Thursday, September 06, 2001

A Prosaical Poesy: Polls 2001 - 'Political Atheism' and a question of faith

I have been a depressive most of my life.
Man does not know what triggers a depression. It is believed, that the best way to fight out the 'blues' is KNOWLEDGE - and to get as busy as possible with whatever chores it is that you want to indulge in and whatever it is that makes you eminently and elusively happy, or is it happily sad?


Writing is one of my chores, and by the end of this I might find a cure.

By knowledge what is meant, is an ability to sit back and reason with oneself as to what is causing the dark swing in moods and a 'frank assessment' of events past and present.

Together comes an honest appraisal of future course of actions: which often calls for deeper introspection, and a rigid rejection
of whatever it is bothering you,
supposedly is the almighty cure!

It is essentially a question of faith. A Faith in yourself, in God and the events that surround you.

The hope that wrongs will be righted and evil will be won over by reason and civility. Those millstones will be milestones, and being carefully careless will not caress your career to newer crevasses and careen you back to chaos, all the way down, down and OUT?


Over the last two weeks my depression has been pronounced, and a failure to find the so-called 'shrink-less cure' had me exasperated!

More, a kind of paranoia has overwhelmed me, specially when I make a more than a 'slightly' harder attempt to reason with recent developments in Bangladesh.

Paranoia
again is an apathetic disability to trust anyone or a permitted ability to distrust - take it or leave it.

If 'willing suspension of disbelief constitutes poetic faith', the 'improper poet' lurking deep in the mysterious ME, hopelessly believing and licensing the notion, that prose is a form of poesy - DIES- a slow yet sure death.

Being 'consciously conscious' in a conscienceless country, is a crime, and a PRICE
I know, I will always have to pay, if I have not already overpaid?

I have no records of credits anyway and forget pensions.


The bank account of my defeated desolation sings dirges, about my 'broke' pocket and heart, yet has thankfully not defaulted or committed adultery to 'reschedule' IOU's of thievery, or robbery from my nation all to 'stand' or vote in a meaningless general election.

One vote lost is no loss for Bangladesh
- or am I wrong?

Banks thankfully are the unsafe place in Bangladesh to store your riches; unsafe is your home. So, go blow it stingy saver - enjoy it and forget it, for tomorrow you will again be a poor poet in the pocket, yet safe in the heart, safer than the safest stainless steel safe. Richer - that you have not reneged with your conscience - if you have one?

Some idiot said 'that the days of the Poet began on the day, the days of the Prophets ended'. If he was right, I shudder to think - as to who will replace the Poets when their days ends?

God half trivially interceded and I thought gave me an answer last night - 'who else but your POLITICIANS'.

I hope I am wrong?.. dead. Dead - WRONG, hopefully it wasn't God but the Yang from the Ying yapping away. Satan, no way?


Let this not sound profane friends, 'My God', is not the stern, merciless 'THING' like yours!

He has a sense of humor, but there is this fine line between mischief and wickedness that I never could quite understand, and wonder why we fail to make a serious note about 'mercy and benevolence'?
Are those only justifiable attributes of god and not MAN?

If that be, then I am only left only to ponder and wonder who to reject - god or MAN?

If 'Mighty god is a living MAN' - who is it that we look UP or DOWN at? Any answers out there? I have none.


Anyway, the pet peeve of my on-going perturbation - here goes...

What is it going to be like for days coming to Bangladesh?

No easy equation. The best of the worst have failed and vice versa, and have failed miserably in written or viva voce. We never have had a mediocre chance for success in the 'Daddy's land' or 'Hubby's land' called Bangla-land - have we?


Because I know for certain, that nothing will be righted, the wronged will be further wronged, and recycled lies will fill the stagnant times with a newer compost that we will be forced to drool over momentarily, as we will find the time for more and more excuses in exonerating our excessive excesses.

Spectre of salivating seductively - perhaps? A premature ejaculation of hopes, so be content and satiated - mother Bangla-land.

The illegitimacy of our desires fornicates with the legitimacy of our betrayed hopes.


Having said all of that, I have come around believing, THAT god MUST BE BENGALEE - else how do we explain our thirty long YEARS of survival!

'Me Lord's' have in the meantime, discarded their fancy satin bellow-y coats, wigs and collars, and make a mockery out of caretaker sustenance whilst holding court, on claims to power by the departed 'penguins' and the incumbent wannabe's in 'safari suit's'.

A routine roulette game forever but for once they are less than 'holier than thou', and wear well pressed business suits and ties, that more often betrays their cavorting and promenades of dinners and press announcements to their failed pronouncements.

"Charlie (Shabuddin) Chaplin" meanwhile has grown an inch taller in 'popularity and respectability'! His business suits are far better pressed than say 1990!


On a 'note of unity' :
in every case where 'Me Lord's' have ordered the demolition of shanties and bustees and left only the hopeless and the hapless poor without a roof on their heads as mother's suckle their babies to their naked breast, 'penguins' and 'safari's' have jointly resisted all the police onslaughts - no question asked my friends as to WHO was 'for' or 'against' our so-called liberation? Politics make strange bedfellows and the beds have never been warmer than now.


And down at the old Portuguese distillery of the fine cashew nut wine called Feni, this at the heart of New-Kelly, the Lord gun father Hazari goes scott free, hoodwinking more than a thousand well armed khakis - and some camouflages - or eye washes.

The 'Empress Penguin' meanwhile stands for his antecedents, ensures his nomination, as also his 'saintly purity', while a bottle of carnal excitement VIAGRA is discovered together with dirty porn and dirtier carbine magazines.

The 'Empress Penguin' even knows that 'he

never used them'! Ssssh ...have our children heard this? So much for decency 'sheikh'!

Out of all the rumblings, fumbling and mumbling, we go stumbling into a stupor of secrecy about our security.

Yet 'Empress Penguin" has more than a thousand durwans from the posse of SSF and others - we are dumb founded into a realization, that only a few hundred weapons have been traced from more

than two hundred and fifty thousand.

While the likes of Jimmy Carter have bartered their favors for our prosperity and democracy in photo opportunities and 'cease-fires' for the time being,
Mr. Caretaker has tongue in cheek announced that 'all the guns cannot be recovered - but steps are being taken to ensure that they are not used on election eve'.

Who are we kidding Mr. Caretaker?


Admitted that most of them are obsolete, 'Country made and inaccurate', what has been conveniently forgotten is that all those two hundred and fifty thousand weapons 'can also maim and KILL' and is enough intimidation for a fair and neutral election.

Two questions Mr. Caretaker :

Imagining, two hundred and fifty thousand guns in hand. Two hundred and fifty thousand people can kill, and two hundred and fifty thousand HUMANS can die on Election Day and may easily overwhelm your army of less than two hundred thousand?


Does your assurance of 'guns not being used' mean that you will be making phone call's to all Gun Lords in Bangladesh?

If you are that sure, will it be wrong to ask a supplementary question, if you know all the leaders of 'Terrorist' personally, or may we know if you are also the 'caretaker' of all our terrorist leaders in our ravaged democracy? Impertinently,
Are you a terrorist leader 'Me Lord"?


'May Paradise be yours' is what I want to wish you Mr. Caretaker in appreciation of our miseries, for the picture of Hell is only a misnomer in Bangladesh.

Believing you or our POLITICIANS or our President tantamount to a disbelief in GOD.


One vote in Bangladesh will NOT be cast on the 1st October 2001 - and it is my vote that I will burn to reflect the ashes of your irresponsibility, incompetence and injustice.

Let this be the sole vote of dissent.


I'd rather be a 'Political Atheist', yet tragically a Bangladesh citizen.

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