परिवर्तन !

पत्तै भएन कि
थाहै पाईन ।
मुसा मार्न ल्याएको बिरालो
बाघरुपी भेष भिरेर
गर्जन थालेछ |
कसको दोष ?
ल्याउनेको कि परिवर्तन हुनेको ?

A Story

No nonsense, she said sobbing. What on hell you want of me, her voice grew louder.

The man beside her seemed to be contemplating like a sage during meditation.

Are you listening, she yelled. You don't think how important it is for me to be myself. I can't be your Victorian stuff looking after your sperm growing in me. My individual existence is more important, you see!

The sound of beetles from outside was apparently audible. But the man did not seem to listen neither to the voice from outside nor the one that was demanding his permission. 

I was the one who had been a witness to their debate and was growing numb every other second. I thought about the man, the woman and the other life. Was I being empathetic? I don't know; but I felt that I was crying. I don't know who I cried for.

Nightmare

Enticed with white traces of your hair
I hankered after.
Every next gallop
The distance rather increased
To make me run palpitating.
But, the horror!
You gazed with ember black complexion
Tongue frolicking with blood.
It was horror godified!
I saw,
But to have nightmare.

How old are you?

"Oh, you!", she spoke in tongues. He could see through startled hesitation running across her glossed face despite efforts to sneak them. 
"Want to have chocolate?" He nodded like a child to get cadbury wrapped in pink. 
"We hope to see you in Japan," a lad's voice ended his gaze at her.
"Y..ye..es, of course," He replied in stammering voice.
The short conversation brought a vista of memory in his mind. His mind could not stop recalling what had happened a week before.  
It was dusk and a kind of breeze with cold texture. It was his black jacket keeping him warm from Irish cold weather. The weather would not be cold early in his country. Might be, its a more of his age than the weather!
A voice from the back stopped him though it was not any of the one he had known before. Would he have paused had there been any male voice? I didn't know. But he stopped! 
"You must be from China," he said in assertive voice as if he was an expert in making out people's locating from their speech.
"A bad joke," she responded.
"Then, I am at least good at bad jokes." He waved his collar taking it as a complement. Next moment, some instinct made him say, "Konbanwa".
That was a surprise for her. Next moment, she came with arms wide to hug. A moment, may be five minutes! He didn't know exactly.
Then, she asked in whispering voice, "how old are you?"

My Martyrdom

Quite often,
I become a martyr of my good intention;
Words swirl my mind in reflection
With a blister in heart.
I inquire in naivity
Whether intentions are so un-codable.
In desperation, I recall creation myth
To inquire, if god would have used
'Let there be light'
Being afraid of intention coders!

Two prompts!

The writing I tried after two prompts (Literary Society, University of Limerick): eclipse in the sun from space & I am pregnant

Space, my granny would say, has value of peculiar type. It can be a vessel to fill in or yet-to-be-materialized terrain with curiosity. What is it going to be for me? Curiosity or vessel? Maybe it counts different for you!

Your words resound, "I find solar eclipse from space very curious."

"So what?", I had said in desperation.

Now, the space inside me has been solar eclipse for radiation gaze. You see no life in the eclipse and yet enjoy; I can't. What a pity! I have your eclipse inside and you are searching outside. I murmur, why are you away when I need you? Not even nine months!

Likely that you will find more joy than seeing eclipse. It will be your own curiosity. You will hear your sun trying to escape eclipse with my yell accompanying.

Man, your perspective needs change.

एउटा प्रश्न

जलेर अंगारिएको तिम्रो मन,

सबै अंग फालेपछि 

निको सम्झेर

आत्मरतिमा रमाउदा

म के भनू  ?

Translation
A Question
Your ember heart,
After having all organs thrown
If gets elated
Should I say anything?

I am in your country to answer!

"Why did you choose?"
Dazzled I was to respond.
What drove me then?
Enthusiasm! Would be a teenager's response!!
Then why?
...

Trauma of Maoist Insurgency in Literature

Ten years of Maoist insurgency in Nepal, launched by Communist Party of Nepal-Maoist (CPN-M) from February 1996 to November 2006, has inflicted some horrendous cases of traumatic experience. In statistical terms, around 17,000 were killed, 1500 disappeared, 75,000 injured and 250,000 internally displaced. The reality not acknowledged by the numeral above sounds equally horrible: countless people were tortured, raped,abducted and physically brutalized. Simply, it means the period has punctuated memory of a large number of people and become the subject of fairly substantial body of writing. The writings reveal variety in both the subject matter and the perspectives: a number of accounts record views of combatants/security forces; many other present reporting of media correspondents and a considerable number provide findings of researchers. In brief, the texts that ground on insurgency vary from analytical accounts to narrative representations. 

For full length article, please visit: http://www.nepjol.info/index.php/BOHDI/article/view/8046/6550

Retrospecting Chandigarh to Goa

We had to leave Nepal and to leave! The first was not easy but the second one was more difficult as it needed avoidance due to a compulsion to retort.

My friend Hem Raj Kafle and I had decided to escape in winter vacation to join conference in Chandigarh via the west of Nepal: an untrodden path in our series of journey to India. Earlier, we had been together to Gujarat. 

One and half day bus journey from Kathmandu till we met Bal Krishna ji in Mahendranagar was not an adventure for us. Neither was it tiresome may be because of Bal Krishna ji's sense of hospitality. 

The real adventure began across the border: around half an hour journey by a cart pulled by horse in very rough road. Any traveler via this road surely agrees.

(No/know)ledge

just a crack!
when you fail to mend,
you spill the world
to become nothing.
A destiny for (no)ledge!

Narcissus and Darwin

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