I Fly Like a Kite

My brother taught me the first lesson
With the kite my father bought me. 
Mother taught me 
To fly like a kite.
She taught me to rush against the wind
To touch the sky.
I have been a warrior from that day
I have won against the ecstacy of the summer
I stand firm in the mellowness of autumn. 
Spring cannot excite me
And neither can winter cripple.
The scorching sun cannot burn me
And neither do I drench in the dew.
Binding myself with patience and trust 
I fight against myself. 
I fly like a kite spreading wings
A red and blue kite.

Mother had a Name

Mother had a name
A beautiful name
And she spent her childhood with that name.
Celebrated the crossroad 
Of youth and adolescence. 
She was happy with her name.
The name frequently moved
In between the paddy field of Aghon 
The big tank and the tamarind tree in Panimala's yard.
One day the name got lost
While coming across 
An approach road 
Hiding face under a bridal veil.
She turned into a wife,a mother, and an aunt.
The name was never used 
In introducing her
To guests and friends.
There was no need 
To utter her name for anyone. 
Changing quarters
From one river ghat to another 
She got wet in the rain 
And dried in the sun
And read lessons with father
Of happiness and sorrow .
But she left her name
Far behind with green splendour 
Of untameable childhood 
And adolescence.

Translated by Ananda Bormudoi

Nibharani Chaudhury is an Assamese poet based in Tinisukia, Assam.

Click here to read the original Assamese poems.