Sunday, March 07, 2010


Aei aache, aei neyi, hai re je jona
Kano shikole baandhe taare bhabhish aapona
Chayare ki kobhu bolo dhore raakha jaaye.

Aaha re bidhigo tor leela bojha daaye
Je udiya baedaaye taare bandhish khanchaaye
She je ude jaye, ude jaaye, jaaye jaaye, jaaye jaaye.

Kintu mon je jete dite chayena taake. Ude hoyeto she jaabe kono din - aar shedin hoyeto taare aar dhore rakha jabena. Kintu diner por din, raater por raat, taake aaro jore aankde dhore rakhte ichche kore. Ete kaar ki dosh bolo - paakhi chaye ude jeete, khancha chaaye dhore rakhte. Pakhi ke to khancha hote bola cholbena. Khanchakeyo paakhi hote bola cholbena.

Bhebe dekhle obaak laage - kikore je khancha hoye gelam sheta jaanteyi parlam na. Hote aashole cheychilam onno kichu. Ki? Hoyeto ekta poth, kimba ehta kolom ba ekta paata. Paata ta hote paarle moteyi mondo hoto na - besh haoar shaate ude ude baedatam. Kintu tomake pete hobe bole, ki hote cheychilam sheta bhuliye dite holo. Aar taar pore, tomake aatke rakhte hobe bole, khancha hote holo.

Tomake jete dewa cholbena. Tumi je aamaake bishesh bhabe jaano. Temni kore aar keu janena. Bhishon bhoye kore je aekbaar jodi tumi chole jaao tahale tomake aar phire pabona. Kapurush manush to - bhoye theek aamar shojjo hoyena.


Y va liviano
Mi corazón gitano
Que solo entiende de latir a contramano
No intentes amarrarme, ni dominarme
Yo soy quien elige, como equivocarme

Aprovechame que si llegué ayer
me puedo ir mañana
Que soy gitana
Que soy gitana

Nilanjana stared at the blank canvas resting on the easel. She could see the dust that had settled on it, shining in the morning sunlight. Paint-caked brushes lay scattered on the floor in a corner. She stared blankly at his worn out sandals. They were lying at the side of the bed. He lay curled up in an entangled mess on the bed, as if he was fighting a war with the sheets. The ceiling fan was making a periodic drone. The morning sunlight had crept onto his right upper arm. There were a few truant hair strands there, standing up shapeless and drunk.

He stirred slowly, pulling another pillow from the side to under his right leg. She saw his sleepy movement carve the space around him in light and shadow. His pyjamas moved up as he folded his legs. She knew exactly how the skin on his bare knees wrinkled when he bent his legs. She was intimately acquainted with the salty texture of those wrinkles. Once the way in which they folded space and time in them, was a source of fascinating mystery for her. Now, it was too easy to read them. Even the brush strokes she used to draw them, seemed practiced and tired.

He open his eyes, catching her blurred, glowing form in his first waking sight. He could smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen. A smile broke on his lips. "Ah! You know me too well."

I do, don't I. That I am afraid, will not do.


Note: The Bangla lyrics are from a song from the movie Palatak, sung by Pankaj Mitra. The Spanish lyrics are from the song Gitana by Shakira.

1 comment:

  1. i like your soul.
    hit us up.
    lets talk life