My Absence | The Daily Star
12:00 AM, March 17, 2018 / LAST MODIFIED: 12:00 AM, March 17, 2018

Poetry

My Absence

Translated by Md. Elias Uddin

In the sultry air of March yawns my absence.

Who knew even the year's last Sunday would pass in such alienation?

Still I do not come back: flowers from your bun wither and fall off on your back. 

Taking away the tea-making paraphernalia, you think whether 

you should change the saree and keep lying in the southern room downstairs.

And I have put on the attire of promise-breakers

as if I forgot everything, as if I never promised to anybody,

'I'm coming back. Stay indoors. We two will sit together on the veranda.'

A blurred memory still haunts my mind:

a woman sometimes used to wear a saree as I liked her to;

she used to become a river, laughing, 

because I love rivers;

when I tried to make her understand the enigmas of nature,

and when I said, 'If you were a tree –,'

hearing this, she, all at once, used to say,

'Look!', spreading out all her branches.

Today I have put on the attire of promise-breakers,

and my absence yawns in the sultry air of March.

Md. Elias Uddin is a Lecturer in the Department of  English at Dhaka University.

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