Silver anklets
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O_ ma go
Ei borsha majhe
Joler shrot-e
Pa dubai re
Tora bhashe..
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Hrid-begomer
Chollo asha
Krishnochurar,
Patar por-e
Shindur anka ache..
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Hrod-er e dhar e te
Sagor- o par e te
Neel akash er
Shuk-tara,
Ami Shokuntola..
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Gaan er ei groho te
Chand melechi
Haath e makha
Amar
Neel alta..
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Sobuj e. Jibon e
Ghasher pare e te
Jibon hete jai
Ami je,
Khurai,khurai!
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-swasTIKA
clipping 1....prohor
Janla duti mele ditei,kotha hote abir –er rong er gindho boye ashe.. .. oli-te, goli-te, sorbotro jeno surjo geche pouche….. hethai akash neel…gache gache kochi sobujer obhijan.. .. …. Roder taap halka hoye gaaye lage..bheshe ashe kokil er daak…noyon tori tori khoje tare…..dekha paina tar…aj boshonto…ki,bhul bollam naki?
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Dekhoi na cheye tomar aashe pashe. Bhalo theko.
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-swasTIKA
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clipping 2....prohor
Jege uthechi punorbar..ganga er teer e ..jogot tule dhoreche abar…oi dure morichika bhashe.. nodir oi shesh prante bodhoi balu chor ache…….thik bojha jaina…upekhha korao osombhob…tai toh oi par er bhabi bonoshpoti diyeche kul ke chaya…ar nodi hoye utheche amar moton unmukh…naki kham kheyali,…..kheyal toh ashe jai……aj tule dhorlam ….
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Bhalo theko.
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clipping 3....prohor
Kamona,prarthrona,sfurti,asha,nirasha,bhangon..goron…,..,..,..koto akar he ei jibon er…kintu eto kichur majheo,ki khujitechi ami..? spriha na nishtha? Obantor na oshombhob? Sotyo na madhurjo? ….. kichui toh bujhi na…kichui toh mone hoi jeno jani na..thik ki bolte chai….ki bhabte chai….ei,ami toh sei,khamkheyali…aj o..kal o….sorbokhhon…..dhonyobad
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Ful-er gathe gathe pata mele utheche..aj dekhi ful er hote pata besi chokhe dhore……..sei,sobuj er bonge , dora kata kata pata er rekha…dhomonir rasta…alto choyai,komolota er sporsho pao..sobujer koto bibidho bidhan..dekhe aj,thekeche mone….ichhe hochhe ure jete..ichhe hochhe dana melte..bheshe jai onek dure……kintu kotha jai…kothai sei nischit thikana? Tai toh jani na! jani…mone hochhe,eto soundorjer pahar theke nistar pete chai mon…….sondorjo,ba oti soundorjo,chinta dhara k kore bodhotta-mulok…akta nirdisto kon-e atke jai mon…..tai toh aj obotoron korlam…bostro-hin choron niye ,dhuloi molin korte ……
Aj ami nemechi,jogot ke dekhte..dorshon korte …..breathe free..
-swasTIKA
Ichhe hochhe aj ektu,bhalobasha k bhalobaste…bhalobashar manush ken a hoi aj ektu nai bhalobashlam…khub khoti koi ta te?
Tai,jabo na ami aj tomar kache.. bhalobashbo..bhalobasha ke.. pore ache bichan..ami aj jabo na..oi ondhokar e..
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Sohorer koto lok ..hete geche..rasta diye keu..keu pavement dhore..~~~ korecehe rasta paar…na dhore karo haath abar. . . . .
Tram gari, bus gari, taxi-cycle, rikshaw chole jai..sara rasta jure……shanto hobe jokhon…tokhon raat tuku gorabe….
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-swasTIKA
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Footfalls.. shondhe hoye eseche..pavement er dhare dhare alo gulo jele uthche…shondhya aroti dichhe keu ei para tei..chotto bachha ta tar ma er haath tene dhore kiser jeno bayna korche….. ….. …… rasta jure bes onek e lok jon.. keu mobile e gaan sunche…taal e amar o mon dulche..
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Khosh mejaj tar aj……..ami ekla….haat-te hat-te….fuckkar gondhe choturdik mo mo korche…issh,jibhe jol eseche….troley er ghonti bajiye ice cream wala ei elo…..choto belay koto baynai nah kortam..sudu oi akta jol-ice cream er jonno……..aj kothai sei sob bayna…bhai bon der ek songe yark thatta……aj bujhi sobai khub boro hoye gechi….? Na ki mon aj khub choto hoye geche amader sobar….? Batash bhari hoye ashe j…..bari fera shomoi hoyeche…………ferrari mon….abar dekha hobe..
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-swasTIKA
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KAGOJER FUL
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Kole amar obujh
Gache pata sobuj
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Khatai rong ofuronto
Hawai pakhi uronto
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Corche nilimai ghuri
Ami haath er angul guni
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Nodite jol jhore jai
Khachar pakhi nirupai
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Bhashe kagojer ful
Kaane sonar dul
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Brishtite bheja jol
Joler tole sthol
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Ichhe aki-buki
Ja ichhe,tai kori!
