Freedom Bird

Muazzin was giving Azan

How would he know that would be his last word!

They didn’t spare him as well.

They didn’t spare that masjid as well.

They didn’t let him complete the Azan as well.

I’m not saying a story.

I’m reciting a poem

Where they were in opposite position of me, of he, of us.

They told me not to recite poem of Tagore

They told me not to recite poem of Dutt

They told me not to recite poem of Das

They are Hindu, they told me not to recite them.

I repeat they forbade me to recite them as they are Hindu.

They forbade me to practice my language.

Yes they tied my tongue, my ears, my eyes

They tied me not to utter a word, not to hear a word, not to see an alphabet.

They tied me with white cloth, as it is symbol of peace.

I don’t know what kind of peace was that!!

I was fighting with me

I was fighting to untied my word.

They wanted me to stop.

To stop me they attacked my neighbors

They attacked my Rickshaw wala

They attacked my Darwan

Even they attacked that Muazzin

They attacked everyone in dark of night

That darkness made them invisible.

They thought I wouldn’t hear those scream

They were wrong

Their scream came to me as an unknown poem of Tagore

To stop me they stab my Teachers

They stab my Doctors

They stab my journalists

They stab my writers

They thought nobody would recognize them

They stabbed them from back

Every drop of those bloods were flying towards me

My white piece of cloth turns red by them.

My symbol of peace turns symbol of anger.

I woke up remembering that incomplete Azan of Muazzin.

I woke up smelling that undercooked Shutki from my neighbors

I woke up hearing the unsounded whistle of my Darwan vai and Rickshaw wala vai.

I followed them every morning

They thought I won’t wake up ever

But they forgot my night

I went to sleep hearing our Altaf Mahmud

I went to sleep reading our Munier Chowdhury

I went to sleep reciting our Selina Parvin

I followed them every night

I followed all of them from day to night from March to December

It was a midnight of December finally they came to me

They untied me with reciting Tagore’s that unknown poem

Finally my ears were blessed to hear those unknown words, “Amar Shonar Bangla”

Finally my tongue felt proud to say, “Ami Tomay Valobashi”

Finally my eyes were blissed to see that awaited freedom bird

It flew to me with it’s Red and Green feathers in a bright 16th December.