-Farida Majid

We marvel at your sensitivity
and reprove for the word ‘hunt’
as if, in the phrase ‘how to hunt a razakar’
it is not ‘razakar’ that bears the brunt
of your ire. You insist, the word ‘hunt’
incites murder!

Such crafty avoidance! But
why does it hurt being called a razakar?
Was it not you who kissed the boots of Paki hanadar
in the midst (around June, 1971) of a bloody massacre
when Pakistan Military Gazette designated the term
‘razakar’
and issued an order to employ traitors
to maim, rape and torture fellow Bangalees?

Remember those glorious days when you did the hunting?
You did not wince, blink and nary a shot miss.

Thousands of precious human lives were lost–
thanks to your awesome, destructive hunt–
none of them less valuable than your own,
the one you boast of with so much pomp and stunt!

So now you get itchy, you growl and grunt,
and oh! how you get all touchy-feely
at the mere hint of a ‘hunt’ for razakars. Really!

We do not have the pack of hounds
(like those Paki friends of yours) nor bugles
of self-praise to round off a bloody rout.
We just get the wary giggles

Source: The Daily Star

Liberty, you are the flaming poster
in my friend’s hand.
Liberty, you are the thick black
loose hair of my wife
flowing in the wind.

Liberty, you are the colored shirt
on my son.
the play of sunlight on
my daughter’s cheek.

Liberty, you are my garden,
the song of the cuckoo,
the rustling leaves
of an ancient banyan tree,
the note book where I write my verses
just as I choose.”