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The garb of the hills
Came off one by one by now
The rivers were unable to bear the flood of teardrops anymore
On the day
The two women were paraded nude on the street
The river waters boiled to turn into vapour
and rose out into the sky
Not being able to bear the burden of the sinning world
At the meeting point of unruly darkish cloud with
the remaining water particles turned into vapour
from the socket of the eye flying out into the sky
Once there had been a cloudburst in the sky
Following torrential rains continually for seven days-seven nights
a lake was created in the plains with the water poured down –
people call it as the Lake of lotok*
people call it as the Lake of loktok*
people call it the Loktak Lake
The whiff of wind of parched sighs of legends
Blew again in opposite direction that day
On the day
The two women were paraded nude along the street
In a procession of blind-deaf-dumb people
The teardrops filled river flowing down the denuded river
Dried up finally in the lake
***
Everywhere there is
So much advertisement
So much competition
of light
Among all these it disappears suddenly
As always?
It disappeared just a while ago like always
Where? Why? Under whose permission or direction?
Just because it is a sort of practice
To disappear for an odd couple of hours
The workers- sentry-distributors of the department
Cannot distribute prasad everywhere
So?
The boys agitating against big dams
To make the people understand the necessity of power
Since the day the electricity came down to Earth
the shimmering of the stars and the smile of the moon
has gradually diminished to nought-in protest to that?
Nah
Nothing of those
The cause of today’s loadshedding is a different one
The oldest merchant vending the electric bulb have passed out today
In his memory
The fireflies are parading out frequently on the ground
And
The condolence of the stars
on the sky
***
1.
I know something about me that others donot
After reading the sentence
You too have expressed your desire to learn that
As you are always inclined to learn about others
At the same time
Why are you disinterested to learn about yourself
There was nothing unjust
Still
That you perhaps donot know
Or
Donot bother to think
And
When you’d
It’d be already too late
The leaves’d turn yellow
As days’d roll from autumn into winter
Whatever lonesome few seniors’d remain
Clinging to the twigs
Waiting for call of time
To fall off
Gradually tree possess nerve cell
The gloomy truth of science ever unfathomable
Would manifest before you
With great speed with the heart of literature
You’d stop pondering about the world
Since the day you have stopped pondering about the world
Or else since the day you have started thinking about yourself again
A door of great possibility would be unlocked or get shut
Still
Even if you wish to
You cannot keep the door shut for ever
And even if you keep it open
The Sunlight coming in through the open door
Scorches the feathers of your dream-wings
2.
Gradually tree have branches
Gradually tree have leaves
Tree have bark
Tree have greenery
Have flower
Have fruit
Trunk-roots
Do inhale-exhale
Gradually tree possess nerve cell
Gradually tree possess nerve cell
Gradually tree possess nerve cell
At last
I learnt something that others don’t
Now to learn this new or old fact
You keep pondering throughout the day on your own
Losing sleep at night
Else stopping to ponder about others
And to discover about some new facts about oneself
Tie the knot in the yoke
Because
The thing that I know is –
One got to plough got to plough
Got to plough till buds bloom
The large uneven chunks of earth need to be ground to powder
Through echer-xamar-tinishi1-moving over and then pounding with dolimora2
The dry grasses, dry stumps and hay-garbage need to be burnt down
Got to delve out and uproot the Sessor3-Keheru4-Binoi5 stumps
Got to sprinkle cowdung-oilcake-hyacinth-bindweed
Than only you can sow
Summer paddy
Gradually shade of tree gradually sunshine of tree
Gradually sunshine of tree gradually shade of tree
Gradually forest crossing through the tree
Woods after crossing through the forests
It is still long six months
For
Winter paddy
***
1.
In an aqueous world in an aqueous bed
I shut my eyes after lying in the posture of Savasana
After first loosening the right leg thumb
I released the others too one by one in the aqueous bed
In the aqueous bed in the aqueous world
Next I loosened the left leg thumb too
Then the ankles of both legs
Calves knees and the waist
As I gradually submerged
My stomach chest back spine neck chin lip cheek tongue
Nose mouth teeth eyes ears head
Everything disappeared from my body
Leaving myself in the aqueous bed in the aqueous world
Now I am in ethereal state discarding the body
2.
