Poetry from Mahbub


 The Laden Sour Grapes
 It has been a daily matter to us
 Just after the night when the sun rises and call the birds
 The sound of lamentation levitates in the air
 I come across, don't I?
 Pretending not to see or hear
 We step down to the other
 Some walks on uttering Allah! Allah!
 Some walks on uttering Hori! Hori! 
 Some walks on uttering God! God!
 Some say nothing but in a hurry
 Some cry - teardrops rolling on the cheeks
 Looking across the leaves of the large banyan tree
 Counting the clouds on the move
 Some sitting on the tong with the vapors of the tea cup
 Storming the matter over
 Some are fetching clean water from the distant tube-well
 Raising so many questions for the dirty supply of water
 Some are discussing on how they see the light of the glory
 Some are experimenting into the abyss of darkness 
 Don't ask them what happened in the last night
 In the meantime someone stands by gasping at the news of death
 The immature pregnant girl married to the brutal monstrous formation
 The brilliant one of fourteen being convinced by her parents
 Without registration to avoid the risk for violating the marriage system  
 Bleeding so seriously from the first time of their sexual intercourse
 Continuously month long bleeding - darkness in her eyes 
 The very young wife informed her maternal grandparent what's happening to her 
 Her husband would regularly like to have her intimacy whispering  
 'This is natural, dear. Don't get so nervous.' 
 Though every time she would cry in pain  
 Her mother in law called on a person who works for exorcising  
 But her husband remained silent 
 Not taking any step for her better treatment
 In these ignorance she succumbed to death 
 On the thirty-fourth of her marriage day 
 The stranger informing this strode out
 Here the world not resilient for art and music
 No flute to match with the deadly tunes 
 Nightmares on the broad daylight 
 Defeats all the challenges of the mythical tyrannies 
 So tired of hearing about the scabies
 O dear, come on 
 Keep your hand on my breast!
 Let's go to sleep
 It's dead of night. 
 Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
 The Cloud in Lighting
 Life quivers, life interpolates, life's over
 Fuzi, a student of Jahangirnagar University shared her life
 Coming from hundred miles off to her friend's mess at Rajshahi
 How blazing fire the two eyes!
 Crying and crying over the crisis immanent in her life
 Just after her mother's death
 Father married the second time
 But no peace and harmony in her father's second married life
 On the other hand falling in a victim of her lover's betrayal
 She could never make her mind 
 Cried and cried over the matter
 Heavy the heart to the shreds of the cloud in lighting
 She assumed the night proposing for what
 In no way she could make her mind - alone in her bed
 Heard the sound of the clock -----tic, tic, tic
 In this stinging heart beating --- tic, tic 
 The stars at once confounded her eyes
 Why did she come here leaving hundred miles back her home?
 Only to share the problems or do some more on!
 What the twinkling stars whispered in her eyes?
 At once decided to fly over  
 Where she can take rest for ever
 Never to disturb herself or the surroundings
 Flooding the two eyes her friend was exposing all 
 Indicating the hanging body on the ceiling fan 
 Before the police officer
 In a moment the brilliance submerged in remorse
 Would it be reconciled?
 Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
 Corona, to Reveal the Truth
 Corona brought a lot to know
 The human heart - flowing on the blue crystal water of the ocean
 Or staggering on the turbid one
 Reveals the secrets of wrong and right 
 In the circumstances - deep and light
 When the two names vibrate the wind
 Shahed  and  Shabrina from two different sites
 With the fabricated result on testing for corona 
 For positive or negative
 A chance of looting crores of money bears the weakness of the corona body
 Caught red handed and kept into the custody 
 Flashed the light world wide
 Some local leaders exploit the poor monopolizing the government subsidy
 On the other hand, some come forward opening the heart sky like
 The middle smile on from a little bit distant side
 Just like the water on the arum leaves trembling by the soft wind
 Corona made us known to the unknown the hidden gift
 Deaths and diseases not always for mourning or cries
 Pave the way how to live and fight
 A realization from plus and minus 
 From the colorful water of the shivering leaves 
 The heart that sticks to love or deceive
 Corona brought a lot the things never would come into light. 
 Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
 The Love Bird
 You are my love bird
 Colorful butterfly 
 You are my evening glow
 A soft condition of mind
 When the old grope for their sticks
 And walk towards home
 What a pleasure you fly here and there around me!
 Swarming the bees and calling the birds in my garden
 I come across the light out from my lonely chair
 The haunted fear calms down into the dancing light  
 Oh, my finger's joy!
 No thundering storm
 In this soft moderate weather
 I fly over the land wherever I like to go
 Again and again every time
 I find you in my dress I am wearing
 And take a seat on my head or hand 
 My world where I round about.
 Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
 On the Bend (1)
 Life is always on its move
 Just the river we see taking the bend
 Molding the light of the sun and the moon
 The shades of the tress, green memory of the plants
 So many flowers smile on the soft wind
 The sweet note of the birds, the swarming of the bees
 The colorful butterflies and the restless wandering of the little babies
 A place for living you and me
 Blissful the sight of the setting sun
 What a harmony in all the objects of nature!
 On the Bend (2)
 Behold the trees uprooted and the burning branches
 A tell of sadness lies in firing or cyclone
 Changed the way of the river's flow
 Overflowing the lands and the houses
 Deaths and diseases mend the monochrome   
 Life is always on its move
 Just the river goes by its own through the bend.