“A Man May Cease Beating His Wife Without Thereby Creating a Wholesome Marital Relationship.”
কবিতা :How would you describe poetry? And following from your description, how would you characterize the contemporary poetry scene in Dhaka, and indeed across Bangladesh? Is there hope?
Syed Shamsul Haque: “Poetry is inspired dialogue. A poet deals with both internal or personal feeling and collective conscience…we need a collective voice for composing poetry. We are going through a drought where good poetry has become scarce.”
Syed Shamsul Haque- এই ইতিহাস ভুলে যাবো আজ, আমি কি তেমন সন্তান ?
কবিতা: Etihash kemon kore bhullam?
Ajke, baire jaan ni?
Projonmo ra to Coachella
Waiting for the reincarnation of
3(insert000s) backfromthedead Jesus looklikes anticipating the beep
Of a Mollah’s
Adaptation of Mersault on the scaffold.
Out of bamboo.
But not verses.
No thread to hang on;
Guess where I am.
Pantaloons stiff live wire;
Bangla Baazar projecting holograms of
Espionage, pre ’17;
Headphone in on
Bhaath ar Shorshey ilish,
As he spoke while chewing:
“saying:–I did those then
but that was then
that was then—“
২. Eber Shomadhan Jatra:
• …Onek Mahilar Chhobi deklam apnader modhe.
• Public Wi-fi chai, Dhaka Universitir Hall gula te jerokom den, orokom na kintu!
• Apnar mobile theke Lotus Kamal Tower er number ti delete kora chai.
• Apni 1171 shale ki korechen shunte chai……………………………………..Na.
• Scotch tape chai.
৩. Tourniquet- to pacify undesirables.
We interrupt this live transmission from the hubbub of the Old World Rentiers ,
To bring you Mr. James Baldwin reporting from the Occupied Territories, Harlem, New York, July 11, 1966..
Take it away,
“I can’t believe what you say,
Because I see what you do.”
–what’s going on over here?
You grew up here, what does that all mean,
How does it relate to what we were just talking about?
“This means that I also know, in my own flesh,
and know, which is worse,
in the scars borne by many of those dearest to me,
the thunder and fire of the billy club,
the paralyzing shock of spittle in the face,
and I know what it is to find oneself blinded,
on one’s hands and knees,
at the bottom of the flight of steps down which one has just been hurled.”
–Breaking–কেন্দ্রীয় কারাগারে 6 antebellum treasures were
Stop and frisked on their way down the elevator.
As portals rotated to a nativity scene on the ground floor,
Members of the press capitulated to the efforts of the civilized
To..to..to hug her white brother without a hack to his back.
What do they say in Washington?
Do you think that any of those unemployed, unemployable Negroes who are going to be on the streets all summer will cause us any trouble? What do you think we should do about it?
But, later on,
I concluded that I had got the second part of the question wrong,
they really meant,
… what was I going to do about it?
–ATTICA! ATTICA! What?
…I know Negroes who have gone literally mad because they wished to become commercial air-line pilots.
–What does that have to do with…
…The children, having seen the spectacular defeat of their fathers—having seen what happens to any bad nigger and, still more, what happens to the good ones—cannot listen to their fathers and certainly will not listen to the society which is responsible for their orphaned condition.
— Mr Baldwin…
–James! But, the Negroes…
…contain an incontestable vitality and authority. This is far more than can be said of the middle class which, in any case, and whether it be black or white, does not dare to cease despising him.
–Jim! Fucking stop, I can’t! I don’t want to live! This…
Occupied territory is occupied territory,
Even though it be found in that New World…
In occupied territory
that any act of resistance, even though it be executed by a child,
Be answered at once, and with the full weight of the occupying forces.
–I am on ma’ knees, on ma’ knees, on ma’ knees,
Graduate of Faulkner’s playhouse.
Been born again! Man.
I want it. I need it. Hit me:
Scaldings paint jobs;
Karon shoti, ashsholey,
ধরা পড়ছে, ধরা পড়ছে আয়নাতে চেহারা।
Karon shoti, ashsholey,
ধরা পড়ছে, ধরা পড়ছে- হাতকড়াতে হাত।
“They don’t want us here. They don’t want us—period! All they want us to do is work on these penny-ante jobs for them—and that’s it. And beat our heads in whenever they feel like it. They don’t want us on the street ’cause the World’s Fair is coming. And they figure that all black people are hoodlums anyway, or bums….
So they put us off the streets, so their friends from Europe, Paris or Vietnam—wherever they come from—can come and see this supposed-to-be great…”
Perm my intuition with polli kobi nacher gaans:
This has nothing to do with nothing,
To do with nothing to do with nothing.
–X! X! X! Ech…ss