Performativity


 What if I am not used to see the love people show me?! 

What if It's me, I don't know how to read the concern of people reaching out for me,

What if It's always me not being able to understand their affection for me?! 

What if I can not fully comprehend the admiration people have for me?! 

For I tend to mistake every genuine interest likely to be that of an opportunist, 

For I always wonder why me and why this and that happens, 

For I am over consumed with thoughts and debts of thoughts, residues of it lingering to my tongue and wipe it through my finger tips- my sulken eyes,

What if It's me?! I am singing the wrong lyrics?

Writing the wrong composition?! 

What if I am dark, twisted and swayed? 

What if I am the detour that I see within people?!

What if I hide the monster that I see awake in people?!

What if I am the giant, destructing everything beautiful?! 

Brooding the best? Bringing out the worst in people?! 

What if I am the whole problem, not the solution?!

What if my truth does not benefit anyone except it haunts them?! 

What if I am a melancholy wrapped in flowers and fragrance?! 

And, what if I gain everything to lose them all at once to my  doubts?!

Honestly, the warmth of those hugs felt surreally good- but what would happen for once, if I believed your lies to be true?!

What if I am the darkness that tells people to look upon theirs?!

What if I am the chaos that stumbles all the humble people out there?!

What if I am the underworld don destroying the peace of sleeping people?!

I stir storm in them! But, what for?! 

What if I only count pure intentions at beginning, but, later no matter what good you bring on table, I turn the table upside down, 

The runny sunny side egg yolk is dripping all over the table cloth- oh, I messed up again! 

What if It's me, I can not measure the small efforts you do for me later on?!

What if my silence would work wonders more than my spoken words?

What if I could heal people more with my quiet obedience? 

Instead of meeting people with resilience, I could meet them half-way with a glamorous performance! 

After all, this world is a humongous stage of performativity and here I come with a bare face!

The more and more I confront you, 

I become you!

A synthetic version of you- hardly to be distinguished from you!

What's next?! What's the alternative?! 

You keep looking next alternatives until you reach a saturation, 

No options left, you are left with you- only to chose yourself in each circumstances! 

No alternatives suit your taste, or pallets! 

So painfully singular you remain! 

A heartthrob mystic with unique eloquence only to fall for horns of devils!

Defeating the evils in them and absorbing the evil, 

Becoming the horn yourself to honk the devil-

You become the messiah version of the evil!

And then, you ask me, what are you?!

I am what you think of me!

I am what you see, and made me do!



©® Farheen Bhuiyan Nancy 

Time Frame: 5 am, Mirpur Cantonment. 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

শিল্পীর মৃত্যু

Image
  কবি ফারহিন আক্তার ভূঁইয়া ন্যান্সি জন্মেছেন মরুভূমির দেশ আমিরাতের ফুজেরার দিব্বা শহরে। বাবা ফজলুল হক ভূঁইয়ার চাকুরি সূত্রে দুবাইতে অবস্থান করেছেন অর্ধেক জীবন। ফারহিন ন্যান্সি , দেশে এসে পড়াশুনা করছেন বর্তমানে , ঢাকা বিশ্ববিদ্যালয়ের সমাজবিজ্ঞান বিভাগের স্নাতকোত্তর পর্যায়ে। ছোটবেলা থেকে লেখালেখির সাথে সম্পৃক্ত কবির বেশ কয়টি লেখা কবিতা প্রকাশিত হয়েছে বিভিন্ন পত্র - পত্রিকা , লিটয় ম্যাগাজিনগুলো এবং সংকলনে। ইউএসএইড ২০১৯ - এ সেরা পঞ্চাশ গল্পরচিয়তার মধ্যে স্থান পেয়েছেন। এছাড়াও , বিশ্ববিদ্যালয়ের সাহিত্য সাময়িকীসহ , ব্লগে নিয়মিত লেখেন। বাংলা - কবিতা ডটকমে বেশ সরব ছিলেন। দেশ্মাতৃকাকে ভালোবেসে , দেশ ও মাটির মানুষের জন্যে উনি গভীর অন্তর্দৃষ্টি দিয়ে দর্শনসমৃদ্ধ কবিতা রচয়ন করেন। মানুষের মুক্তি ও উত্তরণ তার লেখালেখির উদ্দেশ্য।                   শিল্পীর মৃত্যু                   ...
Read more

Alienation from the Roots, DNA race and Divine Masculinity-femininity: Super-ego and evolution of Moral Justice

Image
Yes, your DNA is selfish- Selfish in preserving its traits-the trends traced back to your origin,  It chooses carefully,  The source and you are looted not only via bio-weapons but by your very own mind-set which is altered by the blending of projected socio-cultural trends- now globalized, Alienation from self and your roots, You are sabotaging your own originality, Deviating from your path, But, your ancestors are calling you- Your collective memory recalls- Who you were and who you oathed to be- We are alienated from the the culture that once aspired us- Gave us our identity-our roots,  That's why we are facing the downfall, No ethical leadership, no divine masculine remained to lead us- To guide us- To show us path- To free us! No divine femininity from where the graceful civilization is born, Or,no divine womb from where the ancient civilization will be revived! And, Hyder asks me how do we survive the peril, the perish and who will be our pariah in the dystopian ord...
Read more

Deconstructed love

Image
 This breath is century old- the chilling breeze in the bridge, All the bright stars are covered in silver clouds, I have come across a long way- a long way before any of the bridges were built, Everything was meant to melt away like the snow in my hands near the fireplace, I have run in the woods before, I sang the love song earlier before the morning birds chirped, Will my eyes be tired of seeing the endless beauty that these mornings offer? Will my soul be worn out at the peace of such bliss? Love was never meant to be in partiality but it is, It is not wholesome like the solitary mornings, Even the brightest of all the shades fades away in the cruelest noon, The freezing vibes get itchy, But it's at the sunset point after the foggy morning when we meet at the cleared alley, Before that, every bridge has to be burnt that we have crossed, Before that, every soul should die before we become the awakened one! The falsehood of self portrayed by us in various temporalities,  Bef...
Read more