Look –
By flying up and floating even higher
From the highest point of the sky
I have lost myself
Where life and death is inseparable
Paralyzed inquisitiveness paralyzed definition
Argument-counter argument
Reply-counter reply
There is nothing like starting point
There is nothing like end point
There is nothing like this bank
There is nothing like that bank
Or meaningless meaning of difference and dilemma
Though starting with a quandary
For me the difference between question and answer
Is meaningless at this moment
3
I am now formless leaving my body
And at this moment it is the only truth for me
But even then I couldn’t come out of my ego
(That means futility of my quest of knowing thyself!)
Perhaps Buddha only knows the answer
The one who is always in silence
With characteristic elegance
In the light of question
4
After I returned from beside Buddha
I am again in my corporeal form
Leaving my formless form
Changing the old pair of dress
At the awakening at the end of trance
I am opening my eyes
Again putting on a fresh pair of dress …
+++
...
(The most initial phase had been two cells
That broke into four
From four to eight
From eight to...
And
One day after its sudden cognition
We gave it an identifying name – embryo
That gradually developed inside your womb
This is the first vibration of new generation
At the end of eternal awaitance)
...
+++
In the twilight
The pair of eyes blinked for the first time
Welcome with ululation
Get up
Rise
Come to senses
Pick up a new lullaby onto your lips
Let the path to the prayer house be blessed
The chanting of hymns for invoking the well being
Like the sacred blow of a conch
Look –
From the extreme height of the sky beyond sight
A flock of white pigeon is proceeding to the sky of the eye
Flapping their wings
It is that another longing has woken up
On the lap of your longing
***
Construction of some tales are often as per need.
Sometimes the need of creators, sometimes
at the indirect need of listener-audience-reader.
Creation of tales are also as per the force of wings of imagination.
That’s acceptable as fictional-construction. But how much is firm
the so-called firm scripture other than science? Doesn't
the mountain of questions arise there? By taking
not as supernatural if the fish is taken as natural ?
The fish didn't rescue all the lives
going to be doomed in the Apocalypse. Rescued only a book—
whose essence is regarded as line of stone ages after ages.
There are many rivers-oceans of blood from the birth of the book
to the time when the letters, words and sentences
became constant and finally offered in the
water with a water-burial. Why?
Saying up to this the professor turned solemn. Thereafter—
Whether the fish rescued the book from water burial
by supernatural power or thinking to be inedible not
seen before being pushed back with his tail from water to bank?
(The fish might be dolphin too whose brain is sharper than man!)
In the midst of the undetermined matter was
remained undetermined already the words of the book got
slowly, slowly erased from the memory of all. Only
in the memory of a fisherman near the sea words were heaped.
That day after the huge fish was caught in net
singing songs of praise to the Fish-god during it was distributed
to all in the village meeting the speech addressed by the fisherman—
the lost words like the silvery moonlight again became crystal clear
in every one's memory. Next year on the same new moon day
in the village a big ceremonial worship was offered to the Fish-god.
In the next year too, in the next century too,
in the next millennium too…
Sad fact— the hero fisherman not reachable by any word of history
is now not kept in anyone's memory.
Narrating these words being self occupied for sometime,
the corners of the eyes of Professor Satchidananda became moist—
Does anyone keep the records of
so many unrecognized perseverance of space and time?
History is after all part-building of that day—
Let's climb the mountain of questions!
***
KABITA
One day
she narrated a tale
of a Kalpavriksha
with metaphors
Chain or discipline
The time when nothing
could be comprehended
Like the removal of peel
from banana stem
while removing the veils
one after another
it was found– the tree was
no one else
but she herself
On another day
it was seen
the leaves of the tree
who wanted to give endless fruits
were being nibbled
by few metaphor, simile and allegory
Once again I saw
during the time of digging the inferno
in search of retrieval of the meaning
There are not many days left for Spring
At this same time of infinite Winter
did she too think about tender leaves
or was she busy in digging
another tale
The tales are as if
the temporary chaos-discipline of crossword
Before the finding of meaning of all
symbols-similes-allegories
Thereafter through another labyrinth
again another journey
Beyond the boundary of orchard
expanding from the bank of river
to the bottom of hill
throughout the dense forest of shrubs
picking and picking
the unknown-unseen-unheard imageries
She is a mouthful sunshine
wet in fog
Tolerating the scratches of
thorny grass on feet
through the fallen leaves and branches
towards tender leaves
busy is my Vrikshakalpa
in making lesson on symbols of
dew-blood
***
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