Hello everyone and welcome to poetics. Hope you are doing good.
In my city, the winter is slowly fading now. This year, we had a rather sporadic winter. It was not too cold, temperature fluctuated, rained here and there. Around this time of the year, we get to see a lot of seasonal flowers. This year is no exception no matter what the winter felt like.
The biggest attraction of January for me is that we have an international book fair. If I am in the city, I never miss it. If I have one reason to return to the city in the month of January – it would undoubtedly be the book fair. Every year – they would pick a theme country and invite writers to come over and share their creativity. I had a busy Saturday, but when I went there today and could speak to some of the writers, it just made my day and I returned with a bag full books. On that very special note, I wanted to share a special poem I grew up with.
My introduction to modern poetry in mother language was with Jibananada Das. He redefined the style and later many took his path. The majority of poetry that is written today is inspired by him in one form or the other. I wanted to share a few stanzas.
When again I return to the Dhansiri’s banks, to this Bengal,
Not as a man, perhaps, but as a shalik bird, or a white hawk,
As, perhaps, a crow of dawn in this land of autumn’s new rice harvest,
He often wrote about coming back to where he was born – his words made me aware of delicate and beautiful nuances of nature as I grew up.
Into the half light and shadow go I. Within my head
Not a dream, but some sensation works its will.
Not a dream, not peace, not love,
A sensation born in my very being.
I cannot escape it
For it puts its hand in mine,
And all else pales to insignificance–futile, so it seems
Jiabanada showed me a lot of possibilities but he was also affected with certain morbidity. I have never overcome that whenever I read him. May be someday I will try to translate some of his work – only if I felt that translation did not take away beauty of his language. His poetry has often asked this question to me – if I want to come back. I guess I will always have elements of my city, my existence that I would want to return to.
So today I ask this question to you – do you want to reborn as who you are? Do you think you could come back like a bird? What would you be looking for if you come back?
Join me on my poetics.
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- Write a poem and post it to your site/blog.
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Thank you all. Have fun.