Issue: Vol. IV, No. 1, May-July, 2025
Raag Asavari
Deeply immersed
I listened to the rhythm
of Hariprasad Chaurasia's flute
moving gradually from leisurely to fast tempo
What a profound combination
of compassion and sadness
As if it was
the remnant of a lost pain
Making my mind listless
a tune spread that compassion and sadness like roots
in each and every vein of my bosom
As if I found
in that very tune of his flute
an infinite irresistible pain
and an insufferable sadness
shaking my heart.
My Country
This very country is mine
A country of crores of starved people
where there is procession of hungry people.
This is the country which is mine
washed by thousands of rivers and runnels,
brooks and streams—
a country nourished by rivers
where
devastating floods strike and
people line up for a drop of water.
This very country is mine
A land of crores of people
where people face crisis
for a little blood.
This very country is mine
where the starved
sell their blood.
This very country is mine—
My green country country with crops galore
where there are processions of
hungry people
Alas!
This very country is mine
where everything is illuminated
by the shops and establishments owned by assasins and brokers.
This very country is mine
where the roaring tide of globalisation is raging
where the poor die
letting out a cry of disaster.
This very country is mine
where goes on the sale of empty stomachs of the starved—
where there is only the slogan of development
breaking the spine.
This very country is mine
where the blood of the poor
is sold openly
Alas! My country.
Translated by Uttam Duorah
Bijoy Kumar Dutta is a poet and children’s book author. He has published one collection of poems.
Uttam Duorah, the translator, retired as the HoD, English, Women’s College, Tinsukia and is based in Tinsukia, Assam.