Summer has definitely arrived in Dhaka and the long hot months stretch ahead with mangoes and jackfruit and other delights. For all that a little less heat would not be a bad thing.
.
Summer sun
.
Your warmth grows,
faces raised, we perspire in admiration.
Fearfully, humbly, we whisper,
‘Oh great bringer of life
spread your love a little wider!’
We would gladly, unbegrudgingly,
share some of your enthusiasm
with cold, dark places.
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Tennis philosophy for busy times;
Tennis ball
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After four days traveling to different districts of Bangladesh you can’t help noticing the ingenuity of people in developing ways to move themselves, their products and their purchases. Everywhere you see all kinds of engines, vehicles and boats modified and adapted to serve the ever changing needs of the people of Bangladesh.
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Ingenuity
.
Ingenuity,
your name is transport –
For every load there is a plan,
a welded beast, a richshaw van;
for every route a transfer man
a bullock cart or minivan.
For every freight or river load
a ship, a boat, a bamboo road.
For every load,
on any road –
the ingenuity of man.
.
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This is my fate on many week-end mornings…
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Disturbance
.
Planning to sleep late –
I’m woken by a restless poem,
rummaging in my brain,
slamming doors, shifting through drawers,
searching for her voice.
.
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Living an an expat you have to accept that the opportunity to meet and make friends with interesting people is balanced by the sad fact that you often have to say goodbye to friends who have been important in your life. I do accept it, and though it makes me sad, I am happy for the quality these friendship add to my life.
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Farewell friend
.
A pebble drops, still ripples form,
slow spreading on deep water.
A light breeze blows, reflections change
and never quite resettle.
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Though seasons ebb, fresh buds emerge
and opening, shape our living.
Future days will bear some trace
of fruit set in this season.
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This little poem speaks for itself and my left leg…
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Thigh muscles
My left leg wants to stay in bed,
dragging behind my restless head
off for a morning walk.
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Written by Jordan Nicholas, a very clever 14 year old and posted by his brother on twitter. It quickly went viral – must be striking a chord somewhere.
First read it, then read it again, from the bottom up, and it is a very different poem.
Our Generation
Our generation will be known for nothing.
Never will anybody say,
We were the peak of mankind.
That is wrong, the truth is
Our generation was a failure.
Thinking that
We actually succeeded
Is a waste. And we know
Living only for money and power
Is the way to go.
Being loving, respectful, and kind
Is a dumb thing to do.
Forgetting about that time,
Will not be easy, but we will try.
Changing our world for the better
Is something we never did.
Giving up
Was how we handled our problems.
Working hard
Was a joke.
We knew that
People thought we couldn’t come back
That might be true,
Unless we turn things around.