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-swasTIKA
A brief intro before I proceed with my thoughts….
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“nana bhasha, nana mot, nana poridhan
Bibidher majhe dekho milon mohan”
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E toh sudhu kobider kotha.. kintu ei mohan bharotborshe, kichu shartho-onneshi cokro barongbar desher pobitro mati ke samprodayikotar bish-e lipto kore, koreche kolonkito…………….ar sei sur dhorei kobi bole gechen “eto rokto keno?”………and so we all say today…the colour of war is red…judhher rong lal……each one of us,do confront such daily news of the state of disintegration in the country, and the world….ei sokol kichui so-gothito moner kammo noi…..
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Proyat
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Gobhir joler tole jatra
Oshubho muhurter barta..
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Jeno sojore legeche manober ochoitonnotar joyar
Kono chithi purche jeno,gondho asche joyar..
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Utkonthito kajer pore mililo parisromik
Tobe bishbo-songshare k debe bhalobasha antorik..
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Jeno sobuj ghasher math prantor
Ondhokar, ondhokarei lukabe, e obantor..
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Udgrib holo prithibi,e ki bishpane
Ishbor cheye ache moder mukhpane..
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Jeno kushumer obikol dolai
Kothao mithhe ashar songsthai..
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Joshthir badhe bedhe
Sekele jai urdhhe..
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Jeno se ek jugmer jugmosmor
Monushho dhongsher ogroshor..
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Pandulipir sombhar majhe
Ke jeno ronojudhhe saje..
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Jeno dirghosthayi unnotir hoyeche iti
Diner seshe sahanto nishar giti..
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Obisram oshanto cholonai
Jeno protichhobi bheshe geche aynai..
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Ami ek cholonamoi sishu
Prodhan porajoyi somipeshu..
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-swasTIKA
I dedicate this post to my friend,aamen…who introduced me to blogging….sure enough,she was only advertising for her own blog..but still,I can’t help but thank her.. :)
As the no of school days are gradually dwindling,I use one of my posts to thank her..without whom….jus like my previous poems,the poems in my blog too,would have been lost….blogging is my way of preserving my poems..previosly I have lost around 45 of my poems,when I knew not blogging…so thanks to blogging…n Aamen(a blogger n a school-friend)..
So,heres to her…a gift :) ; )
Counting the no. of songs you have memorized
Counting the no. of times we have hi-fived…
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Counting the no. of bridal dresses short-listed
Counting the no. of ways you’re god-gifted….
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Counting the no. of days I’ve known you well
Counting the no. of times,a lizard makes you yell
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Counting the no. of times,your spit-balls attack me
Counting the no. of you pestered me for “bumble-bee”
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Counting my brother as your possible life-partner
Counting the no. of times,you speak of Taylor Lautner
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Counting the no. of school-days left….
Here I wonder,how many times,has Aamen wept?
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Count..count…count…..countless,
By the way,whatz the last count of “randomness”!?
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“”madness in school”” soon to be a closed chapter
How will I do without you,here after!?
-swasTIKA
Here in this small creation, I’ve stiched together some exquisite intricate feeling of helplessness,which might be hard for my readers to catch..because,no one other than me can view the canvas I’ve painted in my mind…which is all,that makes this poem special to me……
Its about the helplessness when one sees a child,who has just lost her mother,holding on to the last gift from her-a sibling…and the child sits..smeared in the blood of her mother…and one debates how one can gather the strength to console the child….the very short poem here,displays the pain in the mind,of not the child,but the one who sees the child….
Dusty darkness
Joler nokshai jibon badhe na
Kono kotha je aj mon-e rakhe na..
Bola kotha, jibone jotha,
Theke jabe sur-er badhon-e..
Jane tare, sur-e kande,
Aj betha, mon-e aay re..
Hawai metechi, tai jibone ekechi,
Ei bikol bichitro bidirNo chitropot:::
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Matri hara sishur kole,
Aj bedheche badhon..
Shukno hawai jhinuk dole
Shur-er taale rabon er nachon..
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Dukhho kiore choi na tare,
Parai boshe, rokte sishu
Tare haath chuibe kemone re
Shokol mon jigyasu..
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Herechi aj shokol beshe
Bareni je pa,tar nikote,
Ghuribo kotha choddo-beshe,
Sishu hetha pore,tar choukathe II
-swasTIKA
Curvature of sun-shine
The weight of the cruel pain beneath the wound,refuses to be washed away under the gushing water from the tap of the sink……..and so,I write,to let the crystallized feelings within me,melt away from my heart…..I write…to let my words vapourize like thin spirit,that tickles the nasal passage…..to let my bile churn inside the stomach,allowing the hurricane to rise……to let my thoughts be washed away by the torrential rain,under the dark clouds__and disappear like the morning mist……
Complexity is a welcome-break for me..it keeps me at ease,its like churning every single thread of thought,into a bowl of thick gravy,…..and one has to mess both hands,to wriggle out the simple……like fusing sense into non-sense…
-swasTIKA
