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Tag Archives: Counter Discourse
Nay-Ballad
From uncoiled wings of the burning swan
after sea of blood was born out of green caterpillar
that skin sheared moon from cloud’s underbelly
ordered waves to abolish horoscopes on crabs’ breasts
.
On the evergreen epiglotis of lotus full to the brim
the pollen fiddling honey bee waved her double scarf
searched for drunk village of pride red beating crowd
humming songs sleeping side by side of worried distance
.
( Translation of ‘Na-Ballad’. Written on 15 August 1999 )
A Quasi Governmental Report
Unarmed military offered prayers
One tin water is for ten rupees
.
Underground river cut off from source
Habitually disgusted because of envy
.
Strong words used for sealing border
Public Works Department has broken
.
Since at the day’s end in share market
A woman’s body cut in two with sickle
.
Postal ballot in hand amid tomato field
Lying pristine with great expectations
.
Ambitious pair of shoes for parliament
Let them say whatever face betray
.
As if rice field is scared of Tiger’s roar
Daughter of cultivator is in ministry
.
Tired cuckoo-man grieving due to son’s death
From football field corner in direct shot
.
Solved the problem of freedom movement
On the forehead of dead that was the truth
.
( Translation of ‘Ekti Adha-Sarkari Protibedan’. Written in 1996 )
The Clapper
Then set out after repeated warning the grizzly
Afghan Duryodhan
in blazing sun
removed sandal-wood blooded stone-attired guards
spearing gloom brought out a substitute of dawn
crude hell’s profuse experience
Huh
a night-waken drug addict beside head of feeble earth
from the cruciform The Clapper could not descend due to lockdown
wet-eyed babies were smiling
.
in a bouquet of darkness in forced dreams
The Clapper wept when learnt about red-linen boat’s drowned passengers
in famished yellow winter
white lilies bloomed in hot coal tar
when in chiseled breeze
nickel glazed seed-kernel
moss layered skull which had moon on its shoulder scolded whole night
non-weeping male praying mantis in grass
bronze muscled he-men of Barbadoz
pressed their fevered forehead on her furry navel
.
in comb-flowing rain
floated on frowning waves
diesel sheet shadow whipped oceans
all wings had been removed from the sky
funeral procession of newspaperman’s freshly printed dawn
lifelong jailed convict’s eye in the keyhole
outside
in autumnal rice pounding pink ankle
Lalung ladies
echo forgets to shriek back sensing the beauty of sweat’s fragrance
.
thereafter
Operation Bullshit
ulcer in mouth
numb-penis young rebel’s howl on the martyr platform
non-veg heart daubed in onion paste
black eyed flowers
drenched lotus flower suffered from pneumonia
cloud’s forced roar on a hookah smoking octogenarian train
and lightning covered with gold laced spider web
frog-maid dropped a fat toad from her back
.
creamy hell-fairy of Babylon
fed medicine tablets to north facing clouds
swirling green fireflies on castor-oil lamp
splints of songs from the crown of ruffled hair comet-face princess
swan with blood-stained feet
prayed for a spring season for the repatriated armies
who arranged green-bed farmland for the shot-dead rebel’s parents
sulphur mist spread through secret savanna of lion-skin poachers
marriageable horseman The Clapper
Heigh ho
.
suffering from angst of a little unrecognition
the garden which lifted the betel-nut palms on little finger
in long distance cyclone
below the lamppost
covered by clothes of rain
that broken gait is his form
the profile which searched for relaxing waves
the universe in tandava trance
mouth blocked with leucoplast tape inside a temple
The Clapper
.
when fire separates from smoke
within that flash
the epiglotis
feels bitter between two heart beats
feverish rebels invade through sluice-gate
palash flowers united themselves in blooming red during the cyclone
just like futureless in zoos
in the last breeze
tin-bordered clouds exploded firecrackers
as if The Clapper will appear just now
.
