Monday, July 11, 2011

The unknown man on River Padma-

He is the man with jet black eyes and one week old stubble.
The main protagonist of a story unpublished.
He is the man who Tagore wrote about when he said-
..."I am listless,
I am a wanderer in my heart.

... I forget,
I ever forget,
that the gates are shut everywhere
in the house where I dwell alone!"

He is the man in this loneliness of a town who no one much knows about

Emilybari on the farthest shores of Sunderbans
The salty evenings of this humid place comes to an end on his windows.
Slowly in his spotless Bangla he writes-

"Shondha'r aalo jaino raat pohalo..
Aashbe je raati
diner bhayakranto moner
sheyi robe aashol shathi.."

Translated- "As the evening dies it feels like
the night has come to an end,
for the fearful in me
has the night as a real friend."

They call him Calcutta Man
Though he has been living here in the Sunderbans for twelve years now
He knows them all but none of them know him.
He has hundred and two poems and countless stories which no on shall ever read.

And now in the midst of an all too quiet night
he walks up to the river Padma as he has been doing everyday
and thinks how it reminds him of faces
that he knew a lifetime ago,
when he sat down with her by Hoogly
and they talked about traversing through the river,
the places he lived and moved away from
and how the world moves
but the night and the river stays with him in time.
And how no one else does

And then he walks back after hours
in the swaying misty winds of nights
he looks back one last time at her,
the river thinking of how it has been alone there for centuries
and how many infinite people have looked at her.
But never- never can anyone look at you like me
Nor can they make love to you as I do.

He walks away
thinking of
life and roads and city
and salt pepper lips and brown eyes and nothing.
He smiles
he does not want anything else
but the 'Now' that he possesses here
and perhaps just perhaps .. Her.

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