g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Poems of the Nepali Diaspora
web source:www.khasskhass.com
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 1 g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3 ;xsfo{ Joj:yfkg ;ldlt
;Nnfxsf/ uª\ufk|;fb pk|]tL s'nklt, g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg z]if 3n] cWoIf, u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3 -NRNA_
Joj:yfkg ;ldlt
;+of]hs M hLjf nfld5fg] lgjt{dfg cWoIf, u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3 ;b:o M 8f= lji0f'lje' l3ld/] pks'nklt, g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg ;b:o M k|f=8f= hLj]Gb| b]j lu/L ;b:o ;lrj, g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg ;b:o M eLd pbf; u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3 ;b:o M /fh]z /f0ff sfo{sf/L lgb]{zs, u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3
2 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Collaboration between Nepal Academy and Non Resident Nepali Association (NRNA)
Advisors Ganga Prasad Upreti Chancellor, Nepal Academy Shesh Ghale President Non Resident Nepali Association (NRNA)
Management Committee
Coordinator : Mr. Jiba Lamichhane Immediate Past President, Non Resident Nepali Association (NRNA) Member : Dr. Bishnubibhu Ghimire Vice-chancellor, Nepal Academy Member : Prof.Dr. Jivendra Deo Giri Member- secretary, Nepal Academy Member : Mr. Bhim Udas Non Resident Nepali Association Member : Mr. Rajesh Rana Executive Director, Non Resident Nepali Association
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 3
web source:www.khasskhass.com g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
;Dkfbs d08n cd/ lu/L eLd pbf; dft[sf kf]v/]n >j0f d'sf?ª
sfo{sf/L ;Dkfbs g/gfy n'O“6]n
k|sfzs g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3
4 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Poems of the Nepali Diaspora
Editorial Board Amar Giri Bhim Udas Matrika Pokharel Shrawan Mukarung
Executive Editor Narnath Luintel
Nepal Academy and Non Resident Nepali Association (NRNA)
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 5 g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf k|sfzs M g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3 ;+:s/0f M klxnf] -@)&@ c;f]h_ ;jf{lwsf/ M k|sfzsdf cª\u|]hL cg'jfb M – k|f=8f= cDd/fh hf]zL – s]zj l;Ub]n – hoGt zdf{ – an/fd clwsf/L – dx]z kf}8]n – ¿k]Gb| kf]v|]n – jfdb]j zdf{ – ;'/]z xfr]sfnL efiff ;Dkfbg M – x]dgfy kf}8]n -g]kfnL_ – an/fd clwsf/L -cª\u|]hL_ ;Hhf M j;Gt/fh c1ft d"No M ?= #().– -US$ 5:00_ ISBN : 978-9937-589-88-8 d'b|0f M ;f]kfg k|];, cgfdgu/, sf7df8f}F
6 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Poems of the Nepali Diaspora
Publisher : Nepal Academy and Non Resident Nepali Association (NRNA) Edition : First (October, 2015) Copyright : Publisher English Translation : - Prof. Dr. Amma Raj Joshi - Keshab Sigdel - Jayant Sharma - Bal Ram Adhikari - Mahesh Paudyal - Rupendra Pokhrel - Bamdev Sharma - Suresh Hachekali Language Editing : - Hemnath Paudel (Nepali) - Bal Ram Adhikari (English) Layout : Basanta Raj Agyat Price : Rs.390/- [US$ 5:00] ISBN : 978-9933-589-88-8 Printing : Sopan Press, Anamnagar, Kathmandu
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 7 ;DkfbsLo
g]kfnsf efiff ;flxTosf ;fy} ;du| g]kfnL jfª\dosf] pGgogsf lglDt g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fsf] :yfkgf ePsf] xf] . g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fgn] cfˆgf] p2]Zo cg'¿k lg/Gt/ e"ldsf ;Dkfbg ub{} cfPsf] 5 . @)^@÷)^# ;fnsf] P]ltxfl;s hg cfGbf]ng, To;af6 k|fKt pknlAw / o;sf] dd{ cg'¿k k|1f–k|lti7fg g]kfnsf ;a} hfltsf efiff, ;flxTo, ;+:s[lt, bz{g nufot jfª\dosf ljljw If]qsf] ;+/If0f, ;+jw{g Pj+ ljsf;sf lglDt ;lqmo /x]sf] 5 . ;fy{s k|fl1s s]Gb|sf ¿kdf efiff ;flxTo nufot jfª\dosf ljljw If]qsf] pGgog / To;sf dfWodaf6 g]kfnL ;dfhsf] ¿kfGt/0f Pj+ cflTds ;d[l4df of]ubfg k'¥ofpg' k|1f–k|lti7fgsf] d"ne"t p2]Zo g} xf] . g]kfnL efiff ;flxTosf] ;+/If0f, ;+jw{g / ljsf;sf lglDt g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf] klg dxŒjk"0f{ of]ubfg /x]sf] 5 . g]kfnL efiffnfO{ cGt/f{li6«o ¿kdf :yflkt ug{ klg o;n] dxŒjk"0f{ e"ldsf ;Dkfbg u/]sf] 5 . g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf] Oltxf; Tolt nfdf] geP klg g]kfnL efiff ;flxTosf If]qdf o;n] pNn]Vo of]ubfg lbPsf] 5 / o;nfO{ ;xof]u k'¥ofpg' g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fgsf] klg bfloTj xf] . g]kfn k|1f– k|lti7fg :jo+n] cGt/f{li6«o :t/df g]kfnL efiff ;flxTosf] ljsf;sf lglDt lg/Gt/ k|oTg ub{} cfPsf] 5 . k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3sf lar ;xsfo{ x'g ;Sbf g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fn] g]kfnL efiff ;flxTosf If]qdf lbPsf] of]ubfgnfO{ cem ;d[4 ug{ ;lsg] jf:tljstfnfO{ b[li6ut ub{} k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3sf lar ;xsfo{ cf/De ePsf] xf] . o;} cg'?k @)&) ;fn cflZjgdf g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3sf lar g]kfnL efiff, ;flxTo / ;+:s[ltsf] ;+jw{g ub{} ljZjJofkLs/0f ug{, b]z ljb]zdf /x]sf ;fwsx¿sf] pkl:yltdf sfo{qmdx¿sf] cfof]hgf ug{, g]kfn / g]kfn aflx/ /x]sf ;|i6fx¿sf] ;[hgf cfbfg k|bfg ug{, g]kfnleqsf] n]vg / aflx/sf] 8fo:kf]l/s n]vgsf] k|ltlglwTj x'g] u/L k|ltlglwd"ns u|Gy k|sfzg ug{, g]kfnleq / aflx/ n]lvPsf g]kfnL ;flxTosf]
8 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf cGt/f{li6«o efiffdf cg'jfb u/L g]kfnL ;flxTonfO{ ljZjJofkLs/0f ug{ Pj+ g]kfn / g]kfn aflx/sf ;|i6fx¿lar ;f+:s[lts cfbfg k|bfgsf] sfo{qmd ;~rfng ug{ ;dembf/L kqdf x:tfIf/ ePsf] lyof] . ;+;f/e/ 5l/P/ /x]sf] g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/f ;[hgfTds ¿kn] lgs} ;lqmo 5 / cfˆgf] efiff ;flxTosf] pGgogsf lglDt sl6a4 5 . g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf] If]q lj:tf/ / o;df /xg] leGgtfsf sf/0f cg]s g]kfnL 8fo:kf]l/s ;flxTosf] cjwf/0ff cufl8 ;fl/Psf] kfOG5 . o; cfwf/df g]kfnL 8fo:kf]l/s ;flxTonfO{ pTt/ cd]l/sfnL g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/f ;flxTo, Nofl6g cd]l/sfnL g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/f ;flxTo, o'/f]k]nL g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/f ;flxTo, cf];]lgofnL g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/f ;flxTo, Pl;ofnL g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/f ;flxTo / clk|msfnL g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/f ;flxTodf ljefhg u/]/ cWoog ug{] ul/Psf] 5 . ljleGg g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf ;|i6fx¿ cfcfˆgf ljz]iftfx¿ ;lxt ;flxTosf ljleGg ljwfdf ;lqmo 5g\ / clxn];Dd ljleGg ljwfsf ;ofF} s[ltx¿ k|sflzt eO ;s]sf 5g\ . 8fo:kf]/fsf ;|i6fx¿n] 8fo:kf]/f ;flxTosf af/]df uDeL/ k|s[ltsf ;}4flGts ljrf/ ljdz{ klg rnfpFb} cfPsf 5g\ . g]kfnleq klg ^) sf] bzsb]lv g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/f ;flxTosf ljljw kIfsf af/]df ljljw sf]0faf6 ljrf/ ljdz{ rNb} cfPsf] 5 . g]kfnL 8fo:kf]l/s ;flxTosf] dxŒjnfO{ b[li6ut ub{} lqe'jg ljZj ljBfnon] klg g]kfnL 8fo:kf]l/s ;flxTosf] cWoognfO{ pRr txsf] kf7\oqmddf ;dfj]z u/]sf] 5 . g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3sf lardf ;xsfo{sf lglDt ePsf] ;xdlt cg';f/ k|:t't g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fgaf6 k|sflzt ePsf] 5 . o;df sljtfsf] cª\u|]hL cg'jfb klg ;dfj]z ul/Psf] 5 . g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf ;|i6fx¿n] ;a}eGbf a9L sljtf ljwfdf snd rnfPsf 5g\ . sljtf g} ;jf{lws n]lvPsf] 5 . o; oyfy{nfO{ b[li6ut ub{{} ;j{k|yd g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljsf sljtfx¿sf] ;ª\u|x k|sflzt ug{] lg0f{o g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3 ;xsfo{ Joj:yfkg ;ldltn] u/]sf] xf]] . k|sfzgsf ;Gbe{df ;a}eGbf sl7g sfo{ 5l/P/ /x]sf g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtfx¿sf] ;ª\sng, 5gf]6 / ;Dkfbg lyof] . ;+;f/el/ 5l/P/ /x]sf g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/faf6 sljtfx¿sf] ;ª\sng, 5gf]6 / ;Dkfbg cfkm}df si6;fWo sfd klg xf] . g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fdf sljx¿sf] lgs} 7'nf] ;ª\Vof ;[hg/t 5 . o; s[ltsf lglDt sljtfx¿ 5gf]6 ubf{ lglZrt dfkb08nfO{ cfwf/ agfOPsf] 5 . o;} cfwf/df o; ;ª\u|xdf (( hgf sljsf sljtfx¿ ;dfj]z ul/Psf 5g\ . sljtf
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 9 5gf]6 tyf ;Dkfbgsf dfkb08x¿ lgDgfg';f/ /x]sf 5g\ M -s_ sljtf ljwfdf ;fwgf/t :t/Lo sljtf ;[hgf ub{{} cfPsf g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljsf sljtfx¿ o;df ;dfj]z ul/Psf 5g\ . sljtfsf s'g} s[lt k|sflzt gu/]sf t/ :t/Lo sljtf ;[hgf ub{} cfPsf sljsf /rgfnfO{ klg o; ;ª\u|xdf ;dfj]z ul/Psf] 5 . sljtfsf] :t/LotfnfO{ sljtf 5gf]6sf] cfwf/ agfOPsf] 5 . -v_ sljtfsf] 5gf]6sf lglDt sljtfdf cleJoSt 8fo:kf]l/s r]tgfnfO{ dxŒj lbOPsf] 5 . 8fo:kf]l/s r]tgf gePsf jf To;sf] dd{nfO{ cfTd;ft\ gu/L n]lvPsf sljtfx¿nfO{ ;ª\u|xdf ;dfj]z ul/Psf] 5}g . -u_ 5l/P/ /x]sf] g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf] ;d'lrt k|ltlglwTjnfO{ sljtf 5gf]6sf] csf{] cfwf/ agfOPsf] 5 . sljtf ;ª\u|xdf ljljw g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf] ;dfg k|ltlglwTj eg] 5}g . s'g} 8fo:kf]/faf6 yf]/} / s'g} 8fo:kf]/faf6 w]/} sljx¿sf] k|ltlglwTj ePsf] 5 . o;f] x'g'sf] sf/0f sljtfsf] :t/Lotfsf ;fy} s'g} 8fo:kf]/fdf sljsf] ;ª\Vof w]/} / s'g}df sd x'g' xf] . -3_ sljtfx¿sf] 5gf]6 ubf{ n}ª\lus, hftLo Pj+ ef}uf]lns ;dfj]lztfnfO{ klg cfwf/ dflgPsf] 5 . -ª_ g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fd} /x]/ sljtf ;[hgf ul/ /x]sf sljsf /rgfx¿ dfq o; ;ª\u|xdf /flvPsf 5g\ . sDtLdf ltg–rf/ jif{b]lv 8fo:kf]/fdf /x]sf / sljtf ;[hgf u/]sf sljsf /rgfx¿nfO{ o; ;ª\u|xdf :yfg lbOPsf] 5 . uLt uhnnfO{ o; ;ª\u|xdf ;dfj]z ul/Psf] 5}g .
g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtfx¿sf] o; ;ª\u|xaf6 g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtfx¿sf] cWoog ljZn]if0f ug{ rfxg] k|fl1s ;d'bfo Pj+ o;sf] cf:jfbg ug{ rfxg] kf7sx¿ nfeflGjt x'g] 5g\ eGg] ljZjf; xfdLn] lnPsf 5f}F . o;af6 g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf] ;flxTosf] ljsf;df d2t k'Ug'sf ;fy;fy} g]kfn k|1f–k|lti7fg / u}/cfjf;Lo g]kfnL ;ª\3 larsf] ;DaGw / ;xsfo{nfO{ cem uf9f agfpg klg d2t k'Ug] 5 . cGtdf o; ;ª\u|xsf lglDt sljtf pknAw u/fP/ ;xof]u k'¥ofpg' x'g] sljx¿, sljtfsf] cª\u|]hL cg'jfb Pj+ g]kfnL / cª\u|]hL b'a} efiffsf] ;Dkfbgdf ;xof]u k'¥ofpg' x'g] ljleGg lj1 JolQmTjx¿k|lt xfdL xflb{s wGojfb k|s6 ub{5f}F .
10 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Editorial
Nepal Academy is an institution established to promote the literatures of the languages spoken in the nation. The institution has been catering to its goal since its establishment. To respect and capitalize on the outcome of the People’s Movement in the years 2062 and 2063, it has taken active initiation in the protection, promotion, and development of literatures, cultures of all national languages. As a centre of academic excellence, its ultimate aim is to transform Nepali society and promote internal harmony by promoting Nepali literature. The Nepali Diaspora has contributed to the protection and promotion of Nepali language and literature. Its role in promoting the Nepali language is also noteworthy. Despite its very short history, the role of the Nepali Diaspora in the promotion of Nepali language and literature cannot be overlooked. It is thus the responsibility of Nepal Academy to assist it in its noble effort. Nepal Academy itself is actively involved in the promotion of Nepali literature in the international arena. In this regard, we came to the realization that the collaboration between Nepal Academy and the Nepali Diaspora can expedite the literary efforts of the Nepali Diaspora and solidify its contribution. The present project is the result of this realization. As a result, Nepal Academy and the NRNA signed an agreement paper in October, 2013 to globalize the Nepali language, its literature and culture, to bring together the writers from home and abroad and organize different programmes, to exchange their literary creations, to publish the representative
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 11 anthologies of their works, to translate their works in Nepali into different international languages, and to organize literary and cultural exchange programmes. The Nepali Diaspora around the globe has appeared highly creative with its commitment to the promotion of Nepali language and literature. Scholars have come up with the concepts of different types of Nepali diasporic literature owing to its expansion and diversity. In effect, they have proposed the Latin American Nepali Diaspora, the Asian Nepali Diaspora, the African Nepali Diaspora and so on. The writers from each Diaspora are active in different genres with their specific experiences and writing features. There have been a significant number of publications from these different spheres of the Nepali Diaspora. These writers have raised serious theoretical issues as to their writing. Here in Nepal too, the Nepali literature of the Diaspora has been a matter of theoretical discussion and academic inquiry over the last decade. Realizing the importance of Nepali diasporic literature, Tribhuvan University has included the literature of the Nepali Diaspora in its Master’s Programme. Following the agreement between Nepal Academy and Non- resident Nepali Association, Nepal Academy has published the present anthology entitled Poems of the Nepali Diaspora. The anthology contains the poems in Nepali and English translation. Poetry is the most productive literary outcome of the Nepali Diaspora. Bearing this reality in mind, both the parties agreed to bring out the anthology of poems first. It was a daunting task for us to collect, select and edit the poems from the writers scattered around the globe. The number of the Nepali poets writing from the Diaspora is significantly large. So, we had to rely on certain criteria in the selection of poems. Catering to the following the editorial criteria, we selected 99 poets, one from each poet:
12 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com a) The poets from the Diaspora devoted to poetry. We have also given space to those poets who do not have a collection to their credit, but whose poems rate high in terms of creativity and originality. b) The expression of the diasporic consciousness. The poems lacking in this consciousness were excluded from the anthology. c) The representation of the Nepali Diaspora from different regions. The representation is not proportional, though. Some regions have more poems than the other regions. The quality of poems and disproportional the number of poets from different regions are the main reasons for this. d) The representation of gender, race and geography e) Only the poems of those poets writing from the Nepali Diaspora. We have selected the works of those poets who have been in the Diaspora for at least three years or so. The anthology does not comprise songs and ghazals. The poems in this anthology meet the above mentioned selection criteria set by the Editorial Board. We hope that this anthology will serve the interest of both Nepali and English readers, and will be useful for the academic community interested in studying poetry of the Nepali Diaspora. We also hope that its publication will promote the literature of the Nepali Diaspora and strengthen the collaboration between Nepal Academy and Non-resident Nepali Association. Last, but not least, we would like to thank the poets, English translators, and language editors for their valuable contribution to this anthology.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 13 cg'qmd
1. hLjg lhpg] alnj]bLdf === ò c1fg yfr{ -ljlkg v8\sf_ @@
2. k|]d lj?4 ò cgdf]n dl0f @^
3. wldnf] ;Demgf ò czf]s rflDnª /fO{ #@
4. cfdfsf] cfu|x ò cf>o /lj #*
5. d / hf–lu/] b}lgsLx¿ ò OGgf];]G6 /fhg ‘a:g]t’ $@
6. gfdsf s'/f gu/ efO ò Clif a:tfsf]6L $^
7. d]/f] kl/ro ò slkn clwsf/L %)
8. d zfGt g]kfnsf] vf]hLdf 5' ò sdnf k|;fO{+ %$
9. sfd, sf]l/ofsf] udL{ /=== ò sNkgf /fO{ ‘v';L’ %*
10. cgfldsf ò sNkgf ;'j]bL ^$
11. of] 3/ kSs} 9N5 xf]nf ò sfªdfª g/]z /fO{ ^^
12. d]/f] afWotf ò s'zn lwtfn &@
13. gofF 3n] ò s';'d 1jfnL &$
14. v';Lsf] b/af/ ò s[i0fkIf *)
15. ;lDemP/ b]z ò v8\u Gof}kfg] *$
16. b]p/fnLsf] 9'ª\uf]–b]z / d'unfg ò u0f]z v8\sf ()
17. gofF o'usf] vf]hL ò u0f]z l3ld/] (^
18. d[To' cg'go ò uf]kfn ‘lzv/’ /]UdL !)@
19. zflGt ò uf]kLs[i0f sfˆn] !)^
20. hLjg uLt ò uf]jw{g k"hf !!@
21. lkmtL{ l6s6 ò uf]ljGb lu/L k|]/0ff !!^
22. cl:tTj ò uLtf vqL !@$
23. b'O{ 5f]6f sljtf ò uLtf kGy !@*
24. xªsª ;x/ Û ò rGb| dfb]g ‘cfG5g\’ !#@
25. xfdL ef/L af]ls /x]5f}F ò hut gjf]lbt !#*
26. /ut pQ/ cfw'lgs ò 8f= hoGt s[i0f zdf{ !$$
27. ad k8\s]sf] dlGb/ ò hoGt ;f]sn !%)
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14 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Content
1. A Human waddling in Sacrifice ... ● Agyan Tharch (Bipin Khadka) 23
2. Against Love ● Anamol Mani 27
3. A Faint Reminiscence ● Ashok Chamling Rai 33
4. Mother's Request ● Ashraya Rabi 39
5. Me and Routines of an Employee ● Innocent Rajan Basnet 43
6. Don't Talk about Your Name, Brother ● Rishi Bastakoti 47
7. My Identity ● Kapil Adhikari 51
8. Me in search of Peaceful Nepal ● Kamala Prasain 55
9. Work, Heat of Korea and … ● Kalpana Rai 'Khusi' 59
10. Ms. Anonymous ● Kalpana Subedi 65
11. This House is Crumbling for Sure ● Kangmang Naresh Rai 67
12. My Obligations ● Kushal Dhital 73
13. The New Ghale ● Kusum Gyawali 75
14. The Palace of Joy ● Krishna Paksha 81
15. In Memory of the Nation ● Khadga Neupane 87
16. Home and Abroad ● Ganesh Khadka 91
17. In Search of a New Era ● Ganesh Ghimire 97
18. A Plea for Death ● Gopal ‘Sikhar’ Regmi 103
19. Peace ● Gopi Krishna Kaphle 107
20. Song of Life ● Gobardhan Pooja 113
21. The Return Ticket ● Govinda Giri Prerana 117
22. Existence ● Geeta Khatri 125
23. Two Short Poems ● Geeta Panth 129
24. The City of Hong Kong ● Chandra Maden ‘Aanchhan’ 133
25. We are Bearing Loads ● Jagat Navodit 139
26. Blood: Post Modernism ● Dr. Jayanta Krishna Sharma 145
27. Temple Where Bomb Blasts ● Jayanta Sokal 151
28. Let’s introduce Nepal to the World ● Janaki Gurung 155
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 15
web source:www.khasskhass.com 29. qf;df lhGbuL ò hfg' sfDafª lnª\\b]g !^)
30. rf]6 ò Hof]lt s]= >]i7 !^$
31. d[To'kqsf] td;'s ò 6+s jg]d !^*
32. lhGbuL ò ltns e§/fO{ ‘cGhfg’ !&^
33. d]/L cfdfsf] lghL{j tl:a/ ò tLy{/fh a/fn -;fg' k'gf6f/]_ !&*
34. bfh' ;lxb, efph" k/b]zL ò tLy{ ;ª\ud /fO{ !*$
35. u0ftGq / xfdL ò bnjL/ l;+x a/fOnL ‘3fon’ !()
36. 9Ng] 5}g d]/f] ;+:s[lt / klxrfg ò bofs[i0f /fO{ !(*
37. cf] Û ;fyL ò lbnb'vL hGt/] @)@
38. xªsª ;x/ ò bLkf PjfO{ /fO{ @)*
39. gf]:6fnlhofdf efO6Lsf ò bLkf /fO{ k'g @!@
40. lg/Gt/ o'4 ò bLkf lnDa' /fO{ @!^
41. d t e"t eP5' ò b'ZoGt e6\6/fO{ @!*
42. kz'sf] O{Zj/ ò b]z ;'Aaf @@$
43. ;u/dfyf ò gd|tf u'/fufO{+ @@*
44. zf;s / l;dfgf ò g/]z ;'g'jf/ @#@
45. ags/ aª\s/df ;'t] ò gj/fh sfsL{ @#^
46. df5fk'R5«|] ò gf/fo0f clwsf/L @$)
47. …afÚsf] Od]n ò lgik|e ;hL @$^
48. xf] o;/L g} hLjg latfOG5 === ò lg/fhg ‘k|eft’ @%)
49. jgjf; ò lgnd sfsL{ lgxfl/sf @%^
50. d"No ò kbd u'/fufO{+ @^@
51. v'n eg]]F v'Nof} ltdL ò kbd ljZjsdf{ @^$
52. kl/jt{g ò k'?iff]Qd 9sfn @^^
53. v} sxfF 5 d]/f] cl:tTj < ò k"l0f{df zfx @&)
54. ltdL clxn]–ltdL clxn] ò k|sfz g]kfn @&^
55. d}n] ef]u]sf] sf]l/of ò k|ult /fO{ @*)
56. kf;kf]6{ ò k|]d ;+u|f}nf @*$
57. pd]/ a]r]/ ;kgf pdfb}{ ò eujtL a:g]t @**
58. pd]/ g 5 Û ò eLd;]g ;fksf]6f @(@
59. Kof/f] df6f] ò ddtf sdf{rfo{ @(^
60. cg'xf/ x/fPsf] jt{dfg === ò 8f= dw' dfw'o{ #))
61. lz/k'mn h:tf] h'g === ò dg' nf]xf]?ª /fO{ #)*
62. ofb ò dl0f afª\b]n ‘;fu/’ #!$
63. o'4df hfg'cl3 ò ldhf; t]Da] #@)
64. cfdf ò d'lQm uf}td #@$
65. d}n] 5f]8]sf] 3/ b]z ò d'gf l;Ub]n #@*
16 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf 29. Life in Fear ● Janu Kambang Ligden 161
30. The Pain ● Jyoti K. Shrestha 165
31. The Bond Paper of Death ● Tanka Wanem 169
32. Life ● Tilak Bhattarai ‘Anjan’ 177
33. My Mother’s Lifeless Picture ● Tirtha Raj Baral (Sanu Punatare) 179
34. Brother is a Martyr- . . . ● Tirth Sangam Rai 185
35. Republicanism and We ● Dalbir Singh Baraili 'Ghayal' 191
36. My Culture and Identity will not Fall ● Daya Krishna Rai 199
37. Oh! Friend ● Dildukhi Jantare 203
38. Hong Kong City ● Deepa Ewai Rai 209
39. Bhai Tika on Nostalgia ● Deepa Rai Pun 213
40. Constant Wars ● Deepa Limbu Rai 217
41. I Became a Phantom ● Dushyanta Bhattarai 219
42. The God of Animals ● Desh Subba 225
43. Mt. Everest ● Namrata Guragain 229
44. The Ruler and the Boundary ● Naresh Sunuwar 233
45. The wild Slept in Bunkers ● Nabaraj Karki 237
46. Machhapuchhre ● Narayan Adhikary 241
47. An email from a Father ● Nishprabh Saji 247
48. Yes, This is How We Live Abroad ● Nirajan ‘Prabhat’ 251
49. Exile ● Neelam Karki Niharika 257
50. Price ● Padam Guragain 263
51. I Wished You Opened … ● Padam Bishwakarma 265
52. Change ● Purushottam Dhakal 267
53. Where is My Existence? ● Purnima Shah 271
54. You at Present ● Prakash Nepal 277
55. My Experiences from Korea ● Pragati Rai 281
56. Passport ● Prem Sangraula 285
57. Selling Life, Nourishing Dreams ● Bhagawati Basnet 289
58. Actually, He Didn’t Die ● Bhimsen Sapkota 293
59. Dear Soil ● Mamata Karmacharya 297
60. The Faceless Present, You and I ● Dr. Madhu Madhurya 301
61. The Sirphul-like Moon and ... ● Manu Lohorung Rai 309
62. Memory ● Mani Bandel 'Sagar' 315
63. Before Going to War ● Mijas Tembe 321
64. Mother ● Mukti Gautam 325
65. The Home I Left Behind ● Muna Sigdel 329
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 17 66. P Û kf]6f]Dofs Û ò df]xg l;6f}nf ##@
67. olb d kmls{PF eg] ò /If /fO{ ##*
68. P]gf ò /hgL >]i7 #$@
69. cxª\sf/ leqsf] …Osf/;Ú ò /d]z yfkf #$^
70. :jLsf/ ò /fhg /fO{ #$*
71. lau AofË ò /fhLj g]kfn ‘c6\jf’ #%@
72. b]z b'Vtf dgel/ ò /fh]Gb| k|;fb k|;fO{+ #%*
73. cfˆg} b]z kmsL{ hfFbf=== ò /fh]Gb| >]i7 #^@
74. afs; ò /fd s'j“/ #^$
75. b]z b'v]sf] a]nf ò /fdxl/ kf}8\ofn #^*
76. kLkn / sndL sljtf ò ¿k /;fOnL ljZjsdf{ #&$
77. d abNg rfxG5' === ò /f]lx0fL z'qm #&*
78. cfF6 ò nId0f Gof}kfg] /fdfg'h #*@
79. cfO8Lsf] kf;f] ò jh| s'df/ y'n'ª /fO{ #*^
80. af}nfpg' klg a]; x'G5 ò jGbgf uf}td #(@
81. b]z ò j;Gt >]i7 #(*
82. bDesf] lsNnfdf pleP/ ò jf;' zdf{ $)@
83. lar/f sf7df8fF} ò jf;' >]i7 $!)
84. k/b]zL efO ò ljgf]b v8\sf $!^
85. cg'/f]w ò ljgf]b Gof}kfg] $@)
86. b]z ckx/0fdf k/]kl5 ò ljZjf; bLk ltu]nf $@^
87. k/b]zdf d]/f] b]z ò zld{nf kf]v/]n $#)
88. O{Zj/ / dfG5] ò lzj k|sfz $#@
89. oL pkdfx¿ c:jLsfo{ 5g\ === ò ;d/ r]dhf]ª ‘cfef;’ $#$
90. cfdfsf] k'sf/ ò ;df >L $#*
91. 8f]a Û ò ;Ldf /f];L $$@
92. sf];]nL ò ;'bLkeb| vgfn $$^
93. pgn] s;/L a'l´g\ ò ;'n]vf e08f/L $%)
94. 8fo:kf]/f ò xl/ l3ld/] $%$
95. :jb]zsf] ;Demgf ò xl/ kf}8]n $%*
96. ?v ò xfª\o'u c1ft $^$
97. lraf]ssf s]6Lx? ò lxSdt yfkf $^*
98. cFWof/f] ;fd|fHosf] lzv/af6 ò x]dGt >]i7 $&@
99. s] 5 oxfF Û ò xf]dgfy ;'j]bL $&*
18 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com 66. Oh ! Potomac ! ● Mohan Sitoula 331
67. Lest I return ● Raksha Rai 339
68. A Mirror ● Rajani Shrestha 343
69. The Icarus Buried in Vanity ● Ramesh Thapa 347
70. Acceptance ● Rajan Rai 349
71. Big Bang ● Rajiv Nepal ‘Atwa’ 353
72. The Pain of Country ... ● Rajendra Prasad Prasain 359
73. On Returning My Homeland ● Rajendra Shrestha 363
74. A Casket ● Ram Kunwar 365
75. When the Country is in Pain ● Ramhari Paudyal 369
76. The Peepal tree and Grafted Poetry ● Rup Rasaili Biswakarma 375
77. I Want to Change .. . ● Rohini Sukra 379
78. Dare ● Laxman Neupane Ramanuj 383
79. The Snare of ID ● Bajra Kumar Thulung Rai 387
80. It’s also Better to Go Insane ● Bandana Gautam 393
81. The Nation ● Basanta Shrestha 399
82. Standing on the Fort of Vanity ● Basu Sharma 403
83. Poor Kathmandu ! ● Basu Shrestha 411
84. Brother Outlander ● Binod Khadka 417
85. An Appeal ● Binod Neupane 421
86. After the Nation was in Abduction ● Bishwas Deep Tigela 427
87. My Country in the Alien Country ● Sharmila Pokhrel 431
88. Providence and Human ● Shiva Prakash 433
89. These Symbols are not Acceptable ... ● Samar Chemjong ‘Avas’ 435
90. Mother's Prayer ● Sama Shree 439
91. Mark ● Seema Rosi 443
92. Souvenir ● Sudeep Bhadra Khanal 447
93. How did She Know ? ● Sulekha Bhandari 451
94. Diaspora ● Hari Ghimire 455
95. Memory of the Motherland ● Hari Paudel 459
96. Tree ● Hangyug Agyat 465
97. Girls of Chibouk ● Hikmat Thapa 469
98. From the Peak of Dark Empire ● Hemanta Shrestha 473
99. What's There! ● Homnath Subedi 479
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 19 20 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Poems of the Nepali Diaspora
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 21 hLjg lhpg] alnj]bLdf x]lnPsf] dfG5] ■ c1fg yfr{ -ljlkg v8\sf_ hLjg lhpg] alnj]bLdf x]lnPsf] Pp6f dfG5] cefj} cefj larsf] s73/fdf plePsf] Pp6f dfG5] ;DkGgtfsf] vf]hLdf ef}tfl/Fbf, ef}tfl/Fb} cgj/t ofqfx¿ rnfO /x]sf] 5 . ;'vfGtsf] kbf{ kbfk{0fsf] kvf{Odf l7ª\u plePsf] Pp6f dfG5] . hLjg lhpg] gfddf cfkmGtx¿sf] k/fO eP5 gDa/L ;'g aGg] nfn;fdf hLjgsf] s;f}6Ldf w]/} k6s 3f]l6Psf] 5 . t/, kmut, ;a} a]sf/ ;flat eP5g\ km]l/ csf]{ 3f]6fOsf] k|tLIffdf 7l8Psf] Pp6f dfG5] . cGtdf, hLjg lhpg] alnj]bLdf x]lnFbf x]lnFb} pmleqsf] kqkqdf lvof nflu ;s]5 e'n sxfF eof] <
22 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com A Human waddling in Sacrifice – Altar to Live a Life ■ Agyan Tharch (Bipin Khadka)
A human being Waddling in sacrifice-alter to live a life. A human being Standing in witness-stand amid scarcities. Loitering hither and thither in search of prosperity He is continuing journeys non-stop. Waiting the arrival of happiness A human rising to an erect position. Stranger he has grown to his relatives In the name of living a life Many times he has rubbed himself In the touchstone of life In an ambition to be a pure gold But everything has been proven worthless Waiting again in the erect position for another rubbing. Finally, while wadding in sacrifice-altar to live a life Every layer within him has rotted away. Where is is mistake ? What is infirmity Towards this society that teaches art for living ? No court could make him win In the case of living a life
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 23 uNtL sxfF eof] < jf lhpg] snf l;sfpg] of] ;dfhk|lt < lhtfpg ;s]g s'g} Gofofnon] hLjg lhpg] d'4fdf k|Zgx¿ t]:of{pFb} 5 . cfk"mn] cfkm}nfO{ s] e'n eof] < l;Sg]sf] ls l;sfpg]sf] < ca t, a;f}{+b]lvsf] pTkL8gn] lvof nfu]sf] 7fpFaf6 kqkq pKsFb} 5 . afFsL 5 t s]jn cfzf / e/f];fsf] w/f]x/ 9Ng, ToxL k|tLIffdf x]lNnFb} u/]sf] Pp6f dfG5] . cfh km]l/ d]/f] k];L r9]sf] 5 . cfk"m afFr / afFRg gb]pmsf] d'Vo Gofofnodf hxfF ;antfsf] kf7 k9fpg], ;DkGgtfsf] vf]nleq, vf]qmf] cf8Da/sf] nFuf}6L nufpg] chLj GofofwLzsf] s73/fdf hLjg lhpg} g;Sg], cleo'Qm e} ;kmfOsf nflu ofrgf ul/ /x]sf], Pp6f dfG5] .
afun'ª xfn M kf]r{'un
24 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf He is putting problematic questions to himself What is the mistake ? Is it of the learner or of the teacher ? As a result of years-long subjugation, Layers are coming off from the rotten spot. Only the monument of hope is left to crumble Expecting the same a human waddling. Today again there is hearing of my law-suit I am in the high court that believes in 'You live and don't let others live' In the witness-stand of an awkward magistrate Who teaches the lesson of competence And in the cover of prosperity He wears the loincloth of snobbery. Unable to live a life The accused – human Importuning for a clean cheat.
