The city I’m looking for

Meherun Noor Rahman ।।

 

Where there is a small conurbation

With an impetuous river flowing through

The water of the river is translucent, like a mirror

The air of that city is lucid, and it is filled with the green trees

Men and women are there walking around with gleeful healthy children

Women are strong, gutsy, and fetterless

They are charming, pleasant and their skin is like verdant wheat

They wear silver anil saree and gules flowers on coiffure

They giggle, lark, and discourse but not combative

Their poised body, dusky hair is scented, wafting all around

The men of that city are also hale and hearty

Their appearances are soft and enchanting

They are witty, amusing, and loving but not licentious

In that city, men and women stride side by side, neither in front nor behind

They listen to each other and heed courteously

No one there is inferior, no one there is superior

No one there is anyone’s god

No one expects offerings from anyone

Everyone in that city is a farmer

They fish in the river, they farm, and they weave

Together men and women grow grains on the land

They harvest with elation, song and dance

They eat, chat, live, love, laugh together

My enduring desire… I want to be a farmer

The quest for the city hence relentless

Alas! The city remains concealed

And, I keep on rotating in pretence, vying, strife and deception