ALLEGIANCE
God appeared at midnight, and begged me
I gave Him a fistful of rice, and in lieu asked for his sympathy
You shall have it, He said, for once utter – I love you
I stared at His face in wonder –
The Almighty, seeking love
when the whole world is eager to offer him their love!
His eyes profound and tranquil –
smile at the corner of His lips;
No one loves God, said He
everyone just craves, and shouts – Give! Give!
I am tired.
Not food, not shelter, not opulence,
I want unconditional love, I want allegiance…
Wanting to hold his hand
I advanced with hesitation–
Right then, clouds clashed, the sky dazzled
a radiance filled all round me, and amidst pouring rain
the door closed
Since then, I have been alone
Alone – in love with God…
************
THE KNOT
Words resurfaced after a long drawn hush
None of us wanted to know, why this silence
why love happened at all
or why we parted ways!
Bubbles do not die; they float with the current
at times calm, at times turbulent
No matter how near or far Krishna plays his flute
Radha shall always err in her steps
Illusion knots us all – you, me
We chant Krishna’s name in secrecy
yet search for Radha in our fancy
knowing fully well, Rukmini isn’t Radha.
***********
QUEST
No specified love for me,
no clichéd lifestyle; I don’t fancy walking to rhyme or rhythm
There lurks inside this mind a wandering minstrel…
Many a times did I hit the streets, dreaming to be an anchorite
walked highways or country roads
trying to transcend boundaries for the infinite,
searched inside my bloodstream for the oarsman of an abandoned sailboat
who would take me for sea bathing,
Or some all-forsaken ascetic, who has no bonds
who, like me, has embarked on a quest for God…
Or perhaps that mountain girl who walks down the winding road
Even as she climbs, up her smile- like the gateway to heaven…
I too, like her, wanted to reserve
a slice of sunlight at the corner of my lips,
Yet all routes seem to ashen and dissolve at one central point,
no matter how many times I try to break free
each time darkness descends, the stairs appear unknown, the roads too…
Aimlessly I dash, groping continually
in quest of a road…
*************
Academic and writer Bitasta Ghoshal is currently the director and CEO of Kolkata based publisher Bhasha Samsad. In learning from our colleagues at The Antonym about the important cultural and literary work currently carried out by that publication house, especially through translation, I would like to share with our readers the description from their webpage about how the company came to be and its current status.
About Bhasha Samsad