No Matter

 
No Matter
 
There’s rarely justice in this life on Earth.
The Buddha said, “We suffer, right from birth.”
So every pleasure leads in time to pain—
And every joy to sorrow, once again.
 
So those with conscience left may speak and then
Be punished. So it's been, with the best of men
And women. Caring, labor rarely win
Their just rewards. The world is mired in sin.
 
And neither is there a hell or a heaven, friend,
That waits for us. When life is at its end,
Oblivion is—and there the matter stands,
As far as this one kens and understands.
 
******
 
No matter! We are born—to laugh and cry,
And then in time to age and then to die,
At times before our times, so some may weep—
And realize that life is not to keep.
 
No matter! Precious still, this little time!
And so, I'd end my little nonsense rhyme—
But wait! I'll slow—and sip of life a while
And raise my glass to end it with a smile.
 
To every friend or foe who's crossed my way,
I raise a toast and from my heart I say,
“I wish you joy—and though there might be woe,
You'll bend and mend, and smile and let it go.”
 
2022 October 26^th, Wed.
Brooklyn, New York

 

Boyhood in Kolkata

Boyhood in Kolkata
 
My childhood was untroubled. Calm in mind,
Though often ill in body, I absorbed,
As children do, the cultures all around—
The near ones more, the far ones less—and yet,
When still a child, I felt a growing sense
Of some detachment. I could see the plays
In which the humans seemed to act, in roles
With which they seemed to merge their inner selves.
And these, I sensed, were really all the same—
For humans, dogs and cats—and ants and trees.
 
For reasons still unclear to me, I had
Begun reflecting—perhaps when I was ill
And so alone, with time enough to think—
And being also lacking then in drives
For recognition, power or other things—
And seeing also, in the city’s mire,
How people suffered, while, above the streets,
The clouds rose high and sailed across the blue—
As seasons came and seasons went in turn—
As beings did, who acted out their plays.
 
2022 October 25^th, Tue.
Brooklyn, New York

  

Ro'tno-রত্ন

 
রত্ন
 
অধৈর্য্যতা, তাড়াহুড়ো, দৌড়।
বাণিজ্যের, উচ্চাশার চাপ।
এই পরিবেশে, স্থিরতা যেনো
চরম মন্দ পাপ।
 
তবুও দয়া-মায়া, তবু রেহাই।
তবুও সুখের বাঁশি।
বন্ধু-স্বজন, মধুর মিলন।
চমকে, মুখের হাসি।
 
মরুভূমির তাপের মাঝে,
শীতল জলের কূপ।
বাইরে কত চ্যাঁচামিচি,
অন্তরে তাও চুপ।
 

যত অন্ধ বোকামি,

তত সূক্ষ্ম বুদ্ধি।

ঘোর নোংরামির রাজে,
বেঁচে রয়েছে শুদ্ধি।
 
কত রকমের অবহেলা,
কত ধরনের যত্ন।
সংসারের জঞ্জালের মাঝে,
কুড়িয়ে পেয়েছি রত্ন।
 
কাড়াকাড়ি, হিংস্রতা, অত্যাচার।
ব্যাথা, দুঃখ, নিরাশা।
এই আঁধারেও, সাহসের আলো
জাগিয়ে রেখেছে আশা।
 
সোমবার, ২৪ অক্টোবর, ২০২২ খ্রি.
ব্রুক্লিন, নিউ ইয়র্ক
 

No'mo, no'mo-নম, নমঃ-Reverence

 

The English translation follows the Bengali original below.

____________________________________________________

নম, নম:
 
বাড়িতে বসে, গেছি যেনো ম'জে।
দেহ মন দুই দুর্বল।
মনে চিন্তা আসে, বুকে ভীতি।
না মরেও, মরি বারে বারে।
 
সন্ধ্যের আগে বেরোতে পারলে, দেখি
আকাশে আলোর লীলা।
গাছ উঠেছে সূর্যের খোঁজে।
মাটিতে ছড়ানো পাতা।
 
মৃদু মৃদু বইছে ঋতুর হাওয়া।
গালে তার শীতল হাত।
মনে মনে ‘নম, নমঃ’ ব'লে,
নত মাথা তুলি আবার।
 
মানুষ, খেটে রোজগার করে।
বেড়ে চলেছে দাম।
তবুও, চিত্তের সেরা খোরাক
ফাউতে পাওয়া যায়।
 
বুধবার, ১২ অক্টোবর, ২০২২ খ্রি.
ব্রুক্লিন, নিউ ইয়র্ক
____________________________________________________
 
Reverence
 
Stuck at home, it seems I am decayed—
Enfeebled both in body and in mind.
The mind is filled with worries, the heart with fear—
The thousand deaths, it seems, of cowardice.
 
