| Language in my words Abed Chaudhury  We carry in us sounds like frozen objects; And then they break in our dream becoming songs; My dream, my frozen memories; my language. I am my language like waves are on sand are on water; I cannot be separated from grief whimpers, cries When words is taken away, a soul dies. No wonder John said “In the beginning was word” Indeed word is God, like the universe is caused by his nod; Songs are his wish a limitless lexical serpent; Raising her head she bites, creating wounds that last generations. Is that why my brother you died? For mere words? Proving once again that words are thicker than blood; Words are a larger raft that Noah’s arc floating in the flood; Many women, zillion children of Darwin wrapped in cosmic DNA In the boat, boat of songs and memories. Mother earth sister river; For you I have given my last drop of blood; So your memories can live; so your words can flourish. I searched continents in discarded manuscripts your name My Father; I created a land in memory that you missed in the real world. Now they give me garlands, on granites and marble walls They want to write my name They haven’t noticed, I have been dead for a thousand years; that I have never even been born. To those who cry for words, wake up and mind your soul; Languages come and go but dreams remain; In an eternal soul; dreams flourish and light All the fires for a single word, just and right. |
ড. আবেদ চৌধুরী, ক্যানবেরা
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Home Page Published on: 20-Feb-2022 
