Grateful I am
To live in the paradise,
Where the soil is truly magical,
Giving birth to stars on land, vivid and real.
Those, twinkling nonconformably at different hours of the day and night,
Uncover the mysteries for the seeking minds,
Luring them with a whiff of divinity
That the soul can feel,
Being the universe's devotee.
— % &-
A magical fusion at the 0430 hours
of the divine voice of Birendra krishna Bhadra and the Masjid's heavenly Ezan.
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On a land
Which seems infecund,
Let her scatter the seeds of rose
And set her free,
Watch her booming with
Numerous roses and their aroma
Filling up this galaxy.
Letters in her mind in this same way
will turn into words,
And words into wisdom.
Exempt her from all duress,
To sense the joy of watching her
employing her freedom.
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Oh Lord, with the curved trunk
And head of an elephant,
We bow before you
With deepest reverence in us
And seek your blessings.
Oh Lord of wisdom and knowledge,
Endow us with perpetual strength
So that we be stable and
Can move with unfaltering courage
towards good sense and sagacity,
Understanding and rationality.
Oh Lord, whom, with utmost fondness we hail as Vighnaharta,
We pray to you
Bless us with the power to defy
Everything that is immoral and deleterious
To establish virtue and morality
That will nullify grief and bring felicity.
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In the burrows of the sandy beach
I have buried loosely, my pain and apprehensions.
When the waves reaching the shore
Fill my burrows with water and foam
Far away on land I can feel
my agony shattered and torn.
As the waves take away with them
All that I have kept in the burrows
To dissipate them into the immensity.
It appears to me,
I am the tiniest part of the unknown vastness
And my woes are tinier than the tiniest me.
And this infinity magnanimously bestows upon me
It's unbridled flow of elation and alacrity.-
There's something in me
That's a lie.
A lie, that forever
will remain a lie.
That existence of nothingness and everything, all at once
Mixing up and puzzling all.
Pushing me towards a grave fall
And letting me rise above others' perfidy that
Day by day is growing fat and tall.-
Parturiency or the pleasant pain of labor
Isn't the only way of admiring motherhood.
Motherhood is unimaginably vast,
Nurturing and sheltering anyone who's abandoned.
Anyone who's in need.
Like every plant requires forces of nature to grow from it's seed.
Probably in every man and woman
Lies a mother, that needs to rise
To make every child fortunate enough
To be blessed with someone
Who can comfort it's nightly fears and cries.
He may not be able to bear a child,
But he can, like a mother
be strict and careful and
As well be soft and mild.
If he wants, he can, being a single father
With utmost solicitude bring up his kid
with the latent femininity in him,
Inoculating into the child an undying bravery
To walk intrepidly, every path of life that's horrid and grim.
Every mother can
Even if her womb won't permit her,
To nourish them, who have been forsaken.
She can,
When a child resting it's head on her bosom
And embracing her with it's delicate arms
Call her Ma
Feel an eternal calmness, and
The presence of a positive aura.
Let's mother everyone and everything,
As, becoming a mother is surpassing gender barriers
To bind everyone with a single string.-
The faint and pleasant bouquet
of the brightly hued petals, scattered
as if blown by wandering breeze,
for their first night.
She was, for that day, made up of
bashfulness, nervousness and a myriad of emotions together.
She was excited.
Her fingers tapping lightly on the coloured petals
as if caressing the soft pink lips of a newborn,
to feel the innocence of it's tenderness,
Waiting for him.
His arrival sent a shiver down her spine,
A concomitant burning and freezing sensation together.
She didn't understand when she gave in,
It was inadvertent yet desired and deliberate.
Which surprisingly turned into an excruciating pain.
Her whole body trembled more with shock
than with agony.
She was wet.
She was red.
She never saw him like this.
Like a monster satiating it's hunger.
Like someone trying to assuage year's uncontrolled desires.
She was empty and lifeless
Like a stone bleeding on a flower bed.
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Act of retribution is prejudiced if it interdicts social welfare.
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