| A Living Thing|
Khairul Haque Chowdhury
On the thematic of Jibananda Das Pakhi
You are asleep after a long journey,
Who should I tell how am I stuck with an appalling astonishment?
Im talking about my discovery the breadth and length of my discovery
A note just received from the stars - you are not waking,
Here is a bird sitting on my chest,
Is it a bird? Or, is it a nearly extinct, red and blue butterfly?
Is it a bird? Or, is it a lonesome firefly?
It has covered itself with brown, golden and blue feathers,
Comes to me in such a lonely cold night
From which quiet string of grass has it originated?
From which string of paddy has it originated?
From the egg of a silk-worm has it acquired this weird pulsation?
On a moonlit night
Who does he want to spend the night with?
Does the lonely string of straw pain him?
Is there anything without pain on earth?
No a his face glows with the unconquerable courage and positiveness;
He knows no pain he depended on the complexity of life
Feathers beaks feathers
These create his fantastic cape.
On a moonlit cold night
He has to come to my grip
Why do I hesitate to kill you when there are death-traps all around? Im also sitting in the clasp of someone
Who will not hesitate to take my life anyway;
I know I will not let you free by any chance;
Yet, I do caress your wet and soft body,
I see fear in your golden eyes; this bird so tiny yet,
He learned the greatest mystery of life
The eternal pain and the fear of demise of everything beautiful;
There is no hope, no desire
Not even love and there cannot be dreams in our earthly life
An eternally flowing sense of parting and bereavement looms all around;
This painfulness resides in their chests as well; in their chests as well; Draped in the numberless deep coloured feathers;
Why then his eyes look for the ocean of moonshine?
Why do the golden eyes search for the ocean of moonshine?
Why does he strive to understand the creation myth?