a poem by Anjum Alam
born in the year six with nothing preceding
they look at me crazy while asking
Who was first?
to this white man’s land.
fury reigns supreme with
its tender boiling. so now I
blow under the skin-soil of our mother
where waves tether to a miracle moon.
tilted half-mast they plant their flag on
our nanar bari. so now I
take a stone to the window of a Nissan
my blood red, the brick bloody.
an owl leans into the twilight
and spins upon its center. I
circumvent until the mustard fields
burn my steps to the earth.
skin singed ash ascends
I walk the dead. I
pray on a whispered edifice
Are you here?
I am, and I cannot help
but bask in the fading light of a world sent ablaze.
TRANSLATIONS:
“vaang gari” is Bangla for “break a car.” It refers to the Bengali people’s public outrage or protests in which people would randomly destroy public and private property in a fit of rage.
“nanar bari” is Bangla for “maternal grandfather’s house,” or “homeland.”