Thursday, 6 March 2008

Dreams....

Those dreams lie wantonly scattered like islands through my beaten course;
apart afar, I gaze on, while destiny denies a reunion anymore.
Once the delicacy of childhood ruled with its spontaneity and yearning to dream;

an innocent mind went on exploring newer world with promising cascades it carried along and novel dreams endlessly surfaced on its crest.
With life defraying its days, nights, time and voids here,
I float unmoving in a tranquil small bay, and, I float on to feel some delightful moments of momentum in a seemingly monotonous recurrence of tides and ebbs only.
Aboard a motionless boat, I take refuge to my eternal leisure;
and, somewhere deep within, it aches alike an enduring old pain,
it weeps for losing those fond dreams forever!
Maybe, time will toil more to trudge me a little further before life offers itself at the sacrificial altar of a vast expanse of ocean.
Maybe, once more, wishes would roam around to get a glimpse of that ancient path that I had traversed for years.
Perchance, our eyes would meet for a while or never.
I know not, if a sailor would lose way ever to moor his boat on one such island ! Perhaps, once in ceaseless future, he would !
Perhaps, he would enjoy some anxious moments of losing way;
maybe, I know not, if he would ever carry that native smell of its clammy soil before set sailing again.
Perhaps, I know not !


[ This is a transliterated copy---the original one was written in Bengali on New Year morning this year ]
Here it goes...........( can be better viewed in enhanced zoomed scale... )



1 comment:

  1. saibal,

    i read this many times yesterday
    and many time today too..
    the more i read it seems the poem becomes more hidden to me..
    whatever it reveals is much much more then it hides.. I have been using online dictionaries too...
    seems i cant break to irs cose...

    And again it attracts me to the original bengali verses...

    There is something about this language i feel

    I dont want to use any superlative appreciations to bound this poem..

    Thanks for sharing though :)

    ReplyDelete

Youth

For years they have been there--stoically oblivious To the world slipping out of time--caged in the dungeon of Down-shelves in my library...