in the morning the sweeper gathered all clappers assembled during night
in painless love
shoved sick Ganges river in a bag
one or three colour flapping rainbow
food plates were found in graves
bone columns fell due to wails of exploiteds
nobody is happy
when asked how are you replied
fine
handed over rings of barbed wire from their waist
.
after the oath ceremony of depraved
corpse collectors started visiting towns and villages
people prayed for their right to cry
somewhere else The Clapper
in fractured health
was trying to correct the songs of birds
in star flickering darkness
pillow hugging rainy nights
fish smelling asthma of slippery catfishes in Palamou Jehanabad Rohtas districts
on the eyelids of snail-chin old woman gray dusts of salt-petre-sulpher
.
for listening to songs of small wide-eyed fishes of half rotten Hooghly river
winter’s fine moult came out of cobra-girl’s attire
suddenly a porcupine
kapok flowers in red wedding dress
young sunflower stared on the side
healthy crab danced in hot oil raising her two scarlet hands
white muslin soft fairies leaped in rice-bowl
after he wept in darkness The Clapper smiled in light
listened to the jingle of shackles with which he was tied to hospital bed
nightlong tick tock of incarceration of the table clock
.
( Translation of Bengali poem ‘Hattali’ )
Blood Lyric
Abontika, my house was invaded midnight in search of you
Not like her not like him nor like them
Comparable not to this not to that not to it
What have I done for poetry plunging into lava-spewing volcano ?
What are these ? What are these ? Result of searches at home
of Poetry ? Bromide sepia babies from Dad’s broken almirah
of Poetry ! Mom’s Benares sari torn out of hammered box
of Poetry ! Breaths are recorded in the seizure list
of Poetry ! Show me show me what else is coming out
of Poetry ! Shame on you; girl’s half-licked guy ! Die you die
of Poetry ! Wave piercing sharks chew up flesh & bone
of Poetry ! AB negative sun from small intestine knots
of Poetry ! Asphyxiated speed stored in impatient footprints
of Poetry ! Delicate tart-glow in piss flooded jail
of Poetry ! Mustard flower pollen on prickly feet of bumblebee
of Poetry ! Hungry farmer in dirty loincloth on salty dry land
of Poetry ! Rotten blood on feathers of corpse eating vultures
of Poetry ! Sultry century in faded humid spiteful crowd
of Poetry ! Black death shrieks of intelligence in guillotine
of Poetry ! You die you die you die why didn’t you die
of Poetry ! Fire in your mouth fire in your mouth fire
of Poetry ! You die you die you die you die you die
of Poetry ! Not like her not like him nor like them
of Poetry ! Comparable not to this not to that not to it
of Poetry ! Abontika, they came in search of you, why didn’t take you along !!
( Translation of Blood Lyric )
Mumbai 2011
Nail Cutting and Love
Tagore, this is for you after one fifty years :
who clipped your nails in offshore lands–
that foreign lady ? Or the chick adulators ?
There isn’t any photograph of yours with
your hands placed on laps of young ladies
cutting nails ; your feet on Ocampo’s knee ?
May be the girls on whose shoulder Gandhi placed
his wings, cut his nails. As you know, it’s so painful
to reach the nail-cutter up to one’s feet at old age–
oh, men like me without young girls for company
are aware. Love’s strange demand from senile age.
Gossipers say Sunil Ganguly did have for each nail
a struggling poetess. Joy Goswami also have had
the same ; the girls closed eyes and jumped into muck.
I’d seen Shakti Chattopadhyay’s lover clipping his nails
in the small Chaibasa room. Does Sharat do same for Bijoya ?
Yashodhara, did Trinanjan ever cut your nails ?
Subodh, have you ever took Mallika’s feet
on your lap and cut her nails ? Just a glance
at the feet of a poet tells you how lonely he is.
Think of Jibanananda ; he has been searching for
Banalata for thousand years for his nails to be cut.
( Translation of Nokh Kata O Prem )
Mumbai 2010
Immortality
Those who beat us to death after village court trial, they
did not spare you as well, Abontika ! We rotten corpses
drift in muddy Hooghly river ; what was our crime ?
