Tag Archives: mother

Humankid : A Poem by Dr.Syed Md. Zainul Abedin

A humankid was playing in a garden

Her partner was a wonderful peahen

They bounced and chased each other

They acted the role of a lovely mother

 

The humankid stumbled on a hidden stone

She screamed for pain in the pelvic bone

The peahen was frightened by the accident

She called hummingbird for her treatment

 

The hummingbird came with first aid box

She hummed mantra with cunning fox

They massaged humankid with great care

Peahen flapped her wings for fresh air

 

Hearing tumult peacock rushed with peachicks

He gave good advice and showed great tricks

Humankid felt a little comfort by their nursing

Doctor hummingbird then started to sing

 

The parents of humankid heard the song

They thought something might be wrong

They came with neighbors for her aid

Humankid assured there was no raid

 

All became happy and started to dance

Humankid felt sleepy and fell into trance

 

 

Artist: A Poem by Dr.Syed Md. Zainul Abedin

Art lives in the hearts of human
Starting at birth it ends as the setting sun
The first cry of a child is a great art
It stirs the mother and cools her heart
People enjoy smile and sounds of growing child
They rejoice any action as artistic kind

Once I met a  boy seven years old
He was like a flower with flair of gold
I was a guest in their lovely home
He was shy to enter my room
I called him to make him easy
Soon he became my friend and busy

He was curious about me and my passion
He surprised me with question after question
I wondered how to manage a genius like him
He dwelt on wonderful artistic theme
He brought his scrapbook to show his treasure
His joy for sharing was my pleasure

My sojourn was coming to an end
This news saddened my little friend
He looked pale and approached slowly
His eyes were in tears mixed with glee
He extended his hands to offer a gift
I was surprised to see the sudden shift

He gave me an art of a  lovely place
It charmed my heart with its divine grace
He painted a village with a flowing river
People enjoyed the blessing of the Great Giver
I stood speechless in front of the artist boy
Then silently left his home with immense joy

The Farmhouse – A Poem of Syed Zainul Abedin

The farmhouse is lively in the serene December,
The music of the victory is humming everywhere.
The farmer feels no fatigue in arranging the festival,
Disappeared all troubles and blood freezing fear.

It was a very hard time just the other day,
The demons plundered the paddy of the farm.
Hundreds of the farmers’ sons lost their lives,
Housewives embraced death of honour to resist harm.

The farmhouse turned elated with joy once again,
Million names,blood and sweat are now events of the past.
Hills of paddy swelled up in the farmyard,
Jubilant butterflies and swans move around fast.

The farmer’s innocent son sits beside the grave of his mother,

Weeps fearlessly placing fresh flowers in her honour.

Intelligent Little Train Passenger – By Syed Zainul Abedin

The little girl came with her parents in the large compartment of the train which stopped at the Jessore station.She was wearing a red sweater.She looked very happy in the biting chilly weather.Perhaps the train journey was a great pleasure for her.

The little girl sat for a while in the chair.But soon she started to move from place to place as the train started to move towards Dhaka.At first she came to her father who sat close to the window.Then she looked to the outside and showed the crops,people and domestic animals to her father.She became very excited when she saw the fields of mustard.She expressed her joy like a dancing butterfly.She had special love for the yellow flowers of the mustard field.At one time I joined her passion and showed her the fields of yellow mustard from the moving train.She soon befriended with me.

The little girl then walked to the other side of the compartment.She was soon joined by a number of children around her age.They gathered around us and started to see the moving sceneries from the window of the train.She asked her mother to give her toys and she organized the other children to play in joy.

At one point,a book seller came in front of the playing children.The agile girl insisted to have a story book.Her father purchased one story book.But she could not read the book.But,this did not stop her to enjoy the trip.She requested me to read the story to the children.I became very pleased to see the intelligence of the little girl.I was spell bound and started to read aloud the story based upon the folk literature.The story was about a daughter-in-law who was kidnapped by a witch and later rescued by her husband through the assistance of learned witch manager.There were many illustrations in the book.The girl and the children enjoyed the story and asked me read other stories from the book.

The girl switched soon to other activity.She asked the other children to go back to their parents and wanted to walk with her father.Her father took her to another compartment .They came back after half an hour.She took some pickles and orange in her packet.She sat again on her chair by my side.Now she was more happy to get her favorite food.She asked me take some fruit.I became very happy to see her courtesy.

After about twelve hours the train reached Dhaka.I was traveling alone.The intelligent little girl was a great companion and fellow passenger.I still remember her cute face and lovely activities.She left the compartment with her parents.I bid her farewell and wished to see her again.

Boi Mela,Praner Mela (Book Fair,Heart's Fair): Always New and Lively

The Book Fair, popularly known as ‘BOI MELA’ organized every year during the month of February at the Bangla Academy premises is not merely a collection of books.It is a passion of Bangladeshi people.It reflects the history,tradition and pride that grew over thousand of years of Bangladeshi culture.
I visited the Boi Mela again last evening.It was yet another new experience.All the visitors were new.I was amazed to see the completely new set of visitors walking happily.They were smiling,sharing and gossiping with divine pleasure.They were buying books with great enthusiasm.I felt very amazed to see that peoples thronged in front of a number of book stalls.The crowds also looked exceptional and new.They created no chaos.They were very disciplined.
The stalls also looked new with new sets of books and new sets of sales personnel.
Never again I saw the same little child staring at the white swans swimming in the
round pond of Bangla Academy.A new mother was playing with her little kid .
A new set of writers took the seats of Lekhok Kunjo(Writers’ Hamlet) and exchanged pleasantry.
I enjoyed silently all the new things in the Book Fair.It is always a meeting place of passonate hearts.It is always a lively place.