Date of Publish: 2020-01-11

A few poems of Tirthajyoti Borah

About the roots

It’s a tree

We look at

Its trunk that has grown taller

Its branches that has spread

And its refreshingly green leaves

 

So much flowers and fruits

So many birds taking reprieve

Singing

Making nests

 

Do we ever bother to think about its roots

How it has supported to keep the tree tall and standing

How it has nourished it

Groping around

Meandering along in the heart of the soil

 

Did we bother to understand their sorrows and happiness

The endless agony of exploring for eau

 

The fact that humans dig

Rivers erode

Storms lash

It’s trying its best to keep it upright

Did it ever dawn on us

The effort of blood and tears

 

O root, the artisan behind the screen

Though no one understand your value

I know that undwindled power

That undiminished example

Of extreme courage and valour

The Five Stars

The five stars– in the sky

The first one

Crawling over like climbing on a hill

Said –

I shall sow the greenery of mine

In the expanse of your heart

 

The next one

Took a dip in the sea

And quipped –

I shall smear the fresh red paint

 

The other one like a siuli flower said–

I shall sprinkle blue on it

 

Another crossed over a number of mustard field and wished-

I shall illuminate your turmeric field

 

The last lonely star

Swam upstream the dark river

And reached beside me

 

The Rains

The river flowing by the entrance

O’ sea

The backyard appears like an endless sea

O’ sky

 

It’s sea sea and sea

 

O’ cloud

O’ rain

 

The earth is now going to be destroyed

By the roaring of the river

 

The ant is moaning for the tree

 

The hills and mountains are perturbed

Restless for the green

The sky for the blue

 

How the skylark is mourning

How the house lizards are wailing

 

The house appears to be falling apart

Weighed down by the bemoaning

 

Dream

I come traversing through many seasons

I change every season– my hue changes

The colour of the marigold

I sway like flowering creeper

I am like rajanigandha with long tresses

I bloom and fall down

Like the siuli in silent darkness

I grow on the lap of life

Sprout on every step

Turn green fall down sprout again

I am not finished till I remain on its lap

I wake up again and again from the lap of death

There are many branches stairs and ladders

To climb on my body

There are many entwined roads

I am a dream

My name itself...

 

The moon hidden in the cloud

A small fire is burning inside the sea

The wave is lashing

On the entire body

 

What is the premonition

up stacked

 

It’s like the half bloomed flower of adolescence

Would bloom fully any moment

 

Through the window of the noon

My friend departed

Presenting me with a window

 

Oh-no

I shall not look at the kite

Shall not look at the sky

Shall not look either of the great void of the universe

 

Someone giggling outside

Someone knocking at the door

 

My eternal foe– the noon

The afternoon siesta was too much for it to bear

I undid the latch in anger and anguish

Looked along pushing aside the blue curtain

Only sunshine and wind

It’s a whirring song from nothingness

A crow descended crowing on the juddering plantain leave

A bulbul flew in and perched singing on the fluttering karabi

The coconut leaves bel leaves

Shaking in the wind

 

Oh! The cactus plant

How is it bearing with the sweet agony

Inflicted on it by the unknown beloved

The congenital agonies

The breathe of the fallen city

 

My friend left

Presenting me the window

I kept on gazing through the midday window

And so many... and so many

 

The setting Sun

When I worry about the ones that departed

And nothing else

What will transpire pondering over this

But the next moment everything becomes colourful

All the bright colours fill my sight

 

The departing one has disappeared at the blink of an eye

Behind the hill

As I was gazing

Transfixed

 

Where am I heading to

What happened to me

Where am I heading to

Did I veer away from my path

Which foot did I put forward?

 

When did my journey commence

Did I commit any sin

Did I carry anything with me

Or any epistle of valour

 

What lay ahead

Is it plain or a ditch

Dry or slippery

Straight or entwined

 

Am I human or inhuman

Living or lifeless

Poison-digestor or singed

Failed or sure-shot

 

What have I turned into

Where am I heading actually

 

Where have I arrived at

What are these

Steep gorge or a dilapidated bridge

Translated from original Assamese by Bibekananda Choudhury

 

About the poet

Tirthajyoti Borah is a young Indian poet writing in Assamese language. His first poem was published in Prantik, a renowned Assamese socio-cultural magazine in 1997. Since then his poems have been published in all leading literary magazines of Assam. His only collection of poetry is Bhabonar Go-dhuli (2016). He works at Satsori, a leading literary magazine of the state.