যে পাওয়াটা দাবি ভিত্তিক
যে চাওয়াটা নিরেট অর্বাচীন
যে পাওয়াটার মর্মভেদী আর্তনাদে
জীবন হয়ে আসে ক্ষীণ

যে পাওয়াটা অপ্রত্যাশিত
হঠাৎ আসে হাতের মুঠোয় ধরা
সেই পাওয়াটার ওজন যে কত ভারী
বুঝে উঠতে বয়ে যায় বেলা

যে চাওয়াটা নিতান্তই ভিত্তিহীন
মনের মাঝে দানা বাঁধে রোজ
সেই চাওয়াটার মূল্য বোঝাতে গিয়ে
রাত পেরিয়ে হয়ে গেল ভোর

এই চাওয়া পাওয়ার নিত‍্য খেলা ধুলায়
মশগুল হয়ে থাকি সর্বক্ষণ
কতটা পেলে কতটা ছাড়া যায়
অঙ্ক কষছি দিবা রাত্রি, ক্ষণে ক্ষণ

সুবীর চক্রবর্তী
১৪ এপ্রিল ২০২৬

I wish to travel the world with you,
Explore the myriad nooks and alleys,
Ride the rapids, hike the hills,
See the heavenly bodies do the cosmic dance on a clear, moonless night,
Admire the ebb and flow of tides gracing the shoreline,
Feel the joy of the petals unfolding one at a time,
In the early hours of dawn,
Or just sit together, hand in hand,
In a lonesome cafe overlooking the meandering land.

I wish to travel the world with you,
And beyond,
Into outer space,
And yet never ever arrive.

For in arrival there is the despondency of conclusion,
Of finality,
Of the cessation of mystery and romance.

And in non-arrival lies the sweet nectar of apprehension,
Of the unseen and the unknown,
Tuning our hearts together,
With the melody of our intertwined souls,
Nudging us gently,
To go on forever.

Subir Chakraborty
7th April 2026

তোমার কাছে আমি চিঠি হয়ে যাব।
খুলবে তুমি খাম খানা সযত্নে সোহাগ করে,
কত জানা অজানা কথা লেখা থাকবে
চিঠির পাতায় পাতায়,
ভাববে তুমি অনেক কিছু তোমার মত করে।
লেগে থাকবে তোমার চোখে এক মধুর রামধনুর আবেশ,
যেটা আমার চিঠির মন্থর পরশে,
সৃষ্টি করবে সেই হারিয়ে যাওয়া স্নিগ্ধ চাঁদনী রাত।
আমি না থেকেও থাকবো চিঠির ভাঁজে ভাঁজে
রাঙিয়ে দিয়ে যাব তোমার কল্পনার মুহূর্তগুলো
তোমার কাছে আমি চিঠি হয়েই যাব।

সুবীর চক্রবর্তী
১৬ মার্চ ২০২৬

I am born from the womb of consciousness,
Softly cradled by the tidal waves of continuity.
My voice breaks out in myriad tongues-
Of creation, of placidity, of destruction,
Deeply moored by chords of primordial silence,
Seeking a separate identity in vain.
For consciousness can only give rise to consciousness-
Part of an unending stream,
A never ending cycle,
Of birth, of life, of death,
Continuing mellifluously into eternity.

Subir Chakraborty
9th March 2026

What is that which speaks without noise?
Without even a single flutter?
Tiptoeing ever so softly,
Sensually,
Intertwining heart strings,
Interlaced with sweet melody,
Silence upon silence,
Skin upon skin,
Drenched with the nectar of love.
Imagined whisperings,
Floating in the air,
Which none can hear,
Save the two hands
Interlocked in a heavenly embrace

Subir Chakraborty
24th Feb 2026

Will the nowhere days come again?
In nowhere time?
When I can be the nowhere man,
Without my precious mobile,
Without any prescheduled timetable,
Without any complicated compulsions.
Where the mind is totally free,
To think or not to think,
To imagine or be a lazy drag.
To see the sky with closed eyes,
And contemplate the universe within myself.
To let all worries dissipate into nothingness.
And just feel blessed for the beauty of creation,
And for life and living and love.

Subir Chakraborty
21st February 2026

The hands that we held decades ago are not the same.
The cells have renewed multiple times,
The nails, repeatedly cut and resized,
The skin, grown old and wrinkled.
And yet, the warmth is familiar.
The feelings echoing those long lost times.
For our bodies may have metamorphosed,
But the you and I continue to remain the same you and I.
In the only way that truly matters.
Outliving damage, disease and decay,
Free of bodily constraints,
Light as the spirit,
Undefinable by form and touch,
And yet definable by sheer passion.
The only constant in this sea of constant change.
You and I,
I and you,
Living through aeons into eternity.

Subir Chakraborty
23rd Jan 2026

Where does love go when we stop loving?
When we can no longer bear to look at each other?
To hear each other’s voice?
To stand each other’s touch?
To look through the person you once loved, into empty spaces within the room,
And without.

And then, when tempers have cooled sufficiently,
The introspection begins.
The dissection, the dicing and the slicing
Of where one went wrong.
At which point, at what time,
Who said what?
Who should apologise first, if at all?
Whether to compromise or move on?
Whether……

But where did that love go?
Was it always an illusion?
A delusional venture of the mind without true anchoring or a base?
Or did it dissolve into the monotony of routinised habit?
And still it haunts you day and night,
Cause you want it back in your life.
To constantly give you the comfort
Of being loved and wanted and cherished,
Treasured beyond all compare,
To continually give you a reason to be alive.

Where did that love go?
Will it come back again?
Is there a glimmer of hope?
Even a tiny one?
And so the effort begins,
Once more in right earnest,
With expectation in the heart
And anxiety in the mind.
And then who knows?
Perhaps…….

Subir Chakraborty
1st January 2026

With the passing of years
As the dazzle begins to fade away
As the mind gets slowly reoriented
To observation and assimilation, as opposed to speed reading and regurgitation
To creating a wealthy mind as opposed to mere material surplus
As celebrating unimportance becomes important
As the mind begins to treasure beauty in the smallest of things
A butterfly spreading its wings, a rainbow arcing across the sky, a child’s innocent smile
As you come back one full circle
The way you started off on this earth
With nothing to call your own save the bounty that nature offered you
You realise the difference between life and robotic existence
Between sheer pleasure and sublime bliss
Between the transience of earthly exclusivity and the ecstasy of joyful inclusion

Subir Chakraborty
23rd Nov 2025

Everything works out in the end
Doesn’t it really?
But then, which end is one talking about
End of childhood
Of adulthood
Of life?
Or maybe when a sense of completion or contentment sets in
Or utter dismay or disgust
Or maybe just a point when one starts to make a new beginning
Filled with optimism and hope
Without bothering how the end shall play out
Or perhaps, not at all
Just blending surreptitiously with the next beginning
Leaving the end as a question mark
In the deep recesses of the mind
But in the end it all works out
Cause it simply has to
Cause all chatter must finally give way to silence
Cause there’s nothing beyond nothingness other than a new beginning
Cause there’s really no end
Or perhaps no beginning
Or is there?

Subir Chakraborty
31st Oct 2025