তুমি নেই কোথাও !

তুমি নেই কোথাও !

যখন চারিদিক অন্ধকার

-ভীষণ কালো

রাতের প্রহরীরা হাতছানি দিয়ে

-ডাকে তোমায়

আমি জানালায় একা বসে দেখি

-তোমার চলে যাওয়া

অশরীরি বাতাস কথা বলে আমার কানে

- ওলট-পালট করে দিয়ে সময়

দুঃস্বপ্নের বেড়াজালে আবদ্ধ আমি, ফিরে আসতে চাই

-তুমি নেই কোথাও!

তবুও হয় জেগে থাকা একা

ফিরে দেখ নি তুমি, আক্ষেপ নেই আমার

তবুও থমকে থাকে তোমার ছায়া

অনুভূতিহীন প্রহর, এ ভালোবাসা খুব অর্থহীন মনে হয়!

যখন কোথাও নেই একটু আলো,

-পালিয়ে বেড়ায় চাঁদ

পৃথিবীর সব ঘুমিয়ে পড়ে, আমাকে কাঁদায়

-এ ঘুমহীন চোখ

হারিয়ে খুজি তোমাকে আমি, স্বপ্নেরা জানায়

-চির বিদায়

হৃদয়হীন আত্মা তুমি , জানি স্পর্শ করে না তোমায়

-আর্তনাদ আমার

রক্তের নোনা গন্ধে শ্বাসরুদ্ধ আমি ,শেষবার দেখতে চাই

-তুমি নেই কোথাও. . . . . !

Date: 20/07/2009

The Moment of Escape

 On the left side of my ribcage, shrouded by the flesh, right inside my throbbing heart was where she lived. A warm, rapturous presence that flowed along my blood timelessly, soothing my beseeching senses- yes, she was the VERY ONE! Like a wild gust of wind blowing into the face of a lonely traveler, on a fateful day long bygone, I had come across her. And since that very moment, a strange urge growing inside moved me greatly. I was eccentrically compelled to embed each of her priceless memories carefully in my brain, to live in the moment of her glowing charisma, to finally hold on to that divine being, and not let her escape! Sadly, this is the memoir of how blatantly I had failed that endeavor, eventually to end up perishing in the solitude of a merciless world.

It began just like any other day, except that the Evil Eye must have been on our enchanting friendship. As I proceeded with my everyday chores, an unexpected call utterly weakened my firm mindset, leading to treacherous second thoughts. The call –now though a ‘bad omen’ to me- then offered me a coveted opportunity I had been craving for so long, out of the blue! On the spur of the moment - being precariously balanced on a precipice of indecision- I SHAMEFULLY GAVE AWAY to some ephemeral glory, turning my back to the sheer reality: my EVER PRECIOUS bond with her. Oh, I still remember the PIERCING COWARDLY FEELINGS I had when I spoke to her of my intentions!

All the while her eerie silence to the entire matter sent FRIGHTENING SHUDDERS through my spine, and when she eventually pronounced those final words ‘We’re through then!’ it was as if I had lost my speech to BEWILDERMENT. Little did I know then my illusions would cost me such an irreparable damage! For long, unending days, when repentance finally penetrated my numb conscience, I flooded her with earnest apologies and prayers. But could it bring back the old, vibrant days when she could only smile at me but not CURSE? No!

In the tragic interim, I must confess of relishing numerous lucrative opportunities life could offer. . . .but without her captivating aura, it was as if EVEN THE SWEETEST OF THINGS LOST THEIR CHARMS. Have you ever felt a SHARP, INDESCRIBABLE PANG when you were gifted with the best of both worlds, but not the one you loved MOST? It is my honest confession, right at that hour, it was what I felt.

As time elapsed, my betrayal became even more obvious to her when the RUTHLESS SOCIETY constantly questioned her about this sudden separation of ours. However, she being the DEAREST TO MY HEART, I had never wanted to break apart from those old, friendly ties . . . but it was as if my sole mistake had created a TIMELESS DISTANCE between us, one I could not run across. So, I slowly retired my efforts to the mechanical hands of time nevertheless, it could not heal our seething wounds of mistrust. . . . . .but ONLY MADE THEM GANGRENOUS!

 

Gradually, perhaps by the mystical power of mutation, I had learnt to accept her absence in every PAINFUL PHASES of my life. Not surprisingly, the mention of my ‘wretched’ name does not light her angelic face with a smile anymore . . . instead it coils into a dreadful, indifferent expression that makes my hair stand on end!

