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Dark n Beautiful Apr 2014
Give and Take
I do not speak of love:
because I struggle with its true meaning
I do not say good morning to strangers
What’s so good about it

I do not celebrate birth:
a child is born:
suddenly someone die
I do not exchange gift on holidays,
Or birthdays
because that cycle will continue
Like the never-ending story:

Life is a struggle within itself by having
To pretend to like strangers,
exchanging  gifts
It’s a profane of utter of words under one breath
the hellos, or good mornings

I do not speak of ****:
because the taboo is that only weak men get ****
Why?
Because there has been so little research into the **** of men

I do not speak kindly to any relationship with a married man
The Bible does not talk about dating
Only marriages, unhappiness,
And foreign lands

However, only spend time on those who love you
Unconditionally
We are made of
Water and sand
Creatures that live
On the line
Of the land
Drawn by
The child-gods
Seperates us
Between
Land and the Sea
Made from sand
And water
Are we.

As the tide
Goes out
Then so
We are pulled
Toward azure
Waters
In lagoons
And deep pools
And as she
Comes back
Return so do we
Our rightful place
Interfaced,
Between
The land
And the sea
Written on an Easter Sunday in 2014.
Jayanta Apr 2014
We had well-heeled days
With sprawling village,
Glowing crop field, homestead,
and flock of cattle !
We worked day and night
Made our life accomplish with fruits of toil!
Those were the days of amiable knot with everyone,
Spring was echoed with the   sound of ‘Dhol’ and ‘Bihu’!
Summer was fragrance with wet soil and mud of crop field!
Autumn was resonance with ‘Aoi-ni-tom’!
Winter was mirrored with golden Paddy!
Now, we are like a vagrant!
We work in other’s field
We are living on our landowner’s marshy!
“Have you seen that boat on the river?
  Our village was there!
Mighty Brahmaputra had carried away
Our home and glee!”
Now, we depend on our land owner’s marshy!
The river Brhamaputra flowing through Assam (a state of India), there are many places in the region where bank erosion takes place along with shifting of river course  and people lost their villages, home and livelihood. It is a great tragedy of the region.
When I visited one of the affected areas, a la-di-dah person belongs to Mising tribal community of Majuli River Island, shared this with me. Still, the drops of tears coming out of his eyes disturb me!

Meaning of the specific word used in the poem –
Dhol- a traditional drum (musical instrument), Bihu- it is a festival of the region and folk song sing in the spring season are also known as Bihu or Bihu Nam /Song, Aoi-ni-tom – a traditional folk song of Mising tribal community
Jayanta Apr 2014
A grass land was there,
Birds use to dance around,
Their song echoed around,
Snake use to wonder around!
A grass land was there,
Porcupine, Rabbits, Pangolin........
Tidy around!
A grass land was there,
Raindrop meanders around!
*
Now only building and terraces are here!
Car and two wheeler running around!
Noise of human voice and machine thunderous around!
People use to say, everything is developing... in and around!

Still I am searching around
The elegant
Birds, their song,
The gorgeous
Snake, their beautiful scroll,
The Splendid raindrop on grass!
Still I am belligerent,  
Powerless to remove my childhood memories!
*
Still searching..........
The grass land....
Birds..............
Snake...................
In the town where I was brought up, a grass land was there, that was our wonder land, now everything replaced by human settlement

— The End —