Bind me, oh dreams

For only in your chains,
I’m free! 
Wind me in your reel,
tie my feelings
launch my longings,
they want to flee.

Slack the rope when the time comes,
let my wilderness flow endlessly.
Guide me to the place I belong,
I’m too naïve to decide for me.

Tighten the grip when the wind carries me away,
Don’t let me be blinded by the storm.
This too shall pass, just like a nightmare;
Lead me to the skies which say –
“your dreams are here to stay!”

~KMnO4

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Strangers

When the moon rose, we met;
Just like two shooting stars on a dark sky.
To find solace, we race;
Lost yet found, as the moon struggled to guide.

Left out to fight all alone;
Lovers deserted, strangers owned.
Even the sky did moan
Seeing us lost in a land unknown.

Forgot our paths, we still stride;
Sinners and losers, flawed yet shining.
Lost our faith but not our pride;
Ignored and despised, falling yet rising.

A flame I seek, I find in you;
To light my heart, I never knew.
The poem of life, on the sky we sew;
So soft your words, like the tender dew.

And in the journey our friendship grew,
As stories of life together we brew,
Moving across galaxies we flew,
Into a mysterious world just we knew.

 

 

~KMnO4 and The Little Boy

Purpose of Life

Lately, I have been wondering a lot. Maybe, I have delved into a deep state of introspection, I don’t know why. Or Maybe, it’s just a mood-swing—a phase that shall pass.
 
Whatever it be—what is my ‘Purpose of Life’— this is something that is bugging me a lot. I also had a healthy debate on this topic with one of my friends. He feels that there is no such purpose of life— life is meaningless and that I’m too afraid to accept the ‘meaninglessness of life’.
 
And maybe he’s right. Maybe everything in this world is meaningless and there is no specific purpose of life. And I’m finding it hard to accept because it puts the very existence of human life or any other form of living matter into a realm of insignificance.
 
But maybe, he’s not. Maybe, everyone has a purpose of life and my friend is too afraid to accept it and has chosen the easy path of oblivion for a pseudo state of happiness instead of taking the toil to find his purpose of life.
 
My beliefs have been fluctuating like a pendulum throughout the continuum of time. And I’ve always believed in the inconsistency of human mind. There was a time, I believe, when I too acknowledged in the meaninglessness of life. But now, I have a totally opposing view. Or to say the least, I doubt the meaninglessness of life.
 
What I feel now is that life can’t be so meaningless. Everyone must have a purpose of life. And achieving that purpose of life can only make living fruitful. Else, why were we born? Even if winning the race of sperms was a random act of chance, its aftermath is something for us to script. That tale has to be something unique, something meaningful— if not to others, at least to oneself.
 
That story can’t be something mundane, something too generic. Thus I believe in the ‘Purpose of Life’, and that the purpose of life can’t be getting born, growing up, getting a job, earning money, getting married, having sex, having kids and dying. Will the purpose of life be so simple? No, there has to be something significant! I accept all of these may be integral part of human life, but none of them can be that significant purpose of life. I believe, everyone has a specific purpose of life if identified properly and chased, he can leave a mark on this world.
 
Sadly, most of us won’t accept we have a purpose of life; most of the others who do, can’t find his own; and only a few accepts, finds it, chases and succeeds in achieving it. That makes him happy and frees him from having any regret on his death-bed. Fame and money can be a by-product, not necessarily generated in every such case.
 
What is this purpose of life? I don’t know. I’m still exploring.
 
Again, I may be totally wrong and my views may change tomorrow.
 
 
~KMnO4

Biplob

Moi dekhisu manuh ononto (verse 1)
Mukhot hai ofuronto
Debotar bhau juri danobor kaam kori
Rosa salonar mayajal
Mitha mitha pati kotha kora moromor misa beha
Kal-xorpo jen sirokal
Tohote nibisaro mur xofolota, nibisaro mur arugota
Parile mari haan, tololoi taani aan- eyai jen guna-gotha
Hoi urabatori bagoribo moi modahi, letera mur soritro
Proti nikha jen mur babe ondho omabosya
Xurjyogrohon jen mur proti nobo digonto
 
 
Tothapitu ujolim, xabotim oporixim aakakhor nilima (chorus)
Morohibo tohotor horxito mukhoni, sai hobo obhimaan
Ajiu moi dekha nai, puwa nai, sina nai xurujor porichoy
Pise ase mur habiyakh,neusi porihakh xaturim mohanod
Ase mur obhilakh-X2
Rosim moi itihakh-X2
Eya je biplop
Xotru xabodhan
 