Yet, life goes on as I strive to live with this intolerable, heavy burden of her HATRED. Still, the very thought - of waking up someday in her welcoming arms of companionship – is a BLUNDER I no longer make for these ACCURSED YEARS OF SURVIVAL taught me very well that. . . . .  she had long ago made HER ESCAPE!

Date: 29/09/11

With love

 Dedicated to my Best Friend Nazia Jahan Chowdhury

The Darkest Night

It dripped but blood . . . . . something wailed but a human voice! Loud, echoing footsteps emerged towards a dark swollen object – no, it was a man actually, with his hands and legs tied. His blood-drained eyes struggled hard to see, heck, the acid had worked its miracle by now- it was as if you were staring into some hollow eye sockets!

“রাষট্র ভাষা বাংলা চাই!” he mumbled, as if he were having a nightmare. Alas, it was apparently more brutal than that – a gory reality!

“Bandhlo usko,chinlo uski juban!” the Commander shouted outrageously, kicking his captive in the mouth ;blood gushed out of one corner.

“আহ্!” he could only wail while they stabbed him fiercely with the bayonet .The inhuman, predatory Commander’s lips curled into a crooked villainous smirk.

“বাবা, আসার সময় আমার জন্য লাল জামা এনো ,” the words of a four year old kid- his only son- kept ringing in his ears as he drifted off to an eternal slumber: death!

At the darkest of nights, Mahmud Hasan embraced defeat to the Pakistan military, flooding his own doorstep with the blood that was then running in his little Shadhin’s fragile body. Fate could be no more ironical that he was not even let to have a last sigh. Not even let to have a last look at his beloved faces, which now frowned in dreadful concern awaiting his arrival.

“আব্বু , তোমার বাবা যে কোথায় গেল. . .?” Mahmud’s wife blurted out this question to her innocent child, alas it remained unanswered forever.

She wondered what could have happened that he had to leave so late at night. Even before an hour, he was with her talking of dreams he had cherished about Shadhin, their only child. What followed next was even faster than a whirlwind- there was some urgent call; he looked gravely worried . . . then just a ring of the doorbell, the next instant he was gone grunting out some hasty words: “স্বাধীন-কে দেখে রেখ!”

Little she did know then that it was a one-way journey he was departing on. The grandfather clock made a ding-dong chime announcing the beginning of another day: 1 o’clock.

“এতো দেরি করার মানে কি?” she spoke to herself angrily, as she shrouded her sleeping child with the motherly warmth of a quilt.

 A distant shooting sound- may be let out by a gun- reached her ears and her heart skipped a beat. What could have possibly made such sound at this hour of the night? She looked for an explanation but found herself in the dark! By-and-by, the grueling household works she had undergone that day, started to take their toll on her. So, staying up the night was something she could bear no longer- her eyelids were already laden with sleep. Thus, leaving their fate upon the hands of God, she was about to lay herself when she heard loud thudding on the door.

Finally relieved that he had returned, she opened the door without a second thought, but what she saw then replaced the radiant smile on her lips into a heart-breaking scream- a cry for help. However, there was none to help as people had already left their homes to flee for their lives but a good number of them got killed in crossfire on the dark, deserted streets of 25^th March.

Standing before her were hyenas in human disguise, clad in military uniforms; their eyes lit up with greed- we better call it lust! A couple of them broke into her little house-which was until then a sweet heaven, caught her by the hair and dragged her inside.

“না. . .আ. . আ. .!আমাকে ছেড়ে দাও,আল্লাহর দোহাই!”she cried helplessly, throwing herself to their feet.

The rest of the story remains unwritten for the readers to guess, for it was one of the bloodiest nights in the history of Bangladesh. The darkest of all nights that aroused the call for Independence in the hearts of young soldiers- Freedom Fighters- who gave us an independent motherland and a loving mother-tongue we have cherished for so long!!

For the love of 'Pretence'

. . . . . As the shrill of cricket imbued the summer air, while a sudden breeze howled through the cedars in the backyard, and with her mahogany-tinted hair unworn, a beauteous girl reclined against a dew-soaked bed of grass in transfixed vision towards a starless heaven. The moon had already shone up, showering the world beneath in its celestial glamor, in the eastern sky. The dark descending of the nightfall added an aura of eeriness to the surrounding air, yet as if brushing aside all demoniac spirits, she lay merely human, recollecting. . . 
 

“Erm. . .love (then a long withdrawn pause) ,” on the verge of treacherous tears, he had wailed, “. . . .I can’t lie longer!” he sounded as if some convict confessing his own infidelity at the Shamble’s Gate.