- Baglung At present : Portugal
Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 25 k|]d lj?4 ■ cgdf]n dl0f
89]sf sª\sfnx¿ dfq e]l6of] ;fFemdf ux el/Psf cfFvf ;Dxfn]/ k|]dLx¿ k|Zg ul/ /x]5g\ 5]pdf– …pm lxGb', O;fO{, d';ndfg s]xL xf]Og ;To w/f]wd{,pm ;b:o xf]Og s'g} kf6L{sf] ca eg, s'g xf] d]/f] k|]dLsf] nf; <Ú ljBfnoaf6 kmls{Fb} u/]sf] Pp6f s]6f] /f]s]/ u'?nfO{ elg /x]5– …;/, sxLF gk8\lsof];\ ad / af?bL ;'?ª s;}n] grnfcf];\ e?jf aGb's lvof nfu]sf] k]:tf]n / e'Q] t/af/ d]/f cfkmGt kms]{sf 5}gg\ of] emDs] ;fFem;Dd d]nfkft / 3fF; bfp/faf6 / d}n] k'/f ug'{ 5 cfhsf] u[xsfo{,
;fFemdf ;]G6«L a;]sf] ;'/IffsdL{ k6sk6s x]b}{ htg;fy /fV5 k|]ldsfsf] tl:a/
26 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Against Love ■ Anamol Mani
Merely the burnt skeletons were found in the evening Controlling brimful teary eyes, Lovers are enquiring on the side – "He was neither Hindu nor Christian nor Muslim I make a vow he was not A member of any political party either Now let me know which my lover’s corpse is."
A boy returning home from school Interrupts his teacher and verbalizes – "Sir, I wish Nowhere would blast bomb and gun-powder-filled trench My wish nobody would trigger would the shells-laden hand-gun, Rotten pistol and nobody operate the blunt sword My relatives haven't returned home till dark evening From farm and collecting grass and firewood I must complete today's homework."
In the evening A security guard on duty Looks upon his beloved's photograph a number of times And safely keeps it
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 27 kfOG6sf] k5fl8 vNtLdf hxfF 5 3/ k7fpg afFsL p;n] ev{/} lnPsf] kl5Nnf] dlxgfsf] tna p;nfO{ yfxf 5 zflGt ;Demf}tfeGbf bgbgfP/ cfpg] uf]nLsf] tfst a9L x'G5 To;n] kmSn]6f] kf/]/ p8fpg ;S5 k|]ldsfsf] ;Demgf / cfˆgf] a'l4 Ps} 7fpF el/Psf] 6fpsf],
;x/df ad k8\s]s} ;fFemb]lv ePsf] 5 nf]8;]l8ª r'sh:tf] cFWof/f]df dgdg} u'lg /x]5 of}6f cNnf/] k|]dL ufpFsL k|]ldsf / ul/ /x]5 sfdgf Od]ndf ;Demgf k7fpg] u/L l56\6} k'uf];\ lah'nL p;sf] ufpFdf hf] k7fO /xG5] p;nfO{ l8laofsf] lwklwk] pHofnf]df n]v]sf] s]/d]6 cIf/sf] WjfF;] k|]dkq, o;} u/L ;a} hgf u'gu'gfO /x]5g\ k]|dsf] uLt / ul/ /x]5g\ k|fy{gf– ca gxf];\ k[YjLsf] efuaG8f j0f{ ;Dk|bfosf]] efuaG8f / cfˆg} df6f]sf] efuaG8f, nTofP/ ;f/fsf ;f/f k|]dsf] k|fy{gf hyfefjL rln /x]5 aGb's, lvof nfu]sf] k]:tf]n / e'Q] t/af/ nflu /x]5 sˆo'{ k8\ls /x]5 NofG8dfOG8 / af?b
28 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf In the back pocket of his pant Where there lies the wad of the salary Of the last month That he hasn't dispatched home yet He knows very well The strength of the firing bullet is Far more powerful than the peace accord It might break into piece and winnow His beloved's reminiscence And his all-wisdom-accumulated head.
There is a load shedding in the city Since the evening of the last bomb-blast An immature lover is silently recalling His rural beloved and he wishes The electricity reaches to his village at the soonest And he can send his lovely reminiscence in email She is still sending him The smoky love letter in illegible handwriting Written in the flickering light of kerosene-lamp.
Everybody, in the similar fashion, is Humming the song of love And piously praying – No more share distribution of the earth No more share distribution of complexion and community And no more share distribution of their soil.
Ignoring all those prayers of love Haphazardly there are moving Gun, rotten pistol and blunt sword Curfew is clamped Landmine and gunpowder are fired
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 29 dl/ /x]5g\ lgbf]{if dfG5] / eO /x]5 cfk"m plePsf] hldgsf] efuaG8f, k|]d lj?4 uf]na4 / ck|fs[lts x'Fb} 5g\ dfG5]x¿ la:tf/} .
Sofg8f
30 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Innocent humans are being killed And share distribution is going on Of the land where they are standing on, Against love gradually human beings are Getting united and growing unnatural.
Canada
Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 31 wldnf] ;Demgf ■ czf]s rflDnª /fO{ cfh km]l/ p;n] lgsfNof] s[k]6 Aofuaf6 5f]/Lsf] ZofdZj]t tl:a/ / cfFvfel/ ;lDemof] Tof] k'/fgf] ctLt . p;n] ;lDemof] slxn] ;fIffTsf/ geO{ p;nfO{ 5f]l8 hfg] p;sL lbjª\ut 5f]/L csf]{+ 3/ a;fpg] Tof] 5f]/LsL cfdf g'g af]Sg df]/ª em/]sf lbg nx} nx}df 5ftL gfKg uPsf] ;do etL{ x'g klv{{Psf] kn nfx'/] ePkl5sf lj:dosf/L cGt/fn a]va/ lyof] ;do o'4df lyof] z/L/ /x]g s]xL afFsL
32 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf A Faint Reminiscence ■ Ashok Chamling Rai
Today again he took out From his hand bag Black and white photograph of the daughter And remembered in his fulsome eyes The old bygone days.
He nostalgically remembered His already-expired daughter Whom he never saw in person Also remembered the same daughter's mother Who joined another wedlock Moreover recalled the day he got down Morang To carry a load of salt on his back Also remembered in excitement, the moment He had gone to get his chest measured The moment he had waited To get recruited in army. The mysterious span of time after he became lahure the soldier.
He had no idea of tangible time Body was wholly involved in war
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 33 kfFr j;Gtd} 6'6\of] 3/ 5'6\of] lk/tL la/fgf] eof] cfFvfel/ ;hfPsf gf}/ª\uL ;kgf . t/ ;/fk]g p;n] 3/hd ug]{ pgLnfO{ p7fPg …hf/LÚ klg l/; u/]g gkv{g] dfofn'nfO{ ;fob dgg u¥of] xf]nf g'g af]Sg uPsf] a]va/ nf]Ug]sf] kvf{O ;f]Rof] xf]nf ;fdn kfgLsf] cefj a'lem lbof] ;fob p;sf] hjfgL . dg afFWg / hLjg rnfpg …hf/LÚ u¥of] p;n] klg s;}nfO{ kms]{g kN6g km]l/ efl;of] cs}{ d'unfg To;kl5 aGof] cs}{ cWofo hLjgsf] laTof] krkGg jif{ sl/a . ca t ;a} s'/f p;sf] pd]/ / cfFvf h:t} s]jn wldnf] ag]sf] 5 ;Demgf hLjgsf] pQ/fw{df / Pp6} k|Zg 5 dgdf
34 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Nothing remained secure Within five springs Conjugal life broke off Love ended A kaleidoscope of dreams Decorated in eyes grew dim.
But he never cursed His unfaithful wife who set up another conjugal life Neither had he claimed for compensation from her new husband Nor expressed fury Upon his beloved who no more waited for him Perhaps he relisted agony of a wife Who fruitlessly waits for her out-of-contact husband Gone to carry the load of salt Perhaps imagined Scarcity of foodstuff Perhaps understood her impelling youthfulness.
In order to control himself and run his life He too married someone else's wife Never returned to the regiment again Fell in the quicksand of another foreign land Another chapter of life came into existence Around fifty-five years passed.
Everything including reminiscence Has grown caliginous like his age and eyes In the late part of his life Only a question wriggles in heart 'How was the daughter?’ Every teardrop renders has image mone blurredrous
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 35 s:tL lyO{ xf]nf Tof] 5f]/L < k|To]s k6s em/]sf cfF;'n] cem wldNofpF5 tl:a/ kl5lNt/ n]v]sf] s;}n] æ;fOFnf, 5f]/Lsf] ofb cfP oxL tl:a/ x]/]/ lrQ a'emfpg" .Æ
cd]l/sf
36 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The line written by someone Behind the photograph: "Sahila !1 Do see this photograph And satisfy yourself The moment you recall your daughter's image."
America
1. The third one among male siblings
Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 37 cfdfsf] cfu|x ■ cf>o /lj b;sf}F laTof] ltdL k/b]l;Psf] ;kgfx¿– ;kgfd} s}b eP === b[Zo– hf] qmdzM w'ldn x'Fb} uO /x]5 5f]/f Û ltdL b]z kms{ Û Û k|tLIff/t l;Gb"/, kmn, af6f] / b]p/fnL clg gfgLx¿sf cfFvf === hf] h'g pbfpFbf /dfpF5g\ clg tdf]/ ;';fpFbf ?G5g\ s;}n] afF;'/L km'Sbf of uLt ufpFbf ltdLnfO{ ;DemG5g\ / atf;n] ;':t/L b}nf] vf]Nbf ltdL cfof} ls eg]/ em'lSsG5g\ 5f]/f Û ltdL b]z kms{ ÛÛ lkm5'{ eGYof} ltdL h'gtf/f a6'n]/ NofpF5' eGYof} ltdLnfO{ klv{/x]sf] ltd|f] :jKgsf]
38 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Mother's Request ■ Ashraya Rabi
Decades gone After you set off abroad Dreams remained just dreams Sight – that is gradually growing murkier Son! Do return to your homeland!! Those awaiting sindur1 fruit, rural path and deurali2. And children's eyes… Those celebrate the rising moon And weep the moment the Tamor3 sizzles They remember you The moment somebody plays the flute Or sings a song When wind silently opens the door They mistakenly think you have opened it Dear son! Do return to your homeland!! You had given us a word to return And bring home the moon and the stars The immense building of your dream That had been waiting for you dismantled. Don't be cruel like birkhe4 And the eldest brother They never returned despite their promise Dear son! Do return to your homeland.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 39 eJo 3/– 9ln ;Sof] . lkm5'{ egL uP/ k]ml/ gkmls{g] lgi7'/L lav]{ h:tf] h]7f bfO h:tf] lgi7'/L gag 5f]/f Û ltdL b]z kms{ . ltdL k/b]l;Pkl5 afFlemP klg u}x|Lv]t aufP klg tdf]/n] lx6L kfFrd'/] k/] klg klx/f]n] ;fsL{af/L, ;fem]af/L elTsPsf] 5}g ltdLk|ltsf] ufpFsf] ljZjf; cfFug 5]paf6 au]sf] s'nf] / xfd|f] cfFvfaf6 x/]s kn r'x'g] cfF;'nfO{ ;Dem]/ 5f]/f Û ltdL b]z kms{ . 3/d'lgsf] nfdkft] ?Fbf sf]OnL 3/k/sf] l;dndf s/fpFbf sfu ctflnG5g\ cfkm}nfO{ x]/]/ st}– EofpFlbg ls lrgfpg– ltdLn] v]Ng] ef]lnsf] af6f] ;lSbg ls b]vfpg– d'6'sf] k|To]s wdgL eP/ aUg] /utsf] dfofF kfpFlbg ls afFlw lbg– ltd|f] lz/df of] df6f] / ;Eotfsf] ku/L To;}n], cfFwL, em/L cl;gf / v8]/L cfpg' cl3 g} 3fd eP/ 5f]/f Û ltdL b]z kms{ ÛÛ
dn]l;of
40 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf After you went abroad Though gairikhet5 has turned barren Though the Tamor3 has swept away hiti panchmure Though flood inundated sarkibari, sajhebari The faith of village upon you hasn't demolished.
Remembering the canal flowed by the courtyard And tear dropped every time from our eyes Dear son! Do return to your homeland.
The moment a cuckoo moans On the lampate6 tree beneath the house And crow caws on the seemal tree A little farther from home They get startled to see themselves I might not succeed to make you know- The path of tomorrow on which you play I might not succeed to show - Love of blood that flows through Every artery of heart I might not succeed to offer on year head The shawl of soil and civilization So, in the form of resplendent sun Prior to arrival of storm, Rainfall, hailstone and drought Dear son! Do return to your homeland. Malesia
1. Vermillion powder worn by married Nepali women on the parting of their head 2. A mound-like place where travelers offer pieces of stone or leaves of plants to honor image of gods and goddesses 3. One of the seven tributaries of Saptakoshi, the biggest river in Nepal 4. A common male proper noun used in the remote hills of Nepal 5. A kind of paddy field located on the low area of the hills 6. A kind of straight tree found in the hills and its trunk is used to make a tom-tom.
— Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 41
web source:www.khasskhass.com d / hf–lu/] b}lgsLx¿ ■ OGgf];]G6 /fhg ‘a:g]t’ km]l/ aHof], cefjsf] l;/fgLd'lg– d[To'sf] ;fO/g ÛÛ s:d]l6s lhGbuL vf]Hb} ‰ofnsf a'6\6] kbf{ :Sofg u/]/ km'Q l55{– Pp6f gj o'js 3fd / ;'? x'G5 d]/f] hf–lu/] b}lgsL ÛÛ dfgf}F, clkm;–d'bf{3/ xf] ÛÛ skmLsf] klxnf] r':sL– ljkmn of]hgf ÛÛ a|fG8]8 l;u/]6sf] d':nf]– k'/fg} lhGbuL ÛÛ / oL cw'/f kmfonx¿– d}n] dnfO{ g} a]r]sf gub] ef}r/x¿ x'g\ ÛÛ oBlk– d}n] agfpg' 5– lhGbuLnfO{ lhGbuL h:tf] ÛÛ /, x'g' 5 ;fd]n– 6]Sgf]nf]lhs ;Gtfgsf gofF ;kgfx¿df ÛÛ
42 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Me and Routines of an Employee ■ Innocent Rajan Basnet
Once again went off Under the pillow of scarcity- the siren of death!!!
Looking for cosmetic life Scanning the pied curtains of windows Instantly enters- a youth sun And begins routines of my employment!!!
Suppose, office is the crematorium The first sip of coffee- a failed plan!! Fume of branded cigarette- the same old life!! And these incomplete files cash vouchers That I have filled to sell myself!!!
Nevertheless- I should construct this life like a real life!! And involve in New dreams of technologic descendents!! Washing away sleepiness of eyes And obstructing speed of life in the belly!!
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 43 cfFvfsf lgbx¿ kvfn]/, k]6df hLjgsf] ult /f]s]/ ÛÛ d, lhDd]jf/ JolQm x'F– /x/ / afWotfsf] ha;Dd leQfdf nGr ;fO/g aHb}g, ta;Dd dflnsn] ckm ub}{g l;;L Sofd]/f gfkmf– gf]S;fgsf] cfFvfdf ÛÛ ljlgdo / n]gb]gsf]– ;Demf}tfdf ÛÛ Pjd\ /Ltn]=== To;} u/L=== 3f]if0ff u5{ clGtd ;fO/gn]– clkm; cGTo]li6sf] / nlDsG5g\ kfOnf :juf{g'e"ltsf af6flt/ ÛÛ pxL sf]7f– pxL 3/ 5l/Psf 5g\ 6]anel/– 8]6 PS;kfo/ ;kgfx¿ leQfdf 6fFluPsf] 5 Pp6f– b]z / b]zd'lg em'G8\ofOPsf 5g\– d'6' ;~rfngsf SofK;'nx¿ ÛÛ km]l/ cfh, lgbsf] csf]{ SofK;'n 36\5 lsgls oxL l;/fgLd'lg aH5– d[To'sf] ;fO/g / ;'? x'G5g\ ef]lnsf b}lgsLx¿ ÛÛ
lzj;tfIfL g=kf=, emfkf xfn M stf/
44 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Me, a responsible person- of wish and obligation Unless lunch siren goes off on wall My boss doesn't switch the CCTV camera off In the eyes of loss and profit!! In the agreement of exchange; and give and take.
By the same token The last siren announces- office duty over And footsteps go ahead Towards the path of exhilaration!!
The same room- the same house Scattered all over this table- date-expired dreams On the wall there is hung- a nation And beneath the nation are hung- heart operating capsules!!
Again today, Another sleeping tablet reduces Because, Under this pillow rings - the siren of death And begins the routines of tomorrow!!
Shiva Satakshi Municipaity, Jhapa At present : Qatar
Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 45 gfdsf s'/f gu/ efO ■ Clif a:tfsf]6L gfdsf s'/f gu/ efO ufd 5f]8]/ cfPkl5 la/fgf] 7fpFdf k'/fgf s'/fx¿ w]/} h;f] ;Gbe{ aflx/sf x'G5g\ …cfp6 8]6]8 cf}iflw h:t}Ú . ltdLn] oxfF cfˆgf afh] a/fh' la;{g' k5{, cfˆgf k'/fgf 9s t/fh' la;{g' k5{ . oxfF t cfˆgf] cfofd cfkm} agfpg' k5{, cfˆg} k|;j kL8fleqaf6 Psk6s cfkm}nfO{ hGdfpg' k5{ cfufsf nKsfx¿df xfn]/ cfkm}nfO{ Psrf]l6 cfˆgf] klxrfg lrgfpg' k5{ . gfdsf s'/f gu/ efO hGdg} gkfO{ gofF 7fpFdf, oxfF cfotg km'sfpg klg 8/fpg' k5{ –l;ª\u} ;8s PSn} 9fS5' ls eg]/, oxfF cfkm}nfO{ n'sfpg klg 8/fpg' k5{ –;w}Fe/ u'dgfd /fV5' ls eg]/ .
46 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Don't Talk about Your Name, Brother ■ Rishi Bastakoti
Don't talk about your name brother After you have come to an alien land, Leaving your village far behind Mostly old things are out of context Similar to the date-expired medicine.
You must forget here your predecessors And conventional measuring balances You must formulate your dimension yourself Once you must give birth to yourself Out of your own labor pain Once you must put yourself in fire flames In order to make people know your identity.
Don't talk about your name brother Prior to your birth in this new place You should have fear to expand your volume Thinking that you might cover the whole road alone You should have fear to hide yourself Thinking that you might keep yourself Hole-and-corner forever.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 47
web source:www.khasskhass.com z/L/ gfk]/ sk8f sf6\g] 7fpFaf6 cfPsf] ltdL ;w}F To:tf] sxfF x'G5 / efO < uf]nfw{sf] csf]{ 5]pdf cfO ;s]kl5 ltdLnfO{ laKNofF6f] nfu] klg slxn] sfxLF n'uf gfk]/ z/L/ agfpg hfGg' k5{, v';Ldf t xfF;]s} xf] lxhf] klg b'Mvdf klg kj{ dgfpg hfGg' k5{ . d a'‰5'– 3/L ltdLnfO{ ufpFdf wfg gkmn]sf] kL8fn] lk/f]n]sf] 5, 3/L, ;x/df ;+ljwfg g;lk|Psf] lrGtfn] lryf]/]sf] 5, / cem a9L l5gl5g}÷lbglbg} k/b]zdf klxrfg x/fPsf] ;'tf{n] ;tfPsf] 5 . t/ efO, oxfF df6f]sf] uGw leGb} 5, oxfF af6f]sf] /ª\u leGb} 5 ptf kLknsf] ?vdf a;]/ s/fpg] sfu otf d]knsf] ?vdf a;]/ s/fpF5 p;}u/L sfSs sfSs– ub}{ t/ p;n] Nofpg] ;Gb]z leGb} 5– æoxfF ltdLn] cfk"mn] cfkm}nfO{ hGdfpg' k5{, cfˆg} kf}/vn] hGdfpg' k5{ la/fgf] 7fpFdf k'/fgf s'/f u/]/ x'Gg sf]xL kl08t cfpFb}gg\ oxfF gfd h'/fpg ltd|f nflu oxfF t cfˆgf] 5}+7L cfkm} n]Vg' k5{ cfˆgf] Gjf/g cfkm} u/fpg' k5{ / cfˆgf] gfd cfkm} h'/fpg' k5{ .Æ Sofg8f
48 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf You have come from a place where There is custom of measuring body and cutting cloth It's not the same everywhere, brother The moment you arrive Another end of the hemisphere Though you find it exactly opposite You should know how to mould your body As per the measurement of cloth You have smiled in pleasure in the past But you should know the way to celebrate pain.
I can feel your agony very well Sometimes you are afflicted by Low product of paddy crops in the village Sometimes scratched by genuine worry The constitution hasn't grown healthy in this city Moreover, every moment/every day Agony of identity loss in foreign soil racks.
But brother The fragrance of soil is different here The color of path is different here The crow cawing in the peepal tree over there Caws in the maple tree over here The sound is the same in a origin But the message it carries is different- "You must give your birth here yourself You can't talk about old things in new place No priest comes to baptize you You have got to write your destiny yourself You have to christen yourself." Canada
Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 49 d]/f] kl/ro ■ slkn clwsf/L k/b]zdf d]/f] b]z ;f]W5g\– æg]kfnÆ eG5' efiff ;f]W5g\– æg]kfnLÆ eG5' hflt ;f]W5g\– æg]kfnLÆ eG5' . ljljw ;+:s[lt, efiff / wd{ t/fO{, kxf8, lxdfnsf] s'/f u5{' ;dy/, vf]+r / cUnf lxdfnosf] nlnt snfb]lv t]lGhª gf]u{];Dd n'lDagLb]lv uf];fOFyfg lqz"nL / s0ff{nL 5lQ; hftsf] k'mnaf/L . dnfO{ lrGb}gg\ oxfF t/ ;'Gb/ kxf8 lrG5g\ dlGb/} dlGb/sf] ;x/ / snfs[lt lrG5g\ 1fge"ld n'lDagL lrG5g\
50 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com My Identity ■ Kapli Adhikari
In a foreign land People enquire me about my nation's name 'Nepal' I respond They ask me my language 'Nepali' I say They further ask my community 'Nepali' I tell them.
I talk about diverse culture, language and religion Plain, gorge and snow-capped high mountains From fine art to Tenzing Norge From Lumbini to Gosaithan Trishuli and Karnali A colorful garden of thirty-six castes.
They don't recognize me here But fairly recognize beautiful hills City of temples and arts Knowledge-land of Lumbini Valorous Gorkha The roof of the world, Mount Everest
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 51 ;fx;L uf]vf{ ;+;f/sf] 5fgf, ‰ofdf]nf]ª\df g]kfn lrG5g\ v} t d]/f] kl/ro < d ;f]R5' cfh d h] 5' g]kfns} gftfn] 5' pgLx¿n] lrg]sf]leq d hf]l8Psf] 5' d]/f] kl/ro g]kfn d]/f] g]kfn . gtd:ts 5' pmk|lt h;n] of] ;'Gb/ g]kfn agfP dnfO{, xfdLnfO{ cfˆgf] kl/ro lbnfP .
tfOjfg
52 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf They know a lot about Nepal But what is my identity?
I ponder upon my existence What I am today It is all through Nepal I am connected to that what they have known My identity Nepal My dear Nepal.
I bow down my head with respect To those Founding Fathers of Nepal Who formulated our identity
Taiwan
Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 53 d zfGt g]kfnsf] vf]hLdf 5' ■ sdnf k|;fO{+ cfzfx¿ a]r]/ xf/]sf] uugl;t OR5fx¿ df/]/ r'Fl8Psf cfFvfx¿l;t slxn] /fte/ ofqfdf s'lb /x]sL x'G5' t slxn] lbge/ ofqfd} s'lb /x]sL x'G5', efjgfsf] nx/ g xf] slxn] d]/f] ofqfn] lxdfnr'nL gf3]sf] x'G5 t slxn] uª\ufsf] lsgf/nfO{ 5f]Psf] x'G5 . cfˆg}kg af]s]sf] lyof] lxhf] d]/f] b]zsf] Oltxf;n] cfˆg}kg af]s]sf] lyof] lxhf] d]/f] b]zsf] ;+:s[ltn] h;nfO{ d lsg cfh 5ftLleq n'sfO /fVGg rfxG5' h;nfO{ d lsg cfh klg cf]l9 /xg rfxG5' lsgls ToxfFleq Gofgf] zfGt clg ld7f] lgGb|f ;'t]sf] x'GYof] . uf}/j / ufyfsf cˆ7\of/fkgx¿ eP klg lxDdt / ;fx;sf ToxfF /ut / kl;gfsf yf]kfx¿ au]sf x'Gy] efjgfsf] s'Dn}–s'Dnf]leq eP klg ToxfF :jtGqkgx¿ af]s]sf x'Gy] . d oxfF h] ;DemG5' Tof] d]/f] b]zsf] x'G5 d cTofrf/sf] /]vfleq lrRofpg k'Ubf
54 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Me in search of Peaceful Nepal ■ Kamala Prasain
Selling my hopes with defeated firmament Killing my desires with plucked eyes, Sometimes I keep running, In a journey whole night long Other times I keep running In a journey whole day long.
It's just a wave of feeling Sometimes my journey crosses over mountain acme Other times it touches the bank of the Ganges.
History of my nation had originality in the past Culture of my nation had originality in the past Why do I like to preserve it lovingly In my bosom today, too? Why do I like to be covered with it today, too? Because warm, calm and sweet sleepiness Would soundly sleep in it.
Though difficulties of glory and hagiography resided Courage and drops of blood and sweat would flow there Though packs of feeling inside Freedom would freely move on.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 55
web source:www.khasskhass.com Tof] cTofrf/L klg d]/f] b]zs} x'G5, efjgfsf] nx/ g xf] slxn] d]/f] ofqfn] lxdfnr'nL gf3]sf] x'G5 t slxn] uª\ufsf] lsgf/nfO{ 5f]Psf] x'G5 . ljWj+zsf/L o; o'uleq klg r'krfk ;x]/ d}n] Pp6f ;[hgfsf] k'mn /f]Kg vf]lh /x]sL x'G5' afbn d8fl/P/ tF5f8 d5f8 u/L cfsfz g} wldNofPsf] a]nf klg d}n] r'krfk eP/ Pp6f h'gnfO{ l;p/g k'lu /x]sL x'G5' clg cfjfh} cfjfhsf] o; ahf/leq d}n] klg ;fx; u/]/ Pp6f zflGtsf] cfjfh 5f]8\g vf]lh /x]sL x'G5' s]jn dft[e"ldsf nflu . oxfF efjgfsf le8x¿df efjgfsf ljb|f]xL ayfg efn]x¿ klg p7]sf xf]nfg\ oxfF efjgfsf le8x¿df efjgfsf ljb|f]xL ayfg kf]yLx¿ klg p7]sf xf]nfg\ ltgLx¿;Fu d cfk"m klg pl7 /x]sL x'G5' / r'krfk ;x]/ d d]/f] ofqfdf bu'l/ /x]sL x'G5' lsgls efjgfsf] nx/ g xf] slxn] d]/f] ofqfn] lxdfnr'nL gf3]sf] x'G5 t slxn] uª\ufsf] lsgf/nfO{ 5f]Psf] x'G5 . clg cguGtL c;ª\Vo ljikmf]6gx¿ 6fpsf]df af]s]/ d d]/f] ofqfdf ofqfdUg 5' d d]/f] ofqfdf km]l/ zfGt g]kfnnfO{ kfpg rfxG5' d d]/f] ofqfdf zfGt g]kfn vf]lh /x]5' .
cd]l/sf
56 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Whatever I remember here that is of my nation The moment I shout Within the periphery of injustice The injustice-practitioner is from my nation, too It's just a wave of feeling Sometimes my journey crosses over mountain acme Other times it touches the bank of the Ganges. Keeping mum inside this ruinous age I am thinking of planting a flower of creation Even at the moment the clouds Unfairly drift across to win each other And make the firmament troubled I silently thrust a moon on the lock of my hair And in the marketplace of voices Dauntlessly I am trying to project a voice of peace Only for my motherland.
Here in the Crowd of feelings A rebel group males of feeling might have risen Here in the crowd of feelings A rebel group of females of feeling might have risen I am rising together with them, too Enduring silently I am running in my journey Because it's just a wave of feeling Sometimes my journey crosses over mountain acme Other times touches the bank of the Ganges.
Carrying innumerable explosions on head I am immersed in my journey I again wish to receive peaceful Nepal in my journey I am looking for a peaceful Nepal in my journey. America
— Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 57 sfd, sf]l/ofsf] udL{ /=== ■ sNkgf /fO{ ‘v';L’ pkm\ Û s] ;f/f] udL{ < a;f}{+ lat] o;/L g} / of] jif{ klg lalt /x]5 leQfdf 6fFluPsf] 38Lsf] ;'O{sf] tfndf l6s=== l6s=== l6s=== Pp6f gfafnsnfO{ dft[Tjsf] cg'e"lt u/fP h;/L chª\usf 8/nfUbf d]l;gx¿nfO{ lbgel/ cfˆg} sf]dn xftx¿n] rnfpFb} v]nfpFb} laT5 d]l;g;Fusf] kf}F7]hf]/L=== d klg afgL k/]5', ltg}sf 3N6\ofª 3N6\ofª cfjfhx¿;Fu 8fª8fª / 8'ªu8'ª g} s0f{lk|o uLt ag]5g\ ltg} k|f0flk|o d]l;gx¿;Fu ;fFem ha labf x'G5 ltg}sf] lz/dfly /x]sf] l6gsf] 5fgf]df lgbfpg] k|of; u5{' clg e'Ng] k|of; u5{' tgsf] ysfg=== l;/fgLdf ha 6fpsf] /fV5' ltgs} a];'l/nf uLtx¿n] af]nfO /x]sf] cfef; x'G5 nfU5 a;f}{+ cl3 la5f]l8Psf] k|]dLn] af]nfO /x]5
58 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Work, Heat of Korea and … ■ Kalpana Rai 'Khusi'
Oh my goodness! How hot? Years passed this way and this year also passing In the pace of the clock hung on the wall In the same way An infant is made to feel motherhood Touching and playing with tender hands To a ferocious machine, the whole day passes A combat with the machine… I am accustomed to their jolting sounds Those sounds become my sonorous songs When evening says 'good bye' to those lovely machines I try to sleep under the zinc-sheet-roof Over those machines And attempt to forget bodily exhaustion… The moment I place my head on the pillow I feel as though Those machines' excruciating songs are calling me. As if years-back-departed lover is calling me Constantly baking the bread of action And carrying the face Akin to an overly-ripen haluwabed1 Being a lifeless scarecrow
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 59 sd{sf] /f]6L a]Nbf a]Nbf KofQ kfs]/ un]sf] xNnf j]b h:tf] cg'xf/dfly v]tsf] lar pEofPsf] a'VofFrf eP/ ha l6gsf] 8Aaf -3/_ leq k|j]z u5{' 9f]sfs} 5]p lsl6Ss lyr]/ dg{ nfu]sf] aQL afN5' s7}, …;sL g;sL aln lbG5] d]/f] ;lsPsf] cg'xf/ x]g{ stf stf p;n] luHofpFb} xfF;]sf] k|tLt x'G5 d Ps 6sn] x]/L lbG5' p;}nfO{=== b'O kfOnf cl3 ;f5{' tfG5' cfˆg} lz/dfly 6fFluPsf] kftnf] 8f]/L 8f]/Lsf] s/fdt ;'?=== kl;gf kl;gfn] lgy|'Ss z/L/df lr;f] lr;f] atf; nfu] h:tf] d]/f] l;lnªdf em'G8]sf] kª\vf k'R5/ lgdf]7\g] lalts} x/]s lbg cguGtL kmGsf] df5{ dnfO{ cfgGb, v';L / cf/fd k|bfg ug{=== cguGtL jif{x¿ lgn]/ xf] ls < of}jgsf k/fux¿ ;do;Fu} p8]/ p;sf] s07df kIf3ft ePsf] 5 p;n] kv]6f b|'t ultdf 3'dfpF5] t/=== s07df kIf3ft / t d lgbfPsf] a]nf lz/ x'Fb} kfp;Dd k'Ug ;lSbg l7ª\u pleP/ /f]af]6 e}mF Pp6} lbzfnfO{ xDsL /xG5] udL{sf] tfkqmd a'em]/ s}n] v'6\6f xDsL dfU5' slxn] lz/ xDsL dfU5' Pp6} z/L/ Pl;of / o'/f]k x'G5
60 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf And standing in the middle of the field When I enter the zinc-sheet compartment I press the button Of the going-to-die electricity beside the door Alas! She hardly scintillates To look at my poor face I feel as if she has laughed at me I stare at her with goggle eyes… Two steps I go ahead And pull the thin string hung above my head Then begins puissance of the string… In the body drenched in sweat As if a cool breeze caresses The fan hung on my ceiling Moves innumerable times The moment I twist its 'tail' In order to grant me Happiness, pleasure and rest… Might be because it has devoured Innumerable years Or pollens of youth Have flown away along with time Its throat is afflicted by paralysis She moves her wings in rapid pace but…. Paralysis on the throat So, during my sleep She can't actuate air from head to feet Taking an erect position like a robot She goes on fluttering in the same direction In order to reduce hot temperature On leg I ask for fanning Sometimes I plead to fan my head The same body experiences Asia and Europe
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 61 Psflt/ udL{ csf]{lt/ lxpFb Psflt/ em/L csf]{lt/ v8]/L wGo 5f} d]/f] kª\vf ha lz/ ltd|f] sfvdf /fv]/ lgbfpF5' laxfg ;fyL;FuL eG5g\ cxf] Û s:tf] df]6fP5 ha v'6\6f ltDnfO{ ;'lDkG5' laxfg ;fyL ;FuL eG5g\ xf]Og, xfQL kfOn]sf] ;ª\s]t h:tf] 5 lg Û clg==== o:t} o:t} c¿ y'k|} c8\snx¿ .
blIf0f sf]l/of
62 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Somewhere summer Elsewhere winter Somewhere rainfall Elsewhere drought You are great my fan When I sleep putting head on your lap Buddies in the morning say– "Oh, you are fattening up!" When I entrust my leg to you Buddies in the morning say– "This might be symptom of elephantiasis."
And many more such estimations.
