Five Poems by Himangshu Prasad Das
Translated by Looky P Deka
Fire
Fire!
He was crying loud.
Even seeing the devouring blaze
I didn't go and doused some water.
No one did.
It was his house that was burning, not us.
Alone,
He couldn't quench the thirst of the fire
Now, the unquenched river of the fire
is knocking at my door.
Vomiting blood I am crying now
'Fire!'
No one is coming to me with some water
No one
Alone,
I can't quench the thirst of the fire
Buddha
After a really busy office day
An exhausted Buddha comes home
Like a adroit Guerrilla
Buddha markets on credit
From shop after shop.
Buddha argues with one of them
His credits are long unpaid
The disappointed shopper refuses
To provide him grocery anymore
Returning from the office
Exhausted Buddha drinks tea
Moves through the lines of the daily
Suddenly the hawker's face comes to his mind
Oh! If not paid tomorrow
The daily will be stopped too
Shaking all worries off
Buddha watches Television
He is fond of the regional shows.
Meanwhile his son comes
And Buddha gets busy with his studies
His wife reminds him of the son's fees,
Her sister's wedding gift
And the donation of the cultural night
Dazed Buddha thinks of doing night shift
Reads Dale Carnegie to strengthen mind
Buddha goes to his wife at night
She weeps
She weeps with all her unhappiness
She wants a fridge
Huge TV
Car
Everything the neighbors have
Why should they not!
An insomniac Buddha baffles between the
truth
'Being unmarried is being alive'.
In such a pensive night
Buddha breaks all the chains with them
And leaves home to get a life of his own
Searching for peace and truth,
Buddha disappears
Buddha couldn't reach the Bodhi tree
Excess cheap wine killed him
A helpless Buddha couldn't acquire the
enlightenment
N.B.: Whatever he told later on
Was not the pages of the Tripitaka
Were the unwritten stories of a sick world
Spring
New leaves sprout everywhere
In my bones
In my heart
Here, there, everywhere
Goodbye!
Oh passing cold
Goodbye!
You were like my sweet sixteen
You were like the first kiss
of my love
You are not something
that can be tasted
You are not a painting
that can be painted
You are not a song
that can be sung
Please do come
And make me bleed
Please hit me with love
And make me bleed
Reality
Yesternight
She was dressed in blue
And she looked very happy
When woken up
She saw herself coloured in yellow
But blue was her favourite colour
Love
At the very moment you stood by me
I realized how lonely I was before!
Just one breathe of you
Sucked the whole of my pains
You hugged the lost spring of mine
And brought it back to life
You made me so rich in love
That I could have turned into lordly.
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