Teeming crowds of men at Babubazar Ghat
Scattered and indistinct like the stars at night
Boats lined up like stacks of betel leaves
at the quay
Quite into this aggressive business
Of plying across the river
Here at Gopinath Dutt Kabiraj Street
Ishwar Das Lane or Distillery Road
And even in the blind alley at the other end
There is the relentless huff-puff everywhere
seven days a week
The haze of smoke from the stoves, the grinding of grains
For some the mundane, a habit winnowed
and refined with passing clouds

Some can, and some honestly can't.

When a glaring, siesta-less noon stalks ceaselessly indoors
And in the yard leaves fall off the bough
He leaves the clatter of the smithy's tools and machines
The shops and hooch-huts in Dholai Khal
And treads a narrow path that goes far away

Some really can, some others simply can't.

Naeem Hassan is editor of the literary magazine Nirantar. Mijarul Quayes is an occasional writer/translator.