The flowers in my garden,will not be tied today__
leave the colourful threads,
let the gold and silver tassels remain where they are.
Hearing this the family asks,
‘if they are not tied
how will we hold them__
or decorate our vases?’
‘today they are on leave like the dancers,
their laughter is uncontrolled,
movement is disorderly
in the woods in the late afternoon,
of the last month of the Bengali calendar.
watch their playful games,
listen to their sweet and low indistinct sound,
and be happy.’
My friend exclaimed,
‘I came to your house
thirsty to drink a whole cup ,
you like a crazy person replied,
today I have broken
that old plain cup!
Why are you not playing the perfect host?’
I tell ,’let’s go to the fountain,
the current is flowing according to its pleasure__
some are wide ,some narrow.
some are flowing from peak to peak,
others are hiding in the cave.
In between there are bulky stones
stopping the stream from flowing like an age old bandit,
sometimes the root of the tree
spreads its fingers like a beggar__
whom do they want to catch in the glistening water!’
The people of the committee say ,
‘this is your untied pigtail’s message__
where did the imprisoned one go?’
I replied,’you will not recognize her today;
her seven strand necklace has lost its shine,
there is no spark in her bracelets set in ruby.’
They said ,then why are we after her?
what can we get from her?’
I said ,’whatever we can get from the flower tree and the branches mixed together.
from the leaves we can see the colours,
we get the scent from the blowing breeze.
The open air from all sides gives a feeling of intoxication.
they are not there for you to hold in your hands,
but to know them
without any attachment
in their own surrounding.’