Samir Tanti
Translated from original Asomiya
By dibyajyoti Sarma
Let me tell you about the three magicians
All the three are blind
The roads through which they walk are blind
The night they carry with them is also blind
They know the meaning of 3-crore years old light
They known many healings and magic
How darkness turn into light
How one mistake can correct another
Whatever you and your friend may want to know
You will receive each answer
All three are companions to each other
All three of them ban each other
The clouds in which they drench are blind
The wind that takes off the garment is blind too
From the days of wondering to civilization
They have the count of each day
And count the possibilities of pain of life and death
Wherever they go they create tales
Whatever they say are itself myths
All three of them do not have addresses
All three of them are nomads from somewhere
The river water they touch is red
The leaves that float in the water are also red
The kernels of their favourite fruits are red
The beginning and the ending of the day is also red
When silence takes hold of noise
They kiss the stone images
Coiling on their feet serpents pray
The serpents’ prayers bloat into blood
All three of them are their own will
They say hunger is the faith of the hungry
In hunger even god fades out
When they travel they pray for the dead
The living is the dead’s protest
When there is conflict of soil versus soil
Breaks away minarets, temples, airport, assembly
They know the mystery of bidden, forbidden
Also about conspiracy and confusion
All three of them secretly touch us
And check our blood pressure
In their flute cries barren man-woman
In their sorrow stars shed tears
In an animals cry breaks an entire millennia
In hundred years not a single man appears
Words look for word’s support
Words turn into a long procession
When they walk stones break
The heat sharpens the thorns
All the three magicians stand in third party
In third party there is no chance to tell lies
When man falls below humanity
Then only the skull can be seen
No skull carries mind, intelligence
Intelligence-less life is modern life
They know the end of a dictatorial regime
Also know the results of punishment and pride
When they talk about betrayal
They actually talk about our own uncertainties
All three of them are three ages
All three of them are name of void
Neither in nor out
Neither above nor below thirst
Lost dreams look for dreams
The knuckles of hand sparkle in the pupil of the eye
They know as many scripts are studied
As many events passed in as many ages
All those books are blind too
Their creators and narrators are all blind
With them there tickles a clock
Till the ending of light water, darkness
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