Heartbreak

Conditioned by heartbreaks such,
that I now look at praise askane;
if you find me aloof and distant,
know it’s not me, but
the fear of rejection
raising its ugly head;
I now fear the light that
hides the truth,
and embraced darkness unpretentious;
darkness that glitter with false light,
where hopes are drowned
in promises of elixir of life,
and love is traded and exchanged
in flesh markets;
Oh ye all with high hopes
of a bright future in your hearts,
enter here at your own risk,
for here hopes come to die,
and heartbreaks reign supreme.

Where Words Live

beware ye all who enter here,
words lie around here,
not to soothe thy heart.


here desires are stocked,
and hunger reigns,
quench your thirst at leisure,
when the liquor flows.


open thy mind,
let the exhilaration course
through thy veins,
feel the exquisite pain,
and see thy heart bleed.


immerse thee in the beauty
but beware of the thorns,
thou will be challenged,
may sometimes be titillated,
words may sometimes bite,
but they will not curse,
they will prick, and they may poke,
but they will never incite.


violence is abhorred here,
and love dispensed freely,
so take what you like,
who knows what tomorrow brings,
the glaciers recede,
and the river dies.

Price of Indulgence

the price of indulging incitation,
paid by our silence to timely confront.
remember kristallnacht?
failure of the world at large
to stand up to a bully,
paid by bloods of millions of innocents,
and two atom bombs.

the world will never be the same again,
never again, we say
and then we keep mum,
when silence serves our purpose.

countless millions on the street,
the world lumbers from crisis to crisis,
many, a paycheck away from being on the street,
and our silence may put many out there soon.
one flash and boom it goes,
years of dreams down the drain.

the hearth has been stocked,
the fuel supplied,
a word evil, spoken from a distance safe, enough to spark
the fire of hatred.
as Rome burns, fiddles Nero.
and those who indulge and condone,
won’t even have the
rights to remain silent,
when they come for them.

The Hourglass

The most profound ideas of the day come to mind in the toilet because they are worthy of being flushed out of the system at the earliest.

Why does the sands of time
drips so slowly, and then
the hourglass turns?
Why can’t time remain at
standstill as we mourn
the scores that departed
to the unknown shores?
do you hear the blood curdling
howls of the hyenas circling,
to rip the coffins before
the bodies are cold?
the vampires do not dread
the light anymore,
ready to suck the blood
as life goes out.
as we mourn, somewhere else
a life mortgaged to luxuries
while living, slowly ebbs,
and street dogs stand in
guard of honour
for the one who has no home.
the sands of time drips ever so slowly,
and the hourglass turns,
as we mourn.


featured image from pixabay

Extravagant

O thou extravagant,

with the luxury of time to waste

to indulge in nostalgia of

a bygone past,

spare some of it

to explore the beauty

of the present,

and nurture it well.

reach out and embrace

what is,

lest the future passes you by,

and you are left with

the luxury of time,

to waste and rue,

what could have been,

what could have been!

Dark was the night

These set of Haikus reflect my thoughts about the current situation of fires sparked by lightning in northern California

dark was the night sky

lightning’s macabre dance struck

prometheus laughed

*****

blue was the dawn sky

quick stepping fire, sensuous

grey sky hid the sun

*****

ravenous hunger

terrain, a sumptuous meal

scorched earth cries dry tears

****”

dreams collapse and die

nature’s fury relentless

a colorless sky

*****

dawn breaks, a dim sun

unstoppable red devil

bravehearts stand guard

*****

Red Hot Tongue of Fire

My home state, California, specifically northern California is burning, fires ignited by dry lightning. Many had to flee their homes to safety as firefighters fight valiantly to tame the fires. The poem below was written in English yesterday and than translated to my mother tongue Assamese (Axomiya) about my feelings of the last few days as the fires rage on.

between sunset and sunrise,
lies the vagaries of the night,
destiny rings the bell,
lightning strikes,
dreams go up in flames.

as you flee,
as you flee,
you look back,
and there is
nothing to see,
there against the darkness,
dances the red hot tongue,
ravenous to devour all
in its path.

tears no match to
quench its thirst,
a scorched earth silently
curses a heartless sky,
and at sunrise,
sun hides its face, ashamed,
taking cover behind the
smoke screen.

as the tired bodies throw
themselves at the roaring monster,
nature claims victory
over the mortals,
dawn breaks,
a new day of dashed hopes,
and for many,
nowhere to go.

অগ্নিৰ লেলিহান শিখা

সুৰ্যাস্ত আৰু সুৰ্যোদয়ৰ মাজত
খেয়ালী নিশাৰ সপোনৰ খেল,
দূৰৈত নি‌‌য়তিৰ কূটিল হাঁহি,
বিজুলীৰ নাচোন,
ধোঁৱা হৈ উৰি গ’ল
সোণালী সপোন।

পলোৱা, পেলোৱা,
পিছলৈ ঘূৰি চাই দেখিবা কি?
অন্ধকাৰ আকাশৰ চিত্ৰপটত
নাচে জলন্ত অগ্নিৰ
ৰক্তিম লেলিহান শিখা,
সমুখত সকলো কৰি ভস্মীভূত,
প্ৰচণ্ড ক্ষুধাত
অগ্ৰগামী মূৰ্তিমান বিভীষিকা।

