Beyond Land and Time

The Rivers, Stars and Men

(Nôdi, Nôkshôtrô, Mānush)

Translated by Nirmalendu Goon

“Why don't you sit near this water? Joljhiri is the river's name,

full of wonders; but I call her Jhauboni—”

almost noiselessly I said,

“look at the raising lofty jhaubon and the nests across the

banks of the river.” We then sat silent

on top of grass for a while,

but we two struggled hard in search of words, in vain,

as if the river has gone away so far from us, that sky does not

exists any more in our minds today ;

melancholy too is non-existent, only

the sounds of dropping leaves and the moving of the waves ;

as if nothing is left for the universe.

One day, I know, we had our minds filled up

with waves of desires.

“Sitting under the stars we two listened to the tales of the dews,

sitting on the grass—glancing at each other's eyes—

hands on hands, breaths on breaths blended before we knew

like the soil's-smell aspire the blooming of grass in our hearts,

as the earth tries to hide her desires in paddy, khoi and grass.

“Sitting inside the dome of desires, drifting away

from the splashings

of the earth, the sunshines, the bloods and the summons … 

our occupied hearts at least won over

this earth for a flash.”—I said.

“But the ultimate truth is our minds − not these rivers”.

This is what she mumbled so mutely in reply.

I told her: “May be our love

will carve out a new form on this earth;

Today we are merely sitting here—void of all desires;

—a day of shalik, pigeons, clouds and

the setting sun all around;

Here the leaves of the trees are turning grey—yet

you will find peace

spreading your yellow anchol on the grass

if you come one day silently falling down like a comet;

then you will not have to ogle

at the evening river with blank eyes

blocked in an impasse—; you won’t stop talking—whatever

secrets hidden today will regain soul in darkness; spread out;

all that you have forgotten—all those simple feelings—will regain their lost clarity”— having said

all this it seemed, as if, men are wailing in repentance;

dark water of the rivers ask

to make life steady with the touch of love—

without losing track of one’s wisdom if lovelorn;

like this river and like this woman

who are absorbed in their own realities.