Abhijit Naskar's Blog - Posts Tagged "immigrant"
Mirror Mind (The Sonnet) | Abhijit Naskar | 300 Limericks of Inclusion
Sentience of a distant space,
I stand at your starry doorstep.
Born of carbon this simple life,
I come bearing a thread of love lace.
When will I meet my mirror mind,
When will I meet a mirror of kind!
Will all this struggle count for nothing,
Coming all this way, how can I alight!
I dreamt of you in my fiercest nights,
I craved for you in my suffering frights.
I ached for you on my brightest flights,
I trekked the galaxy seeking your sight.
Yet I remain ever so thirsty,
to drench in your monsoon smile.
When will I come to part with
this horrific state of divide!
I stand at your starry doorstep.
Born of carbon this simple life,
I come bearing a thread of love lace.
When will I meet my mirror mind,
When will I meet a mirror of kind!
Will all this struggle count for nothing,
Coming all this way, how can I alight!
I dreamt of you in my fiercest nights,
I craved for you in my suffering frights.
I ached for you on my brightest flights,
I trekked the galaxy seeking your sight.
Yet I remain ever so thirsty,
to drench in your monsoon smile.
When will I come to part with
this horrific state of divide!
Mucize Mülteci (Divine Refugee Sonnet) | Abhijit Naskar | Yaralardan Yangın Doğar
Call me misafir, call me göçmen,
This heart of mine is always migrant.
Şan ve şöhrete ben muhtaç değilim,
Benim derdim dünya, dünya dermanım.
Call me gypsy, or call me refugee,
This heart of mine is always migrant.
I’ve got no use for silicon or gold,
World is my bane, world, my ointment.
In Sanskrit I am Abhijit,
In English I am Victor.
In Arabic I am Ghalib,
In History I am Reformer.
Call me whatever you like,
Befitting your culture.
I have no reservations,
Above my human nature.
So many tongues, as many names –
Some call agua, some call pani.
Conquer the tongue, spirit is the same –
Some dub it divine, I live as humanity.
This heart of mine is always migrant.
Şan ve şöhrete ben muhtaç değilim,
Benim derdim dünya, dünya dermanım.
Call me gypsy, or call me refugee,
This heart of mine is always migrant.
I’ve got no use for silicon or gold,
World is my bane, world, my ointment.
In Sanskrit I am Abhijit,
In English I am Victor.
In Arabic I am Ghalib,
In History I am Reformer.
Call me whatever you like,
Befitting your culture.
I have no reservations,
Above my human nature.
So many tongues, as many names –
Some call agua, some call pani.
Conquer the tongue, spirit is the same –
Some dub it divine, I live as humanity.
“If you are not indigenous, you are an immigrant.” Abhijit Naskar, Tum Dunya Tek Millet: Greatest Country on Earth is Earth
On earth we are immigrants from Africa – out in space we’d be immigrants from Earth – in a different galaxy, we’d be immigrants from Milkyway. To put simply, in exploration of space, both external and internal, terms like immigrant and indigenous are meaningless. It’s the heart that makes us indigenous or immigrant, not blood.
Better a refugee than prisoner (Sonnet 1555) | Abhijit Naskar | World War Human: 100 New Earthling Sonnets
Eon upon eon I seek for a refuge,
Land upon land I receive but coldness.
Last I stand at your door exhausted,
Spare some warmth, for my heart freezes!
Stateless, cultless, I walk the planet.
Restless, sleepless, I live a dream.
Friendless, loveless, I brave the mission.
The being is dissolved for the beacon to beam.
Wield, I do, my conscience as compass.
Wear, I do, my backbone as battery.
Bouts of tragedy only amplifies my thunder,
Nature’s bare mockery makes miracle of me.
Borders are for hoarders, my home is the world.
Better a refugee to the sea than prisoner of the pond.
Land upon land I receive but coldness.
Last I stand at your door exhausted,
Spare some warmth, for my heart freezes!
Stateless, cultless, I walk the planet.
Restless, sleepless, I live a dream.
Friendless, loveless, I brave the mission.
The being is dissolved for the beacon to beam.
Wield, I do, my conscience as compass.
Wear, I do, my backbone as battery.
Bouts of tragedy only amplifies my thunder,
Nature’s bare mockery makes miracle of me.
Borders are for hoarders, my home is the world.
Better a refugee to the sea than prisoner of the pond.
