Category Archives: Poems

Insider and Outsider

Who is the insider, and who is the outsider?
Why do you always seem so hyper?
What is the hatred for?
The hatred that excites you to wage war.
Why, when a brown man you see,
You simply tag him a Bangladeshi?

But even if one were a Bangladeshi, is being one so bad?
Are they some poison? Are they the world's scum?
Touching whom you fear you can become one?
Or is it your arrogance that makes you so mean, so mad?

‘Bangladeshi immigrants,’ you say,
Burn their houses, and drive them away,
Away from the plains and from the hills.
Only then your heart's desire fulfills.

You call them outsider,
And take pride in being the insider
But where did you come from?
The land where you freely roam,
Existed much before you did.
You, too, are an outsider indeed.

Copyright © 2021 RAMU DAS

Don’t Come into My Life Again

Don’t come into my life again
For you’d come only to make me cry
Many a gullible man still live, give them a try.
I’m done; known and lived with the pain
And all that for this life is enough
A gentleman has been made rough.

To reach you once again
Never in my wildest dreams shall I try
My eyes are parched, no water
To shed in my eyes do I find
Neither any strength in my fingers to write a letter
Full of world-weary thoughts is my mind.
So, do me a favour, don’t come into my life again
For you’d come only to make me cry.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS

Some Sympathy

The pain is more in the head
Than it is in the gum
Yet the pain in the head
Is a cause of the swollen gum.

Sleep evades tonight
I toss and turn, sigh and moan, but only in vain
For though the bed is all right, I remain in pain.
So, I switch on the light.

I call up my girlfriend and tell her I can’t sleep
And listen carefully to the modulation of her voice
And I long to hear her weep as I weep.
Alas, weeps she not but only makes some saintly noise.

I call up my mom and dad and tell them about my pain
They seem more considerate than my girlfriend
And they pray for the pain to have an immediate end
But the pain is mine own, with which some sympathy I gain.

Every now and then when I am lonely
I become ill, to gain some sympathy mainly.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS

Beware, My Friends

I am living in the land of nothingness
To the very bottom I have sunk
Happily have I all the poison drunk
For it came from my sweetheart, my princess.

When loving was convenient how madly she loved me
And such rosy pictures painted that at once made me happy
But, unknown to me, alas, the loving had an expiry date
For now in agony I sigh and curse my damnable fate.

Beware, then, my friends
And be careful of those soft little hands
That once would wipe your tears away
Next in your heart with a dagger make way.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS

Being Late

Old habits are hard to die,
Believe me, good sir, I never lie.
For everything I am always late
No matter how difficult be my state

Deadlines stare me in the eye
And mockingly go by
While I remain where I am
And act indifferent to shame

But a solid desire for being on time
Is now in me, like never before, roused
I now consider being late a grievous crime
And tomorrow, I hope, this desire is not so easily doused.

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

The Days Are Cloudy and Dark

 

The days are cloudy and dark,

And the nights are always so.

No matter whichever way I go,

I find myself stuck in the devil’s park.

I’ve now got so used to the darkness

That I no longer miss the sun.

No longer from pillar to post do I run

To seek the tricky world’s solace.

 

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

Lovebirds

Lovebirds often fight,
Make, and then break many a promises
Shed tears, wet their pillows and mattresses
But if one decides to go quiet,
The other seems unable to survive
They are, after all, each other’s delight.

Though their fights are never ending
But as a while goes
In their reasonable and unreasonable reasoning
In all gain and loss
They once again only find a new beginning
And thus their love keeps renewing

That’s how love birds are –
In love while being at war
Near, ever when afar.
Seem uncaring but they care.

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

 

Upon Making a Mistake

Even a minor mistake rattles me
When made, shame engulfs, guilt overpowers
And a cloud of sadness around my head hovers
I would have been better off without being so silly!

The thought of having made a mistake,
Of having not been more careful,
And of having made myself a fool
Is, although I try, difficult to forsake.

Yes, I see the mistake and I know I made it
But, no, it’s not that I don’t know
The right way of doing it and saying it.
Only for a moment I let the rein of my sense go.

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

My Wish Remains a Wish

I wish only peace could prevail between the two of us
And all the trifling arguments could come to an end thus
But, as it happens, my wish once again only remains a wish
And, alas, instead of peace what prevails is the disease
And as the days further, the disease only spread and spread
Though I could’ve wished a little more, but from wising now I dread.

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

Resolutions!

It is that time of the year,

In the name of god we swear,

And ourselves we bind

With promises in mind.