“Lie? . . . What lie? What makes you cry, love!” she forced out grave words of concern.

“I never wanted . . . to . . . hurt you,” his voice playing defensive, “umm….you’re so innocent . . . but I lied all this time! Hell, I never loved you really!” his voice broke out an impenetrable guilt.

“W-H-A-T!” her voice estranged, and with the rest of the confession lingering on the other side of the phone, it struck her as if the ground beneath her slightly shifted. Like she was mercilessly thrown into a murky, bottomless abyss!

Only an hour ago, her life had been a “once-upon-a-time” tale, where she was lifted almost to the seventh heaven by the very thought of ‘him’. Like a maddening urge, it kept returning to her. . . the vibrancy of passion that radiated each time he called her. . .the sheer warmth with which he stroked her. . .he was but an irrevocably unforgettable memory. She could not take in the momentous truth . . . that he was a betrayer. Pretence it all was, he being a flawless actor, his tainted cravings had worn the façade of love to ‘bluff’ her. Meanwhile,as she remained utterly engrossed in contemplation, the surrounding Nature had ventured to weave her ‘occasional emotional outbursts’ into a heart-rending tale:

“And his voice in her head kept getting stronger

Led astray from Truth could she survive longer?

All on a sudden November appeared so bleak. . . .

When, before the scrutiny of Reason, her dreams fled.

What Fairy Tale was before corroded into a vicious facade!

Even the primeval Cedars hadn’t seen in a decade. . .

Such writhing of Soul in repentance of an unknown Blunder!

Her ordeals lingered through nights, unending and colder….”

Once upon a past, when he was not back-stabber, love was a blazing inferno with her emotions only fueling it further. If this was not love, startled at the vibrant feelings his presence had invoked, she questioned herself what it was. However, in vain. With the dagger of ‘betrayal’ searing through her credence, scattered flashbacks preoccupied her mind, and while the drops of anguish trickled down her cheeks, his words seemed to echo in the air:

“Love?” she used to summon in pretentious authority, at times.

“Your wish is my command, Princess!” he urged humbly.

“You love me a lot, don’t you?” she mocked, in discreet desperately longing for assurance.




 

“More than I could tell. . .”soberly, he answered back.

Rummaging through his sardonically camouflaged words for a hint of evidence that whatever happened a while back was a nightmare, her unfaltering endurance finally failed her. Writhing in acute agony, she sniffed initially . . . muffled sobs only to follow. Thus, the moment her ironical fate dawned on her rationale, her voice surpassed all bounds and whimpered relentlessly till slumber had taken over.

Memories I'd No More Feel. . . . .

One singular moment of bleakness

In a bustling corner, among wandering souls

When evening falls with memories forgotten

In quietness.  . .  .  .

Like a silhouette on a faded blue canvas

Your face imbues my mind and old friendship calls!

Here you are, standing right before me

Across the icy ramparts between us

That barely allows me to see. . . .

Yet I strain my vision to watch your visage

Light up with a smile. . . .

While I welcome pain to paint pictures

In  mine.  . . .

Through every street I walk, everywhere I go

Your enthralling fragrance vaguely accompanies me

As my only living memory of yours. . . . .

So to the chilling night air, I howl, painfully

‘Oh why did she go away?

Holding the hands of Time, everything changes

Why couldn’t it reconcile our companionship . . .

Rather than creating a “widening distance”?

Even the Night with its engulfing darkness

Can never erase our beautiful dreams

Of daylight, and brightness . . . . .

As a remnant to my horrifying blunder

Then how could you abandon a friend

To die forsaken, in loneliness. . . . ?

In desperation, as my contemplation meets

No answer, but eerie silence. . . . .

To the darkness, I am nobody, it only seems!

My heart tears apart when I can still hear

Your final words. . . . . .

Piercingly reverberating off my ears

The heartbreaking memory of yours is one

Of faded days. . . . . .

But you’re still a living ghost

My eyes wish to see!

A night full of pouring rain

Can never soothe those seething wounds

That you’ve made. . . . .!

Sometimes I think I should go away from you

Far,  far away. . . . . .

But would that make me forget the times

You were in my dreams . . . .?

Or even the moments you made me dream?

Drenched wet yet ablaze inside. . . . .

The memoirs burn in unleashed flame

As with drooping shoulders, I shy away and hide

From your memories I’d never  feel   again

From a reality where you belong no more . . . .!

By Bushra Altaf Chowdhury

 10/11/11

Specially Dedicated to Nazia Jahan Chowdhury