Do not ask me to whisper
Dhaka would shut me out
Do not ask me to turn my run into a serene walk
Dhaka would push me fall
Do not ask me to feel the black of an apocalypse night
Dhaka would gulf me up
Do not ask me for a landscape delight
Dhaka would turn my sigils into fragile
"Have I ever drifted in Shahbag road
wrapping warmth in a Kashmiri-shawl-winter?"
Do not even dare to ask!
Do not ask the shrill delight of Dhaka's midnight light
Nightingales of Ramna's boundary-tent
would turn Dhaka into blockage
Do not ask!
Dhaka would swallow itself up!
The poet is working with The Daily Observer
