
Atheist I am not
Nor a believer
In a world gone mad
Everyone preaching
My way or highway
Who is to judge
Wrong or right 
I shall let you
Have your say
Will keep my
Opinion to myself
Lest I make a
Fool of me
Opening my mouth
Peace be on you
I have found mine

She wants to live

The idea that germinated as a short story became a poem because of my inability to sit still for a long time to write a story. While the words just flow for a poem, I stumble in writing a story. I realized the poem became long. My apologies.

Her name is not important, a Jane Doe will do
At times she was called by various names
Sweetie pie, princes, baby, love, and whore, Continue reading “She wants to live”

Skooby’s Call : RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge # 204 Home & Free

This post is in response to Ronovan’s Weekly Haiku Challenge .

Also in recognition of Ronovan’s warning ( or disclaimer ) ” , this post is neither about religion or any political issue

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His blind faith on us
Little did he know our choice
Nine rewarding years


We picked up Skooby about nine years back from Humane Society. He definitely was our choice as we saw his photo while researching for a dog.  When we went to see him first, he did not show any interest towards us at all and the lady volunteer who was looking after Skooby told us that he may not be a good fit and we should look for some more.  As we came out of the room and went to another rook to look at some other dogs, we realized that our daughter ( eleven at that time) was not with us. We went back to the other room and saw that she was sitting on the ground in front of Skooby’s crate and cuddling his feet and snout that he had out through the bars of the crate door.  Well, as people say, the rest is history and our bundle of joy is still with us all these years.  As the kids grew up and moved out to college, he is our happy companion keeping us away from empty nester syndrome.

Faith, Creation and Creator

Rose is a rose
By any other name
Creator, not sanctioned by
One’s own faith
Why is not the same

Losing our faith
We stopped seeking
Finding solace in miracles
Allowing us to be fooled
By afterlife’s dreams

Lured by promise
Of redeeming our souls
Of a heaven unseen
We sold ourselves
Committing the original sin

Peddlers of faith
Conquered and plundered
In the name of the creator
Rained unspeakable destruction
Offer us salvation

Where did we go wrong
We all of different faith
Enjoy the same creation
But with daggers drawn
Defend our creator’s name

Manipulated by the unscrupulous
Mortgaging our brains
We dance, celebrating division
In our creator’s name
Who says creator not the same

Game of Love

The game of love

Is not what you think

Takes two to tango

Just one to break up

A spring of dreams

Laid barren by

Midsummer’s sun

Sent to cold storage

Deep Winter’s snow

Yesterday’s rose petals

Withered and blown away

The game of love

Flourishes watered by

Faith and hope

Patience and desire

Compromise makes it bloom

The game of love

Not for the faint hearted

Commitment keeps it alive

Weathering storms of doubt

The game of love

Rich pleasure

For those

Willing for

A slow waltz

Fistful of Stars Covered by Dark Clouds : Collection of Five Short Poems

Wrote this collection of five short poems first in my mother tongue, Axomiya(Assamese), couple of weeks back.  Translated these to English today with the Axomiya version following.  The first poem, titled If Death be a Lover was posted on my blog on March 16, 2018.

If death be a lover
And grants only one wish
Will make death promise
To embrace and take me whole

Continue reading “Fistful of Stars Covered by Dark Clouds : Collection of Five Short Poems”

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