You are Party boss’s wife, I am just an uncivil nobody.
There were endless praise of communism in last 33 years ;
nothing for lovers. For whose benefit were the tomes–
whatever are left of the rotten corpses of lovers remain
metamorphosed domestic bullocks yoked to grinding,
useless party-worker. Better to exude on chariot of waves
to the seas clutching each other in oceanic splendour.
( Translation of Amaratwa )
Kolkata 2006
Salt & Betrayers
You touched my sweat with your tongue
Abontika, and had said, ‘Ah salty beauty
heart of heart…scent of masculinity…’
That day, from Police custody to Court
rope tied to my waist and handcuffed
I walked along with murderers hoodlums;
circus loving crowd on both sides of road.
The betrayers, who volunteered in
court to testify against me, said, when
they came down from witness-box, ‘No,
the sweat was sweet and not salty ; thus
no question of treachery could arise–
and should not be marked as Betrayers.’
( Translation of Noon O Nimakharami )
Kolkata, 2005
The Spam Mistress
This is interesting ! In a flash you entered my desktop with mail
topless polygirl your smiling invite for a black night fling
The hungry wolf in me looks at Baudelairian dark Venus.
In funny English you’ve written on your belly you love me
princess Africa hooker girl exposed trapdoor for love
adorable soft thighs. What’s that, colour or blood on shaman-nails ?
Which country are you from, mischief-sissy ? Kenya Uganda
Zambia Burkina Faso Congo Cameroon Sudan Niger ?
I am sure you’ve ganged up in Mumbai’s Nijerwadi.
How did you know I have never slept with an African chick !
Delightful to say the least your lighted lap sex appeal
you know quite well . That’s why invite for an embrace.
How many Rupees or Dollars for that experience
you haven’t indicated ; just a call to meet at Meera Road
Junction, where you’ll descend in flesh from digital beauty.
( Translation of Spam Premika )
Mumbai 2009
Green Godchild
Oh, so you are the divine beauty I read about
in adolescence, whom Toulouse Lautrec, Rimbaud,
Verlaine, Baudelaire, Van Gogh, Modigliani et all
held on to waist curvature and took flights to
healing sweetness of inebriated light
blazing hallucinatory juice of green lichen
on the coloured thighs of sizzling dance girls
who broke rhythms and picked up their
contorted feelings on paper or canvas
At De Wallen crowds in Amsterdam
wide mouth I ogle at almost naked
showcased blonde dark brown ladies
sourced from all over the world
pink halo tinkling in semi-dark rooms
twenty minutes fixed missionary style.
I count Euros in my pocket and switch
to the old controversy of form versus content :
which generates more happiness and how
is Absinthe different from others ?
The guide retorts, ‘Why don’t you sleep
yourself and see semen turning green !’
( Translation of Sobuj Devkanya )
Amsterdam, 2007
Love Returns or Love Does Not Return
Saw you Abontika squatting on a milestone in gracious moonlit midwinter
your back and chest still carrying 44 year old dust and dry grass
wale mark of rashes all over your body due to moon’s crime, aha, result of peity
you were shivering may be due to a vortex of hookworm in abdomen
your ivy strand golden hair flowed down your shoulders up to waist
seated on the signstone completely naked on third day of November
guides of death in guise of mosquitoes sang Death Metal around your head
you do not remember the last lover who deserted you at this place.
I said, ‘Abontika, do you still possess the 9mm pistol
with which you had killed me ?’
Waving your Naxal hand you brought down the pistol from air and
emptying all bullets on my chest you said,’Ya, here it is !’
I scooped out 44 year old bullets from my chest and placed on your invisible hand–
You said, ‘That’s good, we shall meet again Comrade.’
( Translation of Prem Pherey Pherey Naa )
Mumbai 2009
Malay Roychoudhury's Poetry of Dissent Translated from Bengali to English. 