Barin Ghosal
Barin Ghosal (1944-2017), co-editor and a pivotal member of the Kaurab group, was one of the most innovative anti-mainstream writers of his generation. From his very early years, Barin focussed on alternative literary pursuits, rigorously experimenting with the structure of the modern Bangla novel, as well as contemporary poetic language. In the early 1990s, Barin wrote a series of essays in Kaurab and other magazines, introducing "Expansive or Supra Consciousness" (or EC/SC) - a new literary theory that provided a novel semantic-semiotic analysis of poetic language and thought. He spent great energy identifying, analyzing, theorizing concurrent trends in contemporary Bangla poetry. Barin Ghosal has authored more than a dozen books and has been felicitated by several Bengali literary organizations. It was a common sight to see him flocked by gangs of younger poets at poetry festivals and book stops. His poetry is difficult, intellectual and much respected by younger experimental writers. His book-length poem "Satkar" (Cremation) is a rare feat in Bengali poetry. Barin has also authored a collection of short stories and a few novels. His maiden novel "MaTaam" (Tiltmeter, 1989) which is based on a bizarre, magical tale of a matriarchal community, won him critical acclaim. Upon his demise in 2017, hundreds of Bengali writers, poets and artists paid resounding homages in social network to reveal the silent popularity and following that built up over the years.
POEMS
Dawn
Half a globe is caressed by children
And the rest sits gem-studded on the hat of the rich
A poultry befitting into this little earth
Where morning starts with a half-boiled egg
It has dawned everywhere
On wheat-fields the dustbins in a village of Assam
Beauty is the thing we travel after
Beauty is created in meritorious time
Many took their belongings on the tour
Multiplying in numbers they wished to grow in joy
All those dreadful fears and the flowers in the jungle
You see look there come and see
Over the top of our poultry fond of pomatum
A cock is cheering up dawn
After It Rained
Done with fevers etc. the rain slipped into the garden
From there it outgressed up to the rail-yard beyond town
This noise occasionally clinkered on beggar’s pan
‘bout twice mumbling in fucks and farts
Lava its outcry been luckily used to foreign lands
Boarding a train an anarchist’s forgotten shoe behind on board
And a man with robbed off face
In far lands it rains on marbles coats and accursed fields
An irate man cried in anguish even there
Blunt with dishonor barbed with commas of 1990
Rail-line after line disappearing
An obscure train running through hazy rain
Written P.S. and thereafter
Silent are the tales of moist pages
The Tuner
Black pianos are out of fashion now
Decaying from floods
as in gossips on chopped fingers
An ancient log bridge
I standing
A spud in hand
A chopper sometime or with pain-killer drugs
In dream I see undone black hair flowing down
Adrift from a bowline of a decayed syllabus
Banks splashing up hunger
Musically dumb and dead in eloquence
They go down and down to the charitable
On reeds many had bedsteads by the piano
So many reeds and so many destitute like those reeds
The night over the log bridge
Empty Bird on Empty Sky
From essence of sowing sprout the pulse and pulse
Such is a pal ricing up
humid
sweat
when eating is so disturbing
Trouble with Indian tiller who lost his flags
How go to the fruit seller is clearly shattered
the broken angel-pieces and the secretary of nature
sat on Shantimoy’s door
calling bell calling your crawl
free bacteria along intestines rove and suckle
The laughing children parroting a damn
A circular geomet to the fruit seller
Since it didn’t water during shallow tilling
As an empty bird stuffed with shadow
When up is upwarding into shallows
The riverbed for whom is rewarding
As sweat vaporizing when flagged
There is no work is riot tolerated in hunger
Empty bird…..oh my…..I remember to
underline the eating days
All poems translated by the poet
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