နစက ႏွင့္ ငါ [The NaSaKa and A Rohingya]

ျမန္မာျပန္ 🔰  ႐ိုဟင္ေလး

႐ိုးစင္႐ိုးသား ေမြးဖြားငါက
မ်ဳိးမွာဗီဇ ႐ိုဟင္ဂ်ာ။
အာဏာရွင္တည္ တို႔္ျပည္မမွ
နစကမွည္း သေႏၶတည္လွ
ရက္စက္အ့ံဩ ဇမၺဴေက်ာ္
တစ္ကိုးကိုးတစ္ ေၾကာင္းသစ္ေနာ္။

တစ္ကိုးကိုးႏွစ္ရဲ႕ မီးမွ်စ္ေတာက္
ေသြးေသာက္ရဲေဘာ္ ေထာင္သန္းေက်ာ္
ေျပေခ်ာစာလည္း ရာထက္မနည္း
တိတ္ဗ်ဴဟာစုတ္ ေရငံုခလုတ္ျဖင့္
ငါ့ နိဗၺာန္ႏွင့္ ပက္ပင္းႀကံဳ၍
အကိုင္းသာမက်န္ ျမစ္ပါလွန္႐ုန္း။

“ေဟာ့ဒီမွာ ဘဂၤလီေက်ာင္းသား!
ဆယ္တန္းေအာင္မယ္ မယားေကာင္းယူမယ္၊
ပညာသင္က်ဳိး နပ္ေလတာက
သျပာတစ္သန္း မယားကံေကြၽး
အဖတ္တင္တာ ငါ့တို႔ဗုဒၶႏိုင္ငံဝယ္။”

ငါ့ရဲ႕ေခါင္းထဲ ခုတိုင္ရဲ
တင္ပဲ့ခတ္ေန ထိုစကားေလး။
ဆယ္တန္းေျဖရည္ သြားေနတုန္း
စစ္ေဆးဂိတ္ဝက သေရာ္တာေလး။

ဘယ္လိုေမ့ငါ့  သူယုတ္မာကို
သူနဲ႔ငါဖြဲ႕ စံုတြဲခ်ည္းပဲ
စစ္တပ္ကသူ ျဖစ္ရင္လဲ
ငါကသားေကာင္ ႐ိုဟင္ဂ်ာပဲ။

သူမုန္းေလသံ  ႏွာေခါင္းနီ
အဘယ္မွ်ေခၚေစ ဘဂၤါလီ
‘ခ်စ္သား၊ခ်စ္သား’ ေမ့ေခၚသံေလာက္
ခမ္းနားအဘယ္ ရိွေပအံ့။
သူ႕အုပ္ခ်ဳပ္ေရး အခန္းကြယ္ထဲ 
ၾကည့္ရိပ္ကနဲ ခ်ိန္ကေလးမွာ
ဘဝင္လႈပ္ရွား ႏိုးထလာ။

နံနက္မိုးလင့္ မ်က္စိဖြင့္ေသာ္
ေၾကာက္လွန္႔မႈက ပထမ
အူရႊင္မရိွ စက္ေတာ္ေပ်ာ္ရင္း
အေဖာ္မဲ့ေမွာင္ ျဖတ္ေက်ာ္ရွင္
နာတာရွည္ဒုကၡေၾကာင့္ေလး။

အရွက္ႏွင့္အျပစ္ ေဘးပတ္ဝိုင္း
ဘဝတံုးထင္မွတ္ ဘံုက်မိႈင္း။

သူ႕သြင္အဂၤါ ငါ့ေမ့ႏိုင္ေျခ
ေမ့ႏိုင္မယ္မထင္ဘူး ဘယ္ေတာ့မွ
ငမိုက္ေပးတဲ့  ငယ္ဘဝ၊
ဘာဘာေသာက လက္ေဆာင္ေပး
ခ်မ္းတုန္ေဒါထြက္ မာယာထဲ၊
ငို႐ိႈက္ပူေဆြး ဒီဂရီျမင့္ႏွင့္ေလး။

အေထာက္အထားေတြ သိမ္းယူခဲ့
ထြက္ဆိုခ်က္ေတြ ဂုဏ္နိမ့္ေစ
ျငင္းခ်က္ထိပ္က ေျခလွမ္းတိုင္း။
က်ပ္တည္းမႈလည္း အသက္တိုင္းကြယ္။

တို႔ဘဝရဲ႕ တိုင္ဆိုင္းႀကိဳးတို အရာဟူသမွ်ဟာ
ပ်က္စီးေနတဲ့ ေရဝဲႏွင့္
ဖ႐ိုဖရဲတန္ဆာထဲ ေလ်ာ့က်ဆံုးလို႔ေသ။
ဪ… အဘယ္မွ် မတည့္
သူတို႔အျပဳေလး။

သူတို႔၏ ႏွာေခါင္းပြမႈ
အျပဳစီ၌ တို႔ရဲ႕ ဆႏၵျပင္းေတြ
ေမွာင္မည္းႏွစ္ျမႇပ္ေလ။

အမ်ဳိးသမီးေတြ မုဆိုးမျဖစ္ေန
အထီးက်န္ခဲ့၊ ခိုရာမဲ့
ဖြားျမင္စသားေလး ဇာတာမဲ့
ပန္းကေလးေတြလဲ ကင္းဖူလံု
လူငယ္ေတြက ဘဝဆံုး
ေမ်ာ္လင့္ခ်က္ပဲ့ ဆံုးတေစ
ကာယိကထိ စိတၱဇႏွင့္ေလး။

