Art and Culture

Gajni Refraction

– Jabun Naher

23.3.23

I

A tiny little wooden bridge

Merely three feet wide

But too long to inspire

Awe of a hawk`s dive,

Striped with iron rope

Both alongside to support

Walking visitors waving hands,

Crisscrossed to a deep

Bushy streaming flow,

Always reflecting green

Of the underneath mosses,

Surrounded by a silhouette

That will roughly depict

Remnants of Garo hills,

Covered with cactus, wild berries,

And the Gardener`s long trees.

For I have sworn to visit

Its beauty and fame only

With my spring`s shower,

Though postponed earlier

In a hot summer day

For some unavoidable reasons.

 II

Twice I was near to probe,

Under some official obligations,

In to its virgin periphery!

But how thankful I am!

Oh!  My dearest Provident!

You have saved me twice,

To keep my eyes virgin,

And a shower pure in my spring!

But, probably I was tensed

To avoid sudden chances,

For, I had sworn to my spring

Never to roam but with him!

Yet, deep within me probably

It whispered very gently-

How could you so long

Avoid Gajni`s lurking beauty ?

And you, my subconscious me,

Curtailed the long awaiting gap

When he pronounced the date,

And a plan earlier chased,

My mind saw a probability,

Oh! We are going to meet!

A knot forever united

 Our blooming flowers on to its stem!

A cherished reunion,

A light to a virgin candle,

Kindled the burning

Of hope and of steam

In the core of my heart,

All through summer`s drought.

Oh! For a physical appearance!

Of an uncertain spring day,

And a drop of shower-

Pure, profuse and sweet!

I have concealed the wall

Invisible to the stranger`s mind

Though green with vines

Of ever growing expectations

Unworthy but sound!

 III

May be the reasons well described

So far and so long as I have tried

Neither expected nor anticipated

A vision you might call

Or a visit in my dream

The process yet unknown

My soul fetched me a scene

As real as it surely should be.

The metal threaded wooden bridge

Missing of its first stepping planks-

How many? Oh! That was an illusion

As it was waving and blurred my vision.

A thirty and a few days back,

From the instant it had really appeared

Three times bigger and three times long

The exaggerated width made it strong

The same planked wooden bridge

With some visitors stuck on it.

 Some in the middle and some

On the other horizontal sphere

As if there was a deadlock there,

And could not come back either.

For the same very man made bridge

Missing of its three wooden planks,

As I had seen it in my dream

Three times enlarged,

Three times thin,

As if it were a big cobweb,

Hanging down and slightly waving

As fast as my heart was beating!

The bridge with its missing planks

Over the mossy deep channel

Flowing by an artificial island

Meant to create such an impression

As if it were a fanciful wonderland

Alluring people like gilded gold

Burring nature`s worth of years old,

Attracting tourists from their home,

That is solely mercenary in its form.

Disillusioned by my conscious eyes

Wondered how could it linked and tied

My thirsting soul and my spring with me

Gajni and its silhouette of Jhinaigati,

Garo relics of hilly Wilderness –

A home for its ethnic neighbors

Wild beasts and hovering predators!

If my Soul had refracted the vision

I should not miss that noble mission!

But what did it try to tell?

Perhaps I know or I might fail.

IV

Seven days later it fetched me again

Hunting for truth with a measuring tool-

Three times refracted in my vision

Gajni lied bare with its treasures full.

It was a holiday and the rides were dead

Tourists were aware of no mans tread.

But as I preserved a special provision

Gatemen did not feel any hesitation

We were picking the taste of each corner

As it was tough to delay the runner

The far fetching sight of an Indian border

Stood high with bright tall trees

Here the same with brawny green

But there they were all white and cream!

I was eager to meet that face

Which may lure or may embrace

The truth that peeped once in my heart

Can it ever retreat without a beat?

Again that tiny wooden bridge

At the day`s end with a dimming glow

As much as the setting sun bestow

For the first time I dared to step

Avoiding the missing planks

Leaning on its hanging ropes

Better it should not make any mistake

Or it would be a fate to dive down the lake!

What could be the haunted reason?

That my aunt had a horrible vision,

Not very far but the same previous night

Though she concealed and until then didn’t fright-

Spring spared us without shower!

Our group was ready to take a round up

Almost on the verge of saying, “Goodbye”-

A shriek, two, and then three voices!

Trembling souls looked back to the end

Thundered with the mishap done,

My elderly granny fell on her face down!

Just at the stepping point of the floating strip

Juxtaposed to that wooden bridge-

A marvel created to float on the lake

All through artificial and a mission fake!

V

Two times effort failed in a void

My mind was restless and others annoyed

Why had not I been much more careful?

Or, could save my granny`s mishap?

The lurking wilderness tempted all

Extracting freedom from the body`s wall

Forgetful of ages big or small

Entrapped each and every soul

By its all evasive powers of spell!

I could not wipe out my granny`s suffering

That day and even five more

Pricked my mind with her cutting sores

Medication could not heal it though

The silent voice and a coding cipher

Puzzled numbers and a twisted fold!

Yes! May be I should know

How an age of ninety grows!

Who has ever faced the mirror?

Counting wrinkles on the skin,

Or white heirs coiled within?

Each has many stories to tell-

Gajni`s suffering now thread bare

Three times ninety of the years!

Who has ever looked at it?

Wild beauties and its beasts

Are but bleeding every day

Exiled madness and a frozen hay!

Now I could better connect

The untold story that better reflect.

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