South Korea
1. A kind of sweet fruit containing a thin layer of cover that becomes red in color when ripen
Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 63
web source:www.khasskhass.com cgfldsf ■ sNkgf ;'j]bL d lg;fl:;Psf] 5' of] cGtl/Ifsf] 3]/fdf d oxfF ;Lldt x'g rfxGg cfsfz wtL{ ldn]sf] ljGb'df . ltdL / d, d / ltdLleq csf]{ ;fob Tof]eGbf klg k/ lg/fsf/ d]3dfnf cgljZjf;L dg cgle1 b[li6t/ª\u clg cl:tTjsf] vf]hLdf cgj/t bf}l8 /x]5' 8fo:kf]/fdf . cgfjZos k|Zgx¿ klg y'k|} 5g\ d cfjZos 7flGbgF cy{xLg pQ/ lbgsf nflu . klxrfg vf]lh /x]5' cgfyfnosf] cgfy h:tf] nIo ljxLg nIosf] k5fl8 u'dgfd cGtb[{li6df cgfd eP/ xf];\ jf cgfldsf Û elh{lgof
64 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Ms. Anonymous ■ Kalpana Subedi
I am smothered Inside the circle of the space I don't want to circumscribe here At the point where earth and firmament meet. You and me, me and within you Another one perhaps father than that Shapeless cloudscape Unreliable heart Benighted view-wave And in search of existence Constantly I am running on the diaspora. Worthless questions are many as well No more I feel necessary To give a meaningless answer. Identity I am seeking Like the helpless in an orphanage Behind the purposeless purpose In an anonymous vision Either becoming Mr. anonymous or Ms. anonymous. -Virginia, America Translation : Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 65 of] 3/ kSs} 9N5 xf]nf ■ sfªdfª g/]z /fO{
3/sf] 8fªu]g! af6 lbgxF' d'7Lsf d'7L WjfF;f] r'nf]dfly em5{ ;fgL d]/L alxgL a]:;/L lrRofpFl5g\ tf]t] tf]t] af]nLdf ?Fb} lkm/fb nfpFl5g\ . d b]Vb} 5'– oL sfnf sfnf em'Kkfx¿ ;fDvf@ dfly eml/ /x]sf 5g\ . blng / yfdx¿ s8\lsFb} 5g\ . 3/sf] lnpg plKsP/ emb}{ 5 . d"n vDafnfO{ wld/fn] vfO ;s] h:tf] 5 . of] 3/ kSs} 9N5 xf]nf . r}tsf] e'd/Ln] w'/LnfO{ p8fP/ sxfF sxfF k'¥ofof] . aftf / ef6fx¿ cfFug / 3'¥ofgel/ 5/k:6 5g\ . ;a} pxfFx¿ dlSs ;s]sf 5g\ . afb{nLsf v'6\6fx¿n] 5fgfnfO{ yfD5 s] < km]l/ avf{ cfpg nfUof] v/ sf6]sf] 5}g . xl/of] kmls{ ;Sof] . NofPsf gofF ef6fx¿ av]{dfly dlSs ;s] of] 3/ kSs} 9N5 xf]nf .
66 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf This House is Crumbling for Sure ■ Kangmang Naresh Rai
From the family dangen1, every day a handful of soot falls upon the fireplace at which, my darling sister screams and in her babbles, implores.
Even as I watch these black bunches are dropping upon the samkha2 of the hearth The beam and the poles are cracking. Adobe on the wall is crumbling Termites seem to have devoured the central pole This house is crumbling for sure.
The April wind has blown the roof away slivers and poles have been littered on the front-yard and backyard every pole is rotten can the poles that hold the verandah, hold the roof ? More, winter is approaching but we are yet to gather thatch. Greenery has rejuvenated.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 67 afp slxn] rf]of kqfpg] eGb} sb{n] v'6\6fsf] xl/gfy sf6\5g\ . slxn] 3/sf] 5fgf] x]b}{ b'b]/f] vf]K5g\ . slxn] kmf6]sf] ;'?jfn x]b}{ lhp sgfpF5g\ . slxn] rf]/ j:t'x¿nfO{ afFWg] bfDnf] af6] e}mF u5{g\ . slxn] kmf6]sf] 8f]sf] af]s]/ tNnf] 3/df uO{ k]6el/ hfF8 wf]sL, 8f]s} 5f8]/ cfpF5g\ . ;fRr} Û of] 3/ kSs} 9N5 xf]nf . b'O{ lhpsL cfdf ;fFem laxfg eO ;s]sL 5g\ . ;fyLn] k}Frf] lbPsf] 3'gn] vfO ;s]sf] ds} hftf]df 7l:sFb} lkl:5g\ . ;sL g;sL kmf]xf]/ cfFug ;d]6\l5g\ . 3/df afNg] bfp/f 5}g . b'b]/f] vf]k]sf rf]O6fx¿ l6k]/ cfuf] aflN5g\ . eft kfSb}g uGulgb} dlSsPsf ef6fx¿ efFrL Ps cFufnf] 3/leq x'lN5g\ . avf{ 3/leq} l5l/ ;Sof] ;fFRr} Û of] 3/ kSs} 9N5 xf]nf . kf]xf]/ ;fn e}mF kfgL r'lxP/ of] 3/ l;dv]t x'g] ef] . v/sf] k}Frf] dfUbf glbg] l5d]sLx¿ Kjfn k/]sf Knfl:6sx¿ af]s]/ of] ;fn klg n:s/} cfpg] eP . of] 3/sf] x'g;Dd a]OHht x'g] ef] o;kfnL of] 3/ kSs} elTsG5 xf]nf .
68 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The new bamboo poles are rotting on the stack This house is crumbling for sure.
Father, in the name of slivering bamboo cuts off the fissures on his feet with a jack-knife while at times, staring at the roof, carves out a milk-pot 3 he sometimes gawks at the tattered surwal and scratches himself or sometimes, feign to make a tether for the unruly cattle. There also are moments when, with an old basket he visits the next-door, downhill and returned drinking ale to his fill, leaving the basket behind. This house is crumbling for sure.
Mother, pregnant is about to deliver any moment yet, she struggles herself on the grinding stone crushing the weevil-devoured corn lent by a friend and cleans the front-yard with all her efforts; there's no firewood at home; she gathers splinters left from carved milk-pot and makes fire too faint to cook meal. Grumbling, she breaks a few mouldy stalks and takes them in. Rain has sneaked into the interior; This house is crumbling for sure.
Like the year gone by water, this year too, is sure to make this home a marshy field. Neighborus, who denied lending some thatch too would file up now, covered by perforated plastic sheets to oversee the wretchedness.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 69 of] k]6sf] aRrf klg d;Fu} kfgLn] leh]/ d5{ xf]nf . d]/f kv]6f gknfPsf 5f]/f 5f]/Lx¿ ca s] u5{g\ xf]nf < alHhof ult 5f8f d]/f] nf]Ug]nfO{ l5d]sLx¿n] k|wfgk~r r'Gg] 5g\ . o;f] eP k|r08hL, emngfyhL, ;'zLnhL Û xfdL;Fu} s] xfd|f] 3/ pleG5 xf]nf <
!= ls/ft /fO{sf] r'nf]dfly /flvPsf] Pp6f km'n'{ª hxfF lkt[ k'Hg] ;fdfgx¿ /flvPsf x'G5g\ . @= ltg r'Nxf h;nfO{ ;'Kt'n'ª elgG5 .
a]nfot
70 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf O, what a shamel it's going to be, now ! Perhaps, the house will crumble for sure this year.
This foetus, too will die along with me, all drenched by rain water. What will my little kids do now— they haven't had their wings, yet.
The neighbours will appoint my unruly impertinent husband as Pradhan Pancha4. In that cash, tell Prachandaji, Jhalanathj, Sushilji5! Will our house still stand erect, along with us?
United Kindom
1 a miniaturized bamboo basket the Kirat Rai people keep upon the mantelpiece to store stuffs used to worship the dead ancestors 2 small soil-mounds on the hearth for holding pots 3 traditional Nepali pants 4 the chief of a village local administration 5 Three successive prime ministers of Nepal.
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 71 d]/f] afWotf ■ s'zn lwtfn hxfF hGd]F d Tof] d]/f] hGdynf] ef] sfd ug{ cfOk'u]F ljb]z oxLF d]/f] sd{ynf] ef] r'lxPsf] 5fgf], cfdfsf] cfF;' ljb]l;g' d]/f] afWotf ef] /D5g\ ;a} :jb]zdf ;fx'sf] C0f ltg{' d]/f] st{Jo ef] afa'sf] e/f];f efOa}gLsf] cfzf ljb]l;g' g} d]/f] afWotf ef] h] ;f]r]F cfPF ljb]z ;kgf d]/f] rsgfr'/ ef] otf d hfkfgdf xNn]F d]/f] b]z e"sDkn] tx;gx; ef] g d}n] s'g} b'Mv ;f6\g kfpg] xf] g 6fn]F 5fgf], g k'5]F cfF;' dgdl:tis / hLjg Joy{ Joy{ ef] Û
a'9fgLns07, sf7df8f}F xfn M hfkfg
72 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf My Obligations ■ Kushal Dhital
The place I was born in became my birthplace and America, where I came to work turned out to be my workplace. It was my obligation to move abroad, leaving behind a leaking roof and crying mother. When everyone else rejoices at home I am driven away by the cash I owe. To uphold my father’s faith and siblings’ hope, moving abroad was my compulsion, but every day the dream I cherished before coming has been all but shattered now. Here I shook in Japan as quake quivered my country, there. O, my lot! I’m barred for sharing sorrows. I neither mended the roof, nor wiped any drop of tear. Wasted is my mind; wasted is all my life.
Budanilakantha, Kathmandu Presently : Japan
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 73 gofF 3n] ■ s';'d 1jfnL af]s]/ ?dfgL ;d|f6 ;kgf l5rf]Nb} b'Mvsf psfnLx¿ bf}l8Fb} bf}l8Fb} cfPsf 5g\ sfnf jf ux'Fuf]/f lnulnux¿af6 gofF 3n]x¿ pQ/–cd]l/sf rd]gfu[xsf] h'7]Ngf]df jf tGb'/sf] tftf] e6\6Ldf kmnfd] uf8fdf tfGb} kl/aGb afWotfsf] ef/L vf]lh /x]sf 5g\ Pp6f r]k]sf] lsgf/ hxfFaf6 ;'?;Dd ug{ ;lsof];\ Pp6f nDa] P]ltxfl;s bf}8 x/fPsf] klxrfg dfUb} v'6\6f ahfg{ ;8s 5}g l5d]sLsf] pS;fx6df nHhf:kb dfu af]s]/ wDSofpg s'g} /fHo 5}g
74 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The New Ghale ■ Kusum Gyawali
Cherishing romantic and imperial dreams, scaling the cliffs of hardship some new Ghale1 men from dark and wheatish-fair Liglig2 have come running all the way and have landed in North America
Pulling the iron-cart of circumstantial obligation across the wash-basin of a canteen or the blazing kiln of a tandoor3 they are looking for a crevice fringe wherefrom, they could commence again yet another run for a lasting history
Alas, they have no road to trample their feet upon, demanding their recognition; there’s no state for them to threaten with a disgraceful demand at the provocation of a neighbour; there’s no union that calls for a strike
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 75
web source:www.khasskhass.com sfd} gu/L tna kfpg' kg]{ dfudf cfGbf]ng ul/ lbg] s'g} o'lgog 5}g 3f]l6Psf] r'Rrf] gfs 5 uf]hLdf Tof] a]Rg kfOg] s'g} u}/;/sf/L Hof;n 5}g lxhf] bf}8g]x¿sf] s'g} afFsL kbrfk 5}g cof]Uo n8fs"x¿ h:t} cfˆg} lzlj/df gofF 3n] lkO/x]sf] 5 ld;fP/ d[t–;kgfsf] cf;"/ …;]nÚ sf] jfOg qmflGtsf af;L Kofnfx¿df xtfl/P/ lg:sFbf 3/af6 lal;{of] PskN6 kft ahfpg kfvfdf ;';]nL xfNg kv]/fdf ;f]lN6gLnfO klv{g b]p/fnLdf ufpFd} 5'6] jf r9]/ x/fP c/a÷dn]l;ofsf] hxfhdf 3n]sf k'/fgf afªx¿ v's'/L lagfsf] bfk af]s]/ o'4df lg:s]sf] jL/ 3n] lanvaGbdf k/]sf] 5 k"jL{t6sf] kfFr lrofg g]/ ltdLn] l7s} u/]5f} n]vf] /fv]/ lnvtx¿df ef]ln kms{g]5 gofF 3n]
76 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf to procure payment without work. in their pockets, all they have is a pointed nose all blunted; yet, there is no non-governmental smithy where they could sell it. For the runners of yester years no sound of footstep is left now; the new Ghale, like a disqualified guerrilla, remains shut in a cantonment, drinking the extract of his dead-dreams a ‘cell’ wine from the stale cups of revolution
As he hurried out of home he forgot, for once to blow the leaf-pipe on the slop to whistle away to the hills or to wait for Soltini4 at deurali; as for his old Bang5 he is either left back in the village or in the ship bound for Malaysia; The valorous Ghale who ran into the battlefield with a scabbard devoid of khukri is at loss now at the eastern shore near the Tomb of Five
You were right in leaving a mark on the debenture; the new Ghale shall return tomorrow, bearing on his chest fair Ligligs of experiences he shall come running all the way
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 77 af]s]/ 5ftLdf cg'ejsf uf]/f lnulnux¿ bf}l8Fb} bf}l8Fb} cfpg] 5g\ / l;sfpg] 5g\ gfgLx¿nfO{ s;/L bf}l8g' kbf]{ /x]5 /fhf aGg u0ftGqsf] v'nf d}bfgdf .
Sofgf8f
78 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf and teach to his kids how they ought to run to become kings in the open field of the republic
Canada
1. a surname of the ethnic group called Magar, one of the martial races of Nepal. 2. a place in Gorkha district, which is home to brave Gorkha warriors. In Ligligkot it was decided that whoever won the race from Chepeghat to the Ligligkot top will be the king for next year, and before the Shahs took over, it were the Ghales that always won and ruled. 3. a kiln, in which, tandoor-bread is baked. 4. the sister of one’s sister-in-law of brother-in-law. 5. the king of the Ghales.
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 79
web source:www.khasskhass.com v';Lsf] b/af/ ■ s[i0fkIf lr;f 5g\ ;x/sf 5ftLx¿ dfgf}F oxfF cfF;'sf] em/L k/]sf] 5– clj/n ?em]sf 5g\ o;sf :jlKgn cfFvfx¿ j:tL ag]sf] 5 pbf; pbf; / au]sf] 5 ;':s]/f xfNb} rf]s rf]s, uNnL uNnL ef]s / cefjsf] atf;=== of] ;x/ lhGbuLsf] ;x/ xf] of] ;x/ d]/f] ;x/ xf] of] ;x/– xfdL afFr]sf] ;x/ xf] oxfF 5g\ kfOn} lkR5] k|ltaGwsf 7];x¿ lgod, sfg'g / lje]bx¿ ;x/sf] dWoefudf plePsf] 5 Pp6f b/af/ cg'dfg nufO /x]5\g dflg;x¿ yfxf 5}g of] b/af/ t[i0ffsf] xf] of v';Lsf]
80 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Palace of Joy ■ Krishna Paksha
Cold are the bosoms of this town as though there has been a downpour of tears incessantly, the dream-laden eyes are all drenched, the village has been rendered forlorn; along every square, every street there blows the air of hunger and scarcity in deep sighs ...
This town is a town of life it’s my town the town we all live in
Strewn everywhere here are stumbles of prohibition rules, laws and discriminations. A palace stands at the heart of the town and people are making speculations they do not know whether the palace is one of desire’s, or of joy
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 81 a8f] 7fF6sf], a8f] eJo hxfF 6fFluPsf 5g\ xf]l8{+ª af]8{x¿ / n]lvPsf 5g\– …xf:g dgfxL 5Ú yfx} lyPg Psd'7L v';Lsf] nf]e, ;'vsf] ltvf{ olt lg/ª\s'z x'g ;S5 h;n] vf]l; /x]5– ;do, of}jg, an / kl;gf / zf;g ul/ /x]5 cgj/t o'uf}Fb]lv dfG5]nfO{, dfG5]sf dgx¿nfO{ === yfx} lyPg lhGbuLsf] b]zdf, ;'v olt :jfyL{ x'G5 ;'v olt lasfp x'G5 / olt cGofoL x'G5 / o;sf lgod sfg'gx¿ olt c;dfg x'G5g\ o;sf] jj{/tfsf lj?4 s/fO /x]5 Pp6f dfG5] cfjfh p7fO /x]5 lj/f]wsf] hf] ev{/ c/a hfg] le;fsf] kvf{Odf 5 p;nfO{ klg b]Vg' 5 ;'vsf] Tof] cg'xf/ / k'Ug' 5 v';Lsf] b/af/
;'gsf] x}g kmut g'gsf] ;kgf 5 pm;Fu pleqsf] pT;fxn] t/ o:tf] nfU5 dfgf}F ls ;'6'Ss km'6fpg] 5 p;n] v';Lsf] b/af/, o;sf rf]/ 9f]sfsf tfNrfx¿ / n'6\g] 5 ;f/f vhfgf ===
82 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf it’s magnificent and grand on whose walls are hanging billboards that read, "Laughing is prohibited here."
We never knew cravings for a peal of smile, desire for happiness could be so draconian that it could forsake time, youth, strength and sweats and rule upon man and their minds incessantly for ages...
We never knew in the country of life happiness could be so conceited it could so easily be bartered with and could be so unjust with so many unequal rules and laws.
Against its barbaric nature a man, who awaits his vista for the gulf yells raising his fill against its ways; he too is aspiring to see that face of happiness for which, he ought to reach the same palace of joy
He bears dreams not of gold, but of mere salt the zeal within him however suggests that he shall secretly break the palace of joy and the locks on its four doors and loot away all its bounty...
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 83 lk|o ;fyL Û gelglbg" p;nfO{ o:tf] a]nf ls pm cfkm} n'l6g] 5 / x/fpg] 5 /x/x¿sf] cgsG6f/ hª\undf laGtL, g;'gfpg" p;nfO{ s]xL klg km]l/ s'g} cGhfg ;kgfsf] xTof gxf];\ .
gLns07, wflbª xfn M Oh/fon
84 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Dear friend! Pray, do not tell him at such a moment that if he did, he would himself be looted and, would get lost in the deadly forest of desires. I implore you - do not share any of these things to him lest an unknown dream should be murdered once again.
Nilakantha, Dhading Presently : Israel
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 85 ;lDemP/ b]z ■ v8\u Gof}kfg] uxel/ cfF;' x'G5, ;lDemP/ b]z lj/fgf] ef] x]bf{ x]b}{, cfˆg} kl/j]z r'krfk x]l//G5, glrg] e}mF u5{ cfˆg} ufpF 7fDn] dnfO{, pN6} cfFvf t5{ . l;dnLsf] af]6d'lg, lyof] 9'ª\u] wf/f] glrlgg] cfˆg} 7fpF s7} Û s:tf] ;fx|f] 3fF;sf] ef/L la;fpg], rf}tf/L g} 5}g dgsf jx kf]Vg] sf]xL bf}Ft/L g} 5}g . e'n d]/} eof] Sof/], b]znfO{ 5f]8\bf kZrfQfk x'G5 h}n], ufpFsf] gftf tf]8\bf rfF8} kmsL{ cfpF5' egL, jfrf s;d vfsf] b]p/fnLdf k'mn r9fO{, lz/df kftL nfsf] . n]s} km'Ng] nfnL u'/fF;, a]F;L km'Ng] 6fFsL cfwf hLjg h;f]t;f], cfwf /Xof] afFsL g t cfof] rf8af8, g t v';L cfof] g t s'g} d'xf/df, pdª\u g} 5fof] .
86 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf In Memory of the Nation ■ Khadga Neupane
Eyes fill with tears when nation comes in mind Atmosphere that was my own, has but tuned alien It just stares straight at me, as through strange it is My own place and land today, cast me strange look.
There was a water spout, below simal shade My own land has turned so strange, alas what a fate! There is no chautari,1 to keep heap of fodder Nor do I have any friend, joy and woe to share.
Perhaps the fault was mine, to have left the nation I am full of remorse today, breaking ties with village I had made the promises to go and return soon Offered leaves to deurali2, and flower on the head.
On the hilltops guras blooms, tanki in the plains Half this life I have lived, half is just in hand Never did the festive hours come with happiness Neither did I ever see, joy on my own face.
Peepal-banyan grown on mounds near highway turns We are apart in the tongues, removed on the grounds All the live, whole of youth, in alien land we passed Hunger, or sleep all are away, living so much far.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 87
web source:www.khasskhass.com eGHofªsf] rf}tf/Ldf, kLkn' / j/ g t ldN5 af]nL jrg, g t ufpF3/ ;f/f hLjg ;f/f pd]/, laTof] k/b]zdf g t ef]s g t lgb|f qf; ljb]zdf . hlGdPsf] ufpF st}, ghfpF t km]l/ Joyf syf pln{P/, cfpF5g\ clgv]l/ cfFvfleq ltd|f] tl:a/, Åbodf dfof ufpFa]F;Ldf nfO/g], 3fdsf] Gofgf] 5fof . lIflthn] e]6]sf] 5, d]/f] ufpFnfO{ cfsfzn] 5f]Psf] 5, Kof/f] 7fpFnfO{ s?jfsf] kfgL ld7f], sf]OnLsf] uLt gx'g] kf] xf] ls ca, e]6 s;}l;t .
5f]8L hfg] dg lyPg l/gsf] ef/L lyof] kfvfaf/L vf]nfv]t ;fx'n] hDd} lnof] 3f]8f afFWg] ta]nf t ufO{ afFWg] uf]7 s}n] lgsf] xf]nf s7} Û cefjsf] rf]6 .
hd{gL
88 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf If I were not to leave my land, no progress would come Many would the woes be coming, many many pains My eyes are full of you, my heart with your love I am full of cool shadows of the sun at home.
My land far off is a land, horizons have met It is but a lovely place, by the skies caressed Water from a goblet excels, as is cuckoo’s song I am never meeting others, after today’s turn.
I had never want to leave, but the load of debt Landlord came to forsake field, all of our land, A horse we keep in the stable, a cow in a shade What could ever heal the sore, scarcity gave?
Germany
1. a resting place along a trail 2. a place where deities are worshipped along a trail
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 89 b]p/fnLsf] 9'ª\uf]–b]z / d'unfg ■ u0f]z v8\sf
5ftLel/ /fli6«o uLt / cfFvfel/ ;'b"/ ;kgf af]s]/ ;a}n] 5f]l8 lxF8]kl5 l67nfUbf] ePsf] 5 d]/f] b]z cfˆgf cfznfUbf tGg]/L ;Gtfgsf] la5f]8df dfof ug{] 5f]/f 5f]/Lsf] cefjdf PlSnPsf a];xf/f j[4–j[4f h;/L b'V5g\ k};fsf] af]6 vf]Hb} aflx/ lg:s]kl5 b]z t d'unfgdf kf] b'Vbf] /x]5 a]:df/L eljtJon] u'F8 5f]8]/ a;fOF ;g{ afWo lgjf{l;t r/fx¿sf] d'6'h:tf] . sf7df8f}F vfN8f]n] k'/f b]z g} t lrGb}g emg\ s] lrgf];\ ;+;f/el/ kf]lvPsf b]zjf;Lx¿nfO{ cfk"meGbf aflx/– s;}nfO{ df]km;n b]V5 s;}nfO{ d'unfg dfG5 s;}nfO{ nfx'/ 7fG5 / olta]nf s;}–s;}nfO{ 8fo:kf]/f eGg yfn]sf] 5 cflv/ ToxL sf7df8f}F vfN8f]dfq t /x]5 g]kfn ToxL sf7df8f}F vfN8f] afFsL b]z 6'qm\ofP/ df6f] c+zaG8fsf] n8fOF n8\b} 5
90 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Home and Abroad ■ Ganesh Khadka
With breast puffed with the national song and eyes filled with remote dreams when everyone has departed, my country has been rendered forlorn like hapless elderly folks, who ache in the absence of their young, hopeful progenies, Sans their loving sons and daughters. Once they have sneaked out of home in search of a money-bearing tree home aches in the strange land like the heart of the exiled birds forced to leave their nests by circumstances.
This ditch called Kathmandu has no idea how big is the nation, let alone the question of its knowing compatriots scattered all over the world outside its limits- it sees mofussil somewhere and Muglan1 somewhere
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 91 d]rL dxfsfnL eFhfP/, ahfP/ dw];] af;dtL rfdnsf] e'hf Ho'gf/ ub{} 5 d'unfg] t?0fx¿ ;ft' k|flKtsf] nflu b]z cnfk]/ kl;gf;Fu k};f ;f6\g] Odfgbf/ Ond ul/ /x]5g\ d'unfgdf . gfssf] nDafO cfFvfsf] uf]nfO{ / cg'xf/sf] rf}8fO dfkgdf of]hgfa4 rlj{m+bf 5g\ efuaG8fsf r/0fa4 n8fOFx¿ lxdfnsf] h8La'6L / kxf8sf] kmnk'mn klg kIfkft u/L u/L x;'5{ sf7df8f}F vfN8f] PSn}n] . la/fdL cfdfnfO{ PSn} 5f]8]/ d'UnflgPsf e"ld/Ifs 5f]/fx¿ ds} lk:bf efUon] aFr]sf 3'g;/x hah{:tL lhpFbf] ;lxb hLjg wfGg afWo 5g\ ufpF3/df /f]kfxf/, afp;] / v]tfnf gkfP/ afFlemPsf l;dv]t /0fe"ld x'Fbf afWotfn] l:jsfl/Psf] j|m"/ d'unfg . df5fnfO{ ldgkrf;sf] hf8f] eufpg afn'jfdf :yfgfGt/0f u/]h:tf] cgf}7f] 5 . b]z PlSnPsf] t ;f/} ghftL kf] x'Fbf] /x]5 cefjsf] vf8n kg'{ pkqmddf sf]vsf kf/;dl0f wdfwd k|jfl;Fbf lj/lStPsL cfdf b]z ag]/ ?Fb}l5g\ ToxL /utsf] gftf bfaL ug{] s'nª\uf/x¿ kljq df6f]df ljifsf a]gf{ ;f/]/
92 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf it considers some place a ‘Lahore’ and to some, of late, it has started labelling ‘Diaspora’ In fact, Nepal happened to be no other place but the valley called Kathmandu; which is, at present slicing the rest of the country and plotting the game of property-division; by poisoning relations between Mechi and Mahakali2 it’s devouring Basmati rice from Madhes3 Those young men in Muglan are reiterating the country’s name living on corn-grit, even as they profess there the honest talks of bartering labour for cash.
Episodes of violence emanating from imbroglio of inheritance planned to measure the lengths of noses roundness of the eyes and the breadth of the faces are breaking out in succession; Kathmandu alone devours with a discriminatory claim all herbs from the mountains, all fruits from the hills.
Sons, the saviours of the land who have been forced into Muglan leaving their ailing mothers back-home are forced to live the life of living martyrs. It’s a ruthless land, adopted out of compulsion when marshy-fields have been rendered barren for want of ropahar4, bause5 and farmhands
It’s like transferring a fish to the sands to help it cope with freezing cold.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 93 cd[t kmnfpg] kfv08L x'Fsf/ 8'lqmG5g\ b]p/fnLsf] 9'ª\uf]h:tf] b]z s7}a/f ¤ cfˆgf ;Gtfg vf]Hb} d'unfg lrxfpF5 b]znfO{ cGwsf/df PSnf] kf/]/ r:dfsf] bf]sfg yfKg]x¿ d'unfgdf d[To'b08 ;'gfOPsf] cfˆgf] gful/ssf] hft 7DofpFb}gg\ cfˆgf] cg'xf/sf] w'nf] gb]v]/ P]gf ;kmf ug{] ax'n7\7Lx¿ cfkm}n] nufPsf] b]zsf] 3fp sxfF b'V5 kQ} kfpFb}gg\ .
;];]N;
94 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Oh, it’s killing to see the country deserted. Bent on filling ditches of scarcity when one after another, the diamonds of the womb leave home, the wretched mother- the country- wails. Unworthy heirs who claim the same relation of blood display hypocritical bellows of sowing elixir, by planning tendrils of venom in the pious land. My beloved country like a stone on deurali6 peeks into Muglan looking for its kids. Those who keep the nation in dark and yet sell eye-glasses do not ascertain the citizenship of people sentenced to death in the lands abroad; the fools, who clean the glass unmindful of the dust of their own faces have no estimation where the wound they inflicted on the nation actually aches.
Seychelles
1. usually India, where the lower-middle class Nepalese go to work 2. rivers that form the eastern and western borders of Nepal 3. plains in the southern part of Nepal 4. women who plant rice saplings 5. men who smoothen the soil for planting rice 6. a holy shrine, symbolised by a stone that is usually established along a trail, where passersby offer flowers and leaves
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 95 gofF o'usf] vf]hL ■ u0f]z l3ld/] plxNo} ;To Ho'Fbf] 5Fbf dof{bf gf3]5 kfgLn] c/fhs df5fx¿ kfn]/ clxn]sf] sf7dfG8' vfN8f]df kLl8t df5fx¿sf] u'xf/df em/]5g\ dGh'>L lxdfnlt/af6 / l5gfP;Fu} rf]ef/sf] 3fF6L cGTo u/]5g\ 7'nf df5fx¿sf] Zj]t cftª\s clg df5f–df5flar kfgLn] u/]sf] c;dfg k|]d b]v]/ sf]dn df+;lk08df ha e/] ;[li6stf{n] r]tgf To;} a]nfb]lv ;'? eP5 dfgj a:tL sf7dfG8' vfN8f]leq km/s km/s /ª / ;f}Gbo{n] kf]ltPsf ljrf/ / dxŒjfsfª\Iffx¿
96 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf In Search of a New Era ■ Ganesh Ghimire
Long back, when truth was still living water happened to cross the limits of its conduct by raising fish in the pond where stands Kathmandu today
At the plea of the wretched people Manjushree1 descended from the mountains, cut open a gorge at Chobhar and ended the white-terror of the big fish. Seeing water’s unequal love for the fish when the Creator filled intellect into the soft tissues human settlement commenced in the Valley of Kathmandu
As the day matured thoughts and desires of varied colours spouted in the valley in the name of civilization; that brought in the Gopals, the Kirats2.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 97 6';fpFb} uP lbg l5lKkP;Fu} ;Eotfsf gfddf To;}n] t uf]kfnx¿ cfP, ls/ftx¿ uP, lxhf] lnR5ljx¿kl5 dNnx¿nfO{ nv]6]/ zfxx¿ em'lNsP / ev{/} c:tfP klg km]l/ cfh b]lvPsf 5g\ gj dxf/fhfsf cg'xf/x¿
;dosf] bf}/fgdf la:tf/} la:tf/} l5/]5 ;+;f/ kxf8x¿sf sfvLd'lgaf6 ;fFuf, rf]ef/ / gfu9'ª\uf x'Fb} slxn] u'8]/, slxn] p8]/ sf7dfG8'nfO{ rflxg]eGbf Hofbf sf7dfG8' g} sf7dfG8' xf]Og kf/]/ dfG5] sf7dfG8'df dfG5]s} Jofkf/ u5{ dfG5]sf] dfgfª\s sf7dfG8' k};fn] hfFR5 cr]n pm rf}sLbf/ p;}sf] ljZjf; u'd]kl5 /ftx¿ knkn clgbf a:5g\ cfFvfn] gl5rf]Ng] ;'l/nf w/fk b]jnx¿sf] v08x/ kmf]6f]skL af]s]/ yfxf 5}g s'g lbg clS;hg lkmtf{ dfUg] xf] xfjfn] dfG5]x¿af6 a];fxf bfn, rfdn / kfgLn] slt lbg 6nf{ of] uhf]{ sfsfs'n ltvf{ ;fFr]/ slxn] lkpg' xf]– d]nDrL ltd|f] sf7dfG8'df
P d~h'>L ltd|f] t/jf/n] ;'? u/]sf] gofF sf7dfG8' cWofo
98 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf With time, the Shahs entered ousted the Lichchhavis and the Mallas and no sooner than late, departed and today, once again faces of new emperors have emerged
In the gyration of time the world happened to have sneaked from underneath the armpits of hills and went past Sanga, Chobhar and Nagdunga3 rolling at times, or flying. It engendered in Kathmandu people more in number than expected making Kathmandu feel as though it were not Kathmandu and today, here, it trades on human beings. These days, Kathmandu measures the worth of people against money. He is the watchman when trust from upon him has receded the nights wake every moment, carrying on them the photocopy of the ruins of the tall, crumbling shrines
We don’t know when air shall claim back its oxygen from people; how long could they thrive, thirsty merely on lentils, rice and water? When could people get water from Melamchi in your Kathmandu?
O Manjushree! the episode of New Kathmandu campaign
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 99 6g–6g 6lGsPsf] 5 3ftx¿sf] unufF8 ag]/ ltdLn] plta]nf df5fsf] cftª\s bafP e}mF of] unufF8 lgrf]g{ ltdL cfkm} cfpg] ls s;nfO{ k7fpF5f} xF <
c:6«]lnof
100 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf you started with a sword is aching with a burning pain pent-up, like a goitre of sores. As you came down to contain the fish-terror will you come yourself, this time too to drain out puss from this goitre or you will send someone else?
Australia
1. A mythological saint belived to have come to Kathmandu from the north and cut open a gorge at Chobhar, drawing out all water from Kathmandu and making it habitable for human settlement 2. The dynasties that lived Nepal in ancient times 3. Three entry points to Kathmandu.
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 101 d[To' cg'go ■ uf]kfn ‘lzv/’ /]UdL lxhf] dfq} d]/f] 5]j}af6 uof} ltdL d]/f] j/k/ s]xL dfG5]x¿ eo lj:dodf lyP xfpu'hL ag]/ uof} ltdL d]/f cfFvfsf s'gf / sf]ifx'Fbf] sfps'tL ag]/ uof} ltdL . o;kfln klg dnfO{ kfvf /fVof} km]l/ cfpg] gofF efvf /fVof} . hfFu/sf] t]n ;lsPsf] bLkaftL l6nlkn l6nlkn clGtd / r/d zLtntf vf]H5 To;n] lgEg kfpg' k5{ . clego t Ifl0fs xf] ltdL zfZjt xf} . /ª\ud~rdf gf6s l;l4Pkl5 kbf{ v:g' k5{ .
102 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf A Plea for Death ■ Gopal ‘Sikhar’ Regmi
Just the other day, you went past me a few people around me were in terror and perplexity; you sneaked as a ghoul from near the corners of my eyes and their cells and passed over as a tickling. This time as well you sidelined me, and yet, projected another date for returning.
Like a lamp that has run dry of the fuel of zeal flickering in dim, dying light in search for the last and ecstatic coolness; it must be allowed to die.