If I can venture out before the dusk,
I see the play of light across the sky,
The upward thrusts of trees that seek the sun,
The leaves of autumn strewn upon the ground…
 
The breeze of autumn blows, at times, and I
Can feel its touch upon my neck and cheek.
I utter words of reverence and then
I straighten up and raise my head again.
 
We humans slave to earn our sustenance.
The price of everything is going up.
But should we then forget that the best of foods
For heart and soul are freely still dispensed?
 
2022, October 12, Wed.
Translation into English: Oct. 13
Brooklyn, New York

Virtues-2022 October

 
Virtues (2022 October)
 
We rarely hear, in the media,
Or even homes or schools,
About the virtues. Those who dwell
On these are seen as fools.
 
And yet, throughout our history,
However torched with grief
From humans harming humans, these
Were part of our belief.
 
What substitutes for decency—
For being of help when needed,
For being honest, diligent,
Attentive, brave—and patient?
 
Knowledge helps—and ignorance
Impedes, but wisdom’s art
Consists of seeing deeper, through
the “sights” of mind and heart.
 
It does not matter “who” we are—
Our “races”, faiths or creeds—
The wealth we have or lack of it.
What matters are our deeds—
 
And also words—that issue from
The feeling and the thought.
Our words and deeds are shaped by these,
Informed by what we’re taught,
 
Combined with “instincts” that we have –
Capacities within—
That grow, as we discern and act,
And lead to “good” or “sin”.
 
******
 
Fear and anger, love and hate,
Fairness and compassion—
Hunger in its many forms,
And greed and lust and passion—
 
These rise from drives and feelings that
We all possess—and need.
But there’s a range and balance, which
We each should sense—and heed.
 
When anger lasts and turns to hate,
Or hunger turns to greed—
When fear becomes anxiety, then
It’s time to pause the “feed”.
 
Awareness of ourselves is what
Is often dulled, neglected.
What others “are” should also be
Discerned—and then respected.
 
And that is where a discipline,
That’s gentle, serves as well.
This helps to curb excesses, when
We’re deaf to the warning bell.
 
An infant throws its tantrums. So
It gets, perhaps, its way.
An older child should realize
That others too have say.
 
And here again, the virtues, which
Were listed at the start,
Can guide us in the words and deeds
That come from mind and heart.
 
2022 October 11, Tue.
Brooklyn, New York
 

Here and Now

 
Here and Now

There’s east and west and north and south
And then there’s where we are. 
From all of these, we each can learn—
From near as well as far.

To learn is good—but knowledge won’t
Replace our eyes and ears.
We need the open mind and heart,
Embracing smiles and tears.

******

The past is gone and won’t return. 
The future’s still not here.
And then there is this present time, 
In which we disappear.

For if we dwell within this now,
There is no you or I—
Nor other. There is only this—
This flow we can’t deny.

****** 

The past and future call. We hear—
Remaining, centered, still. 
In pleasure or in pain, we breathe— 
And drink, of now, our fill.

So also with the east and west—
And all the zones of mind.
It’s only here that we can be— 
And hell or heaven find.

2022 October 6th., Thu.
Brooklyn, New York

The Madness

The Madness

We humans think so highly of ourselves—
And yet we trap ourselves in madnesses 
Of various sorts—and some are recognized 
And others not—as each in turn is praised

And then reviled and cast aside—and then
Revived, in force, to blight our lives again. 
We recognize a body's illness, but 
Ignore or serve collective madnesses. 

****** 

The quest for money drives the world we’ve made.
It rules our lives and colors all we see.
Our minds are trained to function through its rules—
And those who can’t or won’t are seen as fools.

To question this pursuit is heresy.
Some shed religion, only to adopt
This faith in money. Mammon rules on high
And governs what we think and say and do.

****** 

And who can blame the ones who play the game
And find in wealth and all it yields no shame—
Or those, for whom the cash they slave to earn
Is what sustains their selves and those they love?

But could the rules and so the play be changed 
To ease the lives of humans under stress—
And save our species from the fate that we
Have sent so many others to, in haste?

****** 

The world of Nature isn’t filled, we see,
With love and peace alone; these do exist—
Along with predators that stalk their prey,
And parasites that feed upon their hosts.

We humans are a part of Nature, so
There is, in us, a mix of all these things.
We still have power, though, to bend our lives
Towards what is sane—or towards insanity.

****** 

Some say, “The world is what it was and is—
And always will be. Let it go its way
And mind your business. Tend to self and kin
Or find your peace by seeking what’s within.”

But others say “The tides that rage and flow
Are made by humans, who’ve been led astray.
Unless this madness ends—this wild stampede—
Our kind, like others, will be swept away.”

****** 

The ones who halt—or slow too much—within 
A charging crowd are trampled under foot—
Until awareness spreads and one by one
We slow the race and so the spreading blight.

I’ve found no answer to the issues raised,
Nor any means to ease the plight we’re in. 
I only ask that humans recognize
This illness grave—that blights the world we’re in.

2022 October 2nd, Sun.
Brooklyn, New York