Naba Kishor Pujari
Metro Life - Poem by Naba Kishor Pujari
In the days of my later childhood, my grandmother
Was reminding me of arrival of a night
She often used to ask me to read infront of lantern
In our village; when sun set, darkness prevails
After the day full play of sun ends,
Darkness conquers over time
Night in a village is so welcoming as if it ends tire.
When I grew older, I moved to metro
filled with a bunch of golden dreams,
Immersed with the metro culture,
I thought that life is meaningless
if not lived in a metro;
As if all dreams to be big and broad
are cultured here
As if all esteemed and recognised people
But I had thought of many things
Which were glittering of being so
I had to learn that nothing is anything
that one perceives;
In a metro, halogen rules over the darkness
Can anyone hear the blow of evening conch-shell of
A village temple here?
The mildness of the day here turns into
An uncouth night,
Far and wide hunger and hunger,
Hunger for money, hunger for power,
Hunger amidst relishing between two wormy thighs.
Metro is set to play role as a time
to quench each and every thirst.
The cry of innocence, the call of an unheard tune,
The acute stroke of one’s conscience;
All gets a deaf ear here.
One may find pretence
in return of appeal
One may eventually come across disgrace
in return of love.
In metro, no one is here to stare for others.
The dew filled grass of a winter morn
The chirping of birds in a mango tree
Hesitate to share credits with the midnight.
You can bargain here dream, success, name-fame
With your penny
Everywhere the startling greed is offered
Who knows which would reign over the next morning?
What it may leave for us
Even we share spoon and chat closely,
The metro dresses up with made-up promise and
Breeds quarrelsome deals
Where is the life, where is the blessings of elders?
Who guides you here on your daily routine?
With the swelling crowd in metro,
I still sense bits of loneliness
Loneliness in the palms of a beggar,
Loneliness in the heart of a beloved
Loneliness in the strength of an unwaged youth
People in metro stay closer but live faraway
Who cares what happens in the neighbours cabin
When you draw the curtains of your window
You hardly see any soul in the undusted air
Affinity is rarely knocked
I long; if at all the metro comes to embraced me
And teaches me lessons on co-existence.
What the most of you see may not be
The real sight,
What the most of you think may not be
The real actions
A net of fake fable is being shielded
In the apartments of metro.
When the light that scatters the nightly glooms
I remind my native village in many ways.
Comments about Metro Life by Naba Kishor Pujari
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.