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Who will take me*

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Breaking the key to my home, who wilt take me
O friend mine!
Without seeing thou, canst live life so lone;

Perhaps the night has ended
Perhaps the sun has sent rays,
Thy soft pinkish morning's glow
On the sky blue how doth show-
There can see the path ahead,
Wilt not thy chariot reach my door?

All those stars of the sky
How stare momentless
As they beside the night
and dawn's path take rest,
Seeing thou they wilt leaving all
Into the luminous sea take a fall;

All those pilgrims of the morn
Perhaps they have come like birds-
Singing songs of mirth, in flocks,
Perhaps the flower has bloomed,
Perhaps the music has arisen
In thy lyre of the sky ( of this season).

( * Note: it is a transliteration of a song of Rabindranath Tagore, as can be found in collected works, birth centenary edition, page 22, volume four.
This transliteration is my humble tribute to the greatest poet, philosopher of all times)


How many times have I thought*

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How many times have I thought
To feet thine should've my heart brought, Holding thy feet, friend mine, will express
How much do I love thee in secret, Thought as Thou hath been the God of Heaven
How could a mere mortal like me say my love even, Thought will live at a distance from thee
All through my life will just remain a devotee, No one wilt know my love so deep
No one wilt see where my tears me keep, Now today whence Thou hath arrived to ask
How can I say how much Thou do I love. ( * Note: it is a transliteration of a song written by Rabindranath Tagore, included in  ' প্রেম ও প্রকৃতি ' / Love and Nature section of his collected works, volume four, birth centenary edition, page 675.
The transliteration is my humble tribute to Tagore, the greatest poet, philosopher of all times )
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Without You where doth lie
The destination of my love?
Had you been not there
Where would have found I
The words of my longings
My songs, my harp, Love mine?

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How beautiful is it
To see rain and dew
Resting quite on leaves
And blooms, greet new
(The day) as it wakes up and sees
Impearling poesy carried by the breeze...

Birsa *

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From Ulihatu's sand and dust
How you worked , You the beauty of this soil,
Working under scorching heat , a crop sharer,
Of that colonial Bihar,
A mere ryot ( raiyyat), grazing sheep in other hours,
A tuila in hand,
And wandered perhaps in the forest of Bohonda,
Had you been also struck
By the flowering forest in spring?
Had you played your tuila and flute too?
( as folklores around you sing) Now after so many years, when
That colonial discriminatory rule
Is still found in our country ,
When still the tribals are thrown away
From a college or university,
When still a girl from a remote village,
Can't find a place in the admission register,
Because she is just an offspring
Of a santhal family , or a munda, When Rohith Vemula and others Had to face discrimination Because they were termed ' non- bhakts',
How we are reminded, you had
To go through the same, Had then, your revolt, all went in vain? ( * Note: today being the birthday of Birsa Munda, one of the pioneers…

O Thou the beauty of dusk...

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Whence doth I look up at thou
O you the beauty of the dusk,
How am  I filled with the pervading sense
Of only wonder and astonishment...

~ Moinak

( my fb newsfeed is full of pictures of the sky here at kolkata today . I am sharing just two from my friends here. Two beautiful persons , keen photographers , Abhijit Roy and Mrinmoy Pratihar da. )

One music, One song

Can't recall exactly on what day or hour
Did I turnup at thy side
It must have been early days of autumn
And there must have been no high tide,A soft pinkish glow must have been
Colored thou with a silky brush
The hour would have been  perfect too
To look at you as you blushed,I looked at the scene quiet
And the sky so wonderous
A tranquil feel and serene sight
How turned me suddenly pious,Was that my religious self
Or was it the irreligious one
Which found only humane heart
And a floating white so white a swan?I did not know what was it
The rivery flow or the beauteous morn
But I felt there are ways always
To go rhyming with a soulful song,It was such a musical rise
That I could not hold myself
I just thought and surmised
That there are songs  to delve,Within one's heart true and synced
With whatever happening outside
Sitting at the bank of the river
I just felt more and more quiet,And the river how kept on flowing
Murmuring, singing a form of a verse
The splendid poetic hour…

The poem for birthday

Whatever happened in other births, let that not matter
This time I am born as the taper
On the day of diwali,
The little candle too
Turned myself into sparkling dots
In the hands of children,
Blew the rockets up and away
Above those seven or ten storied buildings
Even if you don't believe come to the street
You will find me there in verandahs
Or you can climb to any terrace
And find me how with me a girl
Lighting up the stars one by one ...{ the poem is transliteration  of a poem titled ' Janmadiner kobita' (জন্মদিনের কবিতা) by Joy Goswami }