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DAS, Jibananda


We Both Are Here, Again


We both are here, again,

in memory of sound bird’s river of light.

Thought we both are

Egyptian mummies.

Slumbering from morn to evening.

Sporting ourselves as a morning breeze,

swaying clusters of green leaves,

or becoming a twig of emblica, sal,

or even turning into silver hued falling rain,

pretending to be all of the above—

just you and me.


We died so many times over and over again

in many cities, bazaars, waterways,

amidst blood, fire, blurred decadence,

in the darkness of inauspicious moment.

Even then, we pined for light, courage, and life.

We cherished these in our heart

and be history-bound.


Our nest, we built somewhere.

It shattered into pieces and we cried.

On froth of the ocean, we giggled.

We loved our life.

Light—more light passed away!


If men depart today,

humankind will remain here,

curdled dewdrops will become

in the parlance of history, the capital

of man and woman.