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A PART OF BARPHIKATA KHIDKI A Bengali poem by Samar Chakraborty Published by BHASA TRIPURA in August 2010. e-mail :bhasatripura@rediffmailail.com.A poetry based on GARO TRIBES OF NORTH EAST OF INDIA(Acknowledged by poet To Arnab Bhattacharya and Ranendra Sangma )”SQUIRED WINDOWS”

November 8, 2015

In a heavy pour of rain

The Lady

is waiting

with a torch of light.

melting a sketch

Sun is smiling.

All the hand grips

she bites with her teeth

for her child’s mourn.

Stretching her

All the blue  arms

stand’s to the forest.

Left behind the bodies of dead

In a city.

She offer her soul

to a wild bison

cares the home,interior.

In the boundary of  the house

she kept the horn of wild bison.

In a a new body she shall carry,by secret.

In a open sword

drops of cry

When lands to earth

fire break.

On the other side of song

Ancient Mother is crying in the cave

by the flood of light her face been to

Undefined.

If it become thunder and storm

And struck upon  happy land

chained the drum by thread

rolls to cold museum.

Trees are in tremor

and in the tide stones are ringing

in the slippery way women still standby

with effect from an eternity

tremors by their milk fever.

From the big sound of drum

bodies are curving to life

To Him in win and defeat.

In Front of a big Drum

the warrior are dancing

with their shield and  spear

on back of their waist circling their

tied clothes.

We claps

in this warrior dance

though repeats their home!

IN a shade she pluck wild flowers

Setting sun is on her footsteps.

By their return

tenderness is as before, though

Today, in the ankle has a deep wounds.

Vanishing before the bend of hill

Red and black shawl he handed over to

New couple, Alone!

In the white sheet of it has the drawing of

Eyes of wild bison.

In the neck of the Dead

Woman tied a triangular handkerchief.

Digging an arrow to land

washed her face by water in the morning.

Taking a wild hen,in the kitchen

begin the mood of rice eating

by the coloured feather

brother dressed him.

With the dust of rice

whatever she draws

cant reach to a well.

From her body

leave and twigs

fallen on her way.

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