The Stationary Refugee

স্বপ্ন

2017-03-12T00:36:00.000+05:30

কিছু স্বপ্ন
ঘুরে ফিরে আসে
ঠিক পাড়ে এসে ধাক্কা খেয়ে যাওয়া
ঢেউ গুলোর মতো

কখনো দুপুর বেলায়
কখনো মাঝরাতে
উড়ে বেড়ায়
অনেক সময়
তোমার সাথে কাটানো মুহুর্ত গুলোর মাঝে

দাগ কেটে যায়
মনের অনেক গভীরে
আর দিয়ে যায়
কিছু রঙ্গিন ছবি
আনন্দের, অবাস্তব ছবি

বার বার
ঘুরে ফিরে আসে
আবার মিলিয়ে যায়
অনেকটা ঝিল এ বসন্তের হাত্তয়ায় ওটা তরঙ্গের মতন

Bondi

2017-01-18T15:33:00.000+05:30

Bondi achi tor moner vitor
Palaimu kemone?
Din jay, raat jay, tarpor bochor jai ghuira
Khuji firi tore swapone

Chhilam koto sukhe pukurer moiddhe
Chhilo na tate kono bhul
Tarpor jokhon porlam giya majh doiray
Pailam na kono kul

The Tale

2016-12-01T15:28:00.000+05:30

There’s a deserted dwelling by the alley,
On the dwelling a darkness unfolds;
A witty cat, used to dally,
And walked by when darkness unfolds;
Vowed to sing the song of life,
But the tale couldn’t thrive.

মধুমিতা

2016-01-22T17:31:00.000+05:30

তুমি অহংকার কে তোমার ভূষণ করেছো
তোমার সৃস্টিশীলতা কে তোমার অহংকার করতে পারোনা?

কিছু কথা, কিছু ছন্দ জুড়ে একটা জামা, আর
কিছু কল্পনা, কিছু অনুভূতি জুড়ে কিছু গহনা?

এই সাজে সাজতে পারোনা?

কুলধারা

2015-12-09T15:44:00.001+05:30

কিছু ভাঙা ইট,
কিছু পুড়ে যাওয়া, আধ ভাঙা দেআল;
যার চারপাশে গজিয়ে উঠেছে কিছু বুনো ক্যাকটাস ||

কিছু শুকনো নর্দমা,
কিছু ধূলিধূসরিত রুক্ষ সরু গলি;
যেখানে পরে আছে কিছু ভাঙা কাচের চুড়ি, আর মার্বেল গুলি ||

কিছু ফাঁকা চাতাল,
কিছু ধসে যাওয়া মন্দির;
যার ভেতরে পরে রয়েছে কিছু বিগ্রহের ভগ্নাবশেষ ||

কিছু অজানা আদিম শব্দ,
কিছু শতাব্দীপ্রাচীন জমাট বাতাস,
মধ্যে যার আবদ্ধ রয়ে গেছে কিছু উৎকট, পচা গন্ধ ||

Good Friend

2015-04-20T13:25:00.002+05:30

কতো স্বপ্ন মরে বুকে,
কতো ইচ্ছে বাঁধে গান;
কভু বিষাদ নামে চোখে,
কভু হাত্তয়ায় দোলে প্রাণ;

এতো বৃষ্টি ভেজা সকাল,
তবু চাতক কেনো এ প্রাণ?

ওগো বিদেশিনী

2015-02-04T15:49:00.002+05:30

একটু ছোঁয়ার জন্য;
একটু পাসে বসা,
একটু হাতে হাত রাখার জন্য,
তোমাকে চাই |

একটু ভেজার জন্য,
একটা সাথি;
একটু গানের জন্য,
তোমাকে চাই |

একটু উষ্ণতার জন্য;
একটু আবেগ,
একটু ভালোবাসার জন্য,
তোমাকে চাই |

কলিঙ্গ

2014-05-01T12:15:00.002+05:30

কাল সারা রাত জেগে কাটিয়েছি,

শুধু তোমার কথা ভেবে কাটিয়েছি|

টাইম মেশিনটা হারিয়ে গেছে রানী সাহেবা!

আমি কলিঙ্গ যেতে পরিনি!

বিশ্বাস করো আমি সত্যি বলছি;

রাত্রে বলিশের নীচে রেখে শুয়েছিলাম;

সকলে উঠে আর পাইনি!

