MY SOJOURN WITH THE ALTER EGO

Oh, Sujot!

(Remembering Rodin the French sculptor)

                                                    By Ratan Debnath

Oh, Sujot!

You look on and on at me

Till I fall asleep at late night.

You listen to my voice,

But never go beyond to remain indifferent.

Sometimes I wake up at midnight

You're stony yet

to bid adieu to sleep.

Beside me lying my better-half;

Beside me going to slumber

My dreamy children.

I get up to lie down again

To pacify the greedy solitude.

Let's Go-back to the Galaxy Again!

                                                  By Ratan Debnath

Let's go back to the galaxy again, Ajeya

Man's no longer humane on earth.

Neither they try to understand matter

Nor do they regard minds they belong to.

Here they can't realize where happiness lies!

Perhaps you can recall the purpose of

Our terrestrial ride we had;

Our quest began to have emotional intelligence

That would guide them in their journey to futurity;

That would instigate us also to live

On the world of purely matter, we had thought

We wanted to bring this treasure trove with us.

We had misinterpretation about men and their minds.

Let's go back to the galaxy empty handed;

We should not be hypothetical any more.

Fairie or Foe

                                                  By Ratan Debnath

While the night's ready to bid adieu to them,

Awake and active, working and singing,

Not seen or steeped in fairie dream.

She comes to tell the silly silence

That their deeds or indifference

Are futile for futurity or posterity.

Only feeling makes one fairie or foe

Only perseverence instigates the sleepy,

She whispers.

MY SOJOURN WITH THE ALTER EGO

Beyond the veil

                                          By Ratan Debnath

Yes, I'm that intruder,

who has seen the very secret

through the veil, ajar

on a moon-lit night.

               

In my childhood, a quest began unconsciously,

The adolescence disembarked me on dilemma

At last, the youth's acute eagerness

Gifted me that immaculate light.

Now, I'm ready to be hanged

Leaving life quite contented,

Or to be deported alone

If witnessing light's a punishable crime.

Catastrophe

                                      By Ratan Debnath 

It's rattling

Have you heard it, my alter-ago?

My skeleton's rattling in the closet

And leaves me orphaned inanimating my heart.

I ask thee again-

Could you hear it?

Gone are the dry days of five decades,

Craving a little indulgence for the dews-

Dews that touch the grass on some

Silent night and thus pass the sojourn destined!

And now, I'm not what I am!

Fat Layers have just begun to pile up.

Now, I could see the beckon of quicksand.

Nobody is seen ahead to stop me

Nobody is calling me from behind

Oh my luxurious death, lookers! wait

To witness my cool catastrophe.

Oh, Sorrow!

                                  By Ratan Debnath

Oh, Sorrow!

Thou come so oft,

Giving no serenity to life,

Leaving no solemnity in sight,

(that) man tends to opt.

Sometimes thou appear too nude to look at,

Sometimes thou stay too long to tolerate.

I ask not,

I judge not

To be immersed, deeper and deeper,

To reach the worlds of words.

Here lives the muse,

Here weeps the excuse

To hear or rear the tune finer.

MY SOJOURN WITH THE ALTER EGO

The Asylum

                                                      By Ratan Debnath
Step in my alter-ego!
This is the healing hut, my oasis,
Prepared for the desired sojourn
Freezing the scattered soul.
Now, open the humane windows,
And let the breezes of jerusalem
Blow on your gory sores
Yearning for early recovery.
Look on the approaching roads
And behold the herds of camels destined,
To carry the Syberian snow
Sucking up the sandy sahara.
Turn left again to see the wavy persimmons
Intending to grind your dialectical dilemma
Into natural tranquility.

Step in for life, step in for love
For the asylum's
Free from violence and treachery.

FIll in the blanks

                                                      By Ratan Debnath
Like the born-to be-killed,
Man's merely an item
To fill in the blanks.

There are so many blanks to be filled:
His family, his siblings,
His fame, his name
To start with.

Here he finds only wants.
They dazzle like highway glow signs
While walking,
While working,
While travelling,
While thinking.
There's only message in these glow signs
Money matters; and so you're a machine,
Earn more and more.

His family demands nothing else except that
His neihourhood claims only that
His time abuses him failing to get that
His aims and dreams instigate him to eat that fire.

Yet he tries to fill in the blanks;
He boards the boat
With too much burden of promises.
Scarecely does he cross the bay of Time
For he oft faces the tides, coupled with high waves.
 So the dream dies as the boat capsizes.
The blanks remains unfulfilled.

When a widow dies

                                                      By Ratan Debnath
Go thy earthly burden, go
But tell them not-
All are destined to burning beams;
For they'll not to be gay to hear it.

You nurished a dream, not abstract,
A sweet home and a homely husband.
Who does not dream of!
Alas! You're beaten up upright,
You'e been denied of.

Now, you die
Your only son, next to your life, feels relieved.
When your sole husband left you alone,
You just whispered: oh, God, please a rope!
Now the faggots are ready to burn
Your earthly dreams,
That could have been mouled a bit
If venrured, if tried, if, if if.........