मैं भारत का नागरिक हूँ
भारत में पला हूँ
भारतीयता मेरी रगों में दौड़ रही है
एक अनोखा गर्व महसूस करता हूँ
देश से प्यार करता हूँ

लेकिन क्या है यह भारतीयता
इसका एहसास
इसकी परिभाषा
इसका प्राण
क्या है इसकी परंपरा, पहचान

क्या भारत सिर्फ़ एक देश का नाम है
सिर्फ़ एक भूखंड का परिचय पत्र
एक संविधान का नाम
अरुणाचल का सुबह
या कोंकण की शाम

सोचता हूँ एकांत में बैठकर
भारतीयता का असली रूप
उसकी प्यारभरी पुकार
उसके कुछ क़ायदे, क़ानून
जो देता है मुझको सुकून

भारतीयता का अर्थ कोई धर्म में छिपा नहीं
भारतीयता के मायने कोई किताब के पन्नों में नहीं
कोई रस्म, रिवाज़, बोलचाल में नहीं
कोई मंदिर, मस्जिद, गिरजा में नहीं
कोई पकवान की ख़ुशबू में नहीं

भारतीयता का स्वरूप है वह वृक्ष
जिसके डालों में बैठे हैं रंग बिरंगे पक्षी
गा रहे हैं विभिन्न सुरों में, खुले दिल से
लेकिन सुनाई दे रहा है बाहर की दुनिया को
सिर्फ़ एक ही गाना, एक ही राग, देश राग

इस राग में मतभेद की आहट ज़रूर है
पर बेसुराता की आँच नहीं
अपने डाल की भलाई के लिए
दूसरे डालों को तोड़ने की स्पृहा नहीं
दूसरों के आँसूओं की चाहत नहीं

जहाँ नीयत हो साफ़ और संकल्प सुदृढ़
जहाँ चेतना हो निष्कलंक और हृदय सहनशील
जहाँ एक दूसरे के बीच रहे सुमधुर आत्मीयता
जहाँ देश की धड़कन जगाए दिल में मानवीयता
यही है मेरा भारत और मेरे शब्दकोश की भारतीयता

सुबीर चक्रवर्ती / २५ मार्च २०१९

The temple stands strong and proud
The deity, tall and imposing
As I try to make a deal with god
Through my generous offering

I witness the deity closely
Looking for boons, inspiration
Instead, what I see is my own life
Float past me in a procession

With my hands folded, eyes closed
My heart begins to throb and shine
And before I can fully comprehend
It assumes charge of my mind

I find I am revisiting myself
My own life in this blood and flesh
In minuscule bits, bubbling up
To the near edge of my consciousness

Reassessing myself repeatedly
The I within and the I without
Trying to understand, disseminate
Moulted clean from self-doubt

The desire to visit a temple
Actually a desire to revisit myself
So that the chaff can separate
Leaving the self free of pelf

And by the time I finally leave
My ego strands shredded to bits
My true offering to the reigning deity
My complete ablution from grit

Subir Chakraborty / 28th July 2018

I exist in snatches
Past
Present
Alternating in bits and pieces

Strings
Sometimes long, at times uncertain
Float by
Without any foundation

Anchorless, flippant, unfocused
Daydreaming
Nightdreaming
Fully awake

But not fully aware
Of where imagination ends
And reality finally begins
Solidifies

Without a clue about the direction
Destination
Yet in that fleeting moment, I breathe
Exist

Subir Chakraborty / 28th April 2019

The hatred shall regress
The agonies shall pass
What you shall be left with
Are memories of the dark

The hunger shall satiate
The happiness shall abate
What you shall be left with
Are memories in a spate

What are these memories
That we so fondly cling
What is the joy of this earth
That we hope these will bring

Why do the lonesome wisps
Float wearily in the sky
Taking us back in time
Sometimes making us cry

Asking questions of our actions
Memories, sweet, bitter and more
Ecstasy, grief, bonded helically
And often shaking our core

Memories keep us company
Till the very last post
In our memory one fine day
The future may raise a toast

Subir Chakraborty / 21st Aug 2018

बचपन में एक सलाह अक्सर सुनाई देता था
ख़ासकर बड़ों से, बुज़ुर्गों से, शिक्षकों से
कि, अच्छाई फैलाओ, अच्छा बनो
अपनी कीर्ति से अपना नाम रोशन करो

बचपन में इसका एक ही अर्थ होता था
न्याय और अन्याय के फ़र्क को समझना
बड़ों और शिक्षकों का इज़्ज़त करना
सही दिशा में अपने ज्ञान का प्रसार करना

