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Krishna Muhammad and my wife

I looked at her in a way as if she was my Geeta.
She looked at me as if I was a part of her Qur'an.
My eyes started sparkling and her eyes did glitter,
because all Gods were happy for this religious shun.

She celebrated each day of my Durga Puja and I happily celebrated her Eid.
We were slowly planting a non religious tree,
where I was the water and she was the seed.
I crossed her Mosque by keeping my hands open,
she visited my temple, keeping her hands closed.
There was nothing to be ashamed of, we thought;
because we weren't creating a juxtapose.

I didn't feel the need to see whether she was a Khoja, Bohra, Sunni or Shia.
I guess that was my flaw, and my only hamartia.
I didn't need to see whether she had a hijab on her head or kept it open,
because that was totally her decision;
a moral one and was not at all my pain.

She too didn't feel the urge to ask whether I am a Shudra, Kshatriya or a Brahmin,
because her thoughts were very open and high, and was not at all…
Recent posts

The 70 years Old Man...

Seventy!
It is not just a number, you see.
Rather these numbers mark the soul which is free.
Free from being bullied,
because I am brown.
I was bullied by the white people,
who has the Kohinoor on the Crown.

I was not the only one though, to see the torture;
because I myself heard my brother to murmur,
the pain he was going through that day.
How helpless I felt because I had nothing to say.
We didn't forget the date when our bond got lost;
till date, we are both, paying the cost.

Well, I personally did achieve a lot.
Till now I cry and wonder how my babies fought
in Kargil and secured me from other fights,
I still remember the formation of Constitutional Rights.
I still remember how badly I got terrified,
when the Emergency period got me petrified.
My this very brown skin was crowned in Miss World and Miss Universe.
I went to the moon and back,

and also succeeded in touching the Mars.
I suffocate all the time
because of the pollutions caused by the cars.
The tsunami, earthquake and gas …

It's Golden Brown...

In my country
I am treated so well,
that there is not a single moment
I thought of staying under the veil.

Whenever I went to shop for my meal;
they always offered the dual combo deal.

But I didn't want the combo,
rather something which would fit my diet.
Diet that would make me look thin and smart;
though that wasn't my real appetite.

But I had to change my taste,
because society taught me that is what is best;
for me, for her and for all our fat ladies out there.
Else people will talk for wearing dresses, which are partially bare.
So, you see the amount of love that I get,
and mind you, this is not body shaming.

Because right from my childhood
I have been taught
that it is cute if someone is naming.
Naming that hurts you the most,
and makes you realise that beauty also comes with a cost.

But what about Jane?
My friend, who is insane,
and is always busy buying cosmetics;
because for her, it is more important to flaunt her aesthetics.
Because without those products, she feels tha…

A lost Friend...

I lost a friend of mine
at the age of nine.
A friend who was as if, carrying my blood. Still now my memories do flood
with all the moments, penned down by us. He got lost, because of a single fuss. A fuss that started way back,
when his parents heard him cry.
Asked him to stop, on his very first day,
because crying is not what he should try.
His parents' belief that tears would make him weak,
actually made him weaker instead.
It didn't matter now if he got beaten up, or got sick;
he still wouldn't cry, even if his face become red. No one actually said to him that crying wasn't bad,
it's actually letting your emotions flow when you are sad.
The mistake we made by not knowing what real feminism is,
put up a huge burden of responsibilities on those little shoulders of his.
The shoulders that cracked up, because of those huge responsibilities.
Lying weak at night but standing strong in the morning, was one of his abilities.
Or perhaps, that was the only ability he had;
because the rest g…

An unconditional love

We don't always want someone who would always love.
Sometimes we want some one to scold us,
and hold our silly selves together.
Someone who would guide us how to curve
the path of our life without a fuss.
And will catch us even when we are falling like a feather.

They will give the blow of support..
Teach us how to fly..
My family, but he isn't my dad, she isn't my mother.
Sometime their words are as sharp as a sword,
especially when someone is rude and sly.
Though not by being our parents, because she is my sister and he, my brother.

They didn't give me birth..
But looked after me ever since..
Been there beside me with the promise of forever...
With them, I didn't feel dearth
of love, as they always rinse
all the negativity and didn't let them come back again ever.

Their promises were unsaid...
They silently take care of my heart's province..
They make my dumb self clever...
How kind that God really made
them for me, since
they really did savour
my stuffs.

Rakhi abstract

সমাজের দূর্গা

নারী কোনটা বাড়ী তোর?
বাপের টা, শ্বশুরের টা, নাকি বাজারের ওই মোড়?

যেখানে চলে ছিলো তোর ধর্ষণ, সহ্য করে ছিলিস পৈশাচিক জোর,
ছিড়ে ছিলো তোর মাংস পিন্ডগুলো কে; শুয়ে ছিলো গায়ের উপর।
রক্ত যেখানে গড়িয়ে পড়ছিল যোনি থেকে তোর পায়ে,
ভিড় থেকে কেউ হাত দিয়ে ছিলো,তোর ওই নগ্ন গায়ে।

এখনো মা দূর্গার প্রতিমা যেখানে পায় স্থান,
ঠিক সেখানেই না হয়ে ছিলো তোর ওই রক্তাক্ত স্নান?
আজ পর্যন্ত মায়ের আরতি হয় যেখানে,
চিবিয়ে ছিলো বুকটা তোর, সবাই কিন্তু সেখানে।
কেউ দেখেছিলেন তোর যোনি কে হতে রক্তাক্ত,
কেউ বা তোর সুডৌল স্তন দুটি কে, যদিও এরা ঠাকুরের 
বড় ভক্ত।
যেখানে হাঁটছিলিস খুড়িয়ে খুড়িয়ে, নিজের বস্র কুড়োতে,
মায়ের ভোগ কিন্তু খাচ্ছিলো ওখানেই, পাড়ার সব বুড়োতে।
যেখানে দূর্গা প্রতিমা দাঁড়ায় বুক চিতিয়ে, অসুরকে হারিয়ে,
সেই বুক-ই ছিড়ে দিয়েছিলো অসুরেরা, চলে গিয়েছিলো এক দূর্গা কে মাড়িয়ে।

তোদের আসলে কিছুই নেই,
ওহ্ না আছে তো, যোনি, নিতম্ব, স্তন,
কিন্তু সমাজের ব্যর্থতায় সেগুলো ও যে আজ আর তোদের নয়,
সবই হয়ে দাঁড়িয়েছে আজ ধষর্কদের ধন।


তাই না?

~ দেবজিৎ চক্রবর্তী