Famine and After

For days and days the hearth stayed cold, the handmill quiet
For days and days the one-eyed bitch slept nearby
For days and days lizards paced on the wall
For days and days rats too were miserable

Grain came to the house after many a day
Smoke rose above the courtyard after many a day
The eyes of the household shone after many a day
The crow scratched its feathers after many a day.

'Akal aur uske bad'

Harvest

Not one,
Not two.
It is the miracle of the waters of many rivers.

Not one,
Not two,
It is the inherent quality of the earth of a thousand fields.

What is harvest?

It is not anything else:
The magic of the waters of rivers,
The glory of the touch of hands,
The innate attribute of the brown-black-red earth,
The transmutation of the rays of the sun,
The shy hesitancy of the stirring wind.

After so long

After so long
I saw today to my heart’s fill
The golden ripe smiles of harvest

After so long
I heard
The nightingale-chorus of girls thrashing corn

After so long
I smelt to my heart’s fill
A myriad of fresh-taut maulasiri flowers

Touched to my heart’s fill
The red earth of my village paths

Can relish
talamakhana
Suck sugarcane to my heart’s fill

I have experienced fully
After so long
Smell-form-feeling-word-touch everything

All at once on this earth.

Pink Bangles

So what If he is a driver of a private bus
He is the father of a seven year girl after all!
In front above the gear
He has hung from a hook
Four glass bangles pink
In unison with the movement of the bus
They keep moving…

Bending forward I inquired about them
He wasn't expecting it.

The middle-aged moustached authoritative countenance
Spoke softly: yes, sahib
I tell her many times,
The kid doesn’t agree
Has hung here since many days
Her treasure
Right here in front of her father’s eyes
I think then
What harm can possibly come from these bangles
For crime should I remove them from here?

And the driver turned to look at me
His eyes mirrored his milky parental affection
There was an air of poignancy around that simple question
And now those eyes again turned towards the road.

I bent forward and said—
Yes brother, I too am a father
It was only by the way that I had asked you
Who would not like them anyway?
Pink bangles for little wrists!

All the four poems are translated from Hindi by Nalini Taneja. The first two were published in 'Indian Literature'. The first three images are from the portfolio of great Bangladeshi artist Zainul Abedin, while the last image is by another Bangladeshi artist Saifuddin Ahmad.