চকুপানীত তোমাৰ
নহয় পূৰণ তৃষ্ণা তাইৰ,
অগ্নিদগ্ধ ধৰণীয়ে দিয়ে অভিশাপ
হৃদয়হীন শুকান আকাশক।
আৰু সুৰ্যোদয়ত?
লজ্জিত অৰুণে
ছাঁই হৈ যোৱা সপোনৰ
ধোঁৱাৰ ওৰণি তলত,
লাজতে লুকাই মুখ।

ক্লান্ত দেহবোৰে যেতিয়া
ৰুধিবলে ক্ষুদ্ধিত বহ্নিৰ অগ্ৰসৰ
মৃত্যুকো নেওচি পৰে জপি‌য়াই,
প্ৰকৃতিয়ে মৰণশীল মানৱৰ ওপৰত
কৰে বিজয় ঘোষণা।
দিগন্তত তেতিয়া ৰাতিপুৱাৰ আভাষ,
এটা নতুন দিন ভগ্ন সপোনৰ,
আৰু বহুজনৰ
সপোনৰ শেষ,
নাই কোনো ঘৰ
ঘূৰি যাবলৈ।

Conflict of Interest

We are in that time of the year, when every four years a circus comes to the town, nay country. This year by grace of God or COVID, we are spared some of the drama. At least the last few months of stay at home has made us experts in ignoring the noise and concentrating more on other important distractions like social media, Netflix , Amazon prime and others like them. Unfortunately, come November, whether we like it or not, the circus will be at its climax and we shall be either participants or spectators. The poem below is a tongue in cheek look at our dilemma. Nothing in it is remotely connected to reality, so don’t even try to read too much into it.

Conflict of interest manifests,
when a thief is sent to guard the assets.
the institutions on which democracy stands,
slowly gets dismantled.
capitalism rears its ugly head,
socialism around the corner, faithfuls shout.
while the liberals lick their wounds,
conservatives gloat.

beware, beware,
what goes around, comes around.
will you still be standing
when they come for you,
and you have no where to hide?
alas, we are being trained
to disagree without being civil to each other.

we aim for the jugulars,
while the goats bleed slowly
the meeks are always the sacrificial lambs,
to be slaughtered at the alter of greed.

and as the lemmings run to the sea,
the drama of election unfolds.
the pious utterances fill the atmosphere with hot air.
no wonder we experience a heat wave all around,
and the grinch all ready to steal Christmas.

rejoice,rejoice,
there is always a tomorrow.
people get what they deserve,
isn’t that what democracy is all about?
asking for privileges without exercising one’s rights,
or is it the other way around?

who cares, we are the
Greatest of All Times,
goat, is that such a grand animal to be?
silence of the lambs,
or the dead silence music to the ears
of powers to be?

democracy, ah democracy,
somewhere dead King George must be laughing in his grave,
and Hitler may be rueing
being born at the wrong time.
we march on, divided we stand, United?

 

A few scattered pearls: সিঁচৰিত মুকুতা মণি

I generally write in any one of the four languages I know and then I translate sometimes to others. Normally, it’s confined to English and my mother tongue, Assamese (Axomiya). The one liner poems below, I started writing as it came and started translating simultaneously. For convenience of my readers, I am placing the English one first followed by the Assamese. However, they were not written and translated in any particular order.

Walking up a moonbeam to meet your love, have you seen your dreams shattered?
প্ৰেয়সীৰ সন্ধানত জোনাকৰ পম খেদি গৈ,দেখিছানে সপোন চুৰমাৰ যোৱা হৈ?


Looking up at the sky on a dark night, have you seen your dreams diffused among the glittering lights?
এন্ধাৰ নিশা তৰাবছা আকাশলৈ চাই, দেখিছানে সপোন তোমাৰ তৰালীৰ মাজত যোৱা হেৰাই?


If ever I lose myself in my poems, look for me among the few scattered pearls between the lines.
কেতিয়াবা যদি হেৰাই যাওঁ মোৰ কবিতাৰ মাজত, বিচাৰিবা মোক কবিতাৰ শাৰীৰ এমুঠি সিঁচৰিত হৈ থকা মুকুতা মণিত।


Not a purveyor of dreams unrealistic, my imagination takes flight seeking the unknown.
নহ‌ওঁ অলীক সপোনৰ পিয়াসী, মন মোৰ উৰা মাৰে অজানৰ সন্ধানত।


Why the moon has such a fatal attraction, I only look for beauty where none exists.
কিয় বাৰু জোনাকে মোক কৰে আকৰ্ষণ, মইতো মাথোঁ নোহোৱাতো কৰো সৌন্দৰ্য্যৰ অন্বেষণ।


There are more where it came from, just afraid that if I bared all, there will be no tomorrow.
আছে আৰু বহুতো গোপনে বুকুত, ভয় হয় যদি দিওঁ নিজকে উজাৰি, নেদেখিম পুৱাৰ সূৰ্যোদয়।


Silicon Valley

in the valley of heart’s delight,
quality of life on the demise,
homelessness on the rise,
we keep shut our eyes,
as if everything is working fine,
we go on with our lives.
blessed by nature in abundance,
we take everything for granted.
reward success with stock options,
and measure success in terms of
square feet of our homes,
and latest models of cars in the driveways.
we discuss about vacation homes while many go without,
consumption is king for the haves,
for the have nots street is one pay check away.
as we go merrily through our day,
the heart, from the valley of heart’s delight
crumbles and turns to dust.
alas, in time the silicon also will slip away.