Acting is ephemeral; you are everlasting. When the play is over on the stage the curtain should be allowed to fall.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 103 hGd]s} lbg d}n] k}tfnfn] ;xL5fk u/]sf] ;+;f/¿kL of] s/f/gfdf Dofb u'hf/]/ 5f]l8Psf] 5 d]/f ;a} k'/f u/]F ;t{x¿ ltdLaf6 ;t{ tf]l8Psf] 5 . laGtL 5, x] ejel~hgL, l5§} cfpm d]/f] s/f/gfdfsL clGtd a'Fbf ag]/ cfpm d]/f] gf6ssL ;"qfwf/ xf} ltdL of] gf6ssf] clGtd dGtJo b]pm d]/f] ofqfnfO{ clGtd uGtJo b]pm . k/d ;To, zfZjt of] ;+;f/s} clGtd /Lt xf/kl5sL clGtd lht cfpm dnfO{ cFufn . of] kfk aGwgaf6 d'Qm u/ of] tfk– t8\kgaf6 d'Qm u/ x] d'lQmbflogL Û of] ejsf] r8\sg aGb u/ d]/f] of] w8\sg aGb u/ .
elh{lgof
104 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf In this contract paper called the world whereon I signed with my toes right on the day of birth all my conditions have been set free after their tenure has expired; you have betrayed the conditions.
I pray, O Bhavabhanjini1! make a quick entry come after overseeing the last point in my contract you are the narrator in my play come; deliver the last speech in the play and allow me my ultimate destination.
Release me from the manacles of sins relieve me from this heat, this trepidation O Muktidayani2 -the giver of salvation! Stop these slaps of the world; come; give a rest to my heart.
Virginia
1. a name given to Goddess Durga. 2. the reliever; the granter of salvation, addressed to Goddess Durga.
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 105 zflGt ■ uf]kLs[i0f sfkm\n] piffnfO{ sfvdf /fv]/ p;n] a'4nfO{ k|0ffd u¥of] crfgs p;sf zAbx¿ k|:km'l6t eP zAb km'6\bf h] klg x'g ;S5 klx/f] hfg ;S5 af9L cfpg ;S5 / aufpg ;S5 kmf]x/sf y'k|fx¿ zAbnfO{ l/; p7\bf e"sDk hfG5 kN6g ;S5 s'rL{ / To;df a:g] ln;f] zAbn] s]xL dfu]g cfsfz dfu]g atf; dfu]g wg bf}nt / k|lti7f dfu]g xfd|f] yf]kf–yf]kf /ut v;]sf] df6f] dfUof] 5fnf / x8\8Laf6 ag]sf] e"ld dfUof]
106 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Peace ■ Gopi Krishna Kaphle
Placing the juvenile morn on his laps, he greeted the Buddha with folded hands; suddenly his words burst out.
When words blast, anything can happen land can slide flood can engulf and wash away the piles of filth; if words go cross they can topple the chair and the glue that holds one on it.
Words asked for nothing no sky no wind nor riches or honour; but it asked for the soil whereupon our blood dripped drop by drop asked for land made of skin and bones it did not ask for tears
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 107 cfF;' dfu]g xfF;f] dfUof] ljgf; dfu]g ljsf; dfUof] a'4n] lbPsf] gf;f] dfUof] lsgls s;}n] clxn] b]zsf], hgtfsf] ph]nL klg nUof], cFw]/f] klg nUof] kfgL klg nUof], kFw]/f] klg nUof] lhGbuLsf] 6'qmf 6'qmf nUof] ?vsf] af]qmf af]qmf nUof] slxn] aGb's b]vfP/ nUof] slxn] ef]6 5sfP/ nUof] slxn] kmsfP/ nfUof] rSs'sf] e/df nUof] wSs'sf] e/df nUof] / t zAb l/;fof] clg eGof] Ps :j/, Ps dfu a'4sf] zflGt cfh s;n] nUof] xfd|f] lgb s;n] n'6\of] ;kgf ?g] cfFvf yfs] ca t cfzf yfs] ljZjf; yfs] ufpF ;x/af6 ;a} x/fof] g rDkf rd]nL
108 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf or smiles; it asked for no destruction; rather, it asked for development asked for the legacy the Buddha bequeathed for, someone at present has forsaken the nation’s light and its darkness too; took its water away and its water spouts too grabbed each single fragment of life took every bit of the trees’ bark at gunpoint, sometimes or by tricking votes, at times connived sometimes and sometimes bragged and this sent the word annoyed and it aired a single demand in a single voice: Buddha’s peace!
Who’s forsaken our sleep today? Who’s robbed us of our dreams? Eyes that weep are fatigued hopes have grown exhausted everything has receded from country and town no champa and jasmine remain nor do the marigolds bloom anymore jade orchids, or rhododendron do not bloom anymore. Those who make us captive confine us to dark dungeons; how are we to tolerate those rascals occupying our chautaris1?
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 109 g dvdnLsf] cf; g rfFk 5, g u'/fF;, g Pp6f rf]vf] afF; xfdLnfO{ aGws agfP/ sfnsf]7/Ldf /fVg]x¿n] xfd|f] rf}tf/Ldf 3fd nfUbf ltg} b}To a;]sf] s;/L x]g]{ xfd|f] cfFugdf k'mn km'Nbf ltg}n] l6k]sf] s;/L ;xg] rf]s rf]sdf d;fg3f6 agfP/ slxn];Dd lz/ 5]bg ug]{ sª\sfnx¿sf] a:tL alg ;Sof] ca slxn] r]Tg] slxn];Dd bDe / h'Fufsf] n8fOF+ n8\g] 9'ª\ufsf] dg lnP/ uf]xLsf cfF;' gemf/f}F ef] gu/f}F ca lhTg] lhGbfafb xfg]{ d'bf{jfb lhGbfafb, d'bf{jfb dfq Pp6f sf]nfxn sfgel/ dfq Pp6f ljZjf;sf] lvNnL p8fpg] sfd dfq Pp6f rfxgf /fvf}F zflGt s]an a'4sf] zflGt .
Sofg8f
110 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf How are we to stand them picking flowers from our front-yard? How long should we bear beheading of ourselves at every square that has been rendered a graveyard? This village has turned a settlement of the skeleton when are we to reckon? When are we to stop engaging ourselves in battles of pride and power? Let’s stop shedding crocodile tears confining stone-hearts within; let’s shun now ‘long-live’ for the winners and ‘down-with’ for the vanquished; these slogans are mere commotions that irk the ears - a mere mockery of faith. Now on, let’s bear a single hope: Peace - Buddha’s peace and nothing else.
Canada
1. resting place for travelers built by piling stones along hilly trails
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 111 hLjg uLt ■ uf]jw{g k"hf lsg 8'Ab}g of] 3fd lsg s6\b}g of] /ft la5f]8\sf] jf/]G6 kq af]s]/ d ;do;Fu ;f]Wb} 5'– ldngsf] bf]af6f]lt/ lsg 3'Db}g of] k[YjL < ;d'b| Kof;L 5 lkP/ ddf Kof; cem a9]sf] 5 cfsfz pbf;L 5 x]/]/ ddf pbf; cem a9]sf] 5 lylrG5', lbg/ft lylrG5' clgR5fsf kxf8x¿n] lkl;G5', knkn lkl;G5' cfsfª\Iffsf vnx¿n] dfofsf dNxd ag]sf ;kgfx¿ ;DeFmb} ;f]R5'– lsg p7\b}g /SsL kj{tsf] 6'Kkf] ;u/dfyf 5'gnfO{ < lsg 36\b}g ;d'b|sf] cfotg u08sL– s0ff{nL x'gnfO{ <
112 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Song of Life ■ Gobardhan Pooja
Why doesn’t the sun set, why does the night linger? With the warrant-letter of parting in hand I ask the slithering time - why doesn’t the earth rotate towards the cross-road where meeting occurs? Ravenous is the sea I have grown thirstier, drinking from it; forlorn is the sky I have grown more destitute, seeing it I am crushed, day in and day out by mountains of loathing; I am ground, crushed every moment on the anvil of desires.
As I recall my dreams that are balms of love I muse - Why doesn’t the tip of Rocky Mountain jut out to touch Mt. Everest? Why doesn’t the ocean shrink
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 113 zf]sw'g ;';]nL a;]sf DofKknsf kftx¿ lsg ;fnsf kfte}mF xf:g ;Sb}gg\ < w'/Ldf r9]/ sf}8] efn]x¿ lsg laxfg af]nfpFb} af:g ;Sb}gg\ < l;;fsf] efF8f]df aGbL hLjg ;ª\uLtdo d[To'sf] kvf{Odf a;]sf] 5 5fgfd'lg t'Gb|'ª\u em'lG8Psf lxpF–nx/f h:t} dg a]jfl/; ag]sf] 5 s;}nfO{ lxpFn] kf]N5 s;}nfO{ pHofnf]n] 8:5 ;do–l;Ssfsf b'O{ kf6f s;}sf nflu ;'vb ldng s;}sf nflu b'vb la5f]8 tf/fb]jLsf] cfjfh h:t}– ;f]r]h:tf] x'Gg hLjg ;Dem]h:tf] x'Gg hLjg h:tf] ef]Uof] p:t} x'G5 vf]h] h:tf] x'Gg hLjg .
cd]l/sf
114 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf and become Gandaki or Karnali1? Why can’t the maple leaves that croon a death cadence whistle gaily like sal leaves? Why can’t the roosters sit on rooftops and hail the approaching morn?
Life, captivated in a glass-jar awaits a musical death; mind has grown unattended like snow-laden tendrils that sag underneath the roof. Snow smoulders some while others are stung by light time’s like two faces of a coin that caters joyous meeting to some and foists chilly parting to others like Tara Devi’s song— sochejasto hunna jeevan samjhejasto hunna jeevan jasto bhogyo ustai hunchha khojejasto hunna jeevan2!
America
1. two great rivers of Nepal. 2. a song sung by legendary Nepali singer Tara Devi, which says, "Life is not as we think, muse or seek. It’s how we experience it."
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 115
web source:www.khasskhass.com lkmtL{ l6s6 ■ uf]ljGb lu/L k|]/0ff nfddf nfu]sf] 5' lkmtL{ l6s6 lng . nfd slt nfdf] 5 So} yfxf 5}g cufl8 x]5{' cgGt 5 nfd k5fl8 x]5{' cgGt 5 nfd d]/f] gh/df nfd afx]s So} 5}g nfddf nfu]sf] 5' lkmtL{ l6s6 lng . l6s6 sf6\g] ‰ofn gv'n]sf] xf] ls em]Nofxfx¿n] nfd gf3]/ wdfwd ;s]sf x'g\ ls x'Nofxfx¿n] x'nbª\uf u/]/
116 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com The Return Ticket ■ Govinda Giri Prerana
I stand on line to purchase a return ticket.
I have no idea how long the queue is to my front it’s never-ending to my back it’s even longer to my eyes nothing but incessant line appears I stand on line to purchase a return ticket.
It’s uncertain whether the counter is yet to open or the defaulters breached the lines and bought all the tickets or the rioters out of their hooliganism forced the sale to stop.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 117 l6s6 ljqmL /f]lsPsf] xf] ls So} So} yfxf 5}g .
3G6f}F 306f e};Sof] nfd lkml6Ss rn]sf] 5}g w]/} w]/} 6f9f b[li6 k'¥ofpF5' nfddf a:g cfpg]sf] tfFtL If0f If0fdf a9\bf] 5 t/ nfd ;/]s} xf]Og nfd rn]s} xf]Og . nfddf nfu]sf] 5' lkmtL{ l6s6 lng . nfddf a:bfa:b} ;fpg] ;ª\qmflGt cfof] uof] nfddf a:bfa:b} b;}F cfof] uof] ltxf/ cfof] uof] bxL cIftf clj/sf] 6Lsf yfnLd} ;'s]sf] va/ cfof] afcfdfsf] cfF;' klg To;/L g} ;'s]sf] va/ cfof] dvdnLsf] dfnf pg]/ a;]sL d]/L lbbLsf] cfFvf s'bf{s'b{} 66\6fof] /] 3fd 8fF8fdf k'Ubf klg 3fF6L tGsfO{ tGsfO{ cfFvf Roft]/ af6f] x]l/g\ /] t/ lkmtL{ l6s6 gkfP/
118 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf It has been hours the line doesn’t progress an inch; I cast my gaze far and wide with newer entries the line grows longer each moment yet the line doesn’t move; it makes no progress at all.
While still on the line Sankranti1 came and slipped away Dashain came and went its way and so did Tihar festival; Akshyata2 in coloured curd went dry on the plates itself there was news, tears in my parents’ eyes went dry in the same way; my sisters’ eyes that awaited my return with a velvet garland in hand for me too have gone fatigued; there’s news : she raised her hood and looked along the away with eyes wide open for quite long even after sunset; yet, for want of a travel ticket I had to forgo Shrawan Sankranti, Dashai-Tihar and everything else.
And then, Magh Sankranti3 came around in the air and passed; tubers of yam and chaku-in-ghee4 hung up in the eyes as ripples of reminiscence.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 119 d]/f] ;fpg] ;ª\qmflGt, b;}F ltxf/ ;a};a} 5'6\of] . df3] ;ª\qmflGt klg cfof] / uof] t?nsf 7'Gsf / £o', rfs'sf ;Demgf dfq} cfFvfdf :d[lt t/ª\u ag]/ em'lG8P/ /Xof] . nfddf a:bfa:b} r}t] b;}Fn] klg cfP/ labf lnof] . x}g of] nfddf a:bfa:b} h'gL g} laTg] xf] ls of] lkmtL{ l6s6 a]Rg]x¿ stf x/fP ev{/} of}6f h]6 ljdfg t cf]ln{Psf] xf] Tof] t uO klg ;Sof] efUodfgLx¿ hfg kfP xf]nfg\ Tof] h]6 ljdfgdf . ca t h]6 ljdfgx¿ cfsfzdf klg b]lvg 5f8] w/tLdf cf]ln{g klg 5f8] l/Qf] l/Qf] e};Sof] ljdfg:yn of] nfd lsg a9\b}g lsg kfplbgF d lkmtL{ l6s6 <
120 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf While still in line Chaite Dashain5 too came and sneaked away.
Oh, is the whole life going to wane while I’m still on line? Where are the sellers of the return ticket? Just a while ago I saw a jet plane landing, but then, it flew away again. Perhaps the lucky ones found place it in, and flew off. But now, no jet appears anywhere in the sky nor is any of them landing on earth the airport has turned quite desolate by why doesn’t the queue progress? Why don’t I receive a return ticket? I have enough cash in hand my passport is with me and have an identity-card too why am I, still deprived of a return ticket?
There’s no way out of this never-ending line; how long am I doomed to remain here? The legs are tired and so is the mind; eyes have gone dry. O, why don’t you give me a ticket to return to my homeland?
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 121 xftdf /sd oy]i6 af]s]s} 5' kf;kf]6{ af]s]s} 5' kl/ro kq af]s]s} 5' lsg kfplbgF d lkmtL{ l6s6 < of] cgGt nfdaf6 km'Ts]/ hfg] 7fpF klg 5}g slt s'g{' of] nfddf v'6\6f uln ;Sof] dg yfls ;Sof] cfFvf ;]nfO ;Sof] x}g d]/f] b]z hfg] lkmtL{ l6s6 b]pm g hgL u/ dnfO{ lkmtL{ l6s6 rflxPsf] 5 cfh} rflxPsf] 5 clxNo} rflxPsf] 5 . nfddf nfu]sf] 5' lkmtL{ l6s6 lng .
cd]l/sf
122 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Come on; do quick I am in bad need of the ticket; I need it today itself now itself.
I am in a queue to purchase my return ticket.
America
1. the first day of a Nepali month, considered an auspicious day. 2. votive rice-seeds in colour, put by enders on the forehead of the juniors as mark of blessing. 3. the first day of the month of Magh, celebrated as a festival. 4. a hard candy bar, domestically prepared in Nepal with sugar molasses and dry fruits. 5. the first day in the month of Chiatra, also a festival.
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 123 cl:tTj ■ uLtf vqL olt ;'Gb/ au}FrfnfO{ sf] xf]nf phf8 kfg{ vf]lh lbg] ;+;f/ g} s] x'g] 5 o:t} t+F5f8 d5f8 x'g] xf] eg] of] ;+;f/ s:tf] xf]nf Tof] lbg d?e"ld e}mF phfl8of] eg] . dfq Ps rf]l6 u/ ;'Gb/ zfGt b[Zosf] kl/sNkgf To;leq ltdLx¿ df}nfpFb} hfg] 5f} dfq PskN6 u/ xl/of] j;Gt Ct'sf] kl/sNkgf To;leq ltdLx¿ knfp+Fb} hfg] 5f} . klxnf] bf];|f] ljZj o'4sf] kl/0ffd t yfxf g} 5 P, /Qm lkkf;' dfG5] xf] ¤ k]ml/ lsg t];|f] ljZj o'4 lgDTofO /x]5f} .
124 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Existence ■ Geeta Khatri
Who’s that trying to devastate such a beautiful garden? What will the fate of the world be if such contentions last? And if such a day comes how will the look of the world be rendered desolate, like the sands ?
Just for a moment, imagine a beautiful world; you will thrive in lush, inside it. Just for once imagine a green spring time; you will grow verdant in it.
Perhaps you know the consequences of the two World Wars. O warmongers humans ! Why are you, once again plotting the Third Word War?
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 125 cfˆg} ld7f sNkgfx¿ cfk}mn] u/]sf ;'Gb/ l;h{gfx¿ k]ml/ lsg To;}sf] cl:tTj d]6fpg vf]lh /x]5f} <
cd]l/sf
126 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Why are you once again bent on annihilating the existence of your own lucid musings, your own beautiful creations?
America
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 127 b'O{ 5f]6f sljtf ■ uLtf kGy
!= lj;ª\ut cr]n zflGt cg;g a:5 :joDe"df, cxF, cfFvf vf]Nb}gg\ a'4 Û sxfF 5 b]z dfglrqdf b]lvG5 w'ldn 5fof /utfDo 5g\ ;Ldfx¿ lxdfn cfqmf]z kf]S5 df6f] df}g 5 oltv]/ ;fob ;Defljt k|no, b]z b'V5 b]zelSt dfq clt/l~ht v]n nfda4 5g\ kf;kf]6{ af]s]/ of]Uo s0f{wf/x¿
;fl6Psf 5g\ cFWof/fdf y'k|} uf]Ko kmfOnx¿ s;n] agfpF5 ;+ljwfg
128 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Two Short Poems ■ Geeta Panth
I. Delinquencies
These days, peace holds a sit-in protest at Swayambhoo30 and the Buddha doesn’t open his eyes; no!
Where is the country? A soiled shadow appears on the map, and blood-stained are the borderlines
The mountain pukes its rage, mute is the soil this moment - premonition for an upcoming catastrophe? The nation aches.
Patriotism - a mere, exaggerated game! Lined up are the worthy heirs, passports in their hands.
In the dark, many secret files have been exchanged; who will draft a new constitution?
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 129
web source:www.khasskhass.com eGg ;lsFb}g emG8f slxn];Dd kmx/fO/xG5 < d"lR5{t 5 gful/stf .
@= g:nLo r]t
5fgf r'x]sf] ;Dk|e' b}nf] kmf]l/Psf] 3/ b'u{d /fli6«otf l5d]sL pT;j cfnL nufPsf] :jfwLgtf c;lxi0f' ;+od b'?x zflGt uGtJo cGof}n cfNxflbt klx/f] n'5fr'8 ;w}F cFWof/f]sf] ;'gfdL efuaG8f Pstf cd]nsf] ;'d]? lj;ª\ut pbfpF5 cf]em]n st{Jo e'OFrfnf] ljZjf; v'DrFbf] dfglrq .
cd]l/sf
130 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf No one can tell how long the flag shall flutter. Citizenship lies senseless.
II. Ethnic Consciousness
Perforated territorial rights, a home with a changed door
Remote nationalism : a festivity for the neighbours freedom, held in place by fabricated ridges
Unruly patience intricate peace uncertain destination
Ecstatic landslide everlasting mauling a tsunami in the dark
Unity in partisan sharing carries off a Sumeru1 of discrepancies in a delinquent way; shadowed duties faith, shaken like the earthquake ever-shrinking map. America
1. high mountain of mythological importance.
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 131 xªsª ;x/ Û ■ rGb| dfb]g ‘cfG5g\’ cfˆgf] Kof/f] dft[e"ld ;'Gb/ b]z g]kfn cfdf 5f]8]/ of] s[lqd ;x/ k/b]z kfx'gfsf] ¿kdf cfP/} xf]nf dem]l/df 3/b]zs} ljDa cld6 5fk x'Fbf] /x]5 zflGt ;'/Iff / k|hftGqsf] vf]qmf] k|rf/ u/]/ ljZjnfO{ lsl~rt u'd/fxdf xfNg] of] xªsª lxhf]eGbf cfh, cfheGbf ef]ln k'FhLjfbL dflns rf}u'gf wgsf] 8ª\u'/df /dfO /x]sf cfˆg} afnar]/fnfO{ a]jf:tf u/]/ dWo /ª\uLg /ftdf of}g lkkf;'sf] kvf{Odf rnfodfg x'g] cw{gUg ul0fsfx¿ lrÝf / 3f]8f bf}8df lhtsf clenfifL ;kgf u'dfPsf lzlyn, a]r}g / lg/fx/sf] of] ;x/
132 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The City of Hong Kong ■ Chandra Maden ‘Aanchhan’
In this strange, the artificial city the porch is strewn with the image of homeland perhaps because, we came here as guests, leaving behind beloved and beautiful motherland, Nepal.
With bogus claims of peace, safety and democracy, this city called Hong Kong keeps the world in deception
The capitalists swell in wealth that multiplies every day and rejoice in the pile of pelf even though their kids go neglected. In the midst of colourful nights the half-naked belles wait for sex-mongers. This is the city of the worked-up, restless and the unfed who have lost the dreams of victory in dice or in horse-race
Slighted by their own families and kids weak, helpless and sick mothers
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 133 cfˆg} kl/jf/ / ;Gtfgb]lv ckx]lnt cf;Qm / z/L/ lnP/ s';do;Dd kmf]xf]/sf] yf]qf k'Gt]/f kf]sfx¿ cf];fl/ /xg] lg/Lx j[4 /f]uL cfdfx¿ lgTolbg Ps 8f]sf] Hofbf lgGb|fb]jL af]Sg] dhb'/x¿ ef]ssf] 9fs/nfO{ c+uf]/fn] 5f]Kg k|oTg ug]{ dhb'/x¿ lgtfGt :jfy{sf] vflt/ c¿nfO{ a]jf:tf ub}{ pT;u{sf] xf]8df r'ln /x]sf] of] ;x/ of] sª\lj|m6sf] ;x/df c/lgsf]n] lrq sf]/]e}mF ;'Gb/ cgsG6f/ cfsfl;Psf uugr'DaL dxnx¿ sfGn} sfGnfsf v]tsf u/f e}mF oftfoftsf /x/ nfUbf af6fx¿ OGb|nf]s e}mF chª\usf dgdf]xs k'nx¿ dnfO{ ldYof / jdg nfU5 d 7f]s'jf u/]/ eG5' d]/f] ufpFsf] uf]/]6f], uNnL, l;ofFn, s'n];f] / lrKn]6L 9'ª\uf eGbf Kof/f] sbflk 5}g of] ;x/df nfnL kfp8/ wl;Psf s[lqd a8]dfg lj?jf / ?vx¿ Ifl0fs ;dosf nflu O;fO{ kj{df w'kLsf lszf]/ ?vx¿nfO{ kmh'n vr{ u/L l;Fufl/Psf ax'/ª\uL lemNs] aQLx¿ pknAwljxLg dxŒjxLg nfUg] cfsfzdf s/f]8f}Fsf] af?b p8fpg] slyt kmfO/ js{sf] ldYof nfUg] s[lqd v]nx¿, d]/f] ufpF lgh{g eP klg
134 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf carry old bundles of filth from this corner of the city to that. Porters pine for an additional bundle of sleep, every day; workers subdue a belch of hunger with their hands; this is a city that surges in a race for sacrifice, neglecting others all for its selfish motifs.
The skyscrapers jutting towards the sky monuments as beautiful as those that were sketched by Arniko1, strew all over this concrete city; eye-arresting roads for vehicles arrayed like terraces in the field magnificent and pretty bridges as though they were in Indra’s2 realm are all to me spurious and nauseating. I assert it with authority— it’s not, in any way as attractive as the trails, streets and shades canals and slopping stone in my village
The man-made, gigantic trees and plants bedecked with colour for moments during Christmas, the adolescent junipers embellished with multiple lights by making indiscriminate expenses, the shells worth millions and the fireworks shot onto the sky in vain are all but fake games; and I claim, they are in no way as attractive as the pines, chiretta
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 135 d 7f]s'jf u/]/ bfaLsf ;fy eG5' d]/f] ufpFsf] ;Nnf, lr/fOtf], plQ;, s6'; / nlA;sf] af]6eGbf dgdf]xs sbflk 5}g of] s[lqd ;x/sf] cEo:t cTof;nfUbf au|]NtLx¿ b]Vbf 3[0ffsf] tnfpaf6 ao]nLx¿ ;';fpF5g\ cfF;'sf] la6f]n] cg'xf/ g'xfpF5 dfg;k6ndf cgf:yfsf SofS6;x¿n] 8]/f hdfpF5g\ ÛÛÛ
xªsª
136 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf alders, chestnut and hog-plum that grow in my village though it’s only faintly populated
On seeing these tiring extravaganza of this artificial city a puff of wind emanates from ponds of hatred the sprays of tears come and wash the face, and cactuses of faithlessness sprout in the minds. Hong Kong
1. A Nepali sculptor who constructed historical monuments in China during the fourteenth century 2. king of the gods, according to Hindu mythology
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 137 xfdL ef/L af]ls /x]5f}F ■ hut gjf]lbt
;dosf] k|To]s kn;Fu ljZjf;sf] xfd|f] alnof] w/x/f dlSsFb} 5 lgwf]{ a:tLdf ;Gqf;sf] cfuf] ;lNsFb} 5 s;/L zfGt eP/ a:g ;Sg' xfdL ha Pstfsf] ;u/dfyf elTsFb} 5 uPsf jif{x¿ xfdLn] v]taf/Lel/ czflGt /f]Kof}F /, 9's'6Lel/ zf]s leœofof}F xfd|f] au}Frfdf s]jn cfF;'sf bfgfx¿ kmn] k'mnaf/Ldf klg p;} u/L cfF;'sf y'Fufx¿ km'n] xfdLn] xfF:g vf]h]sf] lg/Lx xfF;f] xfF:g} gkfO{ x/fP/ uof] zlQmsf] Onfsf afhL dfg{ ;Sg]x¿n] ;fw' ufO{nfO{ 3f]8f agfP cfk"mh:t} dfG5]sf] xTof u/]/ cfk"mnfO{ ljhoL 7x¥ofP
138 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf We are Bearing Loads ■ Jagat Navodit
With every moment of time the robust Dharhara1 of our faith is crumbling; the flame of terror is spreading to the hapless village; in that case how can we remain composed when the Sagarmatha2 of unity is collapsing.
In the past years we sowed in our fields the seeds of riots all that grew were beads of tears, in our garden too nothing but blossoms of tears sprouted; our helpless smiles have aborted before taking a shape; those who could claim the citadel of power made horses of the meek cows and ensured themselves winners by murdering the people like themselves while some devilish murderers are masquerading to be good in disguise.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 139 / s]xL cwdL{ xTof/fx¿ ;Hhgtfsf] 5fnf cf]9]/ a;]sf 5g\ . pkm\ Û v;Lsf] 6fpsf] /fv]/ s's'/sf] df;' a]Rg]x¿ Jofkf/ b'u{l{Gwt alg /x]5 cufl8 lgu'/d'G6L em's]/ k5fl8 sf]vdf 5'/f /f]Kg]x¿ dfgjtf bªbªtL ugfO /x]5 lao/sf] r':sL wf]s]/ kfgL lkPsf] l/kf]6{ n]Vg]x¿ htftt} clgoldttf alu /x]5 vf]nf wldNofP/ df5f dfg{ cj;/ 5f]Kg]x¿ ;8sdf /fhgLlt gfª\lu /x]5 efjLn] n]lv lbPsf] efUo ;Dem]/ xfdL uwfx¿ k':tf}Fk':tf lxF8\of}F vfnL v'6\6f of] au/ l/gsf] ef/L af]s]/ lxF8\of}F lk/sf] ef/L afs]/ lxF8\of}F b'Mv u/] ;'v ldN5 eg]/ lxF8\of}F t/ lg3f{t ;don] s'lNrP/ lxFl8 /Xof] xfd|f] ;kgf kL8f cf]9]/ lgbfPsf xfdLnfO{ kL8f yk]/ lxFl8 /Xof] ;do x'Fbf x'Fbf Ps x/s ;f; km]g]{ clwsf/df ;d]t
140 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Ooph ! Those who show the head of a goat and sell the flesh of dogs are soiling trade; there are a few who prostrate in front and hide knives under their armpits, humanity emanates a foul smell; there’s a crowd of those who drink beer and mention of drinking water in their reports; irregularities flow from every corner those who love to fish making the river turbid too are seen quite active; politics has been stripped naked on the streets.
We the donkeys walked across generations, taking our lot as predestination allocated by destiny; we scaled this bank, barefoot with the load of debt on our back; we walked with the burden of sorrows, believing that labour would lead to happiness.
However, the wilful time went past us trampling upon our dreams; it went, adding worries upon us, who were sleeping covered with worries and on top of that it went away, putting a ban on our right to breathe.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 141 xfdLnfO{ x:tIf]k u¥of] of] ;do ;dosf] /ª km]g{ s] dfq u/]gf}F of] df6f]df < slxn] sfnf] sf]7fdf xTs8L;Fu ;ª\3if{ u¥of}F slxn] 3/af/ Tofu]/ lgjf{l{;t hª\unL eof}F alnbfgLsf] s] s'/f ug{' < hLjg ;dk{0f u/]/ ;lxb eof}F sxfF uof] xfd|f] /utsf] d"No < sxfF x/fof] xfd|f] kl;gfsf] dfGotf < s] lx;fa lstfa 5 xfd|f] lhGbuLsf] < / of] df6f]df xfdL uwfx¿ o;/L ef/L;Fu} hGd]/ ef/L;Fu} dg{' 5
;tLn] ;/fk]sf] of] b]zdf ca Roft]/ w'hf–w'hf unt Oltxf;sf kfgfx¿ n]Vg] c7f]6 5 gofF Oltxf; xfdL ;lbcf}Fb]lvsf uwfx¿ olta]nf ef/L;Fu} cfGbf]ngdf 5f}F .
vf]6fª xfn M a]nfot
142 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf What didn’t we do in this land to change the colour of such a time? Sometimes, we languished in dark dungeons with hands bound by manacles; we also abandoned homes and families and lived as exiled woodmen. What to talk of sacrifice! We chose martyrdom, sacrificing our lives. Where did the worth of our blood flow? Where did the recognition of our sweats go? Have accounts of our lives been maintained? We the donkeys are doomed to be born with burden and die with burden in this land.
In this nation, cursed by a sati3 we must now tear into bits the pages of our wrong history; we are determined to writing a new version of it we, the donkeys labouring for ages have taken to the streets today together with our loads.
Khotang Presently : Belayet
1 tall tower in Kathmandu (now dismantled by the earthquake of 2015) 2 Mount Everest 3 a woman extremely faithful to her husband.
Translation : Mahesh Paudel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 143 /ut pQ/ cfw'lgs ■ 8f= hoGt s[i0f zdf{
/ut t ;a}sf] /ft} g} x'G5 . xf], ;fg}b]lv p;n] o:t} b]v]sf] 5 . hoGt s[i0f kmut PSn} cfkm};Fu aft df5{, k|Zg u5{, pQ/ lbG5 cfkm} k|ltjfb u5{– /ut ;a}sf] ;fFRr} g} plQs} /ftf] x'G5 lg Û s;/L x'G5 t To;f] eP w]/ cyjf yf]/ lxdf]Unf]ljg ÛÛ lnvfkfgL k'Ubfk'Ub} nvt/fg k/]sL hodfof lxdf]Unf]ljg 36]/} xf] ls s;f] ynf;]ldofdf ynf k/]sf] p;n] ;Dem]sf] 5 . cfkm};Fu 5nkmn ug{ vf]Hb5 pm, xf], w]/yf]/ h];'s} xf];\ /ut /ftf] /ft} xf] . sfnf] uf]/f] hf];'s} xf];\ /ut ;a}sf] /ft} xf] .
144 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Blood: Post Modernism ■ Dr. Jayanta Krishna Sharma
Everyone’s blood is red Yes, he has felt the way.
Jayanta Krishna soley Murmurs, questions, and then answers And defends he– Everyone’s blood is equally red, no! Why comes the difference in hemoglobin !
He has remembered that event Jayamaya exhausted and emaciated While reaching Lekhapani Was it due to deficient hemoglobin Or a cause of Thalsemia .
He begins pondering – No matter less or more Blood is red in itself Whether one is black or white It is red , no !
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 145
web source:www.khasskhass.com xf] t, wgL ul/a hf];'s} xf];\ sf6] /ut /ft} lg:sG5 lgisif{df k'lu ;S5 pm . la:tf/} cfkm};Fu aft dfg{ yfN5– sf6] /ut ;fFRr} /ft} lg:sG5 t < lg:sFb} lg:s]g /ut g} eg] << hoaxfb'/ kx]+n]u|:t x'Fbf /utdf Kn]6n]6 g} 3l6 ;s]sf] eGb} 8fS6/ cflQPsf] clg lkQ/f]u, km]l/ No'sf]k]lgof eGb} bafO{ a'6L ubf{ub}{ ;j{:jfGt ;a};a} clg 5nkmn ca s] ug{' 5 / p;n] Û /uts} ladf/ x]g{ /ut g} hfFr ubf{ub}{ klg lbgx'F 8fS6/s} lyPg s]xL s'g} 5nkmn Û
/ klg cfkm};Fu 5nkmn ug{ pb\ljUg 5 pm cfkm};Fu dGyg u5{– /ut p;sf lglDt lrGxf/L xf] /ut p;sf lglDt ;dfgtfsf] k|tLs xf], dfGotf xf] . crDd– dflg NofPsf] dfGotfsf] klg o;/L cdfgjtf x'g ;S5 / < yfk]/ /fv]sf] k|tLssf] klg o;/L ljrng x'g ;S5 / << leqL va/ Û honfO{ An8 s]G;/– k'li6 5}g Û pm c:ktfn bu'5{ .
146 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Without any doubt Whether rich or poor Red blood spews in bleeding He is confirmed .
Slowly he talks to himself Is it red blood to spew in bleeding ? What if it does not spew out blood?
On being pale once Jaya Bahadur got diagnosed to have jaundice A case of deficient platelets by the doctor Which further becomes a case Of leucopenia and other symptoms In course of medication and treatment .
What else should he discuss When the doctors remain uncertain themselves Despite regular tests of blood!
But he is desperate in selfrumination He contemplates, For blood is his introduction To him it is basis of equality and faith.
Strange, How comes belief falters down ? How the accepted symbol becomes flagrant?
