Creating the moment
Monday, January 10, 2011
Creating the moment
Sunday, January 9, 2011
দিগন্তবিস্তৃত ভয়ঙ্কর তমসায়
অসীম শুন্যতার সঘন আবর্তে,
রাঙাইবে কবে তারি তুলির টান মম রিক্ত মানসচিত্রে?
This weird art of English communication
Has been the source of much of my tribulation.
So many words of various shapes and colors unknown
Flicker and loiter around my vision.
Are they the product of my sole imagination?
Or nebulae of fragments of memory well grown?
The nouns confuse me by their sheer multitude -
Abstract, proper, countable, collective.
My knowledge is evasive of the right attitude
To select the best fit from one of these.
The verbs come as a bit of relief after the torturous nouns
The adverbs being the decor in their crowns.
The adjectives – attributive, predicative, substantive so many of them
I don’t know how, when and where to use them.
Alas, the rhetoric and prosody seems to flee away during my speech;
The alliterations instead of befriending me have pushed me down a ditch.
Shakespearean literature resembles me of the Bermuda triangle
Chaucer and Spencer often clutch me down in strangle.
Will you instil in me the eternal destitute of a deprived soul
And fill my finite head with the infiniteness of the firmament
Shall thou carry me with you to the time marking the beginning of time
And convey to me the purpose of my existence
Will I demolish all the unfathomable distances that separate us
Will I be ever able to touch your unadulterated mind
Can I foresee and rewrite the supposedly unchangeable destiny
Answer me, answer me – Oh my beloved solitude.
Amidst the vast outstretched lush green
At the heart of my city
The milieu used to be so serene
But now it's no more - what a pity!
Oh my fellow city men, - you look so mournful
Due to some unfathomable grief and sorrow plentiful.
I wonder what can be the reason behind this agony
Haven't thou learnt to face the destiny?
Wandering from one corner of the city to the other,
I found the mob in pensive dither;
And finally I came to know the answer.
My fellow city men are bereaved for their leader.
A leader indeed in the true sense of the word.
Whose deeds inspire reverence in a bard;
A leader who has exemplified courage,
Who has been a true icon of patronage;
Stupendifying the entire bunch of country men
With his divine bestowed skills and sheer excellence
But one must realize that nothing can last forever.
Everything in this world be it human life be it success, is ephemeral.
The golden days now lost in the abyss of oblivion,
Should be conveyors of new hopes and sources of inspiration.
Let the dawn of an unblemished era befall on you,
Ending the gloom of nostalgic memoirs and bringing dreams anew.
Let not the spirit of dominance die off from your heart
Because somebody among you is our future leader.