Chandan Goswami

Date of Publish: 2023-07-16

A few poems by Chandan Goswami

Thief

 

The mind of each thief

Differs like the different grains of the corn

 

The thief

Rises up from the grave

Every era

To wake up by poking

The dead

Lying in deep sleep for thousand years

of the dead village

 

Thief people

People thief

 

Guard waiting at the end of

Singing consciousness subconsciousness

Vein and subveins

Spend the sorrow washed night

 

Calling

Watch out! Thief

So many nights wakes up

So many nights sleepless

 

No hunger no thirst

Just dreamseeking

For a heartful dream of thief

The longing of thief

 

Burrowing the heart of stone

Darkness lies in a physical form

Bereft of food

Hungry

So many children

So many women

On the street

In each of the refugee camps

In every household of pauper

 

Watch out! Thief

The shouts of the rich are captivating advertisement

The kapouphul (orchid) gone

The gamkharu gone

Gold ornaments gone

Vehicles gone

Clothes gone

Condom gone

 

Gone, everything taken

Pint by pint

Bit by bit

 

At the trijunction

At the square

at the pentafour

reciting the description of

thief’s size shape character

Leaving aside the midday for the thieves

So many midday theft occurred

 

But people are mad today

to get the thieves eyes

 

Morning walk jog exercise

 

Matters are sorrowful

to write a poem for thieves

 

To get the words to mind

First becoming a secret reader of someone’s poem

Telling a story of a rotten apple

To the poet

 

Watching the front and back

Does the community shout

Watch out! Thief

 

While pricking out ears

The thief snatches the idea for himself

 

Yelling

Watch out! thief

 

Translated from original Assamese into English by Bibekananda Choudhary

 

For those without a front-yard

 

Those without a front-yard

Haven't a single night jasmine

No bundle of paddy sheaf

No star in the sky

 

With no front-yard

Surely there wouldn't be a pounding pedal

No lice-hunting women

None would be able to listen to granny's tales

There would be no imagination

No dream

 

With no front-yard

No flock of sparrows would arrive

As wouldn't the doves or swallows

 

With no front-yard

Would the endless lines of ants

The earthworms with raindrops on their bodies

Arrive

Where would the girls stand to gaze at the gateway

 

These people have been forfeiting from one end

Loads of fortune

They've lost their lakes

The betel-nut grove

The lemon plant

The heart of the bitter shrub

The natal plum

The gardens full of 'leteku' and 'poniyol'

The screw pine tree in the abandoned homestead

The hamlets

The loom

The wedding canopy

 

Surely the lack of a frontyard

Is the sign of modernity

______

*leteku - Burmese grapes

*poniyol - coffee palms

Translated from original Assamese into English by Krishna Dulal Barua

 

Mother

(On Noni Borpujari's painting, 'The wounded dream of a woman')

 

In the whirls of the inauspicious night

An inert anguished face

 

Keeps staring at the far-off distance

Without batting an eyelid

 

At the desert's edge a stock-still ship

In the antique painting a coloured crestfallen flute

 

On the half-burnt

Jagged and uneven face of my mother

The tone of decrepit days

 

Yet she says

Look at the eyes

 

At the river-mouth a couple of sparkling fire-flies

The sweetness of a dreamy tune heard by none before

 

Translated from original Assamese into English by Krishna Dulal Barua

 

The altar

(Based on Noni Borpujari's painting, 'Zero gravity')

 

Zero gravity

 

The seven-tier altar wanders afloat

 

Enchantment in dreams and wakefulness

 

Unconcerned about rivers lakes brooks-streams

About wetlands

The slushy mud of the fields

The night jasmines and bullet woods

 

Blowing the buffalo-horn

Who wakes up the unending procession of people

 

Along the vivacious path

My mother and my father

 

Namsingha's roar is engraved in every notch of the altar

Who stomps ahead under the water

A different view sans shadow or illusion

In the cloudy sky a tryst of transformation

Translated from original Assamese into English by Krishna Dulal Barua

 

About the poet:

Chandan Goswami(1976) an Assamese poet, did his post-graduation and LLB from Guwahati University. His first collection of poetry Ekhon Chotal Nothoka Manuhor Proti (2012), was translated into English as For The Ones Without a Court-yard by Bibekananda Choudhury. Goswami has also edited various journals and souvenirs on folklore, literature and socio-political aspects. One of his major work include Noni Borpujari-A Collection of Biographical Sketch and Critical Analysis, which is a critical review of the internationally acclaimed artist, painter, print maker, sculptor and socio- political activist. Goswami is also closely associated with Lokosanskriti, a folklore based research journal.