The secret news! Jaya’s blood cancer is not diagnosed He rushed to hospital He is transfixed in the doctors’ words
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 147 xf], /ut ltg ltg dlxgfdf ;f6L /fv] ladf/L 9'Ss afFlr /xG5 . 8fS6/ s'/fdf c6n 5 . hoaxfb'/ otf ul/a 5 . p;sf] z/L/df ca cfkm}nfO{ dfg]{ /ut a;]sf] 5 . p;nfO{ cfh aFrfO /x]sf] /ut ef]ln p;}nfO{ dfg{ tTk/ 5 . hoGt s[i0f 5Ss k5{– xf], /ut leGg 5 clg /ut sdzM leGg x'Fb} klg hfFb} 5 . s'g} /ut leœofpFbf dfG5] afFR5, s'g} /ut lgsfNbf dfG5] afFR5 Û
/ut y/L y/Lsf] An8a}ª\sdf 5 ho axfb'/nfO{ ;f6\g t/ /ut 5}g p;nfO{ rflxg] dfOg; /ut ;fyLefO s;}sf] ldNb}g . hoGt s[i0f cndNn 5 . pm cfh 7f]s'jf ug{ ;Qm}g /ut ;a}sf] /ftf], Pp6} g} x'G5 Û cfkm}nfO{ g} 3/L 3/L k|Zg u5{– ;+;f/ klg of] s] /ut h:t} g} 5 t < pQ/ 5}g . Ps}l5g la;fpF5 . km]l/ k|Zg u5{– /ut h:t} of] ;+;f/ 5 ls ;+;f/ h:t} of] /ut 5 ÛÛ
xfn M cd]l/sf
148 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf That one can survive if blood is transplanted Eveych three month.
Though Jaya Bahadur is poor His blood is enlisted with sinistrous death The surviving blood today is Posed to kill him tomorrow.
Jayanta Krishna is shocked Yes, the blood is different And gradually it changes to be different Life survives when a type of blood is injected Another type is spewed.
Different blood is there in the blood bank But he does not have blood to exchange He needs negative blood Which he doesn’t get in his friends’ circle!
Jayanta Krishna is puzzled He does not ascertain Every blood is red, one category He asks himself repeatedly Is the world like the blood ? He has no answer, he pauses for a while He questions again: Whether the blood is like the world Or world is like blood ?
At present : America
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 149 ad k8\s]sf] dlGb/ ■ hoGt ;f]sn slxn] sfxLF t xf]=== p;nfO{ gfdaf6 af]nfOg] . u|x0f nfu]sf] /ftsf] rGb|df gc:tfpFb} p;nfO{ af]nfOG5 . efUojtL=== ca p7 Û afª\uf] l6ª\uf] u/]/ aUg] vf]nf] 5]ps} au/df ;';]nL xfjf;Fu xlNng] s]xL ‰ofD6f sfF;x¿ h;n] pm skfn xNnfpFb} p7\5] r'krfk Û / g'xfpF5] . laxfg rf/ ah] . pm af]N5] lgSs} ;'lsnf] efsfdf . t/ cfh r'krfk lxF8\5] ;fFr} km'n h:t} t 5] pm . x]/ t Û
150 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Temple Where Bomb Blasts ■ Jayanta Sokal
Only sometimes is he called By her name She is called before The moon in the eclipsed night. Bhagyabati …. Now, get up ! And she gets up As if the flowing river in zigzag The reeds shaking with wind She gets up ruffling her hair Silent she gets up Takes a bath at four o’clock .
She speaks in very melodious voice But walks today in silence She is almost like a flower Look at her !
What is the difference ? Do you remember last year ? The same color was in bloom.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 151 Tof] s] km/s b]V5f} < cl3Nnf] jif{ ofb 5 < o:t} /ª km'n]sf] lyof] . cfh p;sf] efsn 5 . of] dlGb/df k/]jf p8fpg] . cfh efUojtL 5 jif{sL k'uL k/]jf lIflthlt/ p8\5g\ . x]5]{ b"/lt/ . ;fob k/]jf csf]{ dlGb/df kf] a:5g\ ls Û Tof] dlGb/ t kf]xf]/ g} ad k8\s]/ 9n]sf] lyof] To;}df t k/]sf lyP efUojtLsf afcfdf . t/ of] s'/f tL k/]jfnfO{ yfxf 5}g / efUojtLnfO{ klg Û clg Û b]z s;/L yfxf kfpF5 / < b]z t efUojtLsf] kf]xf]/ hGd]sf] efO xf] .
yf]Sn'ª– %, t]x|y'd xfn M hfkfg
152 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Today she has kept a vow In that temple To fly some pigeons.
Today Bhagyabati is six years old The pigeons fly towards the horizon She glances at the distance Perhaps the pigeons land on another temple ! That temple crumbled by the bomb blast last year Her parents were blown up in the same casualty But Bhagyabati does not know that Neither do the pigeons.
How the country then knows ? As is Bhagyabati’s brother Who was born last year !
Thoklung_5, Tehrathum At present : Japan
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 153 lrgfcf}F g]kfnnfO{ ;+;f/df hfgsL u'?ª d]/f] Kof/f] cfFugLnfO{ afWotfsf] kfOnfn] 5f8]sf] Tof] lbg ;DemFb} clg ;kgLnfO{ k5\ofpFb} cfO k'u]sL 5', gf}nf] ;+;f/df, ;ª\3if{sf] ;fyn] dfq cfh b]zk|]dsf] cld6 efjgfn] cfh g]kfnL klxrfg / cl:dtfsf] cleofgdf afFlr /x]sL 5' Ps Pgcf/Pg eP/ . cfdfsf] sf]v, l5d]ssf] ;xf/f ltdLn] 6]s]sf] w/tL / x's]{ a9]sf] cfFug /Lltlylt ;+:sf/, g]kfnL dgx¿ hf]8\b} ltdL klg t /dfO /x]5f} clg agfPsf klg 5f} g]kfnL ;dfh xfdL ;a}sf] pxL t xf] lg kl/j]z lsgls ltdL klg t Pgcf/Pg xf} .
;kgfnfO{ k'/f ug{, ;Gtltsf] pHofnf] klxNofpg sxfF dfq k'u]sf 5}gf}F, s] s;'/ afFsL /fv]sf 5f}F / <
154 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Let’s introduce Nepal to the World Janaki Gurung
Leaving the dearest of my yard, Being compelled to make a departure , Remembering and following the dream, I am here in the wonderland Only purged in struggle today And poised with boundless love of patriotic feeling In the campaign of Nepali identity and integrity I am living As an NRN.
The mother’s womb and neighbor’s help The treaded land by you and yard where you grew The rituals and customs , connecting Nepali feelings You , too, are enjoying And also have made Nepali society We all have the same background As you, too, are NRN.
To accomplish the dream and in searching Light for offspring You have reached everywhere, what is left unturned? Efforts are still underway
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 155 oTg hf/L 5, cj;/ / r'gf}tLsf kxf8x¿ l5rf]Nb} dft[e"ldsf] s;d vfP/ slt ldlxg]t u/]sf 5f}F s;}nfO{ elg /xg k5{ / < ;fdflhs w/ftn Pp6} xf] ;a}sf] lsg ls xfdL ;a} Pgcf/Pg g} t xf}F . hxfF 5' d ToxfF, hGd]sf] df6f]sf] ;'jf; 5g{ tNnLg 5' dnfO{ ljZjf; 5, ltdL klg t zflGtsf] uLt ufO /x]5f} ToxfF ;u/dfyf, a'4, e[s'6L / hgssf] ;Gb]z km}nfpg pgLx¿ klg hf]/ann] h'6]sf 5g\ /] oqtq hf] hxfF 5g\ d/L d]6]/ nfu]s} x'g' k5{ Odfg hdfgdf klg zª\sf ul/ /xg' k5{ / < lsgls ;a}sf] dg t g]kfnL g} xf] . t}klg eGg} k5{, ;Demfpg} k5{ PsfwnfO{ hf] e'N5g\ cfˆgf] df6f] / ;+:s[lt clg b]zk|]dnfO{ hGde"ld 5f8]sf] k|x/nfO{ clg st{Jo / cefjsf] lzIffnfO{ k/fOsf] cfFugdf a;]/ wf/]xft nfpg]nfO{ :jfledfgsf] lnnfd ug]{x¿nfO{ ltgnfO{ 3[0ffn] x}g, lt/:sf/n] x}g k|]d / ;+;u{n], bof / cflz/jrgn] ckgTj / df6f];Fusf] ;fOgf] hf]l8 lbg' kb{5 xfdLn] Pgcf/Pgsf] cfbz{ / efjn] .
/ kf] a]lNhod Nxf];f/do x'Fbf l;8\gLdf tfnL aHb5 6f]lsof]df ah]sf] kGr}afhfn] d:sf]nfO{ t/ª\lut t'NofpF5 o's]df hd]sf] bf]xf]/Ln] o'P; k'nlst x'G5 clg ldl8n O:6sL r]nLsf] rLTsf/n] ;+;f/nfO{ ?jfO lbG5 dn]l;ofsf] cft{gfbn] ;a}nfO{ cfqmf]z hufpF5 cyf{t\ k|jf;;Fu} ?G5, ;Fu} xfF:5
156 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Toppling the mountains of opportunities and challenges Taking the oath of the mother land You have perpetuated your effort Who else does not know it ? We have the same social ground As we are all NRN. I am here Desperately engaged in spreading The sublime soil of the country I am assured That you are singing the songs of peace there To extend the messages of Sagarmatha, Buddha, Bhrikuti and Janak they, too, are engrossed everywhere Everyone is abreast with the work Should we doubt their honesty and faith ? For everyone’s feeling is Nepali .
But few should be reminded Those who forget the soil, the culture, and Patriotic feeling The moment they have left their motherland And then responsibility and the scarcity of education Those who curse the land by living abroad Those who put the auction of the selfesteem Not by hatred or despise But by love and association and good wishes Their affinity with the soil must be entwined With the lofty ideals of NRN.
And so When Belgium is full of Lhosar The clapping bursts in Sydney And the play five musical instruments in Tokyo
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 157 / ;Fu};Fu} ;ª\sNk klg u5{ d'xfg ;ª\nf] agfpg, ;d[l4sf] 9f]sf p3fg{ Pgcf/Pgsf] d"ndGq hKb} . xfd|f] kfOtfnf plePsf] 5 hxfF ToxfF g]kfnsf] :jfledfg pleg' kb{5 ;w}F xfd|f] lz/ 7l8Psf] 5 hxfF ToxfF ;u/dfyf 7l8g' kb{5 ;w}F xfd|f xftx¿ ;NanfPsf 5g\ hxfF ToxfF g]kfnl;tsf] ldqtf hf]l8g' kb{5 ;w}F xfd|f cfjfhx¿ u'GhG5g\ hxfF ToxfF zflGtsf] jf0fL k|ltWjlgt x'g' kb{5 ;w}F+ Pgcf/Pgsf cfbz{x¿ afFlr /xg' kb{5 ;w}F ;w}F .
lrtjg xfn M a]lNhod
158 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Charge those living in Moscow The Dohari songs in the UK mesmerize Those in the USA And the wailing stories in Malaysia Resent everyone And so the Diaspora wails together And together it bursts in laughter.
To make the origin pure and To open the avenue of prosperity The NRN should chant the main maxim.
Wherever our feet stand There should erect the esteem of the country Wherever our heads erect The Sagarmatha should stand there Wherever our hands are stirred The friendship bond should be linked Wherever our voices sound The peaceful expressions should dwell Thus the loft notions of NRN should prevail !
Chitawan Present : Belgium
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 159 qf;df lhGbuL ■ hfg' sfDafª lnª\\b]g
;kgf /fd|f] ePg cem} dgaf6 8/ uPg cem} sxfF 5g\ s] ub}{ 5g\ cfkmGt ;Dem]/ lgb nfu]g cem} s'ga]nf cfpF5 e'OFrfnf] km]l/ s;}nfO{ yfxf ePg cem} . w]/} g} sfFk]5 sf7df8f}F ;x/ 9n]sf] w/x/f p7]g cem} x/fPsf] 5f]/f] ge]6]kl5 9n]sL cfdf lapFltgg\ cem} . cfdfsf] k'sf/ g;'g]/ xf]nf wtL{n] sfFKg 5f8]g cem} ;Gtfgsf] lrGtf nfu]/} xf]nf au]sf] cfF;' /f]lsPg cem} . e"sDk;Fu} 9n]sf] 3/sf] ememNsf] cfpg 5f8]g cem}
160 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Life in Fear ■ Janu Kambang Ligden
The dream is not yet good As fear is not gone from the mind.
Where are the kinfolks Cannot sleep by remembering When the earthquake strikes Nobody is yet pretty sure.
Kathmandu quakes a lot Theilapidated Dharahara never erects As the lost child is not found The mother is not awaken yet.
Perhaps the wailing words Of the mother unheard yet The earth never stops quaking The worries of babies Cannot stop pouring of tears.
The decrepit house due to the quake Is not still out of the memory
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 161 czflGt x'G5 ;f]r]/ dnfO{ of] dgsf] qf; 36]g cem} . slxn];Dd xf] b'Mv vKg] s;}nfO{ yfxf ePg cem} ;kgf /fd|f] ePg cem} dgaf6 8/ uPg cem} .
a]nfot
162 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I am not still at peace Engrossed in fear.
How long agony would persist Nobody is pretty sure As the dream is not so good And the fear is not gone yet.
At present : Belayat
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 163 rf]6 ■ Hof]lt s]= >]i7 rf]6af6 g} knfpF5g\ ;Defjgfx¿ olb h/f 5f8]sf] 5}g eg] 7f]Ss/kl5 g} v'N5g\ r]tgfsf 9Ssgx¿ olb Odfg / Ov xf/]sf] 5}g eg] . lgolt ef]Ug' wd{ xf] xfd|f] rf]vf] lgot sd{ xf] /fd|f] ;xg]x¿ xfb}{gg\ slxn] cxª\sf/L / c;lxi0f' xf5{g\ a? . dfof t s]jn leIff xf] kfpGh]n;DdnfO{ Gofgf] xf] rf]6 g} hLjgsf] x/]s kndf lxF8\g l;sfpg] lzIff xf] . g?s'g\ lxDdltnf kfOnfx¿ gyfs'g\ ;sf/fTds ;f]+rx¿ yfs'g\ a? tL rf]6 lbg] s'8f ss{6 vf]6x¿ .
164 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Pain ■ Jyoti K. Shrestha
The pain breeds possibilities If the root is not at loose After the bitter experiences open up New consciousness If honesty and resolve are not lost.
We are meted to bear destiny The pure attitude is our workmanship They don’t lose those who endure But those lose Who are intolerant and egoistic.
Love is simply alms Warmth it has till is received But pain is persistent in moments A guiding light to push walking ahead .
Let the daring paces not fade Let not the positive thought falter Let those blistering wounds falter Which breed pain.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 165 lhGbuL t kf7zfnf xf] afFr'Gh]n ;ayf]s l;Sg' k5{ lhpFbf] dfG5] afFRg] xf] eg] rf]6df klg d':s'/fpg' k5{ . d/]/ hfnf of] xf85fnf cfTdf t slxn] db}{g knfpF5 ;Defjgf rf]6df h/fn] ha;Dd 5f8\b}g .
a]lNhod
166 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Life is the school Where we are to learn Everything till the last breath And the alive ones should smile Even in desperate pain.
The physical body defuncts But never the soul The possibilities thrive in pain Until the root is not at loose.
Belgium
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 167 d[To'kqsf] td;'s ■ 6+s jg]d o'4 d[To' xf] xfg]{x¿sf nflu o'4 ljho xf] lhTg]x¿sf nflu ToxLF xf/ lhtsf nflu o'4 eof]÷x'Fb} 5 / x'g] 5 ;fob, ToxL lg/Gt/tfsf nflu o'4 d/]g slxNo} hfUof] Oiof{sf] vnfdf o'4sf] tf08j g[To gfRb} /dfof] o'4kf]tsf] an]F;Ldf . cflv/ s]xf] t o'4 < s] d[To'sf] df]x eª\u xf]Og eg] d[To'sf] alnbfg xf] t o'4 Oltxf; eG5 o'4 hGd]sf] lyof] pm d/]g slxNo} o'4sf hGtLx¿n] vgvgfP ;ª\lugsf] ltvf] wf/ aGb'ssf] df]xf]/L ;f]‰ofpFb} dfG5]x¿n] dfG5]x¿sf] 6fpsf] tfs] .
168 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Bond Paper of Death ■ Tanka Wanem
The war is death for the vanquished ones The war is victory for the winner ones.
The war takes place for the same Victory and loss And will take place Perhaps for this perseverance The war never was dead And it prevails in the granary of jealousy The death of war dances Coddles in the mast of warships.
What is the war by the way? If death is not detachment from affectation Is war sacrifice of death ?
History accounts War was just born It was never dead The followers of war Poured sharp razor of gloomy fates
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 169 dfgj ;Eotfn] pEofPsf Wj:t lsNnfaf6 cf]n]{/ o'4 /f]Sg' k5{ elgP klg o'4 slxNo} /f]lsPg a? clUn /Xof] cfsfz h:t} alu /x]], /utsf gfOn gbLx¿ /fj0f xfF;f] xfF:b} u/L /x] ljZjo'4sf g/;+xf/x¿ lvTsf 5f8]/ ahfO{ /Xof] d[To'sf] l;DkmfgL afhf ;DejtM Tof] d[To'sf] afhf alh /xg] 5 cgGt o'u o'u;Dd ul/ /xg] 5g\ dfG5]x¿ d'To'sf] dxfo'4 ofqf .
ToxL o'4sf] dnfdL eP/ k'u]sf] lyPF d[To'sf] td;'s n]Vg o'4 d}bfg pkm\ Û aGb'ssf afhfx¿ slt a]:jflbnf lyP sxfF x'G5 / < dGqd'Uw w'g h:tf] sxfF x'G5 / < dg / d'6' 5'g] ;f/ª\uLsf] :j/ h:tf] sxfF 5l/G5g\ / < v';L / pdª\usf /ªx¿ gx'Fbf] /x]5 To:tf] pNnf; s;}nfO{ dfg{ ul/g] o'4sf] cla/ hfqf .
170 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Pointing the guns towards The men and their heads.
Even if it is thought to be stopped By getting down From the divested castles raised By human civilization The war never paused But it erected as tall as the sky The Niles of blood started spewing Rawans began laughing in sneer The carnage of the World Wars Were being played in the symphony of jeer.
Perhaps, The symphony would prolong Years after years And people would keep on Making the journey of wars!
As the funeral member of the war To write a bond paper of death Alas ! How nasty are the musical notations of the guns How can it be the music of violin To infuse heart and mind ? How could the colors of Excitement and happiness pervade In the celebration of victory When it is meant to kill others ?
But still On the forehead of history
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 171 t/} klg Oltxf;sf] k'k'{/f]df OdfGbf/Lsf] lbof] afNb} ;x]/ ;of}F 3fpx¿n] b'Mvsf] lxdfn cUNofO /Xof] s;}sf] OR5f adf]lhd OdfGbf/Lsf] kxf8 cf]ln{ /Xof] / km}ln /Xof] cfsfz / wtL{sf] ;fd|fHo km}nfj6 . s] yfxf < cfˆg} d[To'n] cfˆg} a}F;sf kxf8x¿ eTsfPsf x'g\ cfˆg} wtL{ efl;Psf] xf] cfˆg} d[To'sf afhfx¿n] lwt d?Gh]n nªl;G;sf] ;ª\uLt eb}{ d[To'sf] k6fª\lugLdf lwt d?~h]n xfF;]sf] xf] .
ToxL o'4sf] kfq hf] o'4 d}bfgdf 9ln ;s]kl5 p;sf cfkmGtx¿n] emfg{ gkfpg] cfF;'sf] l9sf Pp6f x'nfsLn] k'¥ofPsf] lrÝLsf e/df Rjf6\6 r'Fl8g] /ftf] wfuf] lrxfgsf] 5]pdf pe]/ kmfNg gkfpg] d§Lsf] 8Nnf / d'6' ufF7f] kfb}{ k'l5g] hLjg ;FlugLsf] lz/sf] l;Gb"/ ToxL lgolt ef]Ug ePsf] lyPF nfx'/] .
172 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf To spread by light of honesty Bearing thousands of wounds The mountains of agonies got erected And as accordance of others’ wish The mountains of honesty declined And the hegemony expanded Till it reached the sky And towards the expansive land.
Who knows? Own’s death The mountains of puberty got crumbled And lands got submerged And musical sounds of own’s death Infusing the music of long notation On the threshold of death Laughed till heart content.
The warrior After his collapse in the war His fellow warriors’ unshed tear Was posted through a letter by a postman Which then broke the conjugal ties By standing in front the dead body The unslung lump of soil In inconsolable grief Rubbing his spouse’s marital bond I became soldier To bear the same destiny!
My goodness! The war field spared And The moments eschewing
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 173 wGo Û o'4 d}bfgn] l;ª\u} paf¥of] / cfˆg} d[To'af6 pDs]sf If0fx¿ csf]{ hGd lnP/ hGd]sf 5g\ cfkm}nfO{ eGg dg nfu]sf] 5 x] nfx'/] Û ltdL afFRof} ca ;ª\lugsf] vgvgfO{ / uf]nf af?bx¿sf cg'e"ltx¿ d[To'kqsf] td;'s agfP/ cfˆg} a'9L cf}Fnfn] n]Kr] 7f]Sg' kb{5 ls ca s;}sf] lhGbuL o'4 d}bfgdf aGbsL g/flvof];\ .
a]nfot
174 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Have become new births I now wish to say Hey, soldier You survived from all these Nostalgic experience of Warfare of shots and shells By making the bond paper of death Putting the thumb impression on it Lest nobody’s life Is pawned in the war field !
At present : UK
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 175 lhGbuL ■ ltns e§/fO{ ‘cGhfg’ cfdf xh'/ 5f8]b]lv zf]sdf 5 lhGbuL of], afaf labf lnPb]lv rf]sdf 5 lhGbuL of] . wg;Fu hf]Vg vf]H5g\ 6'x'/fsf] klxrfgnfO{, km'6kfysf] d"No e}mF yf]sdf 5 lhGbuL of] . dfly hfg efUo lbGg tn emg{ dg dfGb}g, ;hfPsf] sk8f e}mF emf]sdf 5 lhGbuL of] . d]/} s'/f sf6\5g\ ;f/f d]nfkft kFw]/Ldf, b'lgofFnfO{ x;fpg] hf]sdf 5 lhGbuL of] . cfTdlg0f{o ug]{ klg clwsf/ 5}g dnfO{, kfOnf kfOnf aGb]h / /f]sdf 5 lhGbuL of] .
/fdgu/, gjnk/f;L xfn M c:6«]lnof
176 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Life ■ Tilak Bhattarai ‘Anjan’
Since you deserted, Mother, I am utterly in grief I am slumped at the crossroads since father’s biding.
People weigh identity of an orphan on wealth Life became vending goods on pavements.
Luck never favors assenting and mind never falls Life is like a cloth of whim in embroidery.
People backbite me in all the public rendezvous Life is a joke for all to laugh.
I even don’t have right to self-decision, For my life is ambushed in each step.
Ram Nagar, Nawalparasi At present : Australia
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 177 d]/L cfdfsf] lghL{j tl:a/ ■ tLy{/fh a/fn -;fg' k'gf6f/]_
:tAw 5' d]/f] ddtfsf] kvf{n un{Dd} 9Nof] ca d hLjgsf] s'g} If0f klg yfFu|f] aGg ;lQmgF . cfFvf la;fpFbf :tg lgrf]/]/ zLtntf lbg] 3fF6L vFul/bf xQ g kQ :g]xn] nfd6f] t]:of{O lbg] dnfO{ lrNofP/ em8\sf lbP/ daf6 n'5]/ nUof] . d]/f] Åboaf6 pn{bf] t'kmfgn] d]/f] a]un] km'6\g] cfF;'n] Pskn klg /f]Sg ;s]g s]jn clGtd e]6sf] :y"n 5ftLsf] e]/L NofKr] dfq d]/f] nflu z]if /Xof] . ca d]/f] ef]s d]/f] ltvf{ / d]/f] ;'/Iffsf] sjhsf] lhDd]bf/L
178 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf My Mother’s Lifeless Picture ■ Tirtha Raj Baral (Sanu Punatare)
Perplexed I am My wall fell apart I won’t be a support any more.
She was one who In eye sore Was trickling drops off breasts And in parched thirst Was ever ready to insert her Supple breasts into my mouth in caress But the cruel destiny seized her away, Putting me into a great bafflement.
Neither the teriffic cyclone of my heart Nor the overflowing tears Did stop her for a second And only the physical entity In the last meeting remained Which was left on her bosom!
My hunger and my thirst My defense shield and responsibility
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 179 pg}sf] lghL{j tl:a/nfO{ ;hLjtfdf ablnP/ d}n] lhpg k5{ . dnfO{ ;'af6f]df 8f]¥ofpg] cAan bhf{sf] kx/]bf/ d]/f] lg/;tfdf :kz{n] dfq} klg ubub v';Ln] r'Nofpg] hfb'lu/L zlQmsf] a]ugf;] tn}of daf6 n'l6Psf] 5 ;bf ;bfsf nflu d]/f] afFsL w'sw'sL pgLaf6 x:tfGtl/t OGwgn] d rNg' k5{ . hlGdFbfsf] ;fngfn 5'6\ofP e}mF dnfO{ pgLaf6 5'6\ofPsf] 5 pgsf] s]jn k|ltljDa dfq d]/f] Åboel/ vftdfly vft kf/L d]/f] lry¥ofO{ kx/fO{sf] s'g} Ohnf;df ;'gjfO x'g]jfnf 5}g . d}n] /f]bg / 56k6fx6sf] eLdsfofdf r'n'{Dd} 8'a] klg lgb{oL odsf] dg knfpg] b[i6fGt slxn] ;'g]sf] / kfPsf] 5'OgF s]jn d}n] pgsf] lghL{j tl:a/leq} ;hLjtfsf] /ª lbg' k5{ . d]/f] kfv'/Lsf] k|;fbnfO{ ubub x'Fb} :ofaf;L ;lxtsf] cd"No r'Dag d]/f] efjgfel/ RjfSs RjfSssf] cfjfh cem} u'GhFb} 5 .
180 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Her lifeless picture In changing into life I have to live.
To lead me in the right path As the best guide In my dejection Caressing me to be excessively happy As if it were magical hue of lake Seized from me forever And my beating throb Is run by transferred engine from here.
As placenta is separated from womb She is separated from me Her image is only wrought in my chest Compiled in stack My wailing and screaming Would not be responded by any plea.
In moan and nervousness Even if I am drenched I have not heard so far The cruel king of Death Will not be appeased I am required to enliven her lifeless Picture with colorful life.
The proffer on my arms In the poised kiss with contentment Of praise Is resounding in sucking of the nipples!
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 181 d]/f] gfgf] / afx|v/Lsf] l;nf]6 ;lxtsf] emf]nf] pgs} x:tn] d]/f] kfv'/Ldf l5/fP/ kf7zfnf 8f]¥ofPsf] d]/f] cf}FnL pgs} xftdf cem} em'lG8/x]sf] cg'e"t cem} tfhuL 5 . kfgL ljxLgsf] df5f] 56k6fP e}mF d k|r08 tfkdf laR5t ePsf] 5' t/ of] lg/fwf/ ag]sf] 5 d]/f] lha/Ln] pgs} :tgsf] d'G6f] Roflk /x]sf] ;kgL ePsf] 5 . s]jn d}n] ToxL lghL{j tl:a/sf] ;dLktfdf ;hLjtfsf] /; lbO{ afFsL k|f0f l;Wofpg' k5{ . cfh d]/f] ;Dk"0f{tf pgs} lghL{j tl:a/leq vf]Hg' k5{ o;}df 3'Sof{pg', ysfpg' lbSs nufpg' l;jfo d k"0f{ l/lQPsf] 5' .
Sofg8f
182 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com My small bag with the slate During the beginning years at school And her hands to set bag on my arm Then clinging to her index finger Is still fresh.
I am now desperately irked As if I were fish in the scorching heat And it has been helpless Though my tongue still resounds With the mesmerized nipple in dream.
I have to live with The lifeless picture In effort to enliven it Till the last breath And I have to seek the wholeness of mine In her picture.
I am utterly empty Except the grumble, frustration, and Emaciation.
Canada
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 183 bfh' ;lxb, efph" k/b]zL ■ tLy{ ;ª\ud /fO{ klxnf] jif{— otf vf8Ldf bfh} kl;gf a]R5 vl/b u5{ s]xL yfg lhG;L ;kgf / vh'/sf] af]6 x]/]/ ef]s d]6\5 . ptf vf]6fªdf efph" r'Nxf]df pdflN5g\ a]/ª\u kfgL;Fu} bfh}sf] ;Demgf ;Qf];/fk ul5{g\ z"Go /ftnfO{ gfgLx¿ cfFvfel/ ;hfpF5g\ b;}Fsf nflu gofF n'uf / b]Vg yfN5g\ dfjnL hfg] ;3g af6f] .
Psjif{kl5— kl;gf ;'s]sf] 5 bfh}sf] z/L/df Xjf:; uGxfpF5 O/fgL dfs]{6sf] krf; l/ofn kg]{ cQ/ skfn h]nn] 7f8f] kf/]sf] 5 cfFvfdf gSsnL /]jg r:df
184 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Brother is a Martyr- His Wife an Emigrant ■ Tirth Sangam Rai
In the first year The brother sells his sweat And purchases some credit dreams And satisfies hunger by looking at the date tree.
There in Khotang His sister in law is boiled in the hearth The memory of brother drizzles like rain Curses the dark night And the babies decorate dreams of new clothes Starts thinking of the path Towards their maternal uncle.
After a year - The sweat of the brother dries And there comes scent of Iranian Perfume of fifty Rial His hair is erected with gel And eyes are clasped in Ray wan gals After sending the money for Sakela feast A bitten apple in his hand.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 185 ;fs]nf vr{ k'Ug] /sd xfn]/ lsg]sf] xftdf h'7f] :ofp 5 . ptf vf]6fªdf— efph"sf] gfsdf a'nfsL em'lG8Psf] 5 unfdf k'tnL kx]Fn} tf]/Laf/L ePsf] cfª gfgLx¿sf gfsdf cem} l;Fufgsf] 8f]a 5 cefj / ul/aLn] 8]/f ;f/]sf] 5 . bfh} clxn]— vf8Ldf g]tf ePsf] 5 efif0f u5{ x/]s z'qmaf/ ;/sf/sf] ;ft k':tfnfO{ k'Ug] c;Eo ufnL u5{ slxn] u0ftGq / ;ª\3Lotfsf] slxn] cv08 g]kfnsf] s'/f u5{ Tolt dfq sxfF xf] / clxn] t /fHo;Fu ;f]em} b]z dfU5 . km]l/Psf] 5 efph"sf] k'/} x'lnof l;wf kf/]sL 5g\ 3'ª\lu|Psf] s]z kw]F/f] 3/sf] r'Nxf] 5]p cfxfn v]N5 kml/of rf]nL dfOt lxF8]sf 5g\ x/]s /ft cf]5\ofgdf Pp6f tf/f v:5 laxfgsf] zLt;u} l;Gb"/sf] /ftf] /ª\un] bfh}sf] cl:tTj vf]H5 . b'O{ jif{kl5— bfh} sf]6 6fO{df /fhwfgL em5{
186 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf There in Khotang Bulaki clings in the nose of the sister-in-law Hangs putali on her neck Her body is like the yellowish field of mustard But smut hangs into the nostril of the babies So dearth and destitute flee away.
Brother is now a politician In the valley and gives speech every Saturday To rebuke words of hatred Enough for seven generations Sometimes he speaks of republicanism Federalism and Unified Nepal sometimes What more He now demands a separate country from the nation.
Sister-in-law has changed herself a lot She has curly hair The kitchen chores are neglected She is attired in a new sari ready for maiti Every night a star falls on the bed In the dewy morning The marital bond is questioned.
After two years Brother lands on the capital In the suit and tie And the city turns a barren land He is perplexed And enters the inn bhatti, He forgets scorching heat of Arab And his wife and his babies.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 187 ;x/ phf8 eP5 bfh} cjfs x'G5 ;fFemkv afuahf/sf] e6\6L l5/]kl5 bfh}n] la;{G5 c/asf] udL{ / vh'/sf] af]6 3/sL :jf:gL / gfgLx¿ . bfh}— ;';]Nb} k'U5 3/sf] cfFug PnPd l;u|]6 lems]/ ;NsfpF5 3/ pbf; eP5 dtfg ?Fb} 5 an];Ldf emf]qmfO /x]5g\ gfgL / ;f]W5 ;fgL 5f]/LnfO{ æcfdf stf uOg\ <Æ efph"n] cfh laxfg dfq lrD;f cfFvfdf a}F; pdfl/g\ 5f]/Lsf] glhs a;]/ elgg\ æ5f]/L kfkfnfO{ elglbg" cfdf o'j/fh ltlD;gf;Fu k/b]z uof] .Æ efph"n] 3/ 5f]8]sf] yfxf kfP/ bfh} l;ª\uf] b]z lhTg hª\un k:5 s]xL lbgkl5 /]l8of]n] ;dfrf/ km'S5 ;fK;' vf]nfsf] lsgf/df cftª\ssf/L tLy{ axfb'/ /fO{ dfl/of] .
vf]6fª, a'Okf xfn M stf/
188 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf He reaches his yard sighing Lights a brand cigarette stick His home is utterly deserted His babies are languishing When he asks his little daughter: "Where is your mother ?"
In the morning Gnawed by youthful hue in late age Sister-in-law elopes Informing her daughter a message to be told To her father "Mom is gone abroad with Yuba Raj Timsina."
The brother now is desperate To win the whole country after her elopement Enters the forest And some days later there comes news "On the bank of Sapsukhola A terrorist named Tirtha Bahadur Rai was killed."