Moi dekhisu bodhutyo (verse 2)
Bonddhutyo jen mathu ek xobdo
Kun xosa kun misa taan sina fali mukha
Xokolu jen nila-xiyal
Xuhi xuhi tej xuhi, ho tohot porojibi
Sariu-dikhe gutha mokorar-jaal
Xukhor dinot loga heta-upora, pau bipodot nixongota
Beya pa xomalusona, ku-kormotu bisora bhuwa proxonkha
Nidile nohoi moi bhal bondhu; bondhu nohoi jen beshya matro
Tohotok lage mathu lage; Xogun xokuwa sarthoporota
Bodhutyo—Jen nai kunu ortho
 
Tothapitu ujolim, xabotim oporixim aakakhor nilima (chorus)
Morohibo tohotor horxito mukhoni, sai hobo obhimaan
Ajiu moi dekha nai, puwa nai, sina nai xurujor porichoy
Pise ase mur habiyakh,neusi porihakh xaturim mohanod
Ase mur obhilakh-X2
Rosim moi itihakh-X2
Eya je biplop
Xotru xabodhan
 
Moi dekhisu bohu xonto mohonto (verse 3)
Mukhere borokhe baani nirontor
Ki bhal ki beya, diba-nixai diye diha
Jen nije mathu gyanor bhandaar
Dinot bhokot, rati bolotkari probansok
Aru koribo ahise aamar bisaar
Mukhot raam raam, hatot khonjor; noriya vagobot-gita
Nijor niyom nijor sartho, aanok xuxon protarona
Sinu tohotok Bogoli-bhokot, tohot thog durdanto
Niyom-kanoonor sokrobehu xaji koribo bisora muk dikhohara
Tohotor niyom kanoon hoi mathu ek sokranto
 
Tothapitu ujolim, xabotim oporixim aakakhor nilima (chorus)
Morohibo tohotor aapluto mukhoni, sai hobo obhimaan
Ajiu moi dekha nai, puwa nai, sina nai xurujor porichoy
Pise ase mur habiyakh,neusi porihakh xaturim mohanod
Ase mur obhilakh-X2
Rosim moi itihakh-X2
Eya je biplop
Xotru xabodhan
 
~KMnO4
 

Morisika

“Omanikhar akulota
Nirobota mathu amar kakhot
Uroniya mon kumoliya
Joontiu lukaise jen lajot
Kiba kuwa, kiba khuna
Tumi aukhir joon mur hridoyor
Endhar nikha, tumi xikha
Tumi xur jen mur hepahor
Enedore dubahut dubahu thoi thaku sirokal
Buku duru duru kope bhakha hoi nitaal
Sinaaki onubhutir porichoy
Spondon modhumoi
Faguni botah jaake janu ki koi
Hridoyot kihor proloy
Osin ojan madokota
Kio baru jole soga
Kihor bhorom, kihor trikha
Kio iman unmadona
Tumar majot palu dhora
Tumar babei mur mon pothar
Tumak pabo, tumak subo
Bogai ahim hazaar pahar
Akakhere lori juwa popiya torati nu ki pai
Kijaniba khihotoke tumare senehe moohi jai
Mayabi Junaaki poruwai
Kio ba aji motoliya geet gaai
Misiki hahiti uruwai
Juwa mur ondhokar aatorai”
~KMnO4

Familiar Unfamiliar||Sinaki Osinaki

Familiar faces, unfamiliar hearts;
Everyone is lost, wearing masks.
There is so much chaos, I’m tired;
The blueness of the blue sky is blurred;
That familiar tone of sifung calls me endlessly…
Familiar faces, unfamiliar hearts;
Everyone is lost, wearing masks.
 
Such is the tenderness in mother’s voice;
Warmth of love is so pleasant.
By the river, in the soothing breeze
Is life-calming intoxication.
In the autumn-night’s moonlight
Grass like tender dreams arise.
Nudged by the Jasmine flower’s fragrance,
My heart starts flying endlessly.
Familiar faces, unfamiliar hearts;
Everyone is lost, wearing masks.
 
Looking back into the past-sweet memories,
Strength of heart turns into bold melodies.
Looking back into the past-sweet memories,
I find those simple cultural philosophies.
Country stories, Mula Joymoti,
And Lachit’s Saraighat.
Grandma’s those Borgeet prayers
Tremble silently in my heart.
Familiar faces, unfamiliar hearts;
Everyone is lost, wearing masks.
 
For the sky-thirsty people,
For the mask-sick age,
Knitting with Sifung flute’s tune,
I compose this new melody
With true love of the heart,
With sweet emotions of the mind.
 
Familiar faces, unfamiliar hearts;
Everyone is lost, wearing masks.
 
 
Familiar faces, unfamiliar hearts;
Everyone is lost, wearing masks.
There is so much chaos, I’m tired;
The blueness of the blue sky is blurred.
That familiar tone of sifung calls me endlessly…
Familiar faces, unfamiliar hearts;
Everyone is lost, wearing masks.
 
