Wake me up every morning as dawn becomes a new day.
What motivated our youth to defy death in order to free Bangladesh from the yoke of a brutal regime?
Glamorous lightweight raindrops from the October sky keep
A star fell on the ground in the windy night
As if playing a game of chess / Still the world waits for the next dawn
Don’t you see— I can only write dark.
The first pulse, in the midst of a whipping maelstrom,
Eternity collapses at the wheel of change. / Past is lost
August, marked with dying things. Summer’s end, / My freedom spent
What moon might mean to you
Daffodils and forget-me-nots smile under the Autumn Sun.
Oh, I’m waltzing down.
But like him they will remember her complexion and her curls and the countless pieces that she graced.
A poem about the Fall.
Eight mighty titans, unleashing their wrath!
A series of poems also reflect his ecological sensitivity to the machine in the garden and snakes and hyenas imperiling forests and rivers and Dhaka—the city he has lived in for most of his life.
Nineteen performers recited poems in Bangla and English, their topics ranging from nostalgia, personal growth and daydreams to mental health, death, and trauma.
Protiti’s poems are mostly ‘bare’ conversational musings exploring ‘selfhood, separation, exile, love and longing’.
A fine good morning poem