Masterda’s Wristwatch

Subhransu Maitra

Original: “Masterdar Hathghari” by Shamsur Rahaman

Did you ever wear a wristwatch, Masterda?
This question haunted me often,
I know a great deal about you.
Your build, the precious gem-like lustre
in your eyes, your lifestyle–

I’ve found numerous such minute illuminating details
while navigating the fine print of books.
But Masterda, whether or not you used to wear a
wristwatch, I haven’t been able to find out yet.
However, it may be (safely) assumed that
every now and then you’d take a glance at a watch or clock.
He who governs time has to submit himself at times
to the rule of time,too.
Were you indifferent to the noise of time
when you pulled the trigger of your pistol
or threw yourself body and soul into
raiding the armoury of the British army
or kept pacing up and down inside
the stuffy cell of Chattagram jail?

Masterda, judging by the words, phrases
you would occasionally speak,
You could hear through your eyes and
Saw, too, through your ears.
Kshudiram, Prafulla Chaki, dauntless Asfakulla–
-the gems adorning a supreme wreath
like an enchanting flaming sphere–
they dazzled your consciousness into music when
you would sit still, contemplating a blueprint of
resistance or spurring your fellow voyagers
to vigorously stride ahead.
Masterda, when the hangman’s noose was
dangling over your head, did your erect backbone
shiver like the branch of a tree in winter,
Did your heart skip a beat for a wee moment?
Masterda, your death instantly transformed itself
into the death and life of a vast race.

Masterda, we do not know
If you ever wore a wristwatch; there is
no pressing need to know either. Immortality
has tied around your wrist a rakhi
of radiant halo.
Your hand is (for ever) stretched towards
that immense land nicknamed posterity
offering the gladness of a sunrise.
And a wonderful supernatural wristwatch,
which you never wore, yet which bears your monogram,
is chiming incessantly away
in our hearts amidst the boundless vast
dappling sun-fringed eternity.