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.