Restless Reflection

Rifat Mahbub

Transcreation of Jibanananda Das’s ‘Bodh’ by Rifat Mahbub

In my world of shades and shadowy light, 

there is no dream. Only restless reflection!

No dream, no peace, no affection, 

this soul only breeds restless reflection!

I can’t evade him – he lays his hand on mine.

 

All obligations turn trifle, all contemplation futile.

Meditations and prayers 

sound harrowingly hollow!

Who can now live a life of simple folks!

Who can get by like simple folks in this world of shades and shadowy light? Who else can talk in an effortless language? 

Who can embrace the life of certainty?  Or can be excited with bodily pleasure? 

Who can be satiated with mundane comfort?

Who can take pride in procreation anymore? 

Who else will be the guardian of the earth like a mud-soaked, water-drenched 

new-born farmer keenly looking at the light, expecting to harvest his fresh produce? 

No dream, no peace, this restless reflection constantly haunts my senses!

As I live – I crosscut my life

I try to evade him: 

I want to smash him like a dead skull, he lives in my senses

Yet he is around my head!

Yet he is around my eyes!

Yet he is all around my heart!

When I go about my life, instantly he imitates me!

 

 I pause –

 He pauses instantly.

 

Amidst all, am I the only one 

turning into a lone soul with a menacing manic? 

Am I the only one with a foggy vision? 

Am I the only one to falter?

Those who were born in this world like children –

those who have spent many lives in creating lives; or those who continue to live in this fertile world to give birth – to create life;

Don’t I have a heart and head like them? — Don’t they have thoughts like me? 

– Then why am I so lonely? 

 Yet I am bewilderedly lonely!

 

Have I not tried to take up a plough like a farmer? 

Did I not pull the bucket from water?

Have I not harvested new crops regularly? 

Have I not been a man of rivers – like a fisherman bathing in fishy ponds wearing clogged algae?

–All these experiences 

–I’ve tasted — once I was free like fresh, crispy air,  

My soul was at peace with starry nights 

Once;

Once I tasted life’s nectar – unbound — unrestricted;

I have left them all–

I have sought solace in women,

I loved them, 

I vilified them,

I hated them;

She reciprocated my love, 

She became mine, 

She ignored me, 

She deserted me in hatred – when I invoked her love ad nauseum. 

Yet my pursuit was eternal – this love; 

I ignored her discourse of avoidance 

I trifled her vapour of hatred, 

I even forgot my sun sign 

that blocked off my love over and over.  

This love notwithstanding– the dusty and muddy love –

 

In my stream of thought, there is no dream – no love –

there only is this restless reflection.

I’ve left all my gods and deities,

I’ve returned to my soul,

I ask my soul:

Why does he whisper like a whirling waterfall?

Does he not get tired? Can he not be at peace? 

Won’t he ever sleep? Won’t he be cuddled with a sound slumber? 

Won’t he ever be pampered –

gazing at a male face? 

contemplating a female face? 

looking at a child’s face? 

 

This restless reflection – its profound destiny?

Can it be boundless — profound? 

Does he not want to look away from the weary path of the world and star gaze?  Has he vowed

to gaze at a male face? 

to contemplate a female face? 

to look at a child’s face? 

Bruised-swollen eyes, degenerating deafness, 

This hunchback, that lumpy goitre

Rotten cucumber, mouldy pumpkin, 

All that seeds out from a human heart

– All those.