လူထုတစ္စု ႀကိဳးေႏွာင္မွန္သမွ်
ျဖတ္ခံရ၍ ႏွင္ထုတ္ခံေလ
လမ္းေၾကာင္းသြယ္ 
သတ္ျဖတ္ဇီဝ အၿပံဳလိုက္မက
ႀကိမ္းေျခာက္ရင္ေလး ေျခာက္လန္႔သံႏွင့္ေလ။

မ်ဳိးတံုးသတ္ျဖတ္ စီစဥ္ရာ
ေသာကအေပးဆံုး တရားခံေပ။
ဘဂၤလီဇာတ္သြင္း ႐ိုဟင္ဂ်ာေပ်ာက္
ပန္းခ်ီကားခ်ပ္ ပံုေဖာ္ရာ
သူကပဲတစ္စု ထိန္းေက်ာင္းေပးတာ
မုန္းတီးပ်ံႏွံ ဆီသို႔ေလး။

စိတ္ကူးလွေတြ အိပ္ဆိုးအသြင္
ေျပာင္းေပးေရာင္တင္ သူကပဲ။
ရွင္သန္သူေတြ မသာပမာ
သက္ေမြးေက်ာင္းတာ သူတို႔ပါပဲ။

သက္တမ္းအဆံုး သူလႊဲေပးခဲ့
ေမြးရာပါအမြဲ ေသတမ္းစာေလး။
ႏႈတ္ဆက္သြားခါ ဟားဟားရယ္နဲ႔
သူရွာပန္းတိုင္ ေအာင္ခဲ့ၿပီ။

တစ္သံုးဇြန္လ ဆယ့္ငါးရက္
ေႁမြေဟာက္ပမာ ေရေျပာင္းသြား
နယ္ျခားေစာင့္ နတ္ဆိုးႏွင့္ေလး။

ငါကိုတစ္ခါ လဲျပန္လိုက္ၿပီ
ယံုရခက္ေသာ ခိုးဝင္ဘဂၤါလီ။
ငါ့အားယခု ဘဂၤလီသာ
ျမန္မာက တီထြင္လိုက္တဲ့ ဘဂၤါလီပါ…။

The Nasaka and A Rohingya

Ro Mayyu Ali
RB Poem
April 3, 2017

I was born to a bona fide 
By the genetic of Rohingya 
And it's Nasaka as a foetus 
In the womb of my country's dictatorship 
Known as one of the world's most brutal Juntas 
Perhaps, it's in 1991's Myanmar.

In scorching heat of 1992, 
He with thousands of comrades 
In over hundreds of settlements 
With quite switch of Junta's past strategies 
Taken encounter into my heaven 
Not only to hack the branches 
But to eliminate the entire root

"Look! A Bengali student! 
He'll pass matric and marry a wife who gives 10 million kyats. 
That's the only benefit of his educating in our Buddhist country!" 

Still echoing into my head 
What he told me in a check post 
While going to sit for my matric exam 
How could I forget each of his?

He and me, not less than a pair 
Even he from royal Junta 
And I from prey of Rohingyas 
How much he's called me 'Bengali' 
In his tone of red-nose mood 
Never be the equal grand of 
My mom ever called me 'Dear' 
Moment of my frequent glimpse 
Into the hidden chapter of his reign 
A time of my heart feeling goes out

Fear is my first feeling 
When I open my eyes in morning 
Just life in empty joy 
Sound sleep through the lonesome dark 
Because of chronic and traumatic 
Shame and guiltiness begin to surround 
Thought of ending life is common 
I might forget his feature 
Shall never I forget 
How he made me feel in my boyhood. 
What he led me suffering 
In full guile of rigor and rampage 
A high-court level of sobs and wails

Identities were confiscated. 
Testimonies were degraded. 
Peak of denial in every step 
Tangible coercion for every breath 
In a very short length of stay, 
Everything in our life descended 
Into a whirlpool of wreckage 
And ornament of havoc, as well 
Ah! How allergic all of his were! 
Every single practice of his flares 
The dark pines of our mind dip deeper.

Women are widowed and single. 
New-born are without certificates. 
Children are lack of welfare. 
Young people are broken. 
All lost hope and are traumatized. 
To a group, every string is well-cutted off. 
This is the way a group of people be expelled 
Not with a mass slaughter 
But with whimper after whimper

Indeed, he's one of the most doleful 
Of genocidal operations against Rohingya 
So even the masterpiece of Bengalization to elite Rohingya 
He's the one 
Who herds affection towards the animosity 
He's the one 
Who turns other's dream to nightmare 
He's the one 
Who keeps people dead being alive 
At the end his decade, 
All ever has he well set up 
Bequeathing his innate legacy 
The victory he sought was won 
And farewell in laughter and flavour

On 15 of June, 2013, 
He the cobra saw the bound of the halt 
And transformed to BGP 
And I'm made an incredible illegal immigrant. 
Verily, I'm made an immigrant Bengali. 
I'm seen as a Bengali. 
And now I'm a Bengali. 
A Myanmar's well-generated Bengali!


The poet is an original Rohingya. He himself was the victim of Nasaka operation. Nasaka, the Burmese term called to Border Immigration Forces. In 1992, it's established by Myanmar's Junta administration to set up the genocidal strategies against Rohingya. After 2012-June violence, it officially came to a halt on 5 of March, 2013. And now it is seen as the Border Guard Police (BGP) in Northern Rakhine State.