Aamar Bhanga Pather Raangaa Dhulaay

In the razed path, that saunters to me, on the ochre dust, there lie her footfalls!

A petal or two is spread out from the garland that girdled her.

When she came furtively, there was no jingle, not a tad of clink-

But she went away and I knew then…

It is she, or who else would make my eyes flooded with tear!

The tender light was softly radiant then, at the day break.

The petals covered the way.

And the spring with all its hues made his presence felt

I had waited and waited, in my frustrated hut, hopelessly, for a missive-

I would leave for good, leave today, carrying my threadbare soul…

 (Aamar Bhanga Pather Raangaa Dhulaay by Rabindranath Tagore)

Why ? is not this a democratic country...political pimps must ever rule the roosts? Phony wimps.

Notice to Arvind Kejriwal: Such an odious sissy stance and over reaction by the parliament brass, which smacks of a showbiz of a proactive attitude can never take the issue far. Whose Parliament, our august and Hon'ble parliament is? Is it someone’s inheritance? Parliament does not mean the gargantuan building...we have selected a few amongst us and have sent them to be our representative, and despite all we , try our level best to show regards to the parliamentarians, and they enjoy the right of raising 'privilege motion'...I think, that as it is a  republic and democracy, people should be bestowed with the power to recall the MP of their choice, if s/he fails to execute sufficient and satisfactory works...if 2/3rd people or something like that of a Loksabha Kendra want...the MP should be forced to resign and a fresh election should be conducted. I am fully aware that a by election would involve wastage of money and country’s resources, but it would be faux pas if this is not localized. After we have selected one among us, s/he won't assume a 'holier than thou' air and must be at the beck and call of his/her parliamentary section, if the parliament is not in a session. Being an MP or a minister does not necessarily imply that, "All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others"... they are there to cater our needs, problems or impediments. This should be strongly adhered to if the country wants to be known as a welfare state. One must remember that an MP's tenure is a maximum 5 years...and after that if s/he refrains from contesting or is defeated, s/he must ride the same bus with us, so never demean your voters, they are not only some machines that walks to the booth, enduring or braving scorching sun or torrential rain and pushes a button like an automated gadget. Are the parliamentarians from Mars or from some paradise like impeccable, sinless shores? If need be and the people of this country orders, the laws must be amended.

When you stand silently, faraway

Where the meandering road takes a turn

The moments of caressing you…

Bewilders me, in an exotic spell

I dart to that far-flung, distant deep

I dash to that elusive fervour

Are you a mirage dream or a long way away pole star!

When the sun’s luminous droplet spreads itself upon the ear of the paddy

I sprint to that horizon

I scurry, pervaded by ecstasy

Are you the forgotten poems?

The moments of caressing you…

Bewilders me, in an exotic spell

(La la la…la laa laa la la!)- 

A slapdash  translation of Sahar's band "Nirabey Doorey"

সেই দিন এই মাঠ স্তব্ধ হবেনাকো জানি –
এই নদী নক্ষত্রের তলে
সেদিনও দেখিবে স্বপ্ন –
সোনার স্বপ্নের সাধ পৃথিবীতে কবে আর ঝরে়? 
- জীবনানন্দ দাশ


 Even on the day of my bidding adieu, this bustling field won’t be quiet

This river under the twilight star

Would continue to dream its dream-

When, when from us, the  pine for ‘what is not’, took a brief leave?

পৃথিবীর সব ধব্বনি সব রং মুছে গেলে পর

উড়ুক – উড়ুক তারা হ্র্দয়ের শব্দহীন জ্যোৎসনার ভিতর

After all the dins are gone, after the hues and tints of the frenzied world are rubbed off

Let there be a flight, let them soar - amid the quiet moon soaked inner sanctum of the heart…

If  I, if I,  never know him….would he, would he beacon me…today , when love is in the air, …whisper sweet strains to my blooming buds…would he tint the flowers with his own hue, and reign over their hearts and sway  the green leaves…wake me up by knocking at my heart’s door…would not he…? I’ld never know, never…would he come across me? 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8ouSsltfz0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgWqWraVufI

Raatri jabey hobey andhokar

Baatayoney bosiyo tomaar.

Sob chherey jaabo, priye, samookher path diye-

Feeray dekha hobey naa toh aar.

Feley diyo bhorey gaantha  mlaan mallikar malakhani –

Sei hobey sparsho, sei tobo bidayer baani.- Sesh Basanto

 by Rabindranath Tagore

Buenos Aires

In the eventide

Sit beside the casement.