Khotang, Buipa Now : Qatar
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 189 u0ftGq / xfdL ■ bnjL/ l;+x a/fOnL ‘3fon’ k[YjLgf/fo0fn] 6'qmf 6'qmf b]znfO{ g]kfn agfP p;nfO{ ;fd|fHojfbL eGof}F . /f0ffx¿n] b]zsf] cl:tTj arfP, pgLx¿nfO{ PstGqL eGof}F . k~rx¿nfO{ tfgfzfxL eGof}F / Nofof}F ax'bnjfb, Tof] klg km':; eof] . k6s k6s xfdL, ;ft ;fn, k}Ftfln; ;fn a};¶L÷lq;¶L ;fndf ;8sdf cfof}F, ljb|f]xsf] lau'n km'Sof}F bz jif{ xltof/ p7fof}F xhf/f}Fsf] alnbfg lbof}F To;}n] clxn] xfd|f] b]zdf u0ftGq cfPsf] 5 . cfh u0ftGq kfof}F, t/ ;Fu} a]/f]huf/ cefj / dxFuLsf] aDk/ pkxf/ k/]sf] 5 . xTof/fnfO{ /fhgLlts cfj/0fn] 5f]K5f}F lx+;f x'Fbf df}gtfn] k|f]T;fxg lbG5f}F
190 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Republicanism and We ■ Dalbir Singh Baraili "Ghayal"
Prithivi Narayan Shah unified Nepal We termed him hegemonic The Ranas saved integrity of the country We called them autocratic We gave name to Punch as tyrannical. We brought democracy Which just evaporated We came to streets in different times From the year 2007, 2045, and recently In 2062 and 2063 We trumpeted the stir of revolution We took to arms for 10 years We sacrificed thousands of lives
So, we have the republican government now But then, We are posed with unemployment Dearth and price hikes We save criminals under the garb of politics We tolerate violence by silence We safeguard embezzlers with an administrative shield
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 191 n'6kf6 ug]{nfO{ k|zf;lgs ;+/If0f x'G5 clg e|i6frf/ ug{' g]tfb]lv sd{rf/L;Ddsf] g};lu{s clwsf/ h:tf] ePsf] 5 . lsgls xfd|f] b]zdf u0ftGq cfPsf] 5 . kqsf/ b]zsf] rf}yf] cª\u < jf x'g\ kz'kltsf] gfddf 5f]l8Psf] ;fF9] < dgk/L l;ª plwGb} lxF8\5g\, sf] slt a]nf l;sf/ aG5g\ < yfxf 5}g . ;TonfO{ 5f]Kg' c;TonfO{ prfNg' dflnssf] ;]jf ug{' pgLx¿sf] st{Jo xf] t < o:t} x'G5 rf}yf] cª\usf] lhDd]jf/L < pgLx¿ lj?4 s;}n] af]Ng, n]Vg, ;Sb}g, lsgls xfd|f] b]zdf u0ftGq cfPsf] 5 . cbfntx¿df xfQLsf] k|j]zkl5 Gofo lg;fj p;}n] u5{, ;/sf/L sfof{nox¿, /fli6«o / cGt/f{li6«o u};;sf] cfb]zdf v'N5g\÷aGb x'G5g\ ljsf; s5'jf ultdf l3l;| /x]5 pT;fxljxLg / p2]Zo ljxLg . k|zf;g / b]z k|e'sf] O;f/fdf rN5, ;/sf/ d'sbz{s eP/ /ldtf x]5{, km]l/ klg xfdLn] s'g} u'gf;f] ug{' x'Gg÷u/] klg ;'lgGg . lsgls xfd|f] b]zdf u0ftGq cfPsf] 5 .
192 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf And then Corruption is our sovereign rights From leaders to administrative units Because We have a republican government now The journalists as the fourth organs of the state? Or the bulls toddling across Pashupati Swirl their hongs Nobody knows When they are strewn Is it their duty To uncover truth And disclose untruth To serve their masters ?
Is it the responsibility of the fourth state ? Nobody raises questions against them For We have now a republican government now The elephant enters the court He is sole responsible for justice Nongovernmental offices Direct government offices to open or close Development is in snail’s pace Without any enthusiasm and guideline The country and its administration is run By the instruction of unseen Providence The government is spectator But still we don’t have any grudge Since we have a republican government.
The schools and colleges Become political training centers
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 193 ljBfno / sn]hx¿n], /fhgLlts k|lzIf0f lbG5g\, a]/f]huf/ pTkfbg u5{g\ / ;/sf/nfO{ af]em x'G5 . xftdf kf;kf]6{ ydfO lbG5 cfˆg} k};fn] lnnfdL b/df a]lrG5g\ o'jf clg k'U5g\, ;fpbLsf] e]8Luf]7df stf/sf] lgdf{0f sfo{df b'aO{sf] uugr'DaL dxnsf l;;f k'5\g dn]l;ofsf] hª\undf nfdv'§];Fu ;Fu} ?g sf]l/of, hfkfg, Oh/fon, o'/f]k, cd]l/sf v]tLdf xf];\ jf snsf/vfgf xf]6ndf j]6/ xf];\ jf :6]jf8{, k'Ug afFsL st} 5}gg\ . tL dWo], efUodfgLx¿ afs;df kmls{G5g\ cefuLx¿ ;of}F 7Ss/ vfO /xG5g\ ;/sf/ /]ld6]G; lelqPsf]df dVv k5{ . lar/f, tL k|jf;Lx¿;Fu xfF:g], ?g] s'g} clwsf/ 5}g lsgls xfd|f] b]zdf u0ftGq cfPsf] 5 . ;f]rf}F Û s] oxL lyof] t xfd|f] rfxgf < o:t} a]lylt g} xf] t u0ftGq eg]sf] < xfdLn] ug{ ;Sg] s]xL 5}g t < xfdL ;fd' k|Zg} k|Zg dfq 5g\ . s] s'g} ;dfwfg 5}gg\ < kSs} klg 5g\,
194 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf And produce thronging unemployment And the government finds them burden Handing passports the promising youths Are sent to the Middle East to be shepherds As if they were put into auction And engage in rubbing window-panes In the tall buildings of Quatar And wail in the jungle of Malaysia With mosquitoes in the night Whether they are in the farm or factory Either in Korea, Japan, Europe or America Whether they are in hotels as waiters or stewards Some of them are returned in the Lucky coffins And many cursed ones are purged in agonies Whereas the government is indulged in remittance But those emigrants Have no rights to laugh and cry, For we have a republican government now.
Let’s think Is it our dream ? Is this chaos republicanism ? Cannot we do anything good enough ? We are thronged by questions Don’t we have any solutions ?
Of course there are, Some solutions to these anomalies Alone can we solve We people must be conscious We must be a watchman And should initiate good works ourselves
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 195 oL ;a} a]lyltsf] ;dfwfg s]jn xfdLn] dfq ug{ ;S5f}F, xfdL hgtf cfkm} hfu?s x'g' k5{ Û x/]s 7fpFdf va/bf/L ug{' k5{, /fd|f] sfdsf] yfngL cfkm}af6 ;'? ug{' k5{, cfTdlge{/ aGg' k5{ . d'Vo s'/f :jzfl;t -cfk"mn] cfkm}nfO{ zf;g ug{'_ x'g' k5{ . cfpg'xf];\ Û xfdL ;a} ldn]/ b]zsf af/]df ;f]rf}F, ljsf;sf af/]df ;f]rf}F zflGtsf af/]df ;f]rf}F xfdL ;a}sf] ;dfg clwsf/ 5, lsgls xfd|f] b]zdf u0ftGq cfPsf] 5 .
o'PO{
196 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Becoming selfreliant We should reign ourselves Come, Let’s think about the country And think of the country’s development And think of peace We all have equal rights Because we have now The republican government.
UAE
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 197 9Ng] 5}g d]/f] ;+:s[lt / klxrfg ■ bofs[i0f /fO{
9n]/ uof] d]/f] 3/ k'l/P ;a} d]/f kl/jf/hg / wg ;DklQ d]/f cfˆgf eGg] s]xL /x]gg\ afFsL s]jn sfF8f eP/ d'6'df lah]sf] 5 lttf] ;Demgf d]/f lkt[ k'Hg] lr08fx¿ ;a} k'l/P elTsPsf] 3/sf] eUgfjz]ifdf k'l/Psf] lrG8f]sf] laofF pld|P/ km]l/ nx/fP/ kmNg] 5 csf]{ To:t} lrG8f] lkt[ k'Hg /fv]sf] 3/leq k'l/Psf] cb'jfsf] 6';f knfpg] 5 e'OFrfnf]af6 ar]sf] d PSnf] x]R5fs'Kkf lrG8f] / cb'jfsf] 6';f r9fP/ d[tfTdfx¿sf] lr/ zflGtsf] sfdgf ug]{ 5' cflbd sfnb]lv h;/L lkt[ k'h]sf lyof}F To;/L g} lg/Gt/ lkt[ k'Hg] 5' ToxL gofF lrG8f] / cb'jfsf] 6';faf6 d]/f] cl:tTjsf] :tDe lgdf{0f x'g] 5
198 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf My Culture and Identity will not Fall ■ Daya Krishna Rai
My house collapsed My family members and properties All got buried Nobody was left belonging to me Only bitter memory pricks into the heart.
My ancestral praying chindo plant buried In that dilapidated house The seeds of the plant In bloom and foliage Will have another chindo The ginger plant will sprout In the ancestral prayer house.
The lone me After the strik of the earthquake By offering ginger plants and chindo I pray for the departed souls I will pray them for ever From this new chindo and ginger plant My identity will be formed as a tower
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 199
web source:www.khasskhass.com e'OFrfnf]n] 9fn]/ d]/f] 3/ elTsP klg 9Ng] 5}g slxNo} klg d]/f] cl:tTjsf] :tDe elTsg] 5}g slxNo} klg d]/f] ;+:s[lt / klxrfg
a]nfot
200 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Though my house got collapsed The tower of my identity will not fall And not fall my culture and identity. UK
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 201 cf] Û ;fyL ■ lbnb'vL hGt/] cf] Û ;fyL of}6f ;fyLsf lglDt lsg /R5f} sf]tkj{ Û Åbob]lv g} dfg]sf] 5' t c;n ldq lsg hufpg vf]H5f} hª\u axfb'/ ;]x] . cf] Û ;fyL dfg]{ g} eP dnfO{ yflk lbG5' uw{g xfg, df/, aln r9fpm ltd|f] kfkL dg dlGb/df k'/f u/ dgf]sfª\Iff efsn l5gfpm . cg]s hfn g/r cg]s h'lQm gnufpm s;/L l;Wofpg] egL d afFr]/ ltdLx¿nfO{ cK7\of/f] ef] eg]
202 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Oh! Friend ■ Dildukhi Jantare
Oh friend Why you plot a snare of kotaparba massacre From the core of the heart I regard you my friend Why you arouse Cruel fit of Janga Bahadur !
Oh friend If you wish to kill I set myself And kill me offer me as scapegoat Fulfill your wish of your mind And behead me.
Don’t plot snares Don’t find ruse So as to finish me If I become obstacle by living And if you get peace of my dying I am ready to die Get ready with a sword
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 203 d d/]/ ltdLx¿nfO{ zflGt ldN5 eg] d clxn] dlb{G5' ;fyLsf] OR5f k'/f u/]/ t/af/ lgsfn xfg yflk lbPsf] 5' uw{g / lkpm /ut . clws ldNg] axfgfdf yflk /xG5f} hfn p;} t lgoltn] hfndf kf/]sf] dfG5] ljZjf;sf] lav lknfP/ lsg dfg{ rfxG5f} t8\kfO{ t8\kfO{ p;} t lav lknfO ;s]sf] 5 lhGbuLn] cfˆg} ;fyLdfly lsg s'7f/f3ft xF < lk|o ldq, cflv/ lsg < olQsf] hfnem]n of}6f ;fyLsf] gf]s/L vf]:g of}6f ;fyLsf] v';L vf]:g of}6f ;fyLsf] ufF; vf]:g of}6f ;fyLsf] Odfg vf]:g lsg < k|Zgn] ul/ /x]sf] 5 k|ltk|Zg dnfO{ . clt ef] clt ca ;xGg d ltd|f] xftaf6 l7s olta]n} dfl/g rfxG5' t/af/ p7fpm ;fyL Ps ;fyLsf] sf/0f
204 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I will set my throat And you drink blood.
You stalk snares, Wishing to get more As already I am snared by my destiny Why you want to kill By torturing As my life has given me a poison to drink Why are you besetting in treachery?
Why my dear friend You full of deceitfulness To grab another friend’s job To grab another friend’s happiness To grab another friend’s gulp of food Why ? The question asks me a question.
Now it is too much I cannot tolerate any more I want to be killed by you Get your sword ready As I want to let you peace By sacrificing myself Kill me right now. The eternal truth of death Only differs in time If I die before the fate And will have peace By fulfilling your wish I have not least fear.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 205 csf]{ ;fyLsf] lgGb|f x/fd gxf];\ hLjge/ r'sr'sfpg' gk/f];\ ;a lbnfO lbG5' d'lQm dfl/b]pm dnfO{ . d[To' zfZjt ;To l9nf]rfF8f] dfq km/s n]vfGteGbf clns rfF8f] of}6f ;fyLsf] OR5f k'/f u/]/ d[To' j/0f ubf{ klg t zflGt ldNnf clnslt klg 8/fPsf] 5}g ltd|f] OR5f k'/f ug{ cf] Û ;fyL yflk lbPsf] 5' uw{g lgsfn a]Odfgsf] bfkaf6 Oiof{sf] wfl/nf] t/af/ xfg, dg{ tof/ 5' . s[kof em'SofP/ gdf/ dfg{ gvf]h ;a}n] kfpg' k5{ afFRg cf] Û ;fyL .
xfn M dn]l;of
206 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Oh my friend I have set my throat Take out your sword of jealousy From the rapier of treachery Strike ,I am ready to die.
Don’t kill by trick Everybody needs to live Oh my friend.
Present : Malesia
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 207 xªsª ;x/ ■ bLkf PjfO{ /fO{ d}n] x/]s kN6 PDa'n]G;sf] ;fO/g;Fu of] ;x/ cflTtP/ bf}l8PsL b]v]sL 5' d}n] k|To]s bdsnsf] cfjfhdf of] ;x/ t8\lkPsf] b]v]sL 5' 7fpF–7fpFdf of] ;x/sf] 3fp b]Vg ;lsG5 clGtd k|xf/df hSsL Sna lSnlgsn kl/;/ nfOg nfu]/ a:g] tL ´'qf, d}nf /f]uL dfG5]x¿ of] ;x/sf] rf]6 xf] xf] Û of] xªsª ;x/ b'Mv]sf] 5 To;}n] d ljlIfKt 5' . oL ;fF´ laxfg lbg / /ftx¿df of] ;x/el/ slt xf] slt c;Gtf]if / cefjsf u'gf;fx¿sf kf]sf
208 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Hong Kong City ■ Deepa Ewai Rai
I have seen this city frequently, Running behind the ambulance siren I have seen it languishing In every noise of the fire brigade.
The wounds of the city can be seen In different places In the last moments The queuing of people in Jakki Club And in clinical areas In rags and tattered clothes Are wounds of the city.
The Hong Kong city is in pain I am greatly annoyed .
In mornings or evenings Days and nights The packets of dearth and grudges Are slumped into dumping sites At Chenango.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 209 hf] y'lk|P/ 8'ª\u'/ ePsf] 5 r'ª\usfgf] 8lDkª ;fO8df b'u{lGwt eP/ To;/L g} ljzfn ;8s k'n d'lGt/ of] ;x/ la/fdL e}mF 7]pnf;/L n8]sf] b]Vg ;lsG5 3/ljxLg czSt hL0f{ cw{kfunx¿n] of] xªsª ;x/nfO{ tyfgfd ufnL ul/ /xFbf d nHhfaf]wn] lgx'l/ /xG5' . lj1fkgsf] xf]l8ª af]8{sf] h'n'; 5 ;8shfd u?Fnf e}mF u/]/ cUnf cUnf lalN8ªx¿ plePsf 5g\ To;} u/L d plePsL 5' eL8x¿ df´ of] ;x/sf rf]6x¿df 3fpx¿df dndk6\6L afFWg a? Û cfpm ltdL klg Tof] nfnrfsf] SofG;/df of] zLnflhtsf] n]kg nufpg .
–xªsª
210 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Foul smelling scent Under the big zebra crossing It is seen This city is sprawled As if sick with smallpox The homeless mad people To shout against this city In this decrepit condition I hand my head in shame.
The advertisement hoards As though they were jamming roads The skyscrapers stand I stand the same way Amidst the crowds.
Come here to cleanse the wounds With bandage Let the cancer of temptation Be filled with shilajit ointment.
Hong Kong
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 211 gf]:6fnlhofdf efO6Lsf ■ bLkf /fO{ k'g
;okqL, dvdnL / uf]bfj/L oxfF klg p:t} /ª\un] dgnfO{ 5f]P/} km'N5 cfFvfdf a;]/} v'N5 km]l/ klg d cfˆgf] /}yfg] ;'uGw e]6\lbgF ltxf/sf] /demd kfpFlbgF xf6 ahf/sf] le8df efO6Lsfsf] ;fdfg lsGg' lyof] dfbnsf] tfn / ‰ofp/] w'g ;'Gg' lyof] oxfFsf] k'mn j0f{zª\s/ /] lkmsf 5 oxfFsf] hLjg h:t} . dgdf u8]/ ;DemG5' d}n] af6f]el/ e]6]sf] d':sfg xfO{, l:j6L, xgL, l8o/ ljgf/;sf zAbx¿ a;, kfs{, 6'g htftt} v'n]sf tL cg'xf/ klg
212 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Bhai Tika on Nostalgia ■ Deepa Rai Pun
Sayapatri, Makhmali, and Godavari flowers All bloom here in the same way Attracting my heart In the same color In the eyes But I don’t find the pure tragrance As there in my land in it I don’t find the same Festivity as in my land.
I needed shopping for Tihar I wished to hear the music of Madal Wished to hear the local folk songs The flowers here are hybrid Like the human beings.
I ruminate over the smiles On the roads Sweetie, Honey, Dear Which have no feelings in them The lit faces met in
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 213
web source:www.khasskhass.com cfw'lgstf / Jo:ttfsf] ld>0f eP/ l7dfxf xfF;f] kf] /}5 hxfF s'g} ckgTj 5}g . x]bf{ ;'Gb/ nfUg] leqsf] vf]qmf] sxfF hfGg' / < ltxf/sf] ;'uGw of] k|jf;df sxfF e]6\g' / < ;DaGw, ;fOgf], cfkmGt ef}ltstfdf x'ls{g]nfO{ s] yfxf < hxfF lbnsf] 7]ufg 5}g of] a]va/ df};d sfdsf] e/f];f 5}g . d eg] ;]n/f]6Lsf] ;Demgf k'mnsf] af:gf / dfOtLsf] ofb ul/ /x]5' o; j]nf oxfF .
yfgsf]6, sf7df8f}F xfn M cd]l/sf
214 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Bus park or station Mixed in hectic modernity Reflect artificial smile Where there is no sense of belonging.
Though looking attractive, How to know hollow inside? Where to get the sense of Tihar In this immigrant soil? Who bothers to know the meanings Of relations, affinity and ties Living in the quagmire of materialism ? Where there is no sense of the heart There is no reliability of work As if it were fluctuating weather .
I am nostalgic of sel roti And the flowers and home.
Thankot, Kathmandu Present : America
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 215 lg/Gt/ o'4 ■ bLkf lnDa' /fO{ ltdL;Fu s'g} b':dgL lyPg, d cfˆg} ;+;f/df lyPF o;/L g} afFr]/ v]N5g\ ;d'Gb|df ;f]8\lkm; / dln{gx¿ slxn] kfgLdf t}l/Fb} slxn] kfgLdf kmfn xfGb} d klg t o;/L g} v]Nb} lyPF lsg ltdLn] ;d'Gb|nfO{ g} sAhf ug{ vf]Hof} kfgLnfO{ g} ljefhg ug{ vf]Hof} df5fx¿nfO{ hfndf kfg]{ if8\oGq u¥of} of] lts8dsf] c+zaG8fsf lj?4df d o'4 ug{ rfxG5' d d]/f] cl:tTjsf] /Iff ug{ rfxG5' s] ltdL d;Fu lg/Gt/ o'4 ug{ ;dy{ 5f} <
w/fg, ;'g;/L xfn M hd{gL
216 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Constant Wars ■ Deepa Limbu Rai
I had no enmity with you As I was in my own world Like the way star fish and marlin slither On the surface of the sea They jump sometimes in the water I, too, was playing Why did you capture the sea And began to divide the water And set a net for the fish.
I want to engage into the war Against such division I want to save my identity Are you ready to engage in war With me forever?
Dharan, Sunsari At present : Germany
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 217 d t e"t eP5' ■ b'ZoGt e6\6/fO{ d ;fgf] 5Fbf cfdfn] eGg' x'GYof] afa', ;fFem k/]kl5 3/ aflx/ hfg' x'Gg, d ;f]Wg] uy]{+ lsg cfdf < cfdf eGg' x'GYof], afa' aflx/ e"t cfpF5, cfh x]5{', cfˆgf] sfd g} ;fFem k/]kl5 ;'? x'G5, x]g{' cfdf d t e"t eP5' . cfdf eGg' x'GYof] ;"of]{bob]lv ;"of{:t;Dd dflg; aflx/ sfddf, e"t cf]8f/df, ;"of{:tkl5 dflg; 3/df, e"t aflx/
218 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I Became a Phantom ■ Dushyanta Bhattarai
When I was a small boy My mother used to say Baby, you should not go out in the morning And I would ask "Why is so mother ?" Baby, there comes a phantom in the night Today I see I am myself a phantom, Since my works start in the night See mother, I am myself a phantom.
Mother used to say From morning to evening Man is at work And the phantom is in the lair Whereas in the evening Man is at home And the phantom moves around.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 219 cfh ef]ln, d ca]nf;Dd ;'T5', kbf{ nufPsf] aGb sf]7fdf, nfU5 d cf]8f/df 5' ;"of{:t;Fu} aflx/ sfddf hfG5' ca]/ u/L kmls{G5', xf] cfdf, d t e"t eP5' . d ;f]Wg] uy]{+, cfdf e"tn] s] u5{ < cfdf eGg' x'GYof], afa' e"tn] t;f{pF5, cfh ef]ln, ha d /ftL 3/ kms{G5' / 9f]sf vf]N5', 9f]sf vf]n]sf] cfjfhn] ;'lt /x]sf] 5f]/f] tl;{G5 . nfU5 d dfG5] t;f{pFg yfn]5' xf] cfdf ¤ d t e"t eP5' . d ;f]Wg] uy]{+, cfdf e"t s:tf] x'G5 < cfdf eGg' x'GYof] afa' e"t 8/nfUbf] x'G5, b]lvFb}g, cfjfh dfq lgsfN5, Tof] klg 8/nfUbf], cfh ef]ln ljrf/ u5{', laxfg ca]/;Dd ;'Tg] d 5f]/f] :s'n hfFbf p7]s} x'Gg l;/sleqsf] d
220 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Now-a-days, I sleep in a room till late, Enclosed by the curtains I go to work since the dawn And return late in the evening Yes, I am a phantom, mother.
I used to ask What does the phantom do? And she used to say It frightens.
Now-a-days I get back home in the night And open the door It frightens my son Who is fast asleep I think I am, too, frightening persons Yes, mother I have become a phantom.
I used to ask What is a phantom like? She used to say it is fearsome Not visible It just produces sound Which is dreadful.
I now contemplate That I sleep late in the morning Till the son leaves for school And my son does not see me He hears only my snoring It is so frightful
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 221 5f]/fn] b]Vb}g, s]an d 3'/]sf] cfjfh dfq ;'G5 Tof] klg 8/nfUbf], ha 5f]/f] :s'naf6 kmls{G5, d 3/df x'Gg, ha d 3/ cfpF5' pm ;'lt ;s]sf] x'G5, d 9f]sf vf]N5' pm ;'t]s} 7fpFdf tl;{G5, xf] cfdf, p;sf nflu d ToxL cb[Zo j:t' ePsf] 5', cfjfh lgsfNg] t/ gb]lvg] e"t ePsf] 5' . cfdf d tkfO{+nfO{ of] klg t ;f]Wg] uy]{+ ls e"t s;/L x'G5 eg]/ < tkfO{+ eGg' x'GYof], afa', dfG5] d/]kl5 e"t x'G5, cfdf, oxfF t d, gdl/sg} d/]sf] 5', x/]s lbg, x/]s kn, d db}{ afFr]sf] 5', afFRb} d/]sf] 5', xf] cfdf d t lhpFb} e"t ePsf] 5', ;fFRr} cfdf d t e"t eP5' .
xfn M a]nfot
222 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf When I come He is fast asleep I open the door He is frightened in the bed I have become an invisible entity for him I am a phantom to make a noise But invisible.
Mother I used to ask you- How does phantom come to shape? You would say When a person dies He turns into a phantom Mother, I have become a phantom without death Every moment or time I live in death Yes, mother I have become a phantom in life Truly mother I am a phantom.
At present : Belayat
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 223 kz'sf] O{Zj/ ■ b]z ;'Aaf
P O{Zj/ ¤ d ltd|f] k/d eQm x'F ltdL sxfF 5f} ltdLnfO{ vf]Hb} vf]Hb} lxF8\g] tLy{ofqL x'F af6fdf yfssf yfs cl:yk~h/ 5g\ cfnf /ut 5g\ ;'s]sf /ut 5g\ cln k/ o'4/t eQmx¿ 5g\ tL ;a} ltdLnfO{ vf]Hb} lxF8\g] d h:t} k/d eQm x'g\ tLy{ofqL x'g\
O{Zj/ ltdL Pp6f /fd|f] cf:yf xf} ljZjf; xf} / v]nf}gf xf} /fd|f] j:t' ;a}nfO{ /fd|f] nfU5 /
224 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com The God of Animals ■ Desh Subba
Oh God I am your devoted disciple Where Thou reside I am the pilgrim to seek you.
On the path There are heaps of skeletons Fresh blood Dry blood And a bit farther Some disciples are there at war All these seek like you like me They , too, are pilgrims.
God, You are a agreeable faith Belief and a joy And people seek every good thing And they get tempted These skeletons The drops of blood
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 225 kfpg nf]leG5g\ oL cl:yk~h/ /utsf yf]kf ltdLnfO{ kfpg lxF8bf lxF8\b}, n8\bf n8\b} lanfPsf hLjg x'g\ ltdLdf s] 5 To:tf] cfsif{0f < ;f]Wg dg nfU5 hLjgsf] s'g} kjf{x gu/L nf]leG5g\ dfG5] ltdLl;t ltdL kTy/ xf]Ogf} ltdL ;'g xf]Ogf} ltdL dxFuf dxFuf h'xf/t xf]Ogf} t/ klg ltdLdf dfG5] em'ldG5g\ n8\5g\ / d5{g\ eG5g\ dg]{ cfTdfx¿ ltdLl;t ;'v 5 zflGt 5, ;d[l4 5 / ;d'b| dGygsf] cd[t 5 oxL kfpg pgLx¿ elQmdf 5g\ / tLy{ofqfdf 5g\ t/ dl;t ltdLnfO{ ljZjf; gnfUg] oIf k|Zg 5, s[kof O{Zj/ dnfO{ atfpm ækz'x¿ lsg dl/xQ] ub}{gg\ ltdLnfO{ kfpg < ltdLljgf klg hLjg rNg] /x]5 .Æ
xªsª
226 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Are the living beings Evaporated drops Toddling and making pace In seeking you.
I want to ask you— What do you possess so As people are drawn towards you? Why people get tempted to you? You are not the stone Neither are you gold You are not costly ornaments But even people throng towards you They fall and die.
Those dead ones say You possess happiness Peace Prosperity Elixir obtained by churning the sea They want to get these things And become your disciple And go for pilgrimage.
But I have a confounding question for you: "Please God, tell me Why do animals are not desperate to get you As they live without You?"
Hong Kong
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 227 ;u/dfyf ■ gd|tf u'/fufO{+
P ;u/dfyf Û eg ltdLnfO{ s'g gfdn] ;Daf]wg u¿F d]/f] ;+;f/sf] 5fg' egf}F ls ;a} r'r'/fx¿sf] /fg' egf}F w]/}n] ltdLnfO{ dfly g} e]6] d tn tn gbLdf ltd|f cjz]ifx¿ vf]Hg yfn]F dfly x]bf{ ;]tfDd] ltdL tn lgnf] /ª\udf e]l6of} cFh'nLel/ pefpFbf cfˆg} xTs]nfsf] /ª\udf e]l6of} egg s;/L /ª\u km]g{ ;S5f} ltdL < gaf]n]/} klg ufFl;Fbf] /x]5 dfof 6f8} eP klg glhs e}mF nfU5 5fof ltdLnfO x]g'{ lyof] cfsfz dflyaf6} x]/]F e]6\g] sNkgf emgemg emfFluP/ cfof] dnfO{ ltdLh:t} clUng dg nfUof], klUng dg nfUof]
228 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Mt. Everest ■ Namrata Guragain
Hey, Everest Tell me how to address Whether I call you the roof of the world Or queen of the mountains Many people visited you on the top But I began finding your residues in the river On the top you look white But serene blue when you flow as a river When I clasped you in my fist You gleamed in the color of the palm Tell me How can you change the color?
Even without speech Love takes place Even far away The shadow remains closer When I wanted to see you So saw you through the sky Passions for meeting Grew more and more
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 229 ltdL aUbf ;Fu;Fu} aUg dg nfUof] d]/f klg ltd|f h:t} lyP ;kgfx¿ t/ egg d ltdLh:t} lsg hd]/ Ps} l9sf] aGg ;lsgF < lsg klUnP/ 5tf5'Nn aUg ;lsgF < lsg clUnP/ prfO yKg ;lsgF < ltdL ;'Gb/ 5f}, s7f]/ klg plQs} o'jfb]lv ev{/ cfdfsf] sfv 5f]8]sfx¿n] ;d]t ltd|f] s7f]/kgnfO{ :jLsf/ u/] ltdLnfO{ r'r'/}df 5fDg cfwf/ lzlj/af6 ofqf ;'? u/] cfFwL x'/Ln] n8fpg vf]Hbf ltdL clnslt klg cf]n{g dfg]gf} xf] dnfO{ klg ltd|f] s7f]/kg g} :jLsf/ 5 d d]/f] ulx/fOaf6 ;w}F ltd|f] prfO gflk/x]sL x'G5' t/ egg 3fddf s] To:tf] zlQm 5 hf] lIflthdfly 5l/g] lalQs} ltdL un]/ kfgL kfgL x'G5f} ;s];Dd kf]lvG5f} / cfkm}df ;d]l6G5f} <
cd]l/sf
230 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I wanted to heighten myself like you I wanted to melt myself like you I, too, had dreams like yours But tell me Why cannot I thicken like you a block of ice? Why cannot I melt and flow? Why cannot I heighten even few inches?
You are stiff, so stiff All accepted your stiffness From baby to the old ones Many made attempted to cuddle you on the peak Blazon typhoon hit you to knock you down But you were firm and resolute Sure, I accept your stiffness.
I measure your height from my depth But tell me What is there in sunny rays Which let you melt To pour onto to the landscapes And resolve into yourself?
USA
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 231 zf;s / l;dfgf ■ g/]z ;'g'jf/ d]/f] l;ª\uf] e"uf]n ltdL tf b]zdf ;Ldfª\lst ePsf 5f} zf;sx¿n] sf]/]sf] hf] ;Ldf /]vfsf] 3]/fleq ljrf/sf] km}nfj6 ps'; d's'; ePsf] 5 c6fpg g;s]/ ljrf/ oqtq 5tf5'Nn kf]lvPsf] 5, d b]lv/x]sf] 5' k|ltkn j}/Lx¿n] c:q z:q ljDasf df]xf]/L ltd|f] ;+j]bgzLn cª\u k|Toª\ux¿df ;fFb]sf 5g\ lg;fgf ltd|f] cl:tTj ;dfKt kfg{ a'lg/x]sf 5g\ ofjt tfgfjfgf v} stf t}gfy 5g\ < nIo e]bL /IffTds ld;fOnx¿ d]/f] b]z Û v} l;dfgfn] ltd|f] /Iff /]vf sf]/]sf] < em/gf vf]nf gbLx¿ Psf]xf]/f] alu/x]sf 5g\ l;l~rt e"ldsf pj{/ kl;gf pFw}pFwf] l;dfgf sf6]/ k/=== k/ k'U5g\
232 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Ruler and the Boundary ■ Naresh Sunuwar
Oh my whole geography ! You are tipped to mere boundaries Sketched by the rulers To suffocate flowing of ideas On becoming brimful to spill over And are poured everywhere. I have seen Many conspirators in each moment Point arms and ammunition to your sensitive body And are weaving the labyrinthine net of conspiracy Where are the defenders ? Ready with defense missiles in target My country Where is the defense line of your protection is sketched?
Rivers and streams flow down perennially Irrigate the lands of fertility And flow crossing the boundaries And soak mass of sands Where cactuses are in bloom Where big skycrappers are built
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 233 afn'jfsf vf8Lx¿df l;l~rt x'G5g\ d?e"lddf cg]s SofS6; pdf5{g\ cfln;fg dxn 78fpF5g\ sn sf/vfgf kl/rfng u5{g\ d]/f] b]z ltdL r}+ ;'Vvf /f]6L phf8 phf8 e"ld h:tf] xlu Û v} ;Ldfx¿n] kfv'/L /f]Sg ;s]sf] < v} l;dfgfn] an, hn, ldlxg]t / kf}/v /f]Sg ;s]sf] < dfq pkef]ujfbL h:tf] d]/f] b]z hxfF df6f]df pAhfp x'g 5f8]sf] 5 ljp ljhg pld|g 5f8]sf] 5 cfoftLt km;nx¿n] k/ lge{/tfsf] rª\u'ndf kmF;]sf] Tof] b]z / Tof] b]zsf] gful/s lah'nL u'n'kd'lg 6'sL afn]/ cGof}nsf] cFWof/f]nfO{ x]g'{ v} l;dfgfx¿n] oL ;a /f]Sg ;s]sf] < d]/f] b]z zf;ssf] kmGbfdf km;]sf] ltdL h;n] ;Ldf/]vf sf]/]/ ltdLdfly /fHo ub{5, x}sd hdfpF5 e|i6frf/ u5{, qf; km}nfpF5, n'6\5 sfnf] Jofkf/ ;kf5{, 5nL :jfy{ k'/f u5{ / ltdLnfO{ g} a]r]/ l;dfgf kf/ u5{ d]/f] b]z zf;sx¿n] sf]/]sf] l;dfgfn] ltdLnfO{ /Iff x}g lanvaGbdf kf5{ .
xªsª
234 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Where factories are set up But my country you are dry bed Almost like a barren land ! Where is the boundary to control this ? Where is it to control the flow Of diligence, water, and legacy? My country seems to be mere consumption Where production has slanted Where plants have left sprouting on the soil By the imported fruits And the country has plunged into dependence Where citizens light candle under the bulb In the confounding darkness Where are the boundaries to prevent this? My country You are trapped by the rulers Who sketch boundaries and rule over you Subordinate you up Corrupt you Terrorize you Plunder you Smuggle you And finally sell you And cross the boundary. My country The sketches of boundaries made by the rulers Only beset you in trouble But does not protect.
Hong Kong Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 235 ags/ aª\s/df ;'t] ■ gj/fh sfsL{
;'t] ;2fd aª\s/df, u2fkmL klg ToxLF ;'t] æa];} eof]Æ eg] em+} ef], ags/ aª\s/df ;'t] ;k{ kfn]/ 3/leq, ;w}F 8/fpg' k¥of] ljifsf] eo x'Gy]g, ;k{sf] lhp/} y't]
k'l5of] l;pFbf] s}of}F sfkLsnd vf]l;of] Hofg} lnP xhf/f}Fsf], nfvf}Fsf] /ut} r';] h] l;sfP dbf/Ln] To} u/]/ prflnP xfg] ef6f / nf7fn], a}ª\s, Jof/]s g} n'6]
9's'6L w':s'6} kf/], lgvf/]/ 8sfl/P zflGtsf] dfu{df ;fyL lsg x'Gy] / aGb's] l;sf] u/]/ dfG5]sf] ef]6 dfUbf k5fl/P n'6\bf kf] hf]l8Psf y], afF8\bf tL xfF8L e}mF km'6]
236 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The wild Slept in Bunkers ■ Nabaraj Karki
Saddam slept in the bunker So did Gaddafi It proved good as the wild slept in bunkers. Rearing snakes in the house, They frightened others ever Had the tongues of snakes been plucked out There would have been no fear of venom.
