People Die in the Infamous World

We are slowly losing lives in the infamous world. Self-surrender becomes everyone’s instant ultimate wish. The selfish world revolves around it. Always in the same orbit at the same speed. We are the elite poets of a strange world – Good morning and good night. These are formalities here. How am I, What is my last wish, Who am I? Why do people move around, changing orbits? Do you know what the use of all is? An easy answer is readily bound. Familiar strangers often ask me – What am I doing now? Why have we become aimless? Why is the intense love lost in sight? I know what its use is! It's in this world, Many Falgun have swept my heart, Like the fallen leaves of the tree, Many paths are covered in dust, Discrediting the air. Many more times, in each winter wave The body trembled. The summer gave it much fatigue, Like the rain of deception in the heart – The report is lengthy. What’s the use of knowing it? I never celebrated the Basant festival in the past, The petals of orchid flowers, I haven’t touched. No music in the flute was played, Still carrying the infamous world – I am His guest – You are too! But we are beginning to forget each other. No mirth is in our smiles now. We need to remember the songs of humanity. While walking along the same route, We left each other in between. Why have we left? Whom for what? You and I never opened our mouths. What is the use of knowing? In a few days, we will meet again, Maybe somewhere. You may ask – How am I? How are my love and courage? Where are my sincerity and simplicity? Let’s say I’m not well! Let’s say I will never forget you! Let’s say we have accepted that! I could not be your dream, this public opinion. I hope we will meet again, After this life, enjoy a new one. What is the use of thinking the same? I am sure – We are never born again, Never return to each other – Everything else is just 'insensible'. Even if you come back to me in kinship, The passing spring doesn't return. People never come back if they die. What’s the use of thinking about this? Sometimes when you meet, You will ask me again, how am I, Why do I always walk like a dead man, Why do I feel alone – Every moment, every day? I carry the memories like A dead body on my shoulders. Why get lost in business like selfish people? Why do I become impatient when I read poetry? Do you know what’s the use of it all is? It's sad, thinking that I was a man one day, I knew that the river Inside me died. If we meet again, Sometimes, somewhere, Don't ask me how I am – I'd be fine. Like some noble poet In an infamous world, I'd be all right, Maybe the student who could not write, The answer in the examination hall… I handed over only the blank sheets. I don't know, What's the use of saying these to anyone? Do you know what the use of it all is?

This is a unique poem by the poet Rajumoni Saikia.It is a thoughtful expression of his deep feelings of heart.I hope the poem will be very enjoyable for the poetry lovers.

I am very happy to see my poem . The cover pic is nicely designed. Thank you all.

It’s indeed a lovely poet. Poetry as such enlivens each readers who happen to read the elite poems written by great scholarly poem like Rajumoni Saikia Sir.

– Damodar Boruah, Author BORN TO DO BIG, India

Great job my dear brother of God’s inspirational grace. This is very excellent. I love the narrative and proliferation. Keep doing the great job you’re doing. Please have a wonderful day and God’s richest grace and blessings always!