The Undead Robots

by Pijush Kanti Deb

The undead robots we are today,
made diplomatically by the dead brains,
paralyzed to the epics scanned by turns
by the dynamic and enthusiastic neighbor,
surprisingly ambidextrous in refusing the nectar
while a glass of hemlock is preferred to drown.
Counseling, good wish and blessing-the pearls
quite generous and tolerant to our thorny attitude,
yet their dropping on us is unfelt and unpicked
and putting two and two together today
seems to be unable to create a better equation.
Tomorrow is ever-hopeful, so ascertained
for a giant touch of an honest morning-
rewarding us a luminous sun, rising.

Divine Distribution

by Pijush Kanti Deb

I feel lucky enough to be posted here
with a mission to accomplish
along with other
by my Boss- a great soul,
in the name of whom
swearing proves its honesty.
Blissful I am to work for him,
hopeful for due remuneration
and watchful for a post-man
bringing my earned money
sent by my great Boss.
On the wheels of time
days, months, and years-
the running vehicles,
carrying the post-man,
stop near my hut
but no post-man is available
to knock my closed door
and no kind hand is extended
to fill my emptiness up.
Report blames the mighty and the shrewd-
claiming the money by force,
pillaging  the post-man mercilessly,
creating the problem of haves and have-nots
and compelling the almighty Boss
to think about adopting
an alternative distribution
of favors divine.

Maybe and Hence

by Pijush Kanti Deb

In the slum of huts and skyscrapers,
let our steps be crossed the line-
drawn by our own pride and contumacy,
and be rushed towards the ocean of tears.
Maybe,
our haughty hearts raise their palpitation,
brimful pockets move their heads
to their either sides again and again,
the planets and satellites ---
luminous in our own brightness
get self-eclipsed and become gloomy,
the bitterness of failure of yesterday
disturbs the steps to fall by a slip
and unknown tomorrow suffers from
the biting of our own blood.
Hence,
let our proceeding steps are to be delinked
from babbling tongues and timid hearts,
our mortal eyes and ears be sanctioned a leave,
the line only be crossed with the hint of
the immortal sensation of our souls
and our tears be dropped  in the ocean
to tarnish it into a manageable river.

Diplomatic Eloquence

by Pijush Kanti Deb

The angry fields are calm and empty-
rebels are now quite spontaneous,                    
maybe, compelled and enchanted too
to take a shelter blissfully inside
the strong clutches of the superiors.

Let’s feel, the magic of diplomatic eloquence-
as in the previous scene,
roaring- verbal or of arms,
chased to tarnish retaliation,
warned against unfavourable unity
and marched to trample the raising heads,
amazingly all additions were equal to zero.

Fire, nevertheless, was alive
lying under the blanket of ashes.
A set of intellectuals and updated brains
combined together dumping the arms,
hours of whispering and counter – whispering
gave birth to an effective plan to produce
‘’Sweet Knife’’ –polished by enchanting eloquence
and sharpened by all the goodness of
gifts, rewards and awards.

Look, with in a moment, all toddling steps
join in a procession on the straight street
leading to the clutches of the muscular hands,
getting cut their throats of rebellion
with neither a wail, nor a repentance in
surrendering their future to the eloquent present.

Prayer of a confused life

by Pijush Kanti Deb

Look, a life walks on carrying God and Devil
on its either shoulder,
remains ever-confused and hesitated
as the inspiration and the temptation
both flow into the cavities of its sensation.

Feel the thrill of a tag-of-war
played between God and Devil
making a life as a rope round the clock
and pulling it towards them to own it.

But a sacred life is blissful and fearless
to show its back to Devil in bowing down to God
and pray generously from the depth of heart,
‘’Let our smile be bloomed on others lips
a hut be built in others heart
comfort be felt by the plaster on others wound
and a life be lived with all sacrifices
to compel God to smile on our lips’’.

It looks at the Devil and continues its prayer
‘’Let our selfishness be handicapped
in sharing the causes of smiles and enjoyments,
the flames of anger be extinguished
Before humiliating the respectful and useful,
Lustful passion be arrested with in a moment
Before biting the soft skin of honour
And a life be lived with all cleanliness
To compel Devil to maintain
A million mile distance from a sacred life.’’

A Slap----The Slavery System

Pijush Kanti Deb
                                                     
On 18th October, 2013---
the tears of the headlines of news-papers
submerged the hearts of the sensitive readers
and they were ashamed of the news ---
‘’The existence of 36 million slaves in the world’’
who earn and feed the shameless resourceful.
It was a slap on the pride of the babbling world-
claiming as modern, scientific and up-to-date,
climbing up almost near to heaven-
leaving behind the barbaric stains of centuries.
‘’Hunt or be hunted’’ was immersed
in the deep of dark history,
‘’Live and let live’’ is chorused to worship humanity,
blissful  we are to live a life and save a life,
moderate too to apply the virtues simultaneously
to the botanical and zoological welfare
and sincere to the messages of the divine messengers.

Nevertheless, something wrong in the air,
a sympathetic heart can realise the hidden weeping
that reverberates in the air and the sky
in the gap of tumultuous enjoyments.
Self-criticisers came forward and excavated
the universal body of mankind
and uncovered millions of hidden weeping faces,
empty hands and bare bodies full of black spots and stains,
recognised they were as slaves.

A heart-quake is felt by the humanitarians
and demolition of skyscrapers of civilisation is witnessed,
caused by greed and cruelty to obtain something more-
a common ornament of uncivilised society of black history,
still embellishes some blood- sucking demons and Draculas.

Hark, the humanitarians!
 Let our invidiousness be elapsed
in recognising the bloodsuckers,
our honesty, sympathy, kindness and benevolence
be stood against them with a collaboration of God’s grace,
 a new sunshine of freedom be illuminated
the future of the captive slaves forever,
and our civilisation  be decorated with the glittering
smiles of the slaves -rescued and rehabilitated .

Happy Durga Puja

 from Pijush Kanti Deb 

Simplicity

by Pijush Kanti Deb

Ought not to take advantage
     From the sacred simplicity
Or not to cross over the edge
     Of its patience or dignity.

Simplicity is the divine identity
     Of honesty in earthly paradise
A stout in ethical quality
     And blissful with virtues to colonise.

So open and vast is the heart
     That the universe gets into it
The holy soul may construct
     A home for God to inhabit.

The warning is to be remembered,
     Ought not to play with simplicity,
It is to be respectfully spared
     To evade the judgement of divinity.