Love the wrong people
____By Aranna Hasan Delwar
We live in the same city, we go out for different work every day.
You will go to the office, after the office you will chat with your friends and burn your soul with cigarette fire
Or sink into the arms of a woman...
Sometimes he will return home at the end of the night
Will go to office late in the morning.
Lunch or dinner with beautiful office colleagues
Sitting in a coffee shop will create a storm of intense conversation.
You will pass my house,
Your new love will be by your side
A hooded rickshaw might look through the gaps
to my house--
The house where you used to travel regularly.
How many afternoons have you spent holding my hand on the roof of the house
How many evenings have you spent looking into my eyes?
I will burn with pain, my stupid mind will become coal---
Tears will soak my bed pillow
Sleep will call strike
All of me will be consumed by the burning loneliness of the locked room.
After many years you take your wife with you
Go around the city
TSC, Fine Arts, Ramana or
At a coffee shop in Gulshan Banani through Hatirjheel
Two will sit
I am still a single man
I will find a rack of memories in the heart of this city
Where neatly arranged mine is yours
sheet of memory
I live in the same city but you don't meet me
May never meet again
How do you kiss your wife's lips?
How to hug him?
How do you love?
No I have no interest in them
I will forget all your touch one day
I will forget all your arranged words
I will forget many more things---
I just can't forget your face.
In the morning of Baisakh my hand will not be in anyone's hands,
In the spring, no one will come and put any flowers in the house
No hand will pull the hem of the sari
No man will catch his eyes from behind
No lips will touch the lips and kiss them
I still can't believe that time will come.
Believe me I still feel asleep
As soon as I open my eyes, I will find you by my side.
Mind how stupid... when you left my hand
You hold the other hand
You have built a house with blue walls with new Priya
You spend the night smelling the smell of his chest
The touch of wet hair wakes you up
You are a very busy husband now.
When did you become a husband from a lover?
But - I remained that lover
Being a wife is no more,,,,
Now I'm not even a lover, just a wet one
Who will love? Tell me who will adopt you?
I live alone, with your memories
Falling in love with the wrong person, I carry the memory of the wrong person.
©Aranna Hasan Delwar.
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