Babru Bahan Samal's Blog, page 2
January 2, 2016
A Child of Many Mothers
When my daughter was ten or so
Someone wanted to know
Who her mom was
I have many moms, she said
In the community I belong
Each auntie has been a mom to me
Taking care of me, feeding me
Putting me on her lap when I cried
In a place
Far away from the motherland
Bondage develops between people
Because of the language they speak
Or a tradition they honor
Kinship develops and grows
Creating a giant joint family
A friend in need
Becomes a friend in deed
During an illness, happiness, disaster or death
In a noisy dinner time after a cultural function
Like Diwali or pujas
Moms run after small kids to feed them
Sometimes
One mom’s baby becomes the baby of all
They put him or her to sleep on the lap
Making sibling out of other’s babies
In a microcosm in Americas.
Someone wanted to know
Who her mom was
I have many moms, she said
In the community I belong
Each auntie has been a mom to me
Taking care of me, feeding me
Putting me on her lap when I cried
In a place
Far away from the motherland
Bondage develops between people
Because of the language they speak
Or a tradition they honor
Kinship develops and grows
Creating a giant joint family
A friend in need
Becomes a friend in deed
During an illness, happiness, disaster or death
In a noisy dinner time after a cultural function
Like Diwali or pujas
Moms run after small kids to feed them
Sometimes
One mom’s baby becomes the baby of all
They put him or her to sleep on the lap
Making sibling out of other’s babies
In a microcosm in Americas.
January 9, 2015
The Gift of the Dawn
Defying the command of the weather outside
A new world opens up in front of me
Inside a tiny room
To look at what else is going on
In addition to killings and mayhem of being busy
Looking for confirmation to feel good
in the comfort zone of a bubble boy
The access to the coursera and mdx, youtube, vimeo and Google
That was not imaginable few years ago
To take classes for free
To virtually tour the world so diverse
Yet still so much alike in the core
The music from different lands
Enchanting once we tolerate the idea
That ours is not the best and the only one to be listened to
A new revelation
A new realization of the gift of being a human
A feeling that becomes thousand times more tantalizing
In the company of a similar minded being
Where pleasure multiplies and heals
A gift that everyone seeks and rarely one finds
***
January 9, 2015
A new world opens up in front of me
Inside a tiny room
To look at what else is going on
In addition to killings and mayhem of being busy
Looking for confirmation to feel good
in the comfort zone of a bubble boy
The access to the coursera and mdx, youtube, vimeo and Google
That was not imaginable few years ago
To take classes for free
To virtually tour the world so diverse
Yet still so much alike in the core
The music from different lands
Enchanting once we tolerate the idea
That ours is not the best and the only one to be listened to
A new revelation
A new realization of the gift of being a human
A feeling that becomes thousand times more tantalizing
In the company of a similar minded being
Where pleasure multiplies and heals
A gift that everyone seeks and rarely one finds
***
January 9, 2015
November 28, 2014
My Place in the Universe
With a tiny laptop on a tiny table
Inside a tiny room in dim light
Using my tiny fingers
Protruding from my tiny body
I try to perceive the universe
With thoughts and imagination
Fermented in me and of course
Provided profusely by unknown strangers
Philosophers, artists and scientists.
Do these images and perceptions coalesce?
To make a pretty clean soothing pleasant collage
Of what the universe is
At least to me?
I have no idea yet
Should I ever think about?
What the world thinks of me
Whether I am a weird self aggrandizing
Tiny entity entirely sustained by my own ego and feedbacks
Or am I the sum total of your anticipation
Expectation, frustration and delusions?
In the horizon of the dawn
The clouds reflect the colors of the nascent rising sun
Each displaying panorama according to its shape size and demeanor
Does it really matter how much worth me and my opinions are
Or my financial prowess or the food I devour
Or what I know and don’t
None of it is above the background of the society.
In any case I am a student, a teacher
An observer, an observant and a speck of dust
Glistening in the tiny ray of sun through the pin hole in the door.
To your world
A vast, colorful, composite
Summation, negation and acceptance
Of realities
That people present to you
To use as your eyes
To see me
And my place in the universe.
((*I*))
Babru
Inside a tiny room in dim light
Using my tiny fingers
Protruding from my tiny body
I try to perceive the universe
With thoughts and imagination
Fermented in me and of course
Provided profusely by unknown strangers
Philosophers, artists and scientists.
Do these images and perceptions coalesce?
To make a pretty clean soothing pleasant collage
Of what the universe is
At least to me?
I have no idea yet
Should I ever think about?
What the world thinks of me
Whether I am a weird self aggrandizing
Tiny entity entirely sustained by my own ego and feedbacks
Or am I the sum total of your anticipation
Expectation, frustration and delusions?
In the horizon of the dawn
The clouds reflect the colors of the nascent rising sun
Each displaying panorama according to its shape size and demeanor
Does it really matter how much worth me and my opinions are
Or my financial prowess or the food I devour
Or what I know and don’t
None of it is above the background of the society.
In any case I am a student, a teacher
An observer, an observant and a speck of dust
Glistening in the tiny ray of sun through the pin hole in the door.
To your world
A vast, colorful, composite
Summation, negation and acceptance
Of realities
That people present to you
To use as your eyes
To see me
And my place in the universe.
((*I*))
Babru
November 27, 2014
Thanksgiving to Intimate Strangers
You don’t know me
Actually you never had a need
To know me
Out of billions of people.
But I know you
Really well
You are the few
Who created my values
You set the ways
I think, listen to music
Write, read even sleep
The things I do to enjoy life
The way I talk or work.
You became the harbinger
Who thought ahead of your time
Created images, stories, tools
That defined the avenue of my life
Born centuries before me
Of decades after me
Your work defines you
Made me worship you
Adore you
And make me feel as if
I know you so intimately
Showing gratitude to you today
The Thanksgiving Day
Even though
You will never know me.
((*.*))
Babru
Actually you never had a need
To know me
Out of billions of people.
But I know you
Really well
You are the few
Who created my values
You set the ways
I think, listen to music
Write, read even sleep
The things I do to enjoy life
The way I talk or work.
You became the harbinger
Who thought ahead of your time
Created images, stories, tools
That defined the avenue of my life
Born centuries before me
Of decades after me
Your work defines you
Made me worship you
Adore you
And make me feel as if
I know you so intimately
Showing gratitude to you today
The Thanksgiving Day
Even though
You will never know me.
((*.*))
Babru