I would leave all, my dearest, before thee …

Before our much trodden path

We would never meet, never, ever again…

Leave the wreath of desiccated flowers-

That would be the last touch of you

Our parting message that would be –The Last Spring

by Rabindranath Tagore

Buenos Aires

From my very dear bro n buddy Arindam Roy I have shared this rare, well nigh spellbinding video by Bratati Bandyopadhyay & Protyush...Rabindranath's another cosmic creation's exquisite enthralling rendition: "Jodi Tomar Dekha Naa Pai Prabhu" -" If I am Deprived of having a Glimpse of you, O! Lord" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7atWTkIVWnk&feature=share

Our very own Thomas Chatterton, Bhanusingha, Tagore's adolescence-16 years avatar, also created such masterpieces at that tender age, emulating Vaishnavite poets like Vidyapati and Chandidasa, whose leit motif was the cult of worshipping theb amour of Radha and Krishna. He has left a spell at that age, which seems well-nigh impossible...and, that too was written in apparently Maithili language. In his autobiographical tome, Jibansmriti, Rabindranath has made an elaborate discourse on this magical poetic experience. . . that, in one rain soaked afternoon, with clouds louring from the sky he was spellbound and having a slate and a pencil scribbled 'Gahanokusumo Kunjamaajhey'...this opened up the fountainhead of the heavenly poet in him and he wrote a voluminous series of poems on this genre. Here we find a bizarre similarity of Rabindranath with the young poet, who looked like an angel, Thomas Chatterton...who has to under go onslaught most savage by the contemporary critics and so called connoisseurs. From his "Last Will and Testament", a line was gleaned, and was inscribed as his epitaph, "To the memory of Thomas Chatterton. Reader! judge not. If thou art a Christian, believe that he shall be judged by a Superior Power. To that Power only is he now answerable."...after his most untimely death at a very tender age, them a successive Romantics -chiefly, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, Keats and much later Dante G. Rosseti were enraged and they scribbled lines with his fond remembrance I 'ld be signing off with a couple of lines by Percy Shelley, that was written by a poet, whose ideals regarding Romanticism was unparalleled: "The inheritors of unfulfilled renown
Rose from their thrones, built beyond mortal thought,
Far in the unapparent. Chatterton
Rose pale, his solemn agony had not
Yet faded from him;"- Adonais/ Percy Shelley However, it is much relieving that Tagore was not pilloried and crucified, for his unique venture that would be cherished generations after generations...

                             Gohono Kusumo Kunja Majhe.....Co-ordinated by Sarbani Shome

Likewise her Greecian counterpart Athena or Roman goddess Minerva, the Hinduism worships Goddess Saraswarti...personally an atheist, or at best agnostic that I am , there is no possibility of formal worshiping her by me, where the other members complies with the associated rituals.However, Rabindranath Tagore , who, was really cosmic, there is not a single domain on the earth where he never treaded with his gargantuan stature and illuminated that realm...I want to offer most humbly a song by the poet cosmic on the Hindu goddess of learning, fine arts like music, painting etc. Portrayed as a exceptionally beautiful and elegant young lady with a lyre she is being worshiped today in the Hindu households, in the meantime let us savour the poet's paean most lyrical and mellifluous , dedicated to her.

Bhebechhi toh andhokarey aami hobo raater purut
Aadim mandirey ekaa tumi eso nagnotaar debi, 
Magnotaar andhokarey aami jaar ekmaatro sebee,
Dhooper gandher swad debey eney ekhon j doot –
Sey toh sudhu gandhobaho prithibir pushpomoy maas
Puraano moder gandhey bhorey jaay raater baatas,
Othobaa hridoye dhaaley jantronaar korun nirjaas. - Symphony




My slapdash and shoddy trans-creation has done immense injustice to the original poet, despite all reading him makes the poet extraordinaire Al Mahmud more and more fascinating and unputdownable, I seek apology for the flawed and deficient translation, or rather transcreation, for that matter: 
*** *** *** ***                               *** *** *** ***                                   *** *** *** *** 
I’ld preside upon the nocturnal ritual
I invoke thee, the deity of nudity in the antique temple,
I would be the lone worshipper in the immersed darkness
The aroma wafting incense would be borne by the messenger
Who is naught but the earth’s fragrant springtime –the floral month
The heady magic of the aeon old wine makes the nightly air dizzy,
The excruciating gaiety makes you immaculate,
Or pours down the essence of grieving anguish onto the inner sanctum of my heart. - Symphony


Note:  Al Mahmud is a Bangladeshi Poet, novelist, short-story writer. He is considered as one of the greatest Bengali poets emerged in the 1950s, his enchanting book of poem Sonali Kabin (1966) is a milestone in the history of Bengali poetry.