Song

In the eyes of young lover ( cheated )

with distress shadow by his side

time moves like an old man

Into the night

when up in the sky

changing colors of clouds dance.

He sing of love, he sings of his darling

to stir up his trouble

to stir up his sentiment.

From his guitar

plodding musical rhythm floats with hundreds of beats.

From his mouth

sentimental pop songs flies far towards his presence.

He sings of a day, they first met

day of azure

beside the shore of river

beneath the coconut tree

He sings of a day of a  lover sigh

when from wreathe of Darjeeling mist

gliding she appear 

if as a candlelight, lid inside a wide dark room

He sing of her eye

which blinks and brings bliss to his heart.

He sings of her vigorous face

with vivid vision on cheek.

He sings of her thick black hair

which he describe smooth as feathers of birds

 tightly tied.

He sings about her voice

sweet alike singing of his mother

 He sings of a day, they last met.

inside a void room

beneath a glimmering of bulb light

'with false scandal she put forwarded to him by his sight

And sobbing he sings, about her poor judgement 

and how she vanish by his sight.

Into the night

when up in the sky

changing colors of clouds dance

He sing of love, he sings of his darling

to stir up his trouble

to stir up his sentiment.

From his guitar

plodding musical rhythm floats with hundreds of beats.

From his mouth

sentimental pop songs flies far towards his presence.

River unnamed (Childhood days in Oodlabari)

He looks to horizon, he sees blue of horizon

he gaze beneath, he sees blue of layer making small waves.

'He hears the sound of waves

again and again

it comes to his ear ineffective as barks of mad dog to madman.

But on curves

river uprise

if he awake from night

to voice is free and fearless existence.

Meanwhile on shore, river voice get reduce

likely stop and push.

Shore takes out rich soil, sand and gravel from river unnamed.

like colonial empire takes treasure from colonize nation.

Thinlay and I used to walks upon the beach

after playing cricket all day

to swim on side of river for relief.

Thinlay, seeing  me

used to stand erect on rock, curve his upperparts

then bends his body to touch his feet.

Again up his upperparts

on approx ninety degree

he looks to horizon, he sees blue of horizon

he gaze beneath, he sees blue of layers making small waves

and within seconds, he dives inside blue of layer

thinking of divine path.

Discovery of Nepal

Context

Exhausted circle 

Change chants

chosen chance

corrupt crown

coward crowd

Cunning crows curbs cow

countryman can't counter

counterproductive can cost

context continues

While, cough countryman can certainly lament.  

POP Singer

Amid all odd

her appearance appeared

"Fair oval face, 

Black long hair and eyes small as of central Asian

while, her body brought aroma around

which arouse aura among audience.

And amid all odd

"she sang of her beloved

brashly with roaring of flames

rolling role he played and left.

But she sang, 

fairly without  emotion

and listener fairly listening her emotion verbal

heaped their body, while their throat roared.

Fear

she succeed to take complete circle

but behind fear flight over organs

which wiping happening happiness.

'after all

within her 

was woman

living legend

but beside

within winning woman

was woman

unclean using 

legally ban substances

Light and Dark

Night

'Night falls

and brings fear of dark terror

but again on next morning

light glitters from eastern horizon

like sound waves of holy prayer pitch from holy mountain

to banish that fear

Morning

On morning 

birds chants awakening melody

from bloomed branches of trees

whose green leaves fills with rain dew

ready to fall on floor- anytime

while, at this time cool breeze would blow

saying children 'run to school

to attain enlightenment

whereas, for fathers 'run to earn 

so to  keep on run

Mathematics

With strange smell in voice like of acidic smell of onion

Guruji, would scold me

On one edge of rectangular classroom

For equation i wrongly solved

'With furious face, his lips open to quote 

"Blinds are a man, who know no mathematics"

And if like waves, it comes sound grinding.
 After collision of Guruji's saliva onto my solid face

But before Gurji's voice goes silent 

He would ask me to solve another equation 
From complex number

 Hopelessly

Complexity of number - puzzle me

And for reason i become blinded

Like you

Like you

I am a seeker, and often find myself restless

Which gets me into trouble.

Like you,

I have lots of enthusiasm

But I don’t stick with one thing for very long

So it fades rather quickly.

Like you,

Occasionally, I do get  selfish

And persuade people to do things

Only in I am interested.

Like you,

I am huge rebel

And can’t accept your perspective

And can’t get along.

And like you

I am original person

With amazing ideas.

SECRET Room

For  love,

You have to allow someone into your secret room.

And to take the fragrance of your hidden things,

Your fear of exposure.

And

For your understanding

He unzips his heart

To show the sweet innocence trapped in his own room.

Like you do so.

Paint's Theme

On a canvas,

An artist was painting
"Dispiritedly with oily colours

Naked sketch of her

Drawn ashamed with shamefaced

Next to her, a man was drawn

Befitted by white beard

Religious ropes with impure hidden.

‘I thought what’s on her mind?

Why she is questioning sanctity of a saint?

While she picks black on the brush

   And starts to color ‘beside the subject

Alas! 'in my surprise

Stroke after stroke

Some mystery -  Unknown, untamed

Keeps on folding
On a canvas

So,  I thought again of her theme

Sin hidden within the silk

oh! modern art, ah! modern saint 'a weak voice arise in my throat.

Trying to write some "Proverbs"

Hunter always glorifies his number of successful hunts but he fails to count the number of bullets he missed in the process. 

Humans are puppet of emotion, not of logic

In the world of  blocs, Inherent in itself is a threat.

Today “History” is not simply a study of the past. It’s more than that, it’s a tool - ‘a political tool for elites to glorify their present referring their glorious past. And for a Suppressed group to rectify their present by referring their humiliated past.’

Often, political blame between two leaders in democracy sounds just like an argument between two footballer ‘one claiming you could have passed well while another keep on opposing you could have run to control the ball and would have scored.

Don’t feel pity on a competitor who lose against you this time. if you do so, then remember either you are underestimating his/her capacity for next time or either you are having an ego.

When sentiment comes,  the man in you speaks about what he felt in the heart rather than why he felt. And that fictitious narration destroy the truth.

“You have to know that

sometime war is for peace”

 When your eyes encounter disabilities of a person at very first sight, then your eyes would never going to encounter his abilities any time, if so not anytime soon.

We are like strings of a guitar

Each with own sound and each with own importance.

It was the place, you was the guy and everything was meant before. Whether you do believe in such things or not but every face you encounter today is a memory for tomorrow. 

For every natural happening, you have two option to determine why it occurred.

Myth or reason?

We search for answer only when we have question.

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.