মিথ্যে রঙীন শিং।
শুধতে হবে ঋণ।
গুঁতিয়ে দিলে সিধে,
মিটবে ছেলের ক্ষিদে।
আবার দিনের আলো
বালু নোনতা করে গেল।
তোদের হাসি চাই,
আমি হাসছি আজও তাই।
False goggles, red horns.
My debts for the new-borns.
If you buy my toy,
There’s dinner for my boy.
The Sun, its last rays
Kiss the beach for days.
I want you all to smile,
So mine will last a-while.
Transliteration of Bengali part (dictionary):
śiŋ
mitʰẏē roŋīn śiŋ.
śudʰtē hôbē r̥iṇ.
gⁿutiẏē dilē sidʰē,
miṭbē cʰēlēr kʰidē.
ābār dinēr ālō
bālu nōntā korē gælo.
tōdēr hāsi cāi,
āmi hāscʰi ājō tāi.
Debdutta Paul 
Wow!
I like it.
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As I read this poem, an image of a toy seller from Girgaum Chowpatty (“beach” never does justice to that place!) sprang up in my mind. It’s been more than 3 years since that day but that image of a man in tattered clothes with an impossible number of toys propped up on a long stick, nonchalantly balanced on a shoulder, smiling as if there’s not a worry in the world, has remained etched in my mind. I had always wondered what makes him smile day in, day out. Now I know. 🙂
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Aaah! Thanks for appreciating my poetry so much… I had written it after someone narrated a similar incident to me over the phone. Her emotion had rubbed off on me, so I couldn’t help but write.
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