"dhaka" poems
Pleasure enclosed noon on a table
A magnolia-soul from opposite chair
Puts on elegant dress
Like a blooming melody dancing on.
Bonsai is a living image of endless dream
I've ever seen a person how far delighted
Simple, extremely white portrait of life
So pretty and so the finest
never have I ever seen.
Billions of small bells are refraining
from entering the dark room
And I'm returning back towards a window
Through which a large a4 navy-blue sky is smiling.
Poem 03
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
Whenever I get on the NH1 Grand Trunk Road,
I feel the pride of it being the oldest highway,
Built even before the documentation period.
King Ashoka got it built in the 3rd century B.C.,
Emperor Sher Shah got it repaired in the 17'th,
The British Company utilized it in 1857 1st war.
It was then gotten repaired only a bit by them,
Repairing such a long highway isn't easy at all,
It runs from Kabul up to Kolkata and to Dhaka.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 6:24 AM UTC
One day, two incidents, one enemy; we’ll never forget,
A day which changed map projection,
Which apart the hearts,
Extirpate many dreams,
Floating bodies in the river,
Conjoin pain and frighten memories,
Memories which we would recall on 16th December,
When we were recalling the memories of severance with Dhaka,
Woe was in the breeze,
But an enemy afar from all emotions,
Bloodthirsty souls; Extirpate many dreams,
Dreams of to become a pilot, doctor and a responsible citizen,
One day, two incidents, one enemy; we’ll never forget,
We’ll never forget,
One enemy but two faces,
First Dhaka than Peshawar,
But they did not knew,
Events of dolorous conjoined the nations!
By: Nida Mahmoed
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
A yellowish time was walking alone
On the Hare Road in the rainy afternoon.
Is it time to discuss with coffee or ice-cream
holding the hand like a band
Touching the sorrows before putting
coins into the evening's folder?
It's time to slice time thinner and thicker
Processing pickles on the dissection table
With likings-hates, joys-sorrows, dreams-realities
before the evening flirts afternoon!
Going ahead or coming back or even standing a while
Which one is the worthless best I don't like to know?
A small seed of wrongful dream germinates mutely
From infinity and going to the end of infinity!
Never have I seen any time walking
Nor have I seen any rainy afternoon at Hare Road!
Poem 17
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:09 AM UTC
We put on snow-white dress
and camouflage blacks inside
Best friend is the worst enemy of man!
Leaving with a lot of do's and don'ts;
Deformed envious man pluck blooming flowers
to pollute the blue sky!
Though viruses fly around like fern spores
How orchids can bloom without care?
Poem 24
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
Am I really complex
Like the reticulate venation of a leaf?
An abstract art on the wall?
Why face can't be read, why?
Should I promise to be an ice-cream
melting upon tongue?
Truth may looses uniform
and puts on the fake costume
But I'm a shade of 3bs:
bell, butterfly and bonsai!
Poem 19
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:11 AM UTC
In my home city of Dhaka, there is an abundance of bananas. Their sickly sweet aroma hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the stench of human toil and chemical wastes to produce the true odor of despair. The lives of these bananas are relatively short. They start off in a poor farmer’s tree, dragged to market in a broken-down truck, and sold at a cut-throat price to the vendor. In a well-rehearsed play, vendor and consumer haggle over bruised bananas. The tired consumer brings the bananas home and hangs them in the kitchen where cockroaches stalk empty cupboards.
The next day, we, the children, will carry the bananas in empty lunch boxes to school. Together, we will sit through vapid lectures, tailored to make the clock tick slower. Not once will the teacher pause to encourage us to achieve. During lunch, we will devour our bananas with unwashed hands. Despite our best efforts, we will be corralled into our parents’ lives and become the next generation of factory workers and office clerks.
Sometimes though, a child manages to get a glimpse into the other world. I was fortunate enough to be one of these children. One afternoon, my father came into our tiny living room with a smile on his face and an object protruding from his shirt pocket. He told me that he had a special present for me. With a practiced flourish, he took out an orange from his worn shirt. My eyes widened with amazement.
To me, oranges were objects only celebrities and corrupt politicians could afford. They were luxury items, myths seen on television. Yet here I was, nothing extraordinary, holding a real orange in my palm. Slowly I peeled the orange, feeling my old impoverished self peel away simultaneously. As I tasted the first tangy slice, I heard the shackles of the banana chain fall. It was then that I truly felt that I had the power to become anything I wanted. That day, I was liberated from the vicious banana cycle.
