Two Poems by Mohibul Aziz

 

To Me Sorrow’s Like

To me sorrow’s like the last winter’s cold,

Could be worse and even the worst.

In Cambridge I was about to die in October

But amazement took me to November

And then emanated white Christmas.

Carols reached me into the duvet,

Jingle bells rang simultaneously—

Coldness turned to white lights.

In January icicles began flashing in the sun,

Green hopes peeped through smiling here and there.

Pity me, the tiny insects frequented to haul up

Through the snow-ladders!

I hated to be a Scrooge

And opened my door to the morning chill.

You bade me good bye at the Trinity Street

Where Ramanujan had died of double pneumonia

But I responded to the beckoning of the

Newton’s Apple Tree too.

To me sorrow’s like

The lonely cob in waiting on the Cam,

I knew the pen would be joining in a while.

A Rare Encounter

The scene suddenly flabbergasted me.

On the ill-lit pavement

The boy among the strewn clothes, papers and knick-knacks

Was stretching his hands towards the shiny paper bags

Sprawled out around him.

Pleasant smell welcomed me,

An invisible aroma wafted away from the boy

And diffused in the smoke of the four-star kitchen.

From deep inside me

An urge of an intense vehemence

Craved to proffer on his shoulder for a moment

While passing through in that split second.

But I could not,

He was not my son, only a lookalike!

Mohibul Aziz was born in Jessore, Bangladesh in 1962. He permanently lives in Chattogram where he is a Professor in the department of Bengali Language and Literature, University of Chittagong. He is the author of more than fifty books of various genres such as fictions, novels, essays and poems. All of the books are in Bengali. Private Moments and Resurrection of a Reformist are his two books of poetry.