জানিনা কেনো শুধু কিছু ঝাপসা ছবি মনে বার বার উকি দিচ্ছে|

একটা প্রবল ঝড় ও বৃষ্টির রাত;

বাজের ব্যাপক আলোয় সম্পূর্ণ দিক্চক্রবাল এবং

মাঝে মধ্যেই দূরে সমুদ্রের উত্তাল রূপটা স্পষ্ট হয়ে উঠছে|

আর তাতে কিছু নোঙররত আদিম জাহাজের টিকে থাকার লড়াই!

রানী সাহেবা, এই কী কলিঙ্গ?

অবাধ

2014-04-25T12:17:00.000+05:30

মৃতু্যটাকে যদি দূর করতে পারতে তবে বুঝতাম তুমি মানুষ;

আর শান্তি, সেটাতো তোমার হাতে নেই!

কবিগান শুনেছো?

বেদুইনের বাজনা শুনেছো কখনো?

আর ওই মাতালটার আর্তনাদ যে শেষ নি:শ্বাসটা বের হবে কখন ভেবে

পথের ধারে পরে যন্ত্রণায় কাৎড়ায়?

ওই রূপকথার সোনালী পাখিটকে ছুয়ে দেখেছো কখনো?

আর পরশপাথর? সেটা কেমন?

আর আমার নগ্ন আত্মা যেটা একদিন তোমার প্রতিটি ইন্দ্রিয়ের

মধ্যে উত্তেজনার পাবক সৃষ্টি করেছিলো?

কতজনকে চুমু খেয়েছো?

গুণে দেখেছো কখনো?

আর কতজনকে খাবে? ভেবে দেখেছো কোনদিন?

আর আমারটা?

সেটাকি তোমার মনে প্রথম স্থান পাবে কোনদিন?

Angel of the Rustics

2014-04-21T16:43:00.000+05:30

The lightseeker, woman of the darkness;
Angel of the rustics, adoring the meekness.

Clad in white, the harbinger of Spring;
Sprinkling delight, for the Magnolia to rise from the ruins!

The enchanter, foster parent of the planters;
Annihilator of draughts, blooming lavenders.

The emissary of hope, drizzling faith;
So the phoenix may once again rise from the ashes!

On a deity: A note on her sublime carve

2014-04-15T13:20:00.000+05:30

Classic!

Those enigmatic sources of inspiration;
Sparkles within, still keep you calm;
Curiously blushed; after the bridal night;
Yes, your pretty ebony eyes.

Will be praised by generations, and beheld by bards for inspiration;
Will be the short-lived vision of painters;
And the cherished carve of sculptors!!

You are the Cuckoo in autumn;
You are monsoon for the thirsting planters;
You are the Gardenia in spring;
Oh dear! You are bliss in utter despondency..

~

কন্যা

2014-03-23T21:45:00.004+05:30

কন্যাভ্রুণস্রস্টা আমি,
অদৃষ্টের নগ্ন অট্টহাস্য, ঘুরে ফিরে আসে,
চায় মুক্তি, দমে মায়ার নাগপাসে;
প্রবঞ্চকের দান ভেবে ভ্রমি!!

কন্যাসন্তানলব্ধ আমি,
নিঃস্ করেচে ঐ বীর্যহীন বিধাতার
কোনো এক অর্থলোলুপ শিক্ষিত চামার;
সৃষ্টির স্বাদে তবু আমি জগৎস্বামী!!

কন্যাদায়গ্রস্ত আমি,
রিক্ত, ভিক্ষুকের ক্ষুধানিবারণে,
নিদ্রাহীন চক্ষু, কণ্টক প্রাণে;
পাশাণ ত্রিভুবনস্বামী!!

কন্যাঋণস্পৃষ্ট আমি,
জীর্ণ দেহ, শীর্ণ মন, গুঞ্জন,
উর্ননাভের শীতল আলিঙ্গন;
মৃত অন্তরযামী!!

গোধূলিলগ্ন, ধুসর অনিল;
ঈশ্বর, যেন মৃতদেহে পঙ্কিল!!