Many women became widows Many children’s dreams were snatched Many were killed and others' blood sucked They did whatever was asked Struck with lance and stick And plundered banks and barracks.
They plundered the property And finished everything Never followed the path of peace And lost in the ballot As to follow a path of power gambit And all that was plundered was gone.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 237 sfg' ;Gofn rf? / r]Uja/f klg ;'t] chL0f{ clt;f/ ef] / ags/ aª\s/df ;'t] k|efs/0f, kf]nkf]6, lag nfb]g klg ;'t] glthf, lgolt To} xf], ags/ aª\s/df ;'t] .
!= rf? dh'dbf/
xfn M c:6]«lnof
238 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Kano Sanyal laborer slept in the bunker So did Che Guevara The wild slept in the bunkers As they were hit by indigestion So did Prabhkaran, Pol Pot and Bin Laden It was nothing but their destiny.
Australia
Translated by Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 239 df5fk'R5«|] ■ gf/fo0f clwsf/L a}F;n] kUn]/ kfgL kfgL hd]sL km]jfsf] ;Ddf]xgn] cfˆgf] cfªaf6 sfdb]j pTkGg u/L ;]tf] lxpFsf] jLo{ v;fpF5 km]jfsf] ue{df df5fk'R5«] . / ule{0fL x'G5] km]jf / x'sf{pF5] df5fk'R5«]sf] Ps e|'0f ljDa . cfˆg} kfgLsf] P]gfleq . arfpg' k5{ ch;| ;f}Gbo{ df5fk'R5«]sf] b}glGbg alu/x]sf] vf]n} vf]nf ;]tLsf] sfkaf6 cb[Zo eP/ . rf/}kf6f Pp6} ¿kdf pleP/ ;f}Gbo{sf] laxfg lnP/ cfpF5
240 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Machhapuchhre ■ Narayan Adhikary
Macchapuchhre In the melt of blush In the cogulation of water Bewithced by Fewa Lake Creating erotic pleasure Trickles the white semen On the womb of Fewa.
Fewa becomes pregnant And rears Macchapuchhre An embryo symbol In the mirror of the water.
We are to protect His marvelous beauty From where follow the streams To become invisible In the chasm of the Seti.
Standing just in one dimension Even the fourfaced peak
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 241
web source:www.khasskhass.com df5f e}mF kf}8Fb} kf}8Fb} kf]v/fsf] cfsfzdf / x]b{5 w/fdfly df5fk'R5«] 5 xhf/ gf} ;o lqofgAa] ld6/ prfOaf6 / r'Db5 lgn uugsf] cw/df . cGgk"0ff{ lxdz[ª\vnfsf] ;f}Gbo{ dxfb]jsf] jf;:yfgn] ;'zf]let ;]tf] lxpF cf]9]/ d':s'/fpF5 / x;fpF5 kLl8t dgx¿nfO{ klg clg ;uf}/j 3f]if0ff ub{5 . d s;}l;t l5lNnPsf] 5}g d k"0f{ o'js, s'df/ lxdfn x'F s}of}F k|:tfjx¿nfO{ c:jLsf/ ub}{ cfhLjg a|Xdro{df a:g] s;d vfPsf] d Ps elh{g lxdfn x'F . k"j{df cGgk"0f{ bf];|f] lzv/ /d]sf] cGgk"0f{ k|yd;Fu klZrd xfF;]sf] pQ/L cw/df wf}nflu/L r'd]sf] / blIf0fdf kf]v/fsf] cFufnf]df lg8/, lgisk6 afFlwP/ :kml6s d':s'/fpF5– df5fk'R5«] . dnfO{ d h:t} nfU5 df5fk'R5«] . dgsf] au}+rfdf km'nfpmF nfU5 df5fk'R5«] . cnª\sf/n] o'jsx¿sf cfFvfdf ;'Gb/L nfUg] o'jtLx¿sf cfFvfdf k'?if nfUg] cw{ gf/LZj/ ;'Gb/ df5f k'R5/ xNnfpF5 ;f}Gbo{ kf/vLsf cfFvfdf
242 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf It ushers in the beautiful dawn It floats on the sky of Pokhara And glances over the landscape From the height of 6993 meters And kisses the bluish atmosphere.
The beauty of the Annapurna peak The abode of Lord Mahadev Smiles in the white canopy And gives laughter to the depressed minds And declares in pride
I have not been a flirt I am a complete youth and a perfect mountain Turning down many offers I have vowed to celebacy I am one virgin mountain as well In the east Annapurna Second is poised And to the west Annapurna Frist gleams In the north Dhaulagiri is in caress And to the south Pokhara is on my lap Fearless and impeaccable I, Machhapucchre, smile flawless I too feel myself Macchapuchhre I want to bloom it in the garden of my mind!
In the esthetic creation Like the beautiful girl in the eyes of males And the same in the eyes of females Half female Shakes beautiful fish tails In the eyes of esthetic people In the eyes of strangers In the eyes of observers !
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 243 cfuGt'ssf gogdf cjnf]sg stf{sf cjnf]sgdf . d gnhfO{ x]g{ ;lSbgF df5fk'R5«] Ps nHhfn' d':sfg lrKnG5 cf]7af6 / d :vlnt x'G5' p;sf] sf}dfo{df . cGwsf/ /ftdf Zj]t lxdHof]ltn] cFWof/f] 89fpFb} d':sfgsf] lbof] hnfpF5 kf]v/fsf] 5ftLdf / uj{n] lz/ p7fpF5 df5fk'R5«] . ;bL{ vf]nfsf 6«fp6 df5fx¿ sfvdf v]nfpFbf v]nfpFb} df5fs} ¿kfs[ltdf ¿kfGtl/t df5fk'R5«]– 3fGb|'ssf] af6f]nfO{ ;d]6]/ cGgk"0f{ kyn] 3]/f xfN5 / k}bn ofqfsf] dgf]/~hg afF8\5 . k}bn ofqL;Fu, ko{6s;Fu . lk|o df5fk'R5«] Û ltd|f] df]xstfdf d laGbf; hLjg lhpFb} 5' . ltd|f] ;f}Gbo{ kfs]sf] af]6d'lg d kv{Fb} 5' .
eb|k'/, emfkf xfn M cd]l/sf
244 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I cannot see you until I am embarrassed An embarrassed gleam slips from the lips I am lost into ejaculation in his virginity !
In the dark night The white light sparkles And soaks the darkness Spreading the smile of beacon In the bosom of Pokhara And Machhapuchhre stands in pride.
The trout fish in Sardi Khola To tend on the lap In transforming as if it were fish The Macchapuchhre Following through Ghandruk Besiezes with it Annapurna Path And shared the joy of walking With the pedestrians and tourists.
Dear Macchapuchhre I am in your bewitching beauty I have become utterly carefree in ecstasy.
I am a waiting Your beauty under a tree.
Bhadrapur Jhapa At present : America
Translation : Bamdev Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 245 …afÚsf] Od]n ■ lgik|e ;hL afa' cfhsn clncln 6fOk ug{ ;Sg] ePsf] 5' cfFvf eg] sdhf]/ x'Fb} 5g\ ;dz]/ 8fS6/, of] pd]/df ck/];g ug{ ldNb}g eG5g\ yfxf 5}g of] cfFvfn] slxn];Dd xl/of] lrGnf < afa' of] pd]/df eP klg ltdLnfO{ Od]n ug{ ;Sg] ePsf] 5' . lxhf] ltdL;Fu :sfOkdf s'/f u/]kl5 cfdf /ftel/ /f]Og\ lbbLx¿ dx]Gb|gu/ 5g\ bfO b]x/fb'g 5 ltdL Totf 5f} xfdLnfO{ x/]s lbg cg'xf/ b]vfpg] oxL sf:sLsf]6 / ;/fª\sf]6sf] 8fF8f] 5 ;dz]/ 8fS6/ eGb}lyP cfdfsf] b'Mv ca lglSnof] 3'F8fsf] hf]gL{ /fd|f];Fu 3'Db}g cfdf lxF8\g} gkfO{ b'V5 eG5] . k/f/;Dd
246 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf An email from a Father ■ Nishprabh Saji
Dear son ! These days I can slowly type the letter myself Eyes are getting weaker Doctor Sumsher says they can’t be operated at this age I don’t know till when these eyes can discern green Dear son, though at this age I am at least able to send you an email.
After the skype chat with you yesterday Your mother wept all night Your sisters are in Mahendranagar Your brother is in Dehradun You are there And to show the faces to us every day We only have Kaskikot and Sarangkot hills Doctor Susmsher was saying The sufferings that the mother endured are now surfacing Her knee knuckles do not move properly She tells that they pain even before she moves. Till last year She carried heavy bundles of grass
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 247 v/af/Laf6 r'nL nufP/ 3fF;sf] ef/L af]Sg] cfdfnfO{ cfˆg} l/Qf] z/L/ ef/L ePsf] 5 . ;dz]/ 8fS6/, of] pd]/df b'Mv gug'{;\ eG5g\ ;dz]/ 8fS6/, of] pd]/df ck/];g ug{ ldNb}g eG5g\ htftt} b'Vg yfn]kl5 b'Mv vf]Hg d]nf hfg gkg]{ /x]5 Û dnfO{ yfxf 5 ltdLn] la;]{sf 5}gf} ltdL ;fgf] 5Fbf rª\uf p8fpg l;sfPsf] lyPF d}n] / eg]sf] lyPF rª\uf r'Fl8P/ ?vd} c8\lsof] eg] g?g" eg]/ afa', rª\uf r'Fl8bf t d}n] gofF rª\uf lsg]/ lbGy]F ltdLnfO{ clxn] t ltdLx¿g} rª\uf eP/ p8\of} / c8\lsof} gemg]{ u/L clxn] t ltdLx¿ g} r/f eP/ p8\of} / agfof} gofF u'F8 ;kgfsf] lgnf] cfsfzdf Û
3/sf] blngdf uf}FynLn] u'F8 agfPsf] 5 s]6fs]6Lx¿ cem} klg rª\uf h'wfpFb} lxF8\5g\ oltdfq ;f]R5' ltdL p8\g] ;kgfsf] cfsfz klg oxLF st} eO lbPsf] eP Û
kf]v/f xfn M c:6]«lnof
248 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf From the plantation Now feels her own body heavy Doctor Sumsher suggests her not taking pressure at this age Because it is difficult operating at this age.
When it starts to pain everywhere One needs not go to the fair To look for a sorrow! I know you’ve not forgotten How I had taught you to fly a kite when you were small And I had said Do not weep even if the kite breaks away and gets entangled in a tree Dear son, when your kite got entangled, I bought you a new kite But by now, you all flew like the kite And got entangled somewhere with no hope to come back You all flew like a bird And made a new nest in the blue sky of the dream!
A swallow has made its nest in the beam of the house Children still fly the kites I only think If the dream sky of your flight Were somewhere here!
Australia
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 249 xf] o;/L g} hLjg latfOG5 k/b]zdf ■ lg/fhg ‘k|eft’ haha dg 88]/ ktkt w'jfF cfpF5 ta ta zAb lj:kmf]6 x'G5g\ c;/Nn 5l/G5g\ zAbx¿ sfkLsf] Sofgef;df oltn] gk'u]df aGb sf]7fleq s]xL yfg p:t} dg b'v]sf l76f e]nf x'G5g\ ;'? x'G5 k'gM af]tnsf] kfgL afF8\g] qmd z"Gotf lrl/G5g\ lunf; el/G5g\ clg Pp6f ;+o'Qm cfjfh lgl:sG5 ælro;{Æ oxLF of]hgf aG5g\ jgsf ToxLF cGTo x'G5g\ ;kgfx¿sf] xTof ul/G5g\ xhf/f}F yfg r'/f]6 7f]l;G5g\ v/fgLbfgLdf hLjgsf] hf]836fp u'0ff efu nufpF5g\
250 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Yes, This is How We Live Abroad ■ Nirajan ‘Prabhat’
When The heart burns and smoke suffuses Then Words burst And disperse here and there On the canvas of a paper And if this becomes inadequate Some youths sharing the similar pangs meet inside a closed room Then begins the pouring of the liquor The emptiness vanishes Glasses get filled And a chorus voice echoes ‘Cheers’ Here they make plans But they suddenly get obstructed And those dreams are murdered And a number of cigarettes Are tossed on the ashtray They add and subtract life Multiply and divide Some of them smile for their proper balance sheet of life
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 251 sf]xL hLjgsf] jf;nft ldn]sf]df s'l6n d':sfg km'nfpF5g\ h; h;sf] ldNb}g tL cldnf] cg'xf/ kf/]/ k'gM hf]8 hf]8n] lunf; ;dfpF5g\ nfUbf] xf] p;n] hLjgnfO{ ;dfPsf] 5 kmut e|d Û hLjg a'lemG5 hLjg a'emfOG5 w'jfFsf] d':nf]n] s'O/L d08n jftfj/0f bfFt], u]6], ;]S;lko/ hlGdG5g\ xHhf/f}F pkGof;, sljtf uef{wfg ul/G5g\ /S;L / r'/f]6sf] ;dfudn] s] x'Gg oxfF ;a} x'G5g\ ToxLF x'G5g\ yf]d; cNef, /fO6 bfh'efO clg u|fda]n oxLF cg';Gwfg x'G5 k|of]u x'G5 clg ;KnfO{ x'G5 d Ps s'gfdf a;]/ oL lgofN5' s]xL yfg 6fpsfleq kL8f b]V5' dg w'jfFw'jfF ePsf] kfpF5' d klg t kLl8t g} xf] l;tg 6f]S5' nfU5 d}n] l;tg xf]Og kL8f 6f]Sb} 5' rafpF5' dHhfn] d¥ofsd'?s kf5{' clg dg zfGt kf5{' ca zfGt x'G5'– d}n] kL8fnfO{ lgn]sf] 5' of] cfzfn] d Pp6f cnf}lss lgGb|f kfpF5' ef]ln slxn] gxf];\ eGg] sNkgfdf lgbfpF5' . t/ k'gM ef]ln x'G5 kL8f alNemG5g\
252 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf And those who feel their balance sheets inapt Hold back their glasses strong As if they are holding their life Just an illusion! Life is understood Life is explained The surrounding is filled with smoke Where Dante, Goethe, and Shakespeare are born A number of novels and poems Are conceived The union between liquor and cigarette Makes nothing impossible There appear Thomas Alva, Wright brothers and Graham Bell Research begins Experiments happen And the supply resumes Sitting in a corner, I watch it all I envision the pain in those heads The heart has gone all smoky I am a victim too I take a bite of an edible But it appears as if I am biting the suffering itself I chew it into pieces in a relaxed way And pacify my heart As if I have swallowed the pain This hope gives me a divine sleep And imagine tomorrow will never come again. But, Tomorrow comes Sufferings interweave The green passport aches As if this green passport is a green bamboo And that alarm
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 253
web source:www.khasskhass.com xl/of] kf;kf]6{ b'V5 nfU5 xl/of] kf;kf]6{ xl/of] af; xf] Tof] cnfd{ Psf]xf]/f] zª\v xf] xfdL cfˆg} dnfdL hfg ca tof/ x'g' 5 hLjg ef]U5f}F xKtfe/ b'Mv u5f}{+ xKtfe/ k'gM em'df /ft cfpF5 bf]xf]l/G5 pxL r'/f]6 km'lsG5g\ af]tn kmf]l8G5g\ lk|o;Lsf] k'/fgf] tl:j/ x]/]/ eSsflgG5g\ ;fx'sf] tdf;'s ;Dem]/ cflQG5g\ >LdtL ;lDemP/ l;/fgL r]K5g\ gflkG5g\ :s]n nufP/ hLjgsf] cfotg nDafO rf}8fO df]6fO ;a} z"Goz"Go o;/L g} z"Gosf] k5fl8 cg]s z"Go yKb} kfqf] kN6fOG5g\ xf] o;/L g} hLjg latfOG5g\ k/b]zdf Û
stf/
254 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf A persistent couch We need to prepare to join our own funeral We live the life for a week We toil and sweat for a week Again an intoxicating night arrives Everything gets repeated Cigarettes lighted New bottles opened They sob looking at the old photographs of their beloveds And are terrified remembering the bond with the lender They embrace their pillows in memory of their wives And with a scale They weigh the volume of their life Length Breadth Height All empty and void Only adding more voids The pages in the calendar turn And this is how we spend our life abroad!
Qatar
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 255 jgjf; ■ lgnd sfsL{ lgxfl/sf
Ps x'n 5fn tF5f8 d5f8 ub}{ :jfut u5{ ;'/jL/nfO{ o;} u/L x/]s labfsf] lbg ha k'U5 sf]gL cfONofG85]p vf]Hg cfk}mFnfO{
5fgf] r'lx/x]sf] 3/sf] lkF9Ldf a;]/ j[4 cfdfsf] cflz/–lz/df l;pl/Psf] labfO x]b}{ ;'Ts]/L lk|oªsfsf cfFvfdf gjlzz'sf] lgwf/df 6fF;]sf] clGtd r'Dag ;DemgfnfO{ ld;fpg u5{ pn]{/ lsgf/f e]6\g cfpg] clg x/fpg] ;d'b|L 5fn;Fu
/ftf] ;"o{n] ;d'b|nfO{ glgNbf;Dd afn'jfdf cfk}m;Fu cg;g al; /xG5 ;'/jL/=== pm al; /xG5 ;f]lw /xG5 lg?Ql/t k|Zg cfˆg} Åbo;Fu=== lxpFn] afn'jfdf ;]tf] Rofb/ la5\ofpFbf klg cfpg] u5{
256 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Exile ■ Neelam Karki Niharika
A flock of desperate waves Welcome Surbir in this way When on holidays He reaches Coney Island To find himself
Sitting on the porch of a house with a leaking roof With the blessings of his old mother thrust into his head Looking in his wife’s eyes who has recently mothered a child bidding goodbye The final kiss on his newborn’s forehead as a memory And he mixes them With the sea waves that come to meet him at the bank and then disappear
Until the red sun swallows the sea Surbir stages a protest against himself on the sand…
He keeps sitting And asks the unanswered questions of his own heart… He comes even when the snow spreads a white cover on the sand
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 257 ;"o{sf] e§Ldf afn'jf e'l6Fbf klg cfpF5 ;d'b| lrl;P/ a/km aGbf klg cfpF5 ;d'b| tfltFbf÷aflkmFbf klg cfpF5 lgTo–lgTo cfpF5 x]/s labfsf] lbg cln k/ b]a|]lt/ lgMj:q ;'t]sL of}jgfdf p;sL lk|oª\sf b]Vg ;Sb}g b[Zo k]mg{'cl3 cfFv}n] Ps k5\of}/L cf]9fOlbG5 ;'/jL/ of}jgfsf] z/L/df / nfdf] Zjf; lnG5 dfly cfsfzdf p8\g] hxfhn] g Nofpg ;s]sf] xf] p;sf] cfwf HofgnfO{ pmlt/ g t ofq' agfpg g} ;s]sf] 5 ;'/jL/nfO{ n}hfg ptflt/ Û cfh klg pmh:t} ofqL p;s} cfsfzdfly 8f]sf]el/ ;kgf eg{ pl8 /x]5g\ ToxL ;kgfsf] l/Qf] 8f]sf] la;fpg] 5g\ s]xL a]/df st}lt/ yfxf 5}g, slxn] el/g] xf] r'lxg] 8f]sf] < ;'/jL/sf] ;kgf– kSs} Dofgx6gsf] uugr'DaL ejghqf] lyPg g ;d'b| e}mF k}mlnPsf] g} sf]gL cfONofG8 5]psf] Ps'l/oddf kf}l8 /x]sf] aGbL kfgL 3f]8f h:t} ;'/jL/sf] dg– O{= ;+jt\sf] gj cfudg;Fu
258 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf He comes even when the sand is fried in the sun’s oven He comes even when the sea freezes to become ice And also when the sea boils and evaporates He comes regularly every holiday
At a distance on the left There’s a maiden sleeping nude But he doesn’t see his beloved in her Before he shifts the scene With his eyes Surbir covers the maiden’s body with a mantle And sighs
The airplane flying in the sky Neither could bring his half body towards him Nor could make Surbir its passenger to take it the other side!
Still today Travelers like him are flying to fill their dream basket Over his sky They will put their empty dream basket somewhere soon It’s not clear when will that leaking basket fills? Surbir’s dream Surely was not as tall as the skyscrapper in Manhattan Neither was broad like the sea
In the aquarium near the Coney Island Like the swimming prisoner water-horse Even with the new arrival of the Christian calendar Surbir’s heart cannot enjoy it forgetting the first day of Baisakh Surbir wishes to celebrate Dashain in Christmas And Gaijatra in Halloween Surbir sometimes dreams of the Statue of Liberty,
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 259 slxn] /Dg ;Sb}g e'n]/ j}zfv PsnfO{ ;'/jL/nfO{ t lqm;d;;Fu} a8fb;}F rflxPsf] 5 xnljgdf ufO{hfqf rflxG5
;'/jL/, slxn] O{:6fRo' ckm lna6L{nfO{ ;u/dfyfsf] 6'Kkfdf plePsf] ;kgf b]V5 / ctflnFb} p7\5 ;'/jL/, slxn] ;d'b|nfO{ c~h'nLdf pEofP/ s0ff{nLdf k'¥ofpF5 slxn] d]rL–sfnL NofP/ ;d'b|df ld;fpF5 afn'jfdf o:t} o:t} b]V5 ;kgfdf ;'/jL/ ;'/jL/, eG5 ;d'b|;Fu /fd t jgjf; rf}w jif{ uPsf lyP /] Û d}n] /fdsf] /]s8{ efFr]sf] 5' /fdnfO{ t jgjf; bz/yn] k7fP /] Û t/ dnfO{ jgjf; s;n] k7fof] <
cd]l/sf
260 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Standing on the peak of Everest Sometimes Surbir dips the sea in his palm-cup and carries it to the RiverKarnali Other times he brings Mechi-Kali and mixes them in the sea In his dream on the sand Surbir sees something like this And says to the sea— Lord Rama went to the exile for fourteen years! I have beaten his record. Dasharath had sent Rama to exile But who did send me?
America
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 261 d"No ■ kbd u'/fufO{+ pN6f kfOnf s'lNrFb} cfPsf] Tof] ;fob gofF cfuGt's xf] w'jfF / wldnf] ;fkm ug]{x¿ x'g\ ls < e'nx¿sf] p?ª 5 oxfF rfxgf ldn]g < s]xL 5}g b[li6 ldn]g < s]xL 5}g lhpg] z}nL g} ldn]g < / klg ==== C0fsf] af]emn] 9f8 s'lk|Pkl5 cfˆgf] d"No vf]Hb} d}n] tfFbf] r9fP/ tfs]sf] nIo v'nf cfsfz xf] d]/f] l;4fGt oxL xf]– d :jtGq xf/]sf] lyPF / 5' / cfh :jtGq lhTg kfpg' k5{ To;}n] cfsfz emfg{ of] lt/ 5f]l8lbPF d}n] ;fob– cfdfsf] ;kgf klg oxL g} lyof] .
adf{ -DofGdf/_
262 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Price ■ Padam Guragain
The one who is coming here With the opposite steps Probably is a new comer Or he may be the cleaner of dust and smoke Here is a pile of wrongs No worry even if our desires do not match No worry even if our visions do not coincide Or Our life styles do not match either Even then My backbone curved by the weight of the debts I’m exploring my own price By putting the arrow in the bow, the target I’ve fixed Is the open sky This is my way I had lost my freedom And today I want to win it back Therefore, to bring the sky down I unleashed This arrow. Probably, this was my mother’s dream too! Myanmar
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 263 v'n eg]]F v'Nof} ltdL ■ kbd ljZjsdf{ v'n eg]F v'Nof} ltdL, k'mn eg]F km'Nof} xfF; eg]F xfF:of} ltdL, gfr eg] gfRof} . h'g h:t} 5fof lbof}, 3fdh:t} dfof zAb–zAbdf nfpgL, k|]dsf] ufyf lbof} . x/ v';Ldf xfF;f] lbof}, x/ b'MvLdf cfF;' ?Gg eGy]F ;fy lbof}, x'Gg eGy]F cfF6 lbof} . k/]jfsf] hf]8Lh:t}, hf]l8Psf] k|]dsf] syf cGt;Dd /lx /xf];\ kljq of] ufyf lbof} .
cd]l/sf
264 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com I Wished You Opened, and You Opened ■ Padam Bishwakarma
I wished you opened, and you opened; I wished you bloomed, and you bloomed I wished you smiled, and you smiled: I wished you danced, and you danced
You were soothing like the moon, and you loved us like the sun You were an epitome of love, weaved in each and every word
You gave us the smile in happiness, and tears in sorrow You supported when I could not cry; you encouraged when I hesitated
Like a pair of doves, you are a story of a love abound Let it live forever; you gave me this sacred story.
America
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 265 kl/jt{g ■ k'?iff]Qd 9sfn kUnFb} u/]sf] lxpFnfO{ lzlz/ Ct'n] k|Zg u¥of] s] ltdLnfO{ d;Fu} lxF8\g] OR5f ;lsPsf] xf] < lxpFn] eGof] pd]/ ;lsP5 klUng yfn]sf] kQ} kfOgF ;fob ca d]/f] cl:tTj ;lsP5 Sof/] . ;f]r]F, af9L ag]/ ;fu/ e]6\5' . o:t} axfgfdf sd;]sd ;fu/;Fu e]6\g] d]/f] cle;Kt OR5f t k'/f x'G5 . ;fob km]l/ csf]{ jif{sf] lzlz/ cfpFbf km]l/ lxpF aGg / kg{ To;kl5sf] Ct'df k|r08 udL{ 5fpg d}n] ;fu/ e]6\g} k5{ . d]/f] s'/f ;'g]/ lzlz/ Ct' ptl;{of] labfOsf] Tof] 38Ldf lzlz/n] /ª\u km]¥of] cg'xf/sf] . p8\b} u/]sf] ;'s]sf] kft b]v]/ j;Gt Ct'n] k|Zg u¥of] tFnfO{ klg k'Uof] xf]Og d]/f] ;fy <
266 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Change ■ Purushottam Dhakal
To the melting snow The winter asked- Do you no more have the desire to walk with me?
The snow answered- The time expired, and I didn’t realize my own melting Probably I do not exist anymore! So I thought, I shall become a flood and meet the sea In this pretence, At least my desire to meet the sea will be fulfilled Again in the winter next year To become the snow and fall, and to cover the extreme heat after that I need to meet the sea.
Hearing me The winter was startled In that moment of farewell, the winter changed the colour of its face Seeing the floating dry leaves The spring season asked-
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 267 ;'s]sf] kftn] eGof] dt a'9f] a]sf/ eP5' .
;f]r]F, p8\b} / x/fpFb} eGbf hn]/ gi6 x'G5' . oxL axfgfdf d]/L hggL;Fu e]6\g] cw'/f] OR5f kf] k'/f x'G5 ls .
;fob csf]{ Ct'sf] cfudgdf ;xof]uL aGg kf] ;S5' ls . ;'g]/ kftsf] s'/f j;Gt Ct' la5f]8df c§xf; xfF:of] cg'xf/df /ª\u km]/]/ . otf b'lgofF lzlz/ uof] j;Gt;Fu} k|0fodf /dfpg] t/v/ ub}{ 5 . lxpF / kftsf] s'/f ;'g]/ xf]nf ;fob /ª\u km]b}{ c§xf; xfF:g] Ct'x¿ cfpg] hfg] ;[li6sf] of] v]n ;'s]sf] kftn] a'‰of] kUnb} u/]sf] lxpFn] klg a'‰of] t/ d dfG5] d}n] slxNo} a'lemgF t/ kftn] gi6 x'g] lbg / lxpFn] klUng] lbg hfg]sf] 5 Ct'n] klg ;'s]sf] kft / lxpF;Fu 5'6\g] lbg hfg]sf] 5 .
cd]l/sf
268 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf You do not want my company anymore? The dried leaf said- I have gone old and useless.
I thought Rather than flying and disappearing It’s better to burn and vanish. In this pretence My wish to meet my soil Might materialize.
Probably I might become helpful On the arrival of the next season. On hearing the leaf’s idea The spring broke into roaring laughter of separation Changing the colour of its face. Here the winter is gone And the world is preparing to enjoy the conjugation with spring. Probably hearing the words of the snow and the leaf The changing colour of the roaring seasons And this coming and going game of nature The dried leaf understood The melting snow too understood But as a man, I could not. The leaf knows its end The snow knows when it shall melt The season too knows the time of separation With the dried leaf and the snow.
USA
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 269 v} sxfF 5 d]/f] cl:tTj < ■ k"l0f{df zfx v} sxfF 5 d]/f] cl:tTj < d d]/f] cl:tTj vf]Hb} 5' ltdL, ltdL clg ltdL;Fu d]/f b'O{ cfFvf p3fb}{ d cfˆgf] cl:tTj vf]Hb} 5' . cfdfsf] uef{zoaf6 o; w/tLdf k|yd kN6 ha kfOnf 6]s]F k'iksdn PsfPs nx/ ldnfpFb} d]/f] :jfutdf pkl:yt ePy] . d]/f] hGd ltd|} lgldQ lyof] To;}n] hLjgsf] kl/efiff vf]Hg d dxnb]lv sf];f}F 6f9f d]/f kfOnfx¿nfO{ ;f/]sf] lyPF kbofqL agL clj/n ofqf d]/f] x/]s j[If d]/f] lj>fd u[x .
270 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Where is My Existence? ■ Purnima Shah
Where is my existence? I am looking for my existence With you, only you Opening a pair of my eyes I am searching for my own existence.
From my mother’s womb When I stepped on this earth for the first time A row of lotuses Were present to welcome me.
My birth was only for you Therefore, to find the definition of life As a traveler I advanced my feet Miles away from the bungalow In an eternal journey In which each tree becomes my resting place.
I have been in an eternal journey Along with innumerable co-travelers
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 271 cgGt ofqfdf lgl:sPsf] d cgluGtL a6'jf ;fydf ;Tdfu{ ;Tsd{ ;b\efjgf s?0ff Ifdf bof oL zflGtsf nflu lg:s]sf d]/f jf0fL lyP h;n] hLjgnfO{ df]If;Dd k'¥ofpF5 h;sf] 1fgn] cfTdfnfO{ zflGt lbO{ hLjgnfO{ ;fy{s agfpF5 . oxL d]/f] pkb]z ltdLnfO{ lbg To; j[Ifdf a;f}{+ latfPF t/ Tof] d]/f] e"ld xf]Og Tof] d]/f] hGd:yn xf]Og ToxfF d]/f] cl:tTj 5}g d]/f] cl:tTj d]/f] k'vf{;Fu ufFl;Psf] 5 . t/ d d]/f] pbfª\uf] cfFvfn] b]lv /x]5' clg ;'lg /x]5' d]/f b'O{ sfgx¿n] sxfF k'¥ofpFb} 5 d]/f] cl:tTjnfO{ h'g sbflk ;To xf]Og d]/f] jf0fLsf] ;Gb]z b]pm d ltd|} lgldQ x'F t/ d]/f] z/L/sf] k|rf/ gu/ h'g c;To 5g\ .
272 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Right path Right action Good faith Mercy Forgiveness Kindness These were my words I uttered For peace Which shall lead my life to emancipation And the knowledge of which Shall give peace to the soul And make the life meaningful.
Thus to give you my message I spent years in that tree But that is not my land That is not my birthplace I don’t have my existence there My existence is connected to my ancestors.
But I see with my naked eyes And hear with these two ears Where my existence is being transported Which is but not a truth Please give my message I am only for you But do not advertise my body Which is just an illusion.
Who am I of that place From where I came here Dig that fallen wall The dried branch
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 273 d ToxfFsf] sf] x'F hxfFaf6 d cfPF gkTofP vf]tn Tof] elTsPsf] kvf{n ;'s]sf] xfFuf clg Tof] hns'08nfO{ Oltxf; ;fIfL 5 Hff] jt{dfgdf l:y/ 5g\ 6]s]sf] Tof] e"ld ha k|yd d]/f] kfOnf ToxL d]/f] cl:tTj c8\s]sf] 5 k|Zg u5'{ km]l/ klg ltdL;Fu, ltdL;Fu clg ltdL;Fu lsg df}g 5f} < cem} d vf]Hb} 5' d]/f] cl:tTj v} sxfF 5 d]/f] cl:tTj <
xªsª
274 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf And that water pond History is a witness That remains still in the present The land where I first put my feet There lies my existence And I question again To you, only you Why are you silent? I am still searching for my existence Where is my existence?
Hong Kong
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 275 ltdL clxn]–ltdL clxn] ■ k|sfz g]kfn a;f}{+ klxn] cfof} ltdL afo'kª\v] 3f]8fdf / Psfb]zsf] syf ;'gfof} xfdL /dfof}F / ubub– /ftf] 6Lsfn] ltd|f] lgwf/ /ª\ufpFb} labf u¥of}F / cfzLjf{b lbof}F lhTg' o'4– afNg' aQL emf]k8Lx¿df Pp6f o'4 hxfF x'g] 5}gg\– km]l/ s'g} o'4 x'g] 5}gg\– aGbx¿ af/Daf/ hfg] 5g\– s]6f s]6Lx¿ lgaf{w :s'n x'g] 5 km'naf/L– ;'Gb/, :jR5 ltdL ;jf/ Tof] jfo'kª\v] 3f]8f slt ;'Gb/ lyof]– do'/sf KjfFvx¿n] clg rf/}lt/ dª\un dª\un Wjlgx¿n] t} klg ef/L dgn] labf u¥of}F
276 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com You at Present ■ Prakash Nepal
Years ago You came On a wind-winged horse And told us a once-upon-a-story - We enjoyed And happily, we colorued your forehead with red tika Bid you farewell and blessed you- Win the war, illuminate the huts That war after which There shall be no more wars No more strikes So the children can go to school unobstructed And you will have a garden fresh, beautiful And the wind-winged horse That you rode Was enticing with the feathers of the peacock And the sacred melodies all around Yet with heavy hearts We bid you farewell We knew your feet were aching We knew your throat was scorched
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 277 yfxf lyof]– ltd|f k}tfnfx¿ rr{/fPsf lyP yfxf lyof]– ltd|f cfFtx¿ xx{/fPsf lyP Ps d'7L ;ft' gkfP/ k|f0f hfg ;SYof] Ps c~h'nL kfgLdf Hofg hfg ;SYof] t} klg s7f]/ dg u/fP/ eGof}F– Pp6f sfnf] lbg ;]nfP/ cfpg" of}6f ;Defjgf af]s]/ cfpg" nfvf}Fsf] cfF;' k'5\g cfpg" w]/} jif{ lat] ;'g]F– ltdL o'4 lht]/ kmls{of} ;'g]F– ltdL kmls{of} / uof}– ;'gk/Lsf] b]zdf vfnL ;'g]F dfq} d emf]qmL /x]5', 6f]nfO{ /x]5' 5fgf] em/]sf] emf]k8Ldf / u'Gu'gfpF5'– r/Lsf] sfF 5 / 3/ /ft sf6\of] 8fnLdf a;]/ .
