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.