You aren’t telling a lie
Fazal Shahabuddin
It’s long time passed, I stayed in Seol city.
Just I can remember 1992, an evening;
Some of us were sitting in a pub, gossiping.
There’s no wrong to sip wine here:
We were a few members,
some of us expected to drink
holding glass of wine in each hand,
we are people from different countries
sat together in a pub
under the light and shade of Kim-hotel.
Korean Lee, Dr. Isihara from Tokyo,
Young Teresa Maria Fernandez from Philippine, slim, slender vivacious beauty Maria from Manila Metro with strong personality explicitly
deep lust, except Lee
everyone is much or less poet.
Lee hosted drink for all of us.
However I couldn’t utter I am not alcoholic.
It’s unexpected though my exception
put them in surprise with a question : are you a devout religious person?
Lee got convinced that alcohol’s no concern
to the poet.
All drunkard immersed to the depth of night.
On the other side mild air’s coming
from the vast Kukak mountains, shadows lean ahead, Biela said,
“Don’t you take hard drinks”.
“No. I am sorry.” I wear smile on my lips.
Maria asked, “What faith makes you not to drink?”
“No. None. Simply
I am drunk in poetry.” I asserted.
“This is my faith. And my faith is in woman.
It’s irresistible. Have I pierced through her eyes?”
(Partly extracted from the Ittefaq, Dhaka, 14th April 2003 with courtesy.)
