Manoj Bogati
America panics. He gets frightened of the fire That breaks out in bamboo jungle. He gets scared of festive fireworks That tears apart the sky America panics of a bowl full of darkness. America breathes his last When the lunchbox of a labourer is opened And what comes out is a burned loaf. Why is it that the loaf is black? Why is it that the loaf is round?- Keeps on asking the crazy America. He checks the bags of kids before they leave for school He turns every single page and gazes the tilted alphabet That the children are learning. The language of the youth is chased who have just come out of café After sending an e-mail to his wife. America enquires-“ What did he write, after all?” America cannot sleep if the dog bays somewhere loudly America cannot sleep in silence even. America panics. For he panics Surveillance is kept on the ideas. He chases the song He peels off the language of poetry And brings out the meaning And keeps on worrying for hours. The peace of a house is lost The air that blows in darkness turns out to be cynical When America panics He touches the inner wear of his own daughter America’ s brain burns If fire cries out in hearth. His own clothes ire if the sun walks slowly in courtyard. When child weeps aloud somewhere He checks her pockets to know whether pistol is in its own place. Why is it that the canvas of a painter is abundant of red colour? Why a poet does raise her fist while reciting her poem? Why the song of the singer is that harsh? What is that on the clip of the wife that looks like camera? Why the name of company is not imprinted on the lighter carried by fiancé of the daughter? America panics. The shadow of the earth is erased When America panics. Coward America Gets scared of ideas Of death Or of living? Panics America. �
December-2025
Gulnar( Punjabi poet)
Old Mother! Why are you teary eyed today?…. Why are you sad? You, who have given birth to sons?… Oh! Mother, your fate! Your childhood spent in bondage to your father Your adolescence under the control of your brother Your youth in bondage to your husband And your old age in your son’ s servitude But doesn’ t Heaven lie beneath your feet?! Then, why in the cruel cold of winter Are your feet bare? But you are the queen of the home! Then why is this pile of dust your abode? You are the one who gave life to seven sons The milk of your breasts gave them strength Then why is your body thirsty? Why has your Being become the symbol of hunger?
Old Mother, why do you look at me this way? I have broken the idols And, from the traditions of base servitude Freed myself I have broken free of the false belief That Heaven lies beneath my feet I have put strong leather shoes on my feet I have thrown away the broom And instead hold the pen and the book firmly in my hands, From my head I have yanked off the veil of bondage Granted by my father, brother, husband, son And I have covered myself with the mantle of my own selfhood I have thrown off the blindfold of shame from my eyes And put on glass spectacles So that I can see the world through my own eyes.
Translated by Raza Mir and Ali Husain Mir( This poem is an address to an old woman who has been repressed by patriarchal structures of power and control throughout her life and is a defiant call to all women to reject the roles imposed on them by societal and religious norms)
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Translated by- Raja Puniani [ Note:“ Kaafarey America”- this poem was originally written in Nepali by acclaimed poet Manoj Bogati. He has published five books of poetry till date. He was awarded with Sahitya Academy Youth writer Award in the year 2012 for his famous book of a long poetry“ Ghauka Rangaharu”( the Shades of Wound)].( Courtesy: Darjeeling Times. com-Darjeeling News 7 th july 2014)
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