Hear Now
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By: Mahbubul Karim (Sohel)
July 11, 2001.
Hear now,
The whispering sound
Of raucous wizardry of Harry Potter,
The magic has come alive here,
Endless cards are sprouting out of hands of tricks,
Few slices of pretty woman rotate on the stage,
Waves her sliced hands,
And the magician tumbles with delight.
Hear now,
The roar of thunderous clap at the end of Wimbledon,
Ivanisevich has done it,
He defied all odd and gravity,
Croats are dancing in the midst of red wines
And steaming spaghetti,
The deserted center court looks desolated
But teeming with nostalgic memories,
The murmur of crowds,
Aced yellow balls bouncing from the court
Through the hymn of Catholic and Protestant shake of hands in fading dream,
The Priest and Imam
Are stretching their voice
At the altar
To flock their shepherd away
From the victorious daemons,
All the angels and holy trinity,
All the prophets of Islam and Judaism
Along with hundreds of gods
Of Hindu and Buddhist and pagans
Have gone for undisclosed vacation.
No disturbance is allowed.
Hear now,
The agony
Of departed souls of Dipendra and Birendra,
The dead kings of Nepal,
The insurgence of Nepali Maoists,
Marching through the curve of Everest
With pride and untold determination,
Thumping deep abomination toward injustice
With more injustice,
40 dead police give the empty stares to the horizon.
In Philippine
The gang of Abu Sayaf
Beheads bunch of hostatges,
Bangla terror moves on to a new phase,
Everywhere the shrouds are hanging
From Bamboo pole,
Knives and guns
Are sharpened and burnished
For the championship game,
Live telecast will be shown.
And Parvez Musharraf will be flown
to Delhi for the talks of Kashmir
Without any trace of Kashmiri people nearby.
Hear now,
The diminished mumbles
Of a girl and a boy,
Walking along the crystalline road of richness,
With a beggar bowl in each hand
Thrusting toward the deaf and blind
Men and Women of surroundings,
Their squeezed stomach growl and howl,
Reveals the scientific self cannibalism.
And like others,
I walk with total ignorance
And lack of concern,
Boasting my achievements,
My new hear-style
And quartz watch glistening
On my pompous wrist,
I look at the beggar bowls,
Snapped my finger like
That magician of tricks
Thomas Vanadium
In the book of Dean R. Koonthz,
And two silver coins make their hefty journey.
The thankfulness glares at me,
Try to test the limit of my sanity,
I feel good,
I've become evangelical philanthropist.
Hear now,
The silent laughter of a girl and a boy.
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