जब बचपन से जवानी के तरफ बड़ा
तब देखा कि अच्छाई का अर्थ बदलने लगा
न्याय के सड़क में अन्याय झाँकने लगा
बड़ों की बातों से झूठ की बू आने लगा

बड़ों ने कहा कि अब तुम बड़े हो गए हो
जोश तो ठीक है, पर थोड़ा होश भी दिखाओ
जग की भलाई, देश की भलाई तो ठीक है
अब थोड़ी अपनी भलाई को आगे बड़ाओ

आज मैं बुढ़ापे के चौखट पर खड़ा हूँ
और यह आज तक समझ में नहीं आया
क्या सब की अच्छाई में मेरी अच्छाई नहीं है
क्या अन्याय से समझौता में ही समझदारी है

क्या बचपन की अच्छाइयों में बेवक़ूफ़ियाँ छिपे हैं
क्या न्याय के राह पर सिर्फ काँटें ही बिछे हैं
क्या अच्छाई की अच्छाई में कुछ मिलावट है
क्या दिल का सुनना इतना ही मुश्किल है

सुबीर चक्रवर्ती / ७ अप्रैल २०१९

Impotence does not always occur
Between the legs
Impotence does not always happen
While in bed

When your voice chokes and stutters
While taking up a just cause
When you prefer the veil of a lie
And give your conscience a pause

When your factor of safety
Makes you shy from the fore
When a lone voice crying for justice
Makes you deaf to the core

When the dying on the street
Evoke no sympathy
When your heart is flooded
With waves of apathy

When an act of charity
Seems so totally alien
When you’ve sold your soul
At the altar of affluence

When the plundering of nature
Leaves you unmoved
When all that you do
Is solely for your own good

When all your achievements
Can be captured in one word – money
When you did not affect even one life
Leave alone many

All these cases
Are impotence of a kind
A conceptual construct
Of impotence redefined

Each one of us living
Will leave one day
Without our possessions
Shall depart from this fray

Only we shall leave behind
Our deeds, for others to say
Whether we were potent or impotent
During our decades long stay

Subir Chakraborty / 15th June 2019

In my reinterpretation lies my salvation
Of the life I have lived
And the one unlived
Nesting precariously in my mind

Of my life with me and those with others
Where I may have fallen short
Needs cautious revisiting
From a new perspective, a new dimension

Of my near and dear ones
Who tried sincerely and faltered
Of their imperfect years
Of their failed tears

Of my own choices chosen
And the ones rejected
Due to lack of courage
Due to hidden fears

Reinterpreted they must all be
To bring about closure
To bring about peace
To my heart tormented by unease

And as for my soul
Which desires to exist in harmony
Crying for reinterpretation
Pining for redemption

Subir Chakraborty / 7th Dec 2018

Love and happiness the twins
Rowing the sail boat of eternity
Are they really two
Or are they one

For what is love without compassion
Without the giving or sacrificing
Of a portion of your own life force
To sustain another

And in that space so surrendered
Springs the well of happiness
Filling up your bosom
With the nectar of contentment

Which nourishes your soul
Imparting unimaginable fertility
Sprouting green shoots of empathy
In joyous abandon

Love and happiness intertwined umbilically
Never in isolation, the conjoint twins
Rescuing drowning souls
Sailing the ravages of humanity

Subir Chakraborty / 14th Nov 2018

Wherever an alternate idea blooms
Whenever a real threat looms
My immediate reaction
Is to burrow back into my hole
And take solace, find succour
In the rigid bureaucracies
Of my imagined supremacies

For every threat must be countered
Actively, both without and within
Lest it becomes larger than life
And attain a life of its own
To influence the weak and the gullible
The questioning and the guilty
Of its veracity, its logical fluidity

So, I need to resist and fight
With my head still buried in the hole
To convince others, by words or by the sword
To drown out all voices of dissent
To usher in an air of claustrophobia and stasis
So that ultimately, only one idea can remain supreme
The impassioned serpent, the reigning queen

Subir Chakraborty / 6th March 2019

I come to myself
In the deep recesses of my mind
Where precipitous dichotomies
Are crowding me out of line

Painting illusions of should ‘bees’
As well as should have ‘beens’
In the surrounding chaos and din
Of ambitions, regret, failed dreams

The dilemmas that present
Are real, causing serious lesions
Disturbing my mental balance
Consuming my well of patience

To welcome and accept the new
Through the prism of my past
Or discard the smouldering emotions
Tearing off the age old cast

Each time I loosen a bond
A new one germinates surreptitiously
Wainscoting the edges of my consciousness
Parading the images relentlessly

I come to oneself
In peace, aloneness, serenity
When both past and future
Fail to cause any anxiety

I come to myself
When the gale has all but receded
I come to myself
When the self has all but evaporated

Subir Chakraborty / 30th March 2019