Fahad Ibne Ala Uddin
Honours & Master’s in English Literature
University of Rajshahi, Bangladesh
Hello, I am from Bangladesh. Recently I completed my Education. I hold the poems of John Donne and Robert browning very close to my Heart. I also find pleasure in the works of W. Shakespeare, Nathaniel Hawthrone, Emily Bronte, Alexander pope, Tennessee Williams, S. T. Coleridge and many more. To me, Literature is a food for emotion and Pure thought. Feminism Finds a deep corner in my heart through the Novels like ‘Scarlet letter’, ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ etc. Often I try to Express emotion in verses. I am yet to get a job and in future I would Like to take teaching or anything close to literature as a profession if I go blessed by the Almighty Allah.
A Common Man
Like a leaf of an oak
That finds it’s meaning
In some serene screaming,
A common man passes,
Unmarked behind the church,
and finds himself in masses
Of God and keeps dreaming.
Like a persevering small ant,
He toils to secure bread and butter
But the arrogant souls are deaf to his chant
Only silent sighs can he painfully utter.
Finding his humble ways mockingly smitten
And Predestined by the lords royal
How dare to them he be disloyal?
He finds at last his fate lawfully written.
Like a coy compromised creature
On his death he lays erect
Inside a coffin cheap,
In his pulp-less heart
He nourishes a secret
That Keeps crying for a peep.
In each of his mates
A secret always dwells
That never finds any scope,
His mates are of his kind
To death they are willingly blind
And start everyday with a hope.
A common man is trivial thing,
Capable of vision even after demise,
That frightens a soulful being
When he sees in those blind eyes.
His worldly unfulfilled goals
Are gained in his perpetual sleep,
Mocking at those arrogant souls
He turns over a new leaf.
Before a Statue
It is a statue I stand before
Mood of it is grave
And superior to a timber like me,
Beyond all ages as Keats says,
It will keep being brave.
Exactly it takes after an old sage
In shabby hat and grey suit
With deep dark eyes of a foreseer
That puzzles the knots of living souls
Unable to find yet God’s mysterious root.
What it really wants to mean?
My heart is dizzy to forage,
It’s oblivious creator may smile on us
Like God sculpting us as the greatest
Endowing us with layman’s wit in storage.
I wonder what his gestures endlessly sing,
Those dark eyes and wrinkles on his face,
A solo scholar I am for a blink,
The smoky aura of a saint over him
Provokes me to ponder over mind’s base.
My Magnetic Belle
With the wit of a commoner,
Not beyond reach
With the source of salty water,
Not found on the beach
With the sight of an amateur,
Culpable to thyself
The poor thyself saw you,
Not as an elf.
The gaze of mine and of others
Like the bees around you,
We felt mesmerized and magnetic
Towards a bud fresh and new,
In every inch of yours,
There was a heavenly glow
Nobody knew that my breath
Would be devoid of it’s flow.
There were you before me
In my maiden zeal and childish life,
Ever fishily blowing your aroma
Like a bird, I wanted to be in the skies
But was unaware of the Gun,
Concealed in those intoxicating eyes
You appeared as pure as a nun.
In the folks of white clouds,
I was a lone, love-stricken fly
But, pleasantly the gun was fired,
And the fly was undone on the sly.
Oh! Love! murmuring sound of a brook!
But with many brooding beaus like me
you didn’t provide any secret crook,
Rather brought me down on my knee,
ornamenting me with a wisdom finer
That Love pays back to God-gifted others,
But is surrealistic to a commoner,
Worse at writing and playing in belles-letters.
Her Image in Rain
Oh! The drops of water fall
In the mask of heavy rain
But my heart is warped by shawl,
And it wants to feel the pain.
Pain can urge the rain to heal
All the pangs she gave to me,
With me those pangs once made a deal
So I want to feel for thee.
And you drench me with your thoughts
In the sparks of mighty bolts,
As you did in all the spots
Of my heart you killed with colts.
So the deal you made with rain
And the drops are meant for fools
Now have I your words for gain,
Drops are none but worthy tools.
If this rain can throw the gloom
In my heart and through the earth,
My heart can let the nature bloom
With smile of your’s that needs on birth.
Of this world is sorrow’s home,
But the rain can shield my mood,
In the dark when thunders roam
I can fade with my love’s food.
This food is not full of spice,
Nor does it need praise of thine
Words of it come from your lies
Lies that made me call you mine.
This time I have on May’s eve
On the floor inside my single room
Can send me on an ever leave,
And paints me as your oozing groom.
The name you have mingles with joy
Fragrance it is that grows in rain,
To mix with drops it’s never coy
Freshens my mind and flows in vein.
The drops are gone and dusk is full
The rain has left this heart so cool,
My mind is much of garden’s view
Ever haunted by fragrance new.