Last year, one resolution crumbled,

“Oh, no,” I said, then another.

I wanted to be stiff but I fumbled.

Slowly did I all resolutions mar.

Again, then, this time, my mind is brimming

With thoughts and plans for the future;

In public I shan’t commit so big a crime as lying.

So, listen, this is going to be a great year!

Copyright © 2016 RAMU DAS

As I See You Growing

When out you came into the world
And spread your limbs and made such faces
Like some unwanted exclamations and dashes
A season of great festivity was unfurled.

What joy, oh what joy I derive as I see you growing!
When you fuss, when you cry and when you sing;
When with anger, stuffs from your hand you fling
And defying reason when with joy you leap
In your mother’s wardrobe when you peep;
And when the oversized clothes you try wearing
When you learn, when I know you are knowing
What joy, oh what joy I derive as I see you growing.

I want to tell you all I can
For none loves you more than I, or your mother, do.
Though there will be many a man
Who with an ocean of flattery will try your heart to woo.

Innocent though you are, but of the world you cannot be sure
Society, sweetheart, is knitted by hard and soft strings.
Turbulences and tornados just as admiration and accolades
Are restless birds and never cease fluttering their wings.
Know right from wrong and be careful equally of saints and sods.
But discard not the noble thoughts in you and your heart keep pure.

Copyright © 2015 RAMU DAS

Ah, Onion!

Kill him and cut him, and he will make you cry
Rightly so, madam, if you end his story,
He, too, will make you feel sorry.
And you get no pardon till your tears run dry.

For the price of onion I’d gladly drink more wine,
And then life, my dear, would just be fine, oh so fine.
But you want onion and tons of onion
For every occasion you bring him on and on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Indian kitchens, onions are as essential as salt in curry (I am exaggerating a little, but it is essential nonetheless). With the soaring prices of onion in the wholesale market, the retail price has risen so much as to make a hole in our – or, at least, in my – savings.

Copyright © 2015 RAMU DAS

Knowing

I am a seeker of knowledge,
Wherever it flies I grab
And the more I know;
How little I have known, I realize.

Those who know look so plain,
So simple and humble,
That you won’t believe
They know anything at all.

The knower know what they know
They believe in what they believe,
And till their last breath
They live by their values and principles.

On the other hand, there are some
Who think they know what they do not know
And claim to have mastered
Things which are fantastic, just out of the world!

A foreigner to a vast land
Will from one instance generalize the whole,
But a native knows the true story,
And this knowing makes all the difference.

Copyright © 2015 RAMU DAS

A Romantic Clown

A tramp, I move here and there.
Take my words and don’t look me up and down,
I am not a romantic hero, I’m a romantic clown.
And I fear I will never reach anywhere.

While passing by I may lend you a helping hand.
When beguiled, all my possessions I may gladly share,
And, what’s more, even my love for you I may declare!
Can then I hope in rainy days you will by me stand?

But, ah, you flout my feelings and you seem suspicious
A tramp, a romantic clown, I keep on moving here and there,
I’m not a substantial man now you know and I’m not religious.
Anew I begin my journey but I fear I will never reach anywhere.

Copyright © 2015 RAMU DAS

A Damsel Once Found Me Interesting

Much to my surprise a damsel once found me interesting,
And did all the things that a lover tends to do
Tried to understand my joy and my woe
One thing led to another, and our thoughts kept linking.

On my part I was quite unclear from the start,
If she knew lust from love; then which was she truly implying?
However, the validity of her love I refrained from questioning
And let the artist have a free hand on her art.

As days went by, my suspicion grew stronger and stronger
And like Sherlock I began reasoning,
Drew a conclusion and began wondering
How in plain words to her shall I my thoughts decipher.

After a while, as it very often happens,
The affair took a gloomy turn
And nothing of her old love remains
And her memories now I burn.

Copyright © 2015 RAMU DAS

A Song by Mirabai

If by bathing daily God could be realized
Sooner would I be a whale in the deep;

If by eating roots and fruits He could be known
Gladly I would choose the form of a goat;

If the counting of rosaries uncovered Him
I would say my prayers on mammoth beads;

If bowing before stone images unveiled Him
A flinty mountain I would humbly worship;

If by drinking milk the Lord could be imbibed
Many calves and children would know Him;

If abandoning one’s wife could summon God
Would not thousands be eunuchs?

Mirabai knows that to find the Divine One,
The only indispensable is Love.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I came across this song while reading ‘Autobiography of a Yogi’. It was written by Mirabai and translated to English by Paramahansa Yogananda.