278 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf You could die without anything to eat Without a drop of water to drink.
But we made our heart strong and said - Come back by leaving this dark day away Come back with possibilities Come back to wipe the tears of the millions.
Many years passed And I heard You returned after winning the war And I also heard, you went back again Back to the golden country And sitting in this hut that does not have a roof Now I meditate And murmur - Where is the house of a bird It simply spends the night on a bough!
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 279 d}n] ef]u]sf] sf]l/of ■ k|ult /fO{ lk|o Û d}n] …xl/ofnL sf]l/of;FuÚ eg]/ k|]dkq n]v]sL lyPF ltdLn] t …xfl/of] sf]l/of;FuÚ eGg] k9]5f} Sof/] Û hjfkm slxNo} n]v]gf} .
5'6\g'sf] kL8f n]lVbgF d ?g'sf] kL8f n]lVbgF d b'lgofFn] n]v]sf] s'/f n]lVbgF d ;'g]y]F– d}n] 3/ 5f8\bf ;a}eGbf w]/} lk/ ug]{ d]/f hf]/Lkf/Lx¿ lyP /] Û
;fFRr} Û d]/f lbbLa}gLn] labfOsf] a]nf nufO lbPsf caL/ 6Lsf b'lgofF lhTg pS;fPsf cys pT;fx ;a} ;a} lal;{P5' ls Sof xf] < oxfF x/]s laxfg d]/f] 3fd
280 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf My Experiences from Korea ■ Pragati Rai
My dear! I had written a love letter That said, ‘in love with Korea’s greenery’ But you probably Misunderstood as ‘defeated with Korea’! And so you never replied.
I won’t write the pain of separation The pain of sobbing And what the world has already written I learnt Most saddened by my leaving home Were my neighbours and relatives!
Really! The tika that my sisters put on my forehead before I left And their blessings to win the world Did I really forget them? Here Each morning, my sun Rises at the bottom of the green spinach And sets somewhere there every evening.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 281 xl/of] ;fusf] km]bdf pbfpF5 k|To]s ;fFem ToxLF st} c:tfpF5 . lk|o Û dfªnfO{ an dflulbg" Û ;+;f/ lhTg lxF8]sf] dfG5] ;u/dfyf gf3]/ lxF8]sf] dfG5] Ps laQf cUnf] gf]6sf] af/ gfF£g d lsg ;lQmg xF <
;fob Û d cem} psfnf] hfg rfxG5' a;f}{++b]lv b'Mvsf] afbnn] 9fs]sf] d]/f] 3/df Tof] 8fF8fdflysf] pHofnf] Tof] lIflthsf] w'g Nofpg rfxG5' d . lk|o Û eGHofªsf] kmn}Frfdf rlDsnf] d;Ln] olt n]lvlbg" Û …x/]s laxfg xl/of] ;fusf] km]bdf d]/f] 3fd pbfpFbf / k|To]s ;fFem ToxLF st} c:tfpFbf ls d hLjgsf] kl;gfn] snfTds ;kgf lvlk /x]sL x'G5' ls d ;fuh:t} xl/ofnL sf]l/ofsf] uLt n]lv /x]sL x'G5' .
sf]l/of
282 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf O My dear! Pray for my strength! I came here crossing Mount Evereest And why can’t I jump a half feet high wall of dollars?
Probably I want to climb higher And in my house which is covered by the clouds of suffering for years I want to bring the light from above that hill And also the melody from that horizon.
My dear! Please write with shining ink on the floor of the pass Each morning When my sun rises at the bottom of the green spinach And when its sets somewhere there every evening With the sweat I bear Either I’m nourishing an artistic dream Or I’m writing a song on Korea As green as the spinach.
Korea
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 283 kf;kf]6{ ■ Kf|]d ;+u|f}nf cfˆgf] b]zsf] e"uf]neGbf 6f9f ;'b"/ lIflthsf] cfFugdf sf]6sf] aflx/LeGbf clnsltleq dgnfO{ 5f]Kg] 5ftLeGbf clnslt aflx/ b'a} xftn] kfn}kfnf] ub}{, 5fDb}, d';fb}{, ;'D;'DofpFb} a]nfa]nf ss]{ cfFvf nufpFb} x/fpF5 ls eGb} htg;fy hf]ufpFb} ;Fu} lnP/ lxF8\5'', d]/f] hLjg ;fyL kf;kf]6{nfO{ . ef]sf] k]6 eg{nfO{ k|jf;L eP/ afFRg'sf] gfd kf;kf]6{ xf] :jb]z / cfkmGtsf] dfofdf lklN;P/ uxel/ cfF;' eP klg csf{sf] cufl8 xfF:g'sf] gfd kf;kf]6{ xf] nfx'/], axfb'/, sfG5f eg]/ dfgkbjL ;lxt 8fSg'sf] gfd kf;kf]6{ xf] rf}la;} 306f 8\o'6L u/] klg yfSt} gyfSg'sf] gfd kf;kf]6{ xf] ufO{afv|fsf] d[To' e}mF
284 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Passport ■ Prem Sangraula
Away from my country’s geography In the yard of a distant horizon A little inside the outer of the coat A little outside the cover of the chest With both hands, turn by turn I touch, tap and caress And at times I throw a spy look Fearing I might lose it I carry it protected together with me The identity of my life, my passport!
Passport is a name of a life in exile To fill the empty stomach Thrashed in the memory of the country and relatives Passport is a name for the smile I offer Even with the eyes are filled with tears Passport is a name of our name-callings With the designations of lahure, bahadur and kanchha Passport is a name of our stamina Of not being tired even after working for the entire day Passport is a name of a child away from the homeland
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 285 c/asf] d?e"lddf dg'{sf] gfd kf;kf]6{ xf] . cfdfsf] 5ftLdf / dft[e"ldsf] cfFvfdf ljb]l;Psf] ;Gtfg x'g'sf] gfd kf;kf]6{ xf] cfk"m hlGdPsf] b]zdf afFRg gkfpg'sf] gfd kf;kf]6{ xf] cfk"m afFr]sf] b]znfO{ uj{;fy cfˆgf] b]z eGg g;Sg'sf] gfd kf;kf]6{ xf] ;dli6df d]/f] kl/ro g} kf;kf]6{ xf] . s] egf}F k|jf;L dgsf s'/f x/]s k6s d]/f] kf;kf]6{sf] Dofb ;lsFbf, d]/f] cfˆgf]kg v'OlnFb} uP h:tf] nfU5 cfˆgf] b]z eGg kfpg] clwsf/sf] Dofb ;lsFb} uP h:tf] nfU5 d]/f] kf;kf]6{sf] Dofb ylkFbf, d cfkm} l/Go" eP h:tf] nfU5 :jb]z emg\emg\ 6f9f eP e}mF nfU5 k|jfl;Psf g]kfnL eg]/ lrlgg] klxrfgsf] 6Lsf lgwf/df emg uf9f eP/ nfu]e}mF nfU5 .
cd]l/sf
286 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf From the chest of a mother, from the eyes of the motherland Passport is a name for the inability to live in the land of your birth Passport is a name of inferiority When you can’t call the land you live in as yours In totality, passport is my only identity.
What more I need to say of this exiled heart Every time my passport expires I feel as if my ‘self’ is decaying As if my right to call my country as mine is getting slimmer And when the passport is renewed I feel as if I am myself renewed As if my country is getting farther away And as if the identity of an exiled Nepali Is shining brighter on the forehead.
America
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 287 pd]/ a]r]/ ;kgf pdfb}{ ■ eujtL a:g]t h;/L gbLx¿ ;fu/sf] vf]hLdf ef}tfl/G5g\ cfk"m eGbf ulx/f]kgfdf cfk"mnfO{ ;dflxt ug{ rfxG5g\ To;/L g} d]/f] cfTdf ltd|f] k|ltljDa vf]Hg Psgfz alu /xG5 PSn} cfˆg} j]udf lg/Gt/ alu /xG5 dfq PSnf]kgf lnP/ . ltdL / d}n] sNk]sf /ª\lug ;kgfx¿ cgfof;} gbLsf b'O{ lsgf/f h:t} ePsf 5g\, 5tf5'Nn eP/ kf]lvPsf ;kgfsf /ª\ux¿ cFh'nLel/ p7fpg vf]Hbf vf]Hb} ;'ls ;s]sf 5g\ l/Qf] ;8s h:tf] z"Gotf 5fPsf] dgleq kL8fsf sfnf afbnx¿ d8fl/ /x]sf 5g\ . cfsfª\Iffx¿sf c;ª\Vo tf/fx¿ lemlnldnL pbfpFbf au|]NtL 5l/Psf dxŒjfsfª\Iffx¿nfO{ 6]s]/ ss{nfsf] kftsf df]tLx¿ l6Kg vf]Hb} 5' lhGbuLsf efUo/]vfx¿nfO{
288 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Selling Life, Nourishing Dreams ■ Bhagawati Basnet
Like the rivers desperately looking for the sea To assimilate themselves In the greater depth Similarly, my soul Flows consistently to find your shadow It flows in its own pace Carrying its loneliness.
The colourful dreams we had hatched together Suddenly appeared as if they are the two banks of a river And the colours of our dream spilled everywhere Dried out before I could collect it in my palm-cup. In the heart void like an empty road Black clouds of sufferings clash.
When innumerable stars of expectations Rise illuminating I step on those dispersed ambitions And try to pick the pearls on the taro leaves Comparing the fate line of life With camels’ foot-mark on the desert
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 289
web source:www.khasskhass.com afn'jfsf au/df pF6sf kfOnfx¿;Fu bfFHb} cf}FzLdf rGb|df vf]Hb} 5' cfuf] lkP/ zLt aGb} 5' h;/L cfFwL x'/L;Fu h'w]/ kxf8 d':s'/fpF5 hlt 5fn / nx/x¿ pln{P klg ;fu/ l:y/ zfGt aU5 r'gf}tLsf] lxpF ;x]/ lxdfn ;'Gb/tf afF8\5 . of] aGh/e"lddf pd]/ a]r]/ d yf]/} ;kgf pdfb{}5' an a}F;sf tfutx¿ ;'Dk]/ xfF;f] v';L vf]Hb} 5' kl;gf / /ut;Fu 8n/ ;f6\b} 5' xf], pd]/ a]r]/ d kl;gf / /ut;Fu 8n/ ;f6\b} 5' .
aNv', sf7df8f}F xfn M Oh/fon
290 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I’m looking for a moon in amavasya And becoming a dew-drop by swallowing fire.
As the hill smiles even after clashing with the storm The sea flows quiet and consistent despite the troubling waves Mountains grace with their beauty against the odd of snow In this desert I’m nourishing some dreams Selling my own life Bartering the energy of my youth I am looking for a smile and joy Exchanging dollars with sweat and blood Yes, I am selling my age And trading dollars for my sweat and blood.
Balkhu, Kathmandu Presently : Israel
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 291 pd]/ g 5 Û ■ eLd;]g ;fksf]6f p;}n] af]s]/ sfFw lvofPsf], 9'ª\uf, df6f], lgbfn / lr/k6 p;}sf nflu sfn ag] . eUgfjz]ifdf pm k'l/of], p;sf ;kgfx¿ k'l/P . hjfkmb]lxtf, lhDd]jf/L, ofqf / nfdf] ysfg d/] . t/ d/]sf va/ 5flkP/ klg pm d/]g 5 . slxn] sfv] 5f]/fsf] k]6df ef]s eP/ afFRof] . slxn] hjfg 5f]/Lsf OR5fx¿df d?e"ld ag]/ afFRof] . slxn] cfˆg} cwf{ª\lugLsf] cfªdf 56k6L ag]/ afFRof] . v]t / cfnLx¿df, g;lk|Psf] afnL ag]/ afFRof] pm cfxt / /fxtsf] levn] p;sf] lrtf hNof] . pd]/sf] 3f]if0ffdf
292 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Actually, He Didn’t Die ■ Bhimsen Sapkota
He bruised his shoulders to carry The stones, mud and the wood logs Which unfortunately caused his death. He was buried in the ruins And thus buried were his dreams. Accountability and responsibility too Halted for a long rest But even after the news of his death news was printed He actually did not die. Sometimes he lived as a hunger In his infant child’s stomach. Other time, he lived as a desert In his grown-up daughter’s desires At times he lived as an anxiety In his wife’s body. He lived as a deteriorating crop In the deserted field. His pyre was burnt With the alms received as charity And their trade thrived Of those who traded the tragedy
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 293 ljof]usf] Joj;fo ug{]x¿sf] v]tL ;lk|of] . b'lgofFn] kTt} kfPg p4f/sdL{n] c7f]6 g} u/]g . t/ cfZro{, p;sf] lrtf hn]/ pm eid ePg5 . p;sf] lrtflUgn] afFRg]x¿s} lhGbuL bgbgL ;NsfP/ pm d/]/ klg afFlr /x]5 . dxfe"sDksf] eUgfjz]ifleq ldlrP/ klg d/]g5 .
c:6]«lnof
294 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf No one knew this Even the rescuers But a surprise, Even after his pyre was destroyed He actually did not die. The fire of his pyre Is burning the life of those living ones As he still lives even after the death. He did not die even when he was buried Under the earthquake ruins.
Australia
Translated by Keshab Sigdel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 295 Kof/f] df6f] ■ ddtf sdf{rfo{ hxfF uP/ a;] klg d]/f] b]zsf] jf;gf cfpF5 hxfF uP/ vfP klg d]/} b]zsf] :jfb cfpF5 lxhf] ToxLF lyPF cfhn] nv]6]/ lj/fgf] kfvfdf clNemPsf] 5' . cGwsf/sf] kf]N6f] af]sL pHofnf] eljiosf] sNkgfdf lj/fgf] kfvfdf cndlnPsf] 5' . b'Mv 5 dg ;Dem]/ Kof/f] df6f]sf] ;'Gb/ sNkgfsf] s'¿k cleJolQmsf] af]emdf lylrP/ pHofnf] j:tLdf ;f; km]g{ g;Sg] gfr]sf 5g\ cg'xf/ /S;Lsf] 3'6\sfleq kfiff0f o'uf}Fb]lv eljio;Dd .
296 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Dear Soil ■ Mamata Karmacharya
Wherever I go and wherever I reside There comes the fragrance Of my country's soil. Wherever I go and wherever I dine There comes the taste Of the country of mine. I was there yesterday. Chased by the present Here I am today Stuck in a foreign land. Carrying the bundle of darkness, I am wandering here In a foreign land, Dreaming of a future, bright.
My heart grieves At the thought of my dear land Here I am burdened and suffocated In the hope of a bright future. In this bright land Faces keep dancing
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 297 cfˆg} lj8Dagfdf n8fOFdf 3f]lK6Psf 5g\ hLjgx¿ clg ;f]Rg jfWo xFl;nf cg'xf/leq k|To]s dfG5] kfPsf] x'G5 /fli6«o k/Dk/f clwsf/ / cfjZostf afFlwPsf] cf:yf Kof/f] df6f]df clwsf/ aGbL zflGt b"tsf] b}nf]df 6f]nfO /x]sf] clg ;u/dfyfsf] lz/df u/aLx¿sf] kL8fn] psfnf] rl9 /x]sf] . afFlwPsf] 5' k|jf;sf] xt\s8Ln] k"0f{ Jojl:yt ;x/df r'krfk cfjfh ;'G5' k|jf;df . ;'Gb/ Kof/f] df6f]df cfdf 56\k6fO /x]sf] wtL{df 3f]K6f] k/]/ cfF;'sf] /x/ hLjg k|x/ d[To' / ljrlnt ;Gtfgx¿sf] cFufnf]df nfvf}F d'6'sf] 9's9'sL agL afFlr /x]sf] d]/f] Kof/f] df6f] arfpm arfpm eGb} /f]O{ lrRofO /x]sf] ef]lnsf] ;'Gb/ laxfgsf nflu .
cd]l/sf
298 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf In the gulps of wine From the remote past into the future.
Lives here lie defeated In the war of mockery And forced they are to ponder. In the cheerful faces Everyone finds their national tradition Their rights and needs And their faith bonded with soil. They find themselves By the gate of the messanger of peace, Staring emptily And they hear the anguish of the poor, Climbing up to the crest of Everest.
I am cuffed with the foreign land, In the well-managed city I hear the cry quietly. I see my mother writhing in pain In the land of beauty and peace I see the torrents of her tears, Her life in death, Embracing her anguish-torn children. I hear my dear soil– The heartbeats of the millions– Crying for her life, Living with her dream to see a beautiful dawn.
America
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 299 cg'xf/ x/fPsf] jt{dfg, ltdL / d ■ 8f= dw' dfw'o{ rf/}lt/ …PG6LnfO6Ú aln /x]sf] a]nf cFw]/f]df d ;dosf] d'v b]lVbgF j|"m/ 5 jf bofn' 5 p;sf] ¿k/ª\u b]lVbgF ;do– ;DejtM 38Lsf] ;'O{ tf]8]/ st} eflu ;s]sf] 5 ==== / xfdL a]Un} ;dosf] sNkgf ul/ /x]sf 5f}F k[ys\ b[Zo / ef]ufOx¿sf] ;fIfL alg /x]sf 5f}F jt{dfgdf a]xf];Ln] e}mF ofjt\ s'/fx¿ l:jsfl/ /x]5f}F dfGotfx¿sf] afFemf] dfglrq x]/ cfh cs}{ b]lvG5 Tof]==== lj/lStP/ stf efUof]– d hflGbgF
;do– hLjgsf] kl/efiff Roft]/ x/fPsf] 5 ljutsf ljZjf;sf bzuhfx¿ tf]8]/ km/f/ 5 ;FuflnPsf d"No / e/f];fx¿ eTsfP/ efu]sf] 5 ===
300 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com The Faceless Present, You and I ■ Dr. Madhu Madhurya
Amidst the bright anti-light I cannot see the face of Time in dark Is it cruel or kind? I cannot see its shape, nor its color Probably, Time fled somewhere, Breaking off its hands And here we are imagining a different Time, Bearing a witness to a different scene and experience Like the unconscious, we are accepting everything at present.
Look at that barren map of beliefs! It looks so different I have no idea, where it has fled, so crestfallen.
Time has disappeared, tearing the definition of life It has escaped, breaking the borders of faiths It has fled, dismantling the accumulated values and hopes Therefore They feigned not to know Jesus; they crucified him They feigned not to know Krishna; they pierced him with an arrow They feigned not know the Buddha; they fed him…
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 301 To;}n]– lh;;nfO{ lrg]/ lrg]gg\ qm;df em'G8\ofP s[i0fnfO{ lrg]/ lrg]gg\ jf0fn] xfg] a'4nfO{ lrg]/ lrg]gg\ ===v'jfP cfh– c;To 3[0ff j|"m/tf ==== v'ndv'nf cfbz{do dfkb08 alg /x]5g\ ==== of] g} xfd|f] o'usf] klxrfg xf], lj1fkg xf]=== k/flht ;Tosf] cl:tTj lj:d[ltsf] hª\undf xf]nf t/ b]lvFb}g st} c;Tosf] afn'jf lgkmGbf==== k|]daf]wdf ck/fw jf ;ª\sf]rsf] ememNsf] lsg < / t;{G5g\ dfG5]x¿ alnbfg ;Dem]/ Û ef]sfPsf] l;+xn] d[udfly a;f{Psf] lah'nL :kz{ s] k|]d xf] alnbfgsf gfddf < ha d ljZjo'4 / c3f]lift jt{dfg o'4x¿sf] 8fo/L kN6fpF5' dfG5]sf] kl/efiff a'l‰bgF / s'g k|f0fLsf] Åbodf ;'/lIft 5 ‘dfgjtfÚ– vf]lh /x]5' === otf afnsx¿ ef]s / Kof;n] /f]O /x]sf 5g\ ptf uf]nfaf?b / cf0fljs ad lgdf{0fsf] hª\unL xf]8afhL rln /x]sf] 5 / s'g k|f0fLsf] vf]k8Ldf ;'/lIft 5 …ljj]sÚ– vf]lh /x]5' ===
302 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf At the moment Untruth Enmity Cruelty… Have appeared as the ideal benchmark This is all the identity of our Time Its advertisement The fossils of defeated truth Might be lying in the jungle of oblivion No trace of its is found while sifting the sand of untruth.
Why to taint the realization of love with guilt or shame? Why do men turn away from love as if from sacrifice? Can we call a hungry lion's lightning pounce on a deer love In the name of sacrifice?
As I turn the pages of world wars and undeclared present wars I fail to understand definition of men I wonder which being's heart houses humanity Here children are crying for hunger and thirst There is a wild competition for making arms and atom bomb I wonder which being's skull houses 'conscience'.
There in the way stood another series of misfortunes! The earthquakes and aftershocks flattened many a villages, cities While the survivors vigil in the tents are calling out God, Another storm thrashes the tents Another flood sweeps away men and land What apocalypse of non-construction/deconstruction is this Amidst the borders of death and tears?
I am asking the arch-questions of the Creator– What does God's face look like?
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 303 af6f]df uhwDd pleof] lj8Dagfsf] csf]{ z[ª\vnf Û e"sDk / k/fsDkgn] ;DofP w]/} ufpF, a:tL / ;x/x¿ ar]v'r]sfx¿ lqkfndf hfu|fd a;]/ O{Zj/ k'sfl/ /x]sf] a]nf cs}{ cfFwL cfpF5 / lqkfn p8fpF5 cs}{ cfpF5 af9L / dfG5] / hUuf aufpF5 d[To' / cfF;'sf] l;dfgfdf of] clgdf{0f÷ljlgdf{0fsf] s'g …cfkf]sflnlK;;Ú xf] < ;[li6stf{nfO{ Pp6f oIf k|Zg ;f]lw /x]5' === s:tf] xf]nf O{Zj/sf] d'xf/ dg < afOansf k'/fgf / gofF s/f/x¿ kN6fO /x]5' wDdkb / s'/fg kN6fO /x]5' uLtf / d'Gw'd kN6fO /x]5' ;To, k|]d / zflGt alh{t Onfsfdf hLjgsf] PDa'; 5Nb} 5Nb} lxFl8 /x]5'=== kL8f / sf]nfxnsf] l;Dkmf]gL slxn] ;lsg] xf] …dÚ plePsf] laGb'af6 csf]{ lIflth lgofln /x]5'=== st} hDsfe]6 kf] x'G5 ls ToxfF < efu]sf] ;do / x/fPsf] dfG5]sf] cb[Zo O{Zj/;Fu /, d k|]d / ;Tosf] Ps em'Nsf] 3fd vf];]/ xflh/ x'g] 5' lk|o, ltd|f] cg'kd ;dLkdf Û / dnfO{ yfxf 5– ltd|f] Ps d':sfgdf of] lbnsf] cf}F;L eufpg ;Sg] ;fdYo{ 5 / v'Ng] 5 d]/f] a|Xdf08sf] cfsfz–uª\uf=== hxfF k|:yfg x'g] 5 p2]Zo– k|]l/t hLjg–ofqf Û d rfxG5' a;{g
304 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf How is His heart? I have been turning the pages of Old and New Testaments, The pages of the Dhammapada, of the Koran, of the Gita, of the Mundhum. Evading the ambushes of life I have been walking in the land where truth, love and peace are banned. I am watching the horizon from the point where I am standing, Pondering when the symphony of pain and uproar will end, Wondering when the escaped Time and lost Men would encounter with Invisible God And Snatching some light of love and truth, I will be in front of you, my dear! I know your smile can drive away the darkness enveloping my heart and that will open the milky way of my world where will begin a purpose-driven journey of life!
I wish to forget all traces, lines and shapes That have been transforming the supreme faces of men into hideous masks This is the time when Present has disappeared I wish to go empty, Breaking open my own being, Shaking myself off all atoms, electrons, protons, neutrons And subtle waves of all possibilities, Of colors, of casts, of religions Of all identities. I wished to return to stage prior to 'Alpha' To the pure land of vacuum,
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 305 ctLt sfofjt\ 8f]ax¿ / /]vfx¿ / cfs[ltx¿ h;n] ;jf]{Rr 3f]lift dfG5]sf] d'xf/ jLeT; d'v'G8f] h:tf] dfq agfof] / agfO /x]5 / agfO /xG5 ==== jt{dfg x/fPsf] a]nf– x/fpg' k5{ of] jt{dfg Û_ – d– cl:tTj km'6]/ / km'6fP/ c0f', k/df0f', On]S6«f]g, k|f]6f]g, Go'6«f]g======/ ;Defjgfsf ;"Id t/ª\ux¿ 6s6lsP/ l/lQg rfxG5' /ª\uaf6, hftaf6, wd{af6=== ljBdfg\ ;Dk"0f{ klxrfgx¿af6 …cNkmfÚ k"j{ cjl:yltdf kms{g rfxG5' ljz'4 Eofs'd–Onfsfdf SjfG6d–;~r]tgfsf] Ps Kofnf cd[t lkP/ k"0f{ z"Go eP/ dflQ+b} /dfpg rfxG5'=== tfls …dÚ sf] cfljisf/ sd b]v]/ /dfcf];\ d h:t} Û P dfG5] Û ltdL …ltdLÚ af6 lg:s]/ ;Dk"0f{tfdf cjtl/t x'g' d …dÚ af6 lg:s]/ ;Dk"0f{tfdf cjtl/t x'G5' ;Dk"0f{tfdf lgl:kmqmL v'n]sf] Pp6f caf]w / ;'Gb/ ;'gufef h:tf] Û lgh{g kx/fdf k|ltWjlgt pGd'Qm uLt h:tf]– æk'mnx¿ dfG5] ?g ;Sb}gg\ dfG5]x¿ k'mn d':s'/fpg ;S5g\ =====ÛÆ
ceok'/, bf]nvf xfn M /l;of
306 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Drinking a cup of elixir of quantum-consciousness. I wish to feel a wild ecstasy, rendering myself all empty So that I could be happy to see less and less in me O man! You come out of yourself to land in the totality I will come out of myself to land in the totality Like an orchid, so innocent, so beautiful, Opening in its totality Like a wild song echoing in the desolate precipices– "Flowers don't cry the cry of men" "Men can smile the smile of flowers…!"
Abhayapur, Dolakha At Present : Russia
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 307 lz/k'mn h:tf] h'g / cfdfsf] ofb ■ dg' nf]xf]?ª /fO{ cfdf Û ltd|f] lz/k'mn h:t} h"gn] ‰ofnaf6 d]/f] lgGb|f vf]:b} 5 ltd|f] lgZjf; h:t} atf; cfP/ lh:sfO a:5 3/L 3/L of] k/b]zdf ;fFem laxfg, ltdLnfO{ d]/f] Åbosf] e'd]yfgdf /fv]/ anlaGtL gdfuL sxfF d afFr]sf] 5' / < s}n] ;x/sf] sf]nfxndf s}n] eLdsfo z"Gotfdf hxfF;'s} xf];\ g kmnfSb} lhGbuLsf] hf]vfgf dG;fpFb} 5' b'Mvsf] ;]x]F laxfgLn] k/]nL p3f/]/ 3fdn] ptf cfˆgf] ofS;f lrxfpFbf Ptf of] d'ªnfª] lhGbuL wdfwd ;kgfx¿sf] cUnf] g cUnf] w/x/f agfpg] 5'
308 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com The Sirphul-like Moon and the Memory of my Mother ■ Manu Lohorung Rai
Mother ! The moon like your sirphul1 Peeps through the window And steals my sleep. The breeze like your breath Teases me again and again.
How could I live in this foreign land Without keeping you at the altar of my heart, Without begging for your blessing? Wherever I am Amidst the commotion of the city Amidst the towering silence I chant the words of divinity To ward off the hardship of life.
When the dawn peeps On yaksa in my homeland, Here in a foreign land I find myself erecting the tower of my dreams.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 309 hLjg km'nfpg] ;kgfsf] Ps tnf cefj nv]6\g] ;kgfsf] csf]{ tnf o:t} P]hg P]hg tn} tnf ;kgfx¿sf] dxn aG5– elTsG5, elTsG5– aG5 s'g} Ps dxn k'/f x'Fbf gx'Fb} bu'5{ lg/ª\s''z ;do To} eUgfjz]if of]hgf s'Nr]/ cfdf Û s}n] lxpFbf]sf] lxpF;Fu} hD5 dg s}n] avf{sf] 3fd;Fu} 89\5 dg af8'nL nfUbf lt;{gfn], c:of6 nfUbf ;Demgfn] dgsf] dfª\;'s lvddf r9fpF5' lg ;w}F ofbuf/s} jfa'k, ptfsf] 3fd 3'Db} cfP/ Ptf 7f]lSsG5 cfFvfx¿df ha/h:tL vf];L nfG5 ld7f] lgGb|f d 3fdsf] kfOnf k5\ofpFb} km]l/ ;x/nfO{ km]/f] dfg{ lgl:sG5' ls/0fx¿sf] tft] tft];Fu} ;x/sf] Pp6f 3/leq kl;gfsf] a}gfa§f ub}{ ;kgfsf] dxndf O§f yKg] k|of;df k'/} lbg km]l/ lgnL lbG5, 3fdn] cf]7sf] 3]/ ggf3]sf] cw'/f] xfF;f] af]s]/ kms]{/ cfO k'U5' pxL ef8fsf] c:yfoL 3/leq=== Û
310 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I build one floor to grow the flower of life, Another floor to drive away my scarcity And so on and so on. The castle of my dreams Rises, collapses Collapses, rises The tyrant time Tramples on the wreckage of my dream Before one castle is completed.
Mother! At times my heart freezes With the winter snow. At times it scorches in the summer sun. With every hiccup, I long for you When I feel tormented by your memory I bow to the altar of my heart.
The sun wandering from my homeland Comes here to strike on my eyes, And snatches away my sleep.
Following the pace of the sun, I walked out to circle the city With the toddling of the rays I enter some house in the city To mortgage my sweat, In my effort to add One more brick to the castle of my dream. By then the whole day is swallowed by the sun. With the smile that fails to escape my lips, I come back to the same rented house…! Mother!
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 311 cfdf Û ha klN6G5', cf]5\ofgdf km]l/ af:g yfN5 pxL dgsf] d}gf clxNo} p8]/ hfG5' eG5, gf3]/ lIflthsf] wfl/nf] 3]/f d kmsfpF5' cfFvfsf] b[li6n] 5fd]/ ltd|f] lz/k'mn h:tf] h'g ÛÛÛ
!= dfª\;'s lvd– nf]xf]?ª efiffdf s'n b]jtf /fVg] 3/ . @= jfa'k– lrG8f] .
zLtnkf6L– ^, ;ª\v'jf;ef xfn M cd]l/sf
312 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf As I lie on the bed, The mynah in the cage of my heart Cries again and again, Longing to fly across the serrated horizon. I cajole it, Kissing the sirphul-like moon with my eyes.
1. Gold made ornament in the shape of flower worn on the head by the woman.
Shitalpati–6, Sankhuwashabha At present: America
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 313 ofb ■ dlg afª\b]n ;fu/ vf]l/of vg]/ yfs]sf] Hofg e:d]sf] y'/df la;fP/ vf]:6fdf nfDkft] a]b}{ la/xL ;':s]/f nfpFbf d]naf]6] 8fF8fsf] yfKnf]df b]vf k5{ x'nfsL bfO /dfP/ d'6' a'?s a'?s plk|mG5 5ftL 5]8]/ lg:s]nf em}F d t'kmfgL /ˆtf/df j]u df/L led]sf] v/fgL e'd/L kfb}{ x'nfsL bfO ;dfTg k'U5' / ltdLn] gLnf] xjfO{ hxfh 6fF;]/ ;]tf] vfdleq dnfO{ k7fO lbPsf] d'6' c~h'nLdf yfk]/ d]/f] w8\sg;Fu ld;fpFbfsf] Tof] kn, Tof] v';L clxn] ;f/} ofb cfpF5
314 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Memory ■ Mani Bandel Sagar
After digging the barren land, Resting my exhausted body On the pile of twigs, And smoking tobacco in the rolled leaf, I spot a postman on the crest of the Melbote hill. My heart pounds with joy, As if to flee from my chest.
I stormed up the hill, Whirling the ashes around To hold the postman's hand. I miss badly the moment of joy When I opened the white envelope With the airplane stamp And placed in my palms your love You had sent in it. I miss badly the joy of mixing My heartbeat with yours.
I still remember Amidst the robust farm workers
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 315
web source:www.khasskhass.com lvDt] v]tsf] vn] u/f l;lgSs} lnk]/ b}Fof/] nf7]x¿sf] x'ndf d klg plePsf] a]nf sldnf h:t} n:s/ nfu]/ cGo kd]{nLx¿;Fu} 6fpsf]df eml/nf] la§f af]s]/ ltdL d]/f] 5]p cfOk'U5f} d Tof] la§f h'?Ss prfn]/ bfOF 9'ª\ufdf k5fb}{ a}F;sf] axfb'/L b]vfpF5' ltdL sDd/sf] dh]qf] y't]/ kfs]sf] ufnf k'5\b} d]/f] cNnf/] t'h's x]/]/ d';'Ss d':sfpFbfsf] Tof] kn, Tof] b[Zo clxn] w]/} ofb cfpF5 ljzfn Tof] lgnf] 5fgf]n] Hof]ltk'~h kmfNb} rfFbL la5fPsf] /ft ltd|f] 9f8df k/fnsf] la§f d]/f] 9f8df w';'gsf] u'G6f 5fFb]/ gf}la;] psfnf] lagfqf; plSnFbf :kGbgsf w8\sgx¿ 5fDg ;lsg] cfglGbt kn of] afx|df;] cftlÍt ;fO/g alh/xg] sf]nfxn ;x/df cf}wL ofb cfpF5
316 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I am standing on the rice thrashing ground Smeared so carefully. Joining other workers, You walk closer to me, A bundle of rice on your head. All at once, I take the bundle And thrash it on the stone To prove my youthful vigor. Pulling the scarf from your waist, You wipe your reddened cheeks, You smile at my youthful vigor. These scenes swim before my eyes now.
I miss badly the silvery night The expansive blue roof overhead, Brightened up with the silvery rays, You, carrying a bundle of straw, Me with a bale of hay on my back, Both struggling up the hill of Naubise, Fearless, carefree. In this town terrified by ever-wailing siren, I miss badly those joyous moments, Throbbing in our hearts.
The sight of cheap love That the lovers never trust each other Unless they verbalize their love– I love you With every kiss Reminds me of our love And the time we had spent In the winter's fair, Sitting at the distance
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 317 l5g l5gdf r'Dag ub}{ …cfO{ ne o'Ú geg]sf] cf/f]kdf …ltdLn] dfof ub}{gf}Ú eGb} 5'l6g] dfof hf]8Lx¿sf] ;:tf] k|]d / lkmtnf] ljZjf;