The clock is still there in the wall
But no-body is there in the room
to see whether it's hands move.

What good of knowing the exact time
When none has time
The ryhms of our child-hood, we had left
in the green-field decades before.

Now, he keeps peeping into the world through the glass of his mobile phone and
As you know,
the world is too big to see in a life.

So, he has no time to see the ancient wall
or the clock fixed to it
But still the clock moves with passage of time
Like those ryhms of our tongues
Still playing in the green --
Days to months and months to years --
Like the clock in the wall or
the wall with the clock.
+++++++++++++++++++++++

Khadyot Gogoi

When mind pushes the body, there is an opportunity to change direction,
Disaster falls upon when mind drags the body forward.

Trains with locomotives on the back may not have been seen much
The auxiliary engine carries the bogies up on its gradient-
like a faithful friend.

But it is the speed of the engine from the front that Controls the direction of travel.

How much spiritual practice of bodies like this for life
- With imaginary permutations of speed and velocity.

In fact, it is the invisible owner of the track who controls everything that goes on the track.

At some time, even the fastest train has to accept the uncomfortable truths of life. +++

Recently lock down began
You may say
This is not the time to write a poem
When darkness falls drop by drop
From the sky.
In this cursed timorous moment
Breathe is confined,
Infected by incorporeal virus
Present in the silent outline of the city.
This is not at all a time for parasitic dream dalliance.

I myself too is a socially isolated person of pessimistic attitude,
Whose, vanity is a part of genetically accumulated negativity.
When people speak of moonlight and starry nights
I am frightened in apprehension of darkness.
When people speak of blooming of flowers
I wait wakefully in apprehension of a storm.
In every morning, I dream idle dreams of the evening.
My friends know quite well
That I am a foolish ancient mirror of psych lateral inversion.
.
Yet I wish to dedicate few moments of this tragic conjuncture
In the name of poetry
In this scary time of screams and uproars
Once again I want to start
The protesting parade of indomitable words
With the crime of antisocial psyche.
O' gloomy time of locked down city
Can the defeat be admitted so easily?

Where is that moment that can resist
The inevitable course of impending sunrise?
Can the clamour of birds become silent
Out of fear of horns of buffaloes?
Can the poison droplets fatigue the seeking thirst of enlightment
Of the descendants of light?
Will the deep paddy of green fields
Admit defeat so easily
Out of fear of unruly flood of Ahar ?

In fact, the words are not so simple
In fact, the words are not so simple

In this ominous darkness of ENDHAUBAALI
Once again,
skillful shadow war.
Every person of the locked down city knows
Patience matters, only patience.
The enemy will perish without a trace
Lockdown, Lockdown, lockdown comrades,
Lockdown the city;
Under silent raid; like a new Stalingrad.

The world conquered enemy
laughs horrible laughter at the
extended banks of the Luit.
But for that the heart is not trembled.
We want triumph and only triumph without the fear of death.
The country men are ready
Prepared with well-skilled, proficient and disciplined array
Will go forward with sword of thunder
Built in the workshops of science and technology
When clarion call comes.
New Saraighat is calling us.

Every citizen of the locked down city knows what is needed.
A little patience and some sacrifice.
In this cursed darkness of Endharubali
Once again well-skilled shadow war
The experienced wisdom of locked down city knows
Patience is a must, only patience
The enemy will die of drying
without tracing the host
The enemy will die of hunger
without finding out any trace.
Locked down for two fortnights
New Stalingrad, new Stalingrad.

There should be a river here somewhere
In the valley of the never ending festivities,

The birds are comming back,
The fox-tailed orchids are blooming
In the  forking out branches of Ajhar,

Down the ***** of the proud hillocks
Along the banks of the Brahmaputra.

By this moment, you should have been greeted with
The mesmerizing tune of a trumpet of Buffalo horn;

But this time, you will not be allowed to enjoy even
The scenic beauty of an opportunist egret
Sitting on the back of an one-horned rhinoceros.

Yes,  it is the most untimely arrival of yours;
Here in Kaziranga,
Now, the spring is unwelcome.

They were preparing for the third world war
Stockpiling all the ammunitions of hatred and destruction
But none of them had ever imagined
That they all would be in the same alliance
Against an invisible dust as fast and precise,
As the missiles and the lasers.

Refuting the whole of my negativities
In the deep darkness of the tunnel
One of my younger companions whispered-
‘And for how more times would you utter of the sunrise!
When your will is convincible
It is the sunrise;
The moment, you open your eyes.’
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++