Poetry from Mahbub

Blows On Me For Stealing Some Money

Once I stole some money from my father’s pocket

It was long since I had done that

At one point my father came to know the matter

He caught me seriously to be a thief

I became nervous but I denied

When I denied he became more furious and dangerous to me

Suddenly at the time of speaking with him

He started to beat me

Again I told him I didn’t

But he couldn’t believe me

And nothing could make him believe

His blows on me over body and head

Took me to the world of death

He beat with sandals and sticks

With what he got beside him

At one time I was going to die

Suddenly I confessed I took the money

He stopped beating and with his burning eye

He warned me if I would do such kind of work

In the next time he would teach me more

That I’ll never forget

How can I forget the torment, my father, you rained on me?

It was not because I took the money for any serious purpose

Only to buy any toys according to my choice

But my father took it to be otherwise

And taught me a lesson to be remembered from time to time

In life.


 The World To Me


This is the world

The world to me strictly as it is

Where we are played as a ball

Dance on the legs

Kicked to the goal posts

Directly enters into

Sometimes it is caught by the goal keepers

Sometimes the kick is missing

We are all played by the players of the world

Everybody wants to supersede on others

We perform our duty as subservient wearing the mask over

Trodden on and suppression

suffocating as well as severe humiliation

By our upper ranks and positions

It’s an uneven area

Where we fall down to walk

It’s not dark but more than dark condition

I’d not like to stay here any longer

I am a ball, not to be played

I’d  like to shift  the place

and want to live

Where love and beauty play

With the objects of nature.



Living In Difference


Mingling with dark and light

I lay my body

In silence

Where there will be no noise

We live quiet

A bird will come, sing to me

So many of them will join there to me

And enchant like a morning rose


It’s a place free of chaos and pathos

Sorrows and fears

Only the seasonal heat and cold may have there

I am a boy not to revolt

Don’t have the courage to bring me back or forward

Everything is mostly what I observe doesn’t twinkle

Like the stars

We see the moon as gold or white

Does not matter

But what we see in our daily routine

We face a challenge before us

We tackle or not

We are to face and get tired

There are so many crimes, so many deceptions

Beyond my imagination

The life I deal with

There is no solution

Disturbs me, frustrates me

Make me mad and lament over

There is no any healing power

Tigers and Lions are eating their lion’s share

Others have only their watch to look over.



I And My Boss


I am a little dog

Barking to my boss

My boss is merciful

Take me to his laps

Give me food and water

Cuddle me with his loving hand

I am a little dog

Try to supply

That’s my boss likes me

If I deny

Doesn’t beat me

Like a toy he plays with me

I love my boss

My boss does so

I sleep with him

Keeping his loving hand on me

My boss and I pass the night happy

Awaking in the dusk

We both start for work

The day’s light grows whiter

We become fatigue

Take rest for a while

Then again start with the table

Following these or those

we pass our days with

Joy and merry.





Walk Under The Tree


Today when I was walking with my little daughter

Beside the road

It was only half past eleven pm.

The power of the sun was scorching

Burning our body

The flesh of body seem to be boiling

It was just boiling in the water

My head and sense did not act then for some moment

I was thinking that as though dying

How dangerous the climate!

It is not June or July

It’s October, it’s Autumn

It may not be the time of scorching sun

But it is.

The world is becoming so hot

We don’t care for it

It is heating us more and more

When it will be the furnace of the chimney

What will we do then?

Be careful my friends

Don’t run in the sun

Walk under the tree

Where there you’ll find shade.


Balubagan, Chapainawabganj