- 19/03/2008

যূদ্ধোত্তর

2014-02-03T22:52:00.001+05:30

অন্তরে মোর দীপ্তশিখা, গহন প্রেমের রজনী;
আপন মনের দরজা খুলিয়া,
                                    দাওগো দেখা সজনী ||

রিনিঝিনি এই বৃষ্টি মাঝে, ধাতব দুশ্চিন্তা;
আমার হৃদয় ছিন্ন করিয়া,
                                  কি তোমার নতুন চিন্তা?

অন্ধকারে হাতড়ায় প্রাণ, খোঁজে অভয়ের গান;
মরিচিকা সম দৃষ্টি তব,
                              শোনায় রাত্রির তান ||

ঐ ধূর্ত ওলন্দাজের ন্যায় সে করেছে তোমায় গ্রাস;
আমার মনের পিদিম বাতি,
                                    পাচ্ছে মুহুর্মুহু হ্রাস ||

বেরাম্ভন সন্তান আমি, অমৃত খুজিনে;
তোমার অভ্রভেদি চক্ষুদৃষ্টি,
                                  অতশত বুঝিনে ||

এসো এবার ফিরিয়া মনে, চেতনার সন্ধিক্ষণে;
আমার হৃদয়ে রইবে তুমি,
                                  জাগরণে, স্বপনে ||

                                           - 8/09/2006

Love is Shy!

2013-10-04T15:23:00.002+05:30

The gentlest autumn breeze was blowing through her face, her mane;
Making her dip her eyelids sometimes.

The golden rays of the old sun were cleaning off the scars in her face;
Making her stretch her pink lips and expose the pearly whites!

She, with all her pride and might, refuted my presence, and turned around;
To walk away through the green meadow.

I wish I could offer her a warm embrace to make her feel my love for her;
For the last time!

Good Hope

2013-08-23T12:52:00.001+05:30

I never asked
You to conform to my feelings; response.
You did!

I never asked
You to keep the communication open; dulcify.
You did!

I never asked
You to being tender, tame.
You did!

I never asked
You to thieve my repose, slay.
You did!

In the end it doesn't even matter

2012-08-11T21:13:00.001+05:30

Let's end this damn game honey!

You've your reasons, you've your causes;

I have mine too.

I want no more memories, no more moments,

As I've already had the sweetest one, the happiest one!

The one that I've cherished since then,
The one that I'll bear till the end!

Is it wise to turn that into bitterness?

I feel no obligation to do so!

I can forget every pain when I look into your eyes,

But thanks as I can see them now there, in your eyes!

On 16

2012-07-18T15:52:00.000+05:30

Can we walk together for the last time?
Just once before I leave the place forever?

Though memories of all the walks are still alive in me and will there be,
I just want the last so that I can call it the last one!

I just want to breathe you for the last time;
Want to feel the warmth of your palm for once.

Just want to behold your eyes glittering in the dim,
Just the sounds of the anklets for once!

Would you be kind enough to usher this small favor?
Would you allow if I be the poorest beggar and beg the savor?

I know now I won't find the passion that was once there!
Now I know the pure love that was there will be missing.

Still I'm craving as I know this would be the last one!
As I know we won't be able to see each other anymore.

Do you still remember those empty boulevards in the nights?
Do you still see those swelling mansions bright in the streetlights?

Do you still remember the things I used to say about the houses and the playground?
Do you still remember the method I used in cold to warm your palms?

Do you still remember the lock that used to hang from the electric cable?
Do you still remember the dog that used to stare when we seated at the teashop?

Perhaps all the frames have erased from your brains!
Perhaps the D-day will help you pull me out from your sense.

Perhaps new faces will occupy the place!
Perhaps new friends will help banish the FACE!

Perhaps new obsessions will inhabit your imagination!
Perhaps fresh stories will be into motion!

I don’t care how things will take shape in future if you agree to the walk.
Don’t bother where time will take if I can save the last moments forever!

Who knows if you start feeling the same that used to once!
Who knows if the Old Wizard turns out something by playing some tricks!

There is still some hope amid sea of hopelessness;
However, I’m just hopeful of the last walk together!

She - along with her might and pride

2012-04-10T22:00:00.001+05:30

She chased me all the way back home..I could easily feel her presence at a short distance behind me... She, with her all might and vigor, tried to catch me all through.. Sometimes, she, gathering some courage and pace, came few steps ahead, and sometimes, fell behind. But don't know why she couldn't, though there was plenty of time. Or, did she maintained the distance intentionally? It was not comprehensible at all.