From that day forward, I looked for positive events in my life, for signs of hope and change. One day, I saw my strict, condescending teacher discreetly hand an orange to a classmate whose family was unemployed. For the rest of the day, the child stood a little taller. For that day, he was no longer living in a destitute environment, but residing in the warmth of human nature.
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 1:13 PM UTC
Teen model Shonali Khatun strutted the catwalk as the audience cheered at a fashion show in Bangladesh's capital.
But Shonali is no ordinary model, and this was no ordinary show.
She and the 14 other models are survivors of acid attacks, common in this south Asian country, where spurned lovers or disgruntled family members sometimes resort to hurling skin-burning acid at their victims.
The fashion show, held Tuesday night in Dhaka and attended by fashion lovers, rights activists and diplomats including the US ambassador to Bangladesh, aimed to redefine the notion of beauty while calling attention to the menace of such attacks.
For 14-year-old Shonali, the event was nothing short of empowering. She was attacked just days after she was born amid a property dispute involving her parents, and was left with burn scars on her face and arms. She spent nearly three years in a hospital and underwent eight operations. Her attacker has never been caught.
"I am so happy to be here," she said. "One day I want to be a physician."
The models, including three men, walked the catwalk, dancing and singing and showcasing woven handloom Bangladeshi designs. The show was choreographed by local designer Bibi Russel.
Organisers said they hoped to highlight the fact that acid victims, too often overlooked, are a vital part of society. They deliberately chose to hold the event on the eve of International Women's Day.
"We are here today to show their inner strength, as they have come a long way," said Farah Kabir, country director of ActionAid Bangladesh, which organised the show. "I often take inspiration from them. Their courage is huge."
Bangladesh has struggled to deal with acid attacks in recent decades, and has instituted harsh punishments for the perpetrators, including the death penalty. The country has also trained doctors to treat such sensitive cases and attempted to control the sale of acid, but has failed to eliminate the scourge entirely.
In 2016, some 44 people were attacked with acid in Bangladesh - an annual number that has remained relatively stable.
"I am ashamed of having such things in the country," Kabir said. "Unfortunately, in Bangladesh we do have acid victims because of either gender discrimination or violence, or because of greed. And we want to remind everyone the kind of injustice that has been meted out to them."Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 8:57 PM UTC
‘Hah-ha-heh-he-hoh-ho' is a legend
A classic drug of wiping up yesterdays.
I settled to clean a virus before closing eyes
Like a duel core machine with latest software.
A bell rang my welfare on the upset table
While noon laughed and I didn't see anything.
I on that Thursday perceived a camouflage
Of Bonsai putting on master-blue wings.
Poem 04
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
During discussion with key-board
through internet messenger,
Love sleeps on the bench like a pet
beside the purple-green footpath.
Sharing violet feelings via e-mail,
million megabytes of stamina downloads
And converts instantly smiling-heart
into jpg format to attach with the mail.
Cyber love navigates on cool wave
as a kite walking slowly
On the bluish velvet sky
above a land of beckoning jade-dreams.
Poem 07
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 1:58 AM UTC
Time, I found you, sky was clear blue…
Lake-fish plays, sunny summer days,
Flowers of Spring, brown guitar string
Ease our hearts, playing own parts…
Lonely wooden bench, narrow little trench
Save us for sure from being so impure,
All the way down, white long gown
Makes you my bride, tomato sun dried…
Micro-oven hot, tequila double shot
Nothing else matters, whoever scatters,
Only you & me, floating on the sea
Watching our sky, ready to full-fly…
So many days, we’ll remain always
Both of us care with faithful share
Wish to be there, lowest depth layer
Seems flatland, the life we planned…
You are my girl, precious hidden pearl
Love you always; bird in the cage
If you ever feel, stay there until,
Ever free you are, to fly forever …
But be ever sure, what you endure
Goes truly wrong or misread song!
