The Room in which I am Forced . . .

The room in which I now live has a closed window,
– A window that I cannot open at will.
– The window’s covered with a heavy curtain that I cannot move at will.
– I live in a room now,
– Where I cannot open the door at will, cannot cross the threshold.
– I live in a room, where the only other living inhabitants are
– Two sickly lizards on the wall. No man or any creature resembling a man is a allowed here.
– I live in a room where I find it a great strain to breathe.

There’s no sound around, but for banging your head against the wall.
– Nobody else in the world watches, except the couple of lizards.
They watch with eyes wide open, who knows
– if they feel the pain—Maybe they feel it.
– Do they too cry, when I cry?

I live in a room where don’t want to live,
– A room where I am forced to live,
– A room where democracy forces me to live for days unending,
– In a room in the dark, in incertitude, with a threat
hanging,
– In pain, breathing with difficulty, democracy
forces me to live,
– In a room where secularism drains me away of life, drop by drop.
– In a room my dear India forces me....
– I do not know if all those overbusy men or creatures that look like men will have a couple of seconds to spare to turn to
– The lifeless lump that comes out of the room some day,
A rotten, greasy lump, a lump of bones.
– Will death be release? It’s death perhaps that sets one free,
– Free at last to cross the threshold.
– The lizards will stare away the whole day,
– Maybe they too will feel sad.

Someone will bury me, maybe a government man,
– Wrapped in the flag of democracy, in the soil of
my dear India.
– I’ll find a home there at last, with no threshold
to cross,
– I’ll find a home there where breathing will be easy.

TASLIMA NASREEN
– (Dainik Statesman, January 31, 2008)
– Translated from the original Bengali by Samik Bandyopadhyay