~KMnO4
PS:
Sifung- A traditional bamboo flute of the Bodo tribe in Assam.
Mula- Mula Gabharu was the wife of Phrasengmung Borgohain, the then Ahom commander. Mula Gabharu, died fighting against the Muslim general Turbak Khan of Bengal in 1532 A.D. to revenge the death of her husband at the hands of the enemy.
Joymoti- Joymoti Kuwori was the wife of Ahom Prince Gadapani. She was accorded the honorific Soti or Sati on account of her heroic endurance of torture until the end, dying at the hands of royalists under Sulikphaa Loraa Roja without disclosing her exiled husband Prince Gadapani’s whereabouts, thereby enabling her husband to rise in revolt and assume kingship. (The crucial point being the title was given to a woman who put up a valiant fight; widows committing Sati was not common in Assam, as it was in Bengal.)
Lachit Borphukan- Lachit Borphukan was a commander in the Ahom kingdom known for his leadership in the 1671 Battle of Saraighat that thwarted a drawn-out attempt by Mughal forces under the command of Ramsingh I to take back Kamrup. Lachit beheaded his maternal uncle for showing laxity in the construction of an embankment for the protection of the Ahom Kingdom from the Mughals, saying দেশতকৈ মোমাই ডাঙৰ নহয় which means: my uncle is not greater than my country. The best cadet of NDA is awarded the Lachit Borphukan gold medal.
Borgeet- A Borgeet is a vaishnava devotional song, popular in Assam. Literally meaning great songs, Borgeets were composed by Srimanta Sankardev and Sri Madhavdev in 15th to 16th century. They were written in Brajaboli language.
(It is my attempt to translate the song ‘Sinaki Osinaki’ by Papon. I tried my best. Forgive me if I could not do justice to the song _/\_ .)

The Awakening

Speak to me,
I don’t hear any voice;
The noise has deafened me.
 
For you, it’s a deal—
Corrupt me with your words;
The herd misleads me.
 
For it’s you, whom I trust;
Your lies are for me to take
Again, even if it’s a mistake.
 
So, wake my soul;
Pull me with your aroma,
For I don’t want to learn to live in coma.
 
For long I have stayed asleep,
Now, it’s time to take a leap;
If it is to be, let my faith on you get my soul ripped.
 
I want to dance in the rain.
I want to sing in my pain.
I want to dream again.
 
Let your darkness engulf mine,
For mine alone is too weak to shine;
Together we can explode like landmines.
 
Stoke my psyche,
Let my temptations show its ire;
We all are sinners of our lust and desires.
 
You lie to me,
And I’ll lie to you
If that can act as fuel.
 
So, stir the revolution;
Let the flames dance in the fire,
And spirits be awakened in the graveyard.
 
Take up your arms;
Let World War III begin,
Let sacrifices be made, if the need be.
 
~KMnO4
 

The Mystic Wolf

In the light of the fireflies
She walks by the stream;
Her eyes glow a smile
That could light up the hill.

Far away a wolf cries;
Evil eerie in the scream.
Lonely night and the fireflies
The echoes make her cringe.

The fireflies hypnotize;
A lullaby is what they sing.
Nothing else in her sight;
She dissolves in her dream.

Mystic wolf comes alive
Behind her by the stream;
Slowly pounces on her,
Swallows her in her dream.

~KMnO4

Coal

I am the opposite of the word “perfect”. I have a lot of flaws. Now, I won’t say that I’m very proud of my imperfections or “I am who I am”! No, I won’t show that “I don’t want to change, accept me the way I am” kind of attitude. I really feel if something is wrong in me, and I know that, I should try to change it. I should improve. And, I’m constantly working on it. It’s not because I want to impress anyone or something; I just want to be a better person.  But despite my flaws I have a few good qualities too. A few good qualities that, maybe, I am proud of. And when you meet someone, in the beginning, you get to see only these few good qualities, which maybe every man possesses. And then slowly, as you bond closer, you start exploring the person and knowing the bad ones too. Now, I won’t say, the earlier ones were the fake ones and the later ones are the real ones. My identity is the summation of my good qualities and the bad ones— the good ones which I want to strengthen and widen, and the bad ones which I want to lessen and leave. Instead of despising me after knowing my bad qualities and maybe abandoning me, you should give some time and maybe help me improve it. Instead of just leaving me or talking behind my back, maybe you should say on my face the things that you don’t like or maybe, you think, I should change. Remember, only the lucky ones whom I consider close get to know my bad qualities. I don’t go on showing them to everyone on the road. And in spite of all that, if you choose to leave, it is you my friend, who is the loser and not me. Even the diamond starts as coal! And this time, I mean it.

~KMnO4

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