Words from Diary

                                                                                                            

Words taken from  the diary Dated 30^th July, 2013

On 20^th of July, Saturday, I  was called by friend of mine to particpate in a conference held by some indigenous group. The speaker speaks about indigenous movement, how it started, how small yet contrast country like Nepal got impacted by its movement. And in the later part of his speech he speaks of homeland, recite two lines of Kabita

‘My homeland is far away,

Up from the plains

Covered by blankets of the Himalayas

My daughter has a red color face.

Right after the conference ended we walked out like everyone, In a hurried manner even knowing we have no single work to perform. Hence, it shows how psychologically we got taught. but it’s better the way it is as things are better the way they are, trying too much to correct wrong happenings sometime yield negative results.

Like that of my friend question how do you fell about your homeland? With his question I recall that I have nothing to relate with my homeland, I was grown somewhere else nearly  90 % of my life. With this one can pretend how detach am. Considering this I never felt I belonged to that region but still I can’t clearly say I am not from that region.

“It’s better you know only required knowledge about some issue, as often when you know more than required, you try to know more and more as your desire to know more increases. As a result either you become more patriotic or either you turned to hate for what it is and how it is.”

Leave them, I have something other to share

Today, I went nowhere received not a single call neither dialed single either. Since months ago, I started making a resolution for a next day in night before. Though I am lazy like frog yet two weeks past I haven’t disappointed myself. I made resolution at night before and try to accomplish it with full heart next day.

          Yesterday evening, not evening, ‘actually night I think as after 10 PM it’s probably night with a sense, until the sun is not above the horizon again, I mean next morning.’ I made my mind to recount the poems which really impacted my thinking or say  personally i love in a numerical sequence, in descending order.

#	Name of the poem	Name of the poet
1	Phenomenal women	Maya Angelon
2	The road not taken	Robert Frost
3	If you forget me	Peblo Neruda
4	Still I rise	Maya Angelon
5	Dreams	Langston Hugles
6	Annabel lee	Edgar Allan Poe
7	If	Rudyard Kipling
8	Invictus	William Ernst Henely
9	Stopping by woods on a snowy Evening	Robert Frost
10	I know why the caged bird sings	Maya Angelon

P.S

In the above table, I know I haven’t mentioned some legendary poet and theirs works. I mean that of William Shakespeare, Alferd Lord Tennyson and Rabindranath Tagore’s Gitanjali. Yes generally as a poet I do admire Tagoreji with his Gitanjali - very spiritual collection of poem. But as the poem “Phenomenal women” always brought inspiration to my heart. How Maya has narrated her life events saying how confident she is without claiming better than anyone. She speaks of her body and self expression and how man does fall on those expressions.                                                                           

Insignificance

Yesterday, as moonlight glitters upon the valley

I climbed to the roof

To gaze the luminous landscape of western mountain

I stare at a starry sky

To look out at the infinite expanse of sky

 Surprisingly,

Instead I was looking inward of my own presences

Wandering inside the garden of  past,

Up the hills and down the hills

Listening to my own footstep

From far away to each corner

Hearing my own voice

That was stammering and struggling to reach the ears

As  each minute I try to recall

I try to comprehend my failures

Yes, though it was hard, really hard

Yet at last,  I made peace with circular moving arrows

But then I realize the insignificance of my own being.

In my own won past.

Published on Republica-Gennext, Nepal's National daily, newspaper

Worker Works

WEquality

 ‘Lad you lead

Lad you are ‘leader.

Your pal ‘ speaks

His lips crack, face black

Hammer in right, nails in left

Will you? Will you?

Can you? Can you?

‘And thoughtful owner asks

Her lips red, eyes hidden in glass

Designer bag on right, smart phone in left

                                                                                                   

Carpenter

When you cut wood with saw

I see the colors of your life narrating on the face

Your son, Noor of your eye

Why he is away from your site?

Why he is not alike child of rest?

Playing in the field, attending the temple.

Your darling, dignity of your home

Why she doesn't wear ornaments to rectify her femine?

Why of cloths she waits for

Summers in winter and winter in summer?

Perhaps! You still work a little less

Or perhaps! You still still lack spirituality.

Portrait

Your forgotten eye

Blinking

Watching my bony palms.

Your faded face

Unclearly

Overrunning most of my memories.

Your white gown, on you I can see

Renews me

Like at first time.

I  haven’t looked to your portrait.

Encircle by flowers.

Till now

I could have remembered the longing voice

And can ask

‘Listen

How do I

Say things I wish to?

You could have nursed little guts

And waited a little more

And would have listened

 The sounds of my inner music

‘Every day

I  struggle to recall your Himalayan face

Like a tortured soul

Yet I pretend untroubled

to look fullness.

My suffering

They speak

Light clears away the darkness

Darkness of suffering

So lord, I came to you

And bow my head

Done everything they had told me to do

My suffering is hunger

Appease my hunger

My suffering is thirst

Allay my thirst.

My suffering is a need

Fulfill my need

I am waiting for your miracle

to hear

melodious call of the spring cuckoo’

Proud I

My friend, you are invisible

No one sees you

You are only a name, Intangible name.

With your name you exist

But what is your name?

I

Me

He

She

They

Them

My friend, is you “I”?

But which is I in you?

Your skin?

Your heart?

Your eye?

Your thigh? Your blood?

Which one? Which one is ‘I’ in you?

I know you are just an invisible breath

Breath with your invisibility born

Breath with you discover the world

Of breath your invisibility dies.