Tag Archives: passion

Malice : A Poem by Dr Syed Md Zainul Abedin

Listen to the story of an innocent boy
He bought birds to share his care
They were his passion and not any toy

Lovely little birds were source of joy
Their songs brought children from far and near
Listen to the story of an innocent boy

The birds din’t like who came to annoy
They enjoyed melodies of songs on prayer
They were his passion and not any toy

One day a jealous youth made a ploy
He dropped poison into the feeder
Listen to the story of an innocent boy

The dirty youth learnt only to destroy
His nasty act brought tears and despair
They were his passion and not any toy

Malice of people snatch away joy
Let’s hate their ugly and  sinful affair
Listen to the story of an innocent boy
They were his passion and not any toy




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

Youth sings with passion
 
Judges smile and pronounce ‘yes’
 
Tears of joy cool hearts
 
 
 
 

(Impressed by the wonderful performance of talented young singers in audition)

 

The Reciter : A Poem by Dr.Syed Md. Zainul Abedin

The lady was a little shy
When I requested her to recite
But her heart wanted to try
The poem that hovered day and night

She started with low voice
Her face started to change
Signs of sorrow and rejoice
Were shown to interchange

Now,she was another person
Her voice rendered artistic narration
She performed a special session
She was transformed to an incarnation

Recitation was her passion
She recited poems for years
Once a poem created impression
She recited it with tears

A poem is the product of poet’s passion
The reciter presents it to the people
Poet and reciter belongs to the same mission
The message of the poem spreads like ripple

I admire the partnership of poets and reciters for creativity
Both of them have great devotion
Together they work for the betterment of humanity
The world should acknowledge their contribution

(Inspired by the extraordinary performance of a female reciter )

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

Life is neither poem nor prose
Life  is neither poppy nor rose

It may be smooth or harsh
Like pleasant breeze or burning brush

Everyone has to face the reality
With passion,commitment and ability

Perfect person may not win the prize
While a handicap may give surprise

Dream,devotion and drive for goal
May make one honored and successful

I greet challenged persons from my heart
You have conquered through your art

Your success is a lesson for us all
You will always shine and never fall

(Tribute to successful persons with disability)

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.