Betrayer is better than wrong mind setter,
Love’s always new, can avail only few!…
Wish you my dear, nothing to fear
You’ll find me, in middle of the sea,
In troubled rainy day, I must say
I’m here with you, a friend so true…
Look up the sky, white clouds dry
Amid the Blue, only me & you
Will remain forever, ever & ever
I’ll love you, Honey days are still sunny…
~ Anwar Parvez Shishir ~
Dhaka Bangladesh
15/JUNE/2014/Sunday
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
I am from a rooftop garden
That smell like fresh guavas
And hard, wired fences
Behind which lies a foggy skyline
A dreaming city
I am from a small, brown-red backyard shed
Tucked between rural green fields
Where two little girls defended the world from evil by
Laughing and swinging wildly on a rusted, fluorescent swing set
I am from a row of townhouses
Where no matter how late the return
Warm lights inside glow
Beckoning
I am from strong rocks
Against which foamy, icy waves crash
Leaving behind grass
Soft to touch
And hard to uproot
I am from eating overdone fried chicken
From short-lived patience
From a voicemail
That will always say
From Lucy, Tulu and Samah
From don’t eat that, it’s for the guests
And if you have to do it, do it, but I don’t want to hear about it.
From too many whys
And not enough faith
I am from Dhaka, Bangladesh
From jostling crowds and hearing a million voices outside
I am from Limerick, Ireland.
From rustic houses and quaint parishes
I am from Wallingford, Pennsylvania
From suburbia and inane boredom
From the college-genius who crashed weddings on weekends,
The woman who is still unimpressed by sushi in Japan
I am from feeling sad if you do
But wanting to make you laugh anyway
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 6:11 PM UTC
Trust is the rarest attribute
For the critical being with the narrow sky;
It's not situation demanded
for the thinnest biological attraction!
Love is the red dahlia
Blooms in the cool merry garden;
It's not the market rated vegetables
could be consumed daily on payment!
Poem 25
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
How you know him: Gurung’s label, established in 2009, reimagines traditional textiles with a sportswear attitude. January Jones, First Lady Michelle Obama, and Oprah Winfrey have taken memorable turns in his fiery red gowns.
What’s new: Gurung is teaming up with Toms this month with exclusive designs to raise funds for Nepal’s recovery from the 2015 earthquake. For each pair of shoes sold, $5 will go to Gurung’s Shikshya Foundation to support education and relief efforts.
What does heritage mean to you?
When I left Nepal and told people I wanted to be a fashion designer, they thought I was crazy. I didn’t know anyone here. But I still remember coming up to the Midtown Tunnel and seeing all the skyscrapers for the first time, and I finally felt that I was home. I became myself in America, but Nepal gave me my core. The reason I am grounded and pragmatic is simply that I was brought up this way.
What was your childhood like there?
I was born in Singapore and grew up in Nepal, where I went to an all-boys Catholic school. I was different and made aware of it. It was a challenging time, but I had an incredible relationship with my family that helped me. Trekking became a kind of escape, and I was always inspired by the Patan Museum, near my house. I still go back for the memories attached.
How is Nepal reflected in your designs for Toms, and also your foundation work?
The ikat pattern is called dhaka, a hand-loomed weave that I wanted to modernize as a digital print. Black, white, and red are very typical of Newari women [from Kathmandu Valley] and my favorite colors, which I used in my first collection. Five years ago, when I started getting all this attention, I started Shikshya with a focus on education as a way to give back. Since the 2015 earthquake, we have raised more than $1 million to help rebuild, but the process is slower than people think, and the world’s attention turns to someplace else. So it’s my job with everything I do to keep awareness alive.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
Who is walking at orange-noon?
Is a person, a living bonsai or a tiny moon
putting on master color dress?
Old sky is sending soft melodies
A smoothening smell of perfume
is following behind
As a delighted pet shaking soft tail.
I'm moving on and on keeping zero distance
Entering silently into the
core zone of a person
As a laser ray like an invisible ghost!
Poem 14
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:08 AM UTC
At mid-night I travel your lanes, sub-lanes
Fireflies offer candles
and nights know that.
But I've eaten your toxic yummy foods
I'm really mad
like a small rat!
Poem 23
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 12:42 PM UTC
City-bus is crawling one zone to another
Someone is recalling somebody silently
Entering into the dustless cool mall
I may dare to tell all the senior ladies love
May open the cellular phone.
Yellow champak smelling the teen-age
Passerby may suffer from unknown blunder
It's really an untold epic
Somebody feels someone
I may redesign my attributes
May write some lines on the corpuscles.
City-bus is entering into the yesterdays
Yellow neon-evening is moving from tomorrows
I may fall down to the stoppage
May kiss the air might touch your lips someday.
City-bus can't cross the globe
Can't find your cyber destination!
Poem 05
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
After Aishwarya Rai Bachchan gave us some impressive red carpet outings, all eyes were on Sonam Kapoor as she made her sixth Cannes appearance in a row. And boy, she lived up to our expectations in a whimsical Ralph and Russo sari-inspired gown with half cape. Her styling was bang on with pink lips, dewy makeup and middle-parted neat tresses.
