A poem from BanglaDesh
Mr. Shamsur Rahman, a noted poet of BanglaDesh has expressed his feelings about the current earnage in his country in a touching poem. Says UNI.
The Poem, published in a local periodical, runs as follows:
Shen lured in her quiet remote village,
Engrossed all the while in a thousand and one
Sundry domestic chores.
She hardly noticed the sun throbbing in the sky
Or rafts of clouds sailing by.
Time flew without her even noticing it.
The whole scene was intensely familiar;
The pot of rice boiling in the oven,
A fish or two and some spinach
For her modest school-teacher husband.
Now and then she glanced up and laid her eyes
On the gourd creepers creeping over the lence
And sitting on a branch of the jackfruit tree
A yellow bird wagged its tail ceaselessly.
Hours rolled by
After her bath, with the water drawn from the well
She combed her hair, liberally streaked with gray.
And she thought of her baby son in the local school,
Learning by role his multiplication table.
And then she packed in a jar home-made country cakes.
Decorated with embroidered designs,
And thought of her eldest son.
The one with ever-shining bright eyes,
Studying in a remote city school.
She hardly ventured outside her tiny home.
Her life was simple, serene and self-effacing
Only the memories of her long dead parents
Sometimes it brought an ache to her heart.
And then the entire country reared its head like an angry god
News came pouring in from all corners
Many sacrifices incarnated the notice soil.
The blood-spattered clothes of the son drew the village mother inexorably.
The green gourds, the river and the meadow, the ‘kalai’ field.
And her old familiar tank was left far far behind.
Today one finds her footprints on the wide city roads.
And on the narrow side streets,
On all highways and alleys
Losing her son, the mother has now mingled the bright
Tears of her stricken heart with resonant slogans.
Reference: Hindustan Standard, 08.04.1971