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'thjatra-রথযাত্রা

 
রথযাত্রা
 
গঙ্গাধর বাবুর সঙ্গে
যেতাম রথের মেলায়।
কোনো একটা চারা কিনে,
ফিরতাম বিকেল বেলায়।

মনে আছে, ছোটবেলায়,
রথযাত্রার দিনে,
সাজানো হতো রথ গুলোকে,
রঙিন কাগজ কিনে।
 
তিন ঠাকুরকে বসিয়ে মাঝে,
টানা হতো রথ।
রাসবিহারীর ফুটপাত দিয়ে,
যাওয়া-ফেরার পথ।
 
মোম্বাতি বা প্রদীপ রথে
জ্বালানো হতো যখন,
কাগজে কাঠে আগুন কেনো
জ্বলে উঠতো না তখন?
 
ভাই বোনেরা টানতাম মিলে
বিকেল-সন্ধ্যেবেলায়।
ছোট্টরা সব খুশি হতাম
বাত্সরিক এই খেলায়।
 
9
 

Ke`lkat'a Ai-ক্যালকাটা আই-Calcutta Eye

Below the image, there is a the link to a story in the Telegraph (India). This is  followed by a free translation of the verse into English. Then there is the Bengali original, in three forms:

• a phonetic Romanization that follows standard Bengali pronunciation;
• the Bengali script;
• a Roman transcription that follows standard Bengali spelling.

London Eye
http://topyaps.com/things-we-desperately-want-in-kolkata

http://www.telegraphindia.com/1161101/jsp/calcutta/story_116714.jsp

Calcutta Eye

When the rains come again, oh then I will ride
Upon the great wheel, with my girl at my side.
We will soar up on high, ho ho!  We will see
the city below us.  In the clouds, we will be.
Then—lightning!  Below, they will see the great flash,
and when we return, they will find that we’re ash.

2016 November 1st, Tue.
Brooklyn, New York
----------------------------------------------------------

Ke`lkat’a Ai

Bo`rxa kale corbo ami, birat' cakar sit'e.
Boxbe paxe xokhi amar, bolbe ko`tha mit'he.
Ut'hbo dujon urdhe, hoho, dekhbo xo`hor xara.
Megher majhe mixbo xexe, meghei ho`bo hara.
Nice jara, dekhbe ho`t'at, cokh-dhadhano baj.
Axbo phire xokhir xathe, jholxe jaoa lax.

Mongolbar, 1 la No`bhembo`r, 2016 Khri
Bruklin, Niu Io`rk
----------------------------------------------------------

ক্যালকাটা আই

বর্ষাকালে চড়ব আমি বিরাট চাকার সিটে৷
বসবে পাসে সখী আমার, বলবে কথা মিঠে৷
উঠব দুজন ঊর্ধ্বে, হোহো, দেখব শহর সারা৷
মেঘের মাঝে মিশব শেষে, মেঘেই হব হারা৷
নিচে যারা, দেখবে হটাৎ, চোখ ধাধানো বাজ৷
আসব ফিরে সখীর সাথে, ঝলসে যাওয়া লাশ৷

মঙ্গলবার, ১লা নভেম্বর, ২০১৬ খ্রি
ব্রুক্লিন, নিউয়র্ক 
----------------------------------------------------------

Kyālakāṭā Ā'i

Barṣākālē caṛaba āmi birāṭa cākāra siṭē.
Basabē pāsē sakhī āmāra, balabē kathā miṭhē.
Uṭhaba dujana ūrdhbē, hōhō, dēkhaba śahara sārā.
Mēghēra mājhē miśaba śēṣē, mēghē'i haba hārā.
Nicē yārā, dēkhabē haṭāṯ, cōkha dhādhānō bāja.
Āsaba phirē sakhīra sāthē, jhalasē yā'ōẏā lāśa.

Maṅgalabāra, 1 la Nabhēmbara, 2016 Khri
Brukalina, Ni'u'iẏarka

The Stain

    
The Stain
 
There was blood on the sidewalk, where a man had been killed.
It was dark but was faded, from dust and from sun.
And that stain was not noticed, except by the few,
Who had been at the killing, and had seen the man run.

But he’d tripped and he’d fallen. They’d caught him right there,
The ones who had chased him. He’d cried out in fear.
And he’d cried out again, like a cat that’s in pain,
But the cries had grown weaker, as his ending drew near.

How long he had lain there, and whether alive,
A few perhaps wondered.  But they left him to lie.
And they hid him from children, whom they ushered away.
For it’s bad for the young ones to see a man die.

And his slippers had left him, as he ran for his life.
One lay in the gutter, and the other beside.
And when he was lifted, and carried away,
They lay as a witness, like the kelp to the tide.

And when I’d returned, to the spot of the slaying,
The years had been many.  The slippers had fled.
But the stain was still present, though faded by time.
I could still hear him screaming, where his blood had run red.

2014 March 24th, Mon.
Brooklyn, New York
 

As the City Streets Burn

The month of March, as I remember it, is usually warm and sunny in Kolkata.  For the rains, that are mostly absent from September onwards, one must wait for the south-east monsoon winds that bring, to the Bengal delta, around mid-June, the dark clouds from the Bay.  Then there are the torrential downpours that last through July and part of August.  

But I have been away from Bengal for over a half-century now, so some of my memories are faded and blurred.
  
-- Orjun / Babui 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    

As the City Streets Burn

Photograph by my aunt Chandrabali Ray, as posted by her on Facebook.

Please see Chandrabali Ray's post of a plant blooming on her terrace in Kolkata.

From the morning mist and the dew of night,

We wake and we bloom, in the burning light.

And the little one flies, as our colors and scents

Are the signals she seeks, with her insect-sense.

She alights for a moment, and she sips of our sweet,

And we gift her with pollen, in our manner discreet.

And off then she flies, with our gift on her side,

And we’re glad that it’s getting that aerial ride.

And she ‘lights in a while, again, on our twin,

And then there is sex, which is hardly a sin.

And then there is life – that will wait for its turn,

As we bloom on the terrace, as the city-streets burn.

2014 March 24^th, Mon.

Brooklyn, New York