Designers give thumbs up to the actor, without a second thought. “Sonam looks spectacular. I love the dramatic outfit. I loved the fact that Sonam wore no jewellery (except for a ring) and kept her hair straight with some interesting eye makeup,” says designer Manish Malhotra.
“I love this look. It is a great example of something experimentally grand and classic at the same time. I also like the jersey in the top portion, which adds a very modern and sporty vibe to a traditional embroidered half cape sari inspired gown. There is a duality I can sense here and it has surprising familiarity in terms of a classic Balenciaga vibe,” says designer Rahul Mishra.
Designer Rina Dhaka also loves her look, but believes that subtler looks can also work the same magic . “Sonam looks gorgeous. The outfit has a lot of volume, and yet it is controlled and figure hugging. I would call her a drape crusader,” she says, adding, “However, unlike Indian actors, international actors are going for understated, simpler looks. We guys tend to take on too much embroidery, making it look theatrical. These looks are bridal by western standards. But our audiences like this.”Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-melbourne
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 1:36 AM UTC
Feels are but invisible pet
sleeping on the polished table
Sometimes they wake up silently
As the frequency of air changes.
When a bluish smell comes from 3bs:
bell, butterfly, and bonsai;
A song starts singing in the media player
without any pre-loaded program;
More and more events happen within a moment;
And a smile shakes the hand touches the soul
from a clear distance!
Entering into a light blue candy
I've found an off-white emotion lying on a divan
Spreading coffee-purple smile sweet and cute.
Person is a stuff of meat, bone, blood and water;
Should I believe no more things are there-
feelings of dream?
Poem 15
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:08 AM UTC
I don't know any lady
without eyes with zero dreams!
I've found two female legs
walking on the rainbow
At the top of the tree with birds;
I've seen two hands of a damsel
touching blue lotuses
Within thrilling waves of low air!
A pea-green lady soul secreting moonlight
Around orange-sun cracking jokes with clouds.
I've perceived weighty eyes
in the deeper black lake
Swimming with multicolored fishes;
I've seen an off-white body limbless
into an unknown folder
Walking slowly on the water!
I haven't noticed any woman
flying like kites together with a butterfly!
Poem 22
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 12:42 PM UTC
It was a coffee-day
And a time of having coffee
Entering into a cool mall
Suddenly I put my hand
On the hand of moon for a while
And after a little refusal again returned
On the road without coffee!
I opened eyes on the face
And transformed myself
Into a hidden thread
That swiftly caressed and bonded moon
Within a neno-second!
I installed one trillion bits of tonic
In my hard drive!
Poem 21
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 12:41 PM UTC
Time is flying towards infinity
As an unknown operating system.
I'm losing programs from my machine
C drive is formatting without command
I'm a tree beside the street
and time is walking in front of me
I'm screaming on and on without sound
refraining without barricade.
Sorrow is a small virus dark blue
spreading spores into my blood
On the dining table a dream
or a yellowish green apple
Putting head under a sharp knife
to slice thickly as salad!
What is existing or non-existing
nothing can be shared
No pains can be measured
Is there anything beyond feelings?
Any flower sweet and unseen?
Any moon within clouds?
I'm losing pockets from my shirt;
Coins from wallet, spaces from hard drive...
Poem 13
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:07 AM UTC
I want to be a lavender orchid
on your beaming verandah
That you'll spray water
and I'll see your face every morning.
I want to be a glittering pen
in your pulpy hand case
That you'll write poems
and I'll touch your emotions every day.
I want to be a brooding pillow
on your squishy bed
That you'll sleep deep
and I'll read your dreams every night.
Poem 20
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:11 AM UTC
I've climbed up a betel-nut tree
Plucked and eaten up
a purplish-blue moon last night...
Before going in bed
I felt a soft tablet into my gullet
dissolving down...
I've truly consumed you
my baby, my bluish-purple moon!
Poem 12
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:06 AM UTC
Let's exchange some tales and jokes
And open a door of lime-green world
Liberate your welcoming eyes
I want to glimpse the entrance of heaven.
When you're near
I can't explain what's going on inside
How can I declare
you're more than moon in my sky?
I play, rewind and play yesterdays
like a cassette
Feel you full-time
I'm confined in your cell like sim card.
Poem 06
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 1:57 AM UTC