I could easily hear her saying - "run, how fast you can, I'd make you fall, though". Was she a hitman hired by the Almighty? A curse? Was I fearful? But the fear was not at all justified - what I can realize now. It was just the fear that was dominant, and not she..

However, I came back home safely, perhaps. But why I still feel the whirling beauty of her inside me? Perhaps, there is no answer......

Eyes that didn't blink

2012-03-06T23:31:00.002+05:30

Still gazing at me, without a single blink? Still have the courage to look into my eyes?
Strange! How could you?

What are you trying to read? Haven't you finished yet?
Strange! Is there still anything left?

What passion you're trying to find out? What treasure? What love?What inspiration?
Should there still be any blaze? Strange!

What those are trying to speak? What unspeakable desire?
Can't you feel what my eyes speak? Strange!

On 24th

2012-02-24T21:18:00.001+05:30

Why am I trembling? Why I’m feeling so cold? Isn't it March?

Yes Sir, it is. Perhaps you've caught cold.

Why I find it so hard to swallow? Why does it hurt so? Is the cook a raw recruit?

No Sir, he isn't. Perhaps you haven’t eaten for long.

Why don’t the flowers smell? Why do they look pale? Is the flower girl young?

No Sir, she is one of the oldest. Perhaps you're exhausted.

Why does it fear to walk alone? Who seems to cry in my ears? Is the road full of white ladies?

No Sir, there aren't any. Perhaps you have been tricked shortly.

Why it feels good to be humble? Why it’s ecstatic to forgive? Am I turning frenzy?

No Master, you're not! Perhaps you're in love.

On Her Departure

2012-02-22T22:31:00.003+05:30

Why don’t you stop breathing? Why don’t you confine the soil from sipping the salty blood coming out of your eyes?

So that I can stop despising you! So that I can once again feel for you!

Why don’t you stop smiling? Why don’t you sleep forever in the deep with those who never grieve?

So that I can once again crave for you! So that I can stop caring you!

Why don’t you stop appearing in my dreams? Why don’t you burn in ashes and sink in the holy waters?

So that I can sleep once again! So that I can once again stand with no fears!

Why doesn’t the mighty chariot take you far away? Why don’t you hear the joyous songs for the last time?

So that I can once again crave to kiss you! So that I can love you!

A Few Things to Share..

2011-08-09T22:43:00.006+05:30

Mainak Banerjee

Hello everybody! Hope you are doing well. Today I'm not going to write anything serious, and make you feel bore. Rather, I wanna share something with you. Yes, there is an obvious purpose behind.

Actually, I want to let you people know that I've not stopped writing, though I've not published anything in my blog since May 18. In fact, I'm now focusing on working as an Web Journalist. Please don't laugh. I really want your support to succeed. I know that I know nothing about Journalism. But since David Silverberg, the Managing Editor of Digital Journal has told me that I've a good journalistic nose, I've become somewhat proud.

Well. let's come to the point. Recently two news articles written by me have been published in two reputed news websites of the US and UK respectively. To be very frank, I'm very much delighted over the success. I've never thought in my life that somebody would appreciate my piece and would publish it in a reputable news site.

I'm not going to elaborate it anymore and would like to show you the articles. Please visit the links provided below to have a glimpse of the articles.

The Economic Voice

NASA: Images Reveal Signs of Flowing Water in Mars

New Jersey Newsroom

Gov. Christie's investment in technology is questionable

‎

I would appreciate your feedback. Thanks for your time!!

--------------

The Legend of Osama: A True Fiction

2011-05-18T18:18:00.004+05:30

Osama has been hunted down but this CIA operation has left a few questions unanswered. Osama has played a role somewhat similar to that of hitler in a different era. The most powerful nation of the 21st century has never tried so hard and never invested so much wealth and energy to destroy a single man. Never before the Americans had spent a whole decade to combat a single entity; a man who had destroyed their pride (The Twin Towers) 10 years beck. Ironically, Osama had to die as his kidneys were failing rapidly and he was just alive on dialysis. This made his captivation more certain as it strictly narrowed his mobility. The questions that arise now are: Why did a kid born with a golden spoon in his mouth chose to become the most dreaded terrorist of all time? And how did he evade captivation for so long?

If we peep into his experiences, we can easily find out the answers. Osama used to be an ordinary teenager like other wealthy Saudis who used to visit the mountains above Beirut just for the sake of recreation in summers. He began to change when he joined King Abdul Aziz University in Jeddah in the year 1975. There he came in touch of Islamic Radicalisms after the defeat of Nasser and his disgrace in the war against Israel in 1967. He was such a sensitive individual that shortly after finishing his study at the university, he joined the rebels (Jihadis) against the Soviet Union in Afghanistan.

While fighting as an Arab mujahideen during this decade long war, he came into contact with Ayman al Zawahiri, the head of Islamic Jihad in Egypt, and Abdullah Azzam from Palestine. Al Qaeda was the outcome of this long association.

After returning to Saudi Arabia from Afghanistan as a war hero, he began to arrange public gatherings and proclaimed the need to restore the true values of Islam in Arab society. This made him a sweetheart of the religious establishment, but a great thorn for the Saudi government. In the year 1990, when Iraq invaded Kuwait and reached perilously close to the Saudi border, Osama begged the royal family not to seek American help and offered to help with his own fellow Jihadis. He wanted to build a series of tunnels and forts along the Iraqi border just like he had built in southern Afghanistan to restrict the Soviet from using their armour. But the Saudi government rejected his plea and sought American help and also allowed them to raise a massive airbase in the country.

In 1994 the inevitable happened; his Saudi citizenship was cancelled and after seeking Sudan’s refuge, finally settled in the caves of Afghanistan’s mountainous region. Al Qaeda, the foundation-stone probably was laid far before by Azzam, Zawahiri and Osama in Peshawar in the year 1988, was formally inaugurated in 1996.

How did Osama manage to evade captivation for so long? There is no doubt that Osama was in the safe protection of Pakistan’ Army in Abbottabad, though in the coming days the two countries, USA and Pakistan would certainly try to mould the story in a completely different foil. Islamabad’s lame excuse that there has been a major intelligence flaw is hardly believable as the house where Osama took shelter was just a stone’ throw away from the military academy of Pakistan’ garrison city Abbottabad. Moreover, not only Osama, but also his wives and nine children were living with him. Osama was definitely not irresponsible enough to can bring his family to stay in such a place which he doesn't consider safe. Just imagine that he came there with three bodyguards! It’s easily concludable that Osama had come to live out the rest of his life in peace. This would never have been possible without utmost support and protection from the Pakistani army.

Though Osama is dead now, the larger-than-life myths that have grown up around him are still there. Pakistan couldn't not sterilise them, nor the Americans. Osama’s fellow Jihadis and the other subordinate terror groups still consider Osama as a potential unifying symbol. These people never depended upon him for inspiration or for logistical support in the recent past. Rather, in their eyes Osama had the same stature as that of Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar. Osama remained as a powerful and igniting symbol in his last days and he was no longer an essential part of the ongoing revolt.

My Oscillatory Personality..

2010-08-13T09:37:00.003+05:30

Often I've been in an oscillating stage, rather indecisive. It is robust incomprehension that lessened my entire trust upon myself. It was a time when I had decent space to nurture my thoughts, my aspirations. Belief was the key in those days. I used to roll then from place to place, willfully neglecting all the earthly concerns. Now the days have changed...myself at sea...baffled. Anyone who wanna draw me as an escapist...may gladly.

Though I'm not providing any excuse to protest my escapist nature, even I'm not an escapist in the true sense of the term. And consciously I'm not a John Keats. Rather, sometimes I feel it is really worthy to become free from the confining society & lead a life similar that of A Robinson Crusoe kind. A complete freedom, refreshening Your soul completely becomes in your grasp. You can let it wander when it wants..and can't spoil it by the cattivo odore of society.

The Ultimate Vagabond..

2010-08-13T09:33:00.002+05:30

It is evidently comprehensible on the part of the spectators what thought I'm intending to convey through the title. Generally the terms 'Stationary' & 'Refugee' don't agree to sit side by side, and if done, clash. But, it's not euphemism ; rather the very reflection of my present soul. I'm confounded in the city of burned bricks...helpless..left wretched. It's craving earnestly to shatter all the hindrances to move like a vagabond.
Sincerely, since my birth I've been searching for a mole's hole..where I may have some secured thoughts. Where I can have the glimpses of the first tekions of the rising sun. Where there would be no pain after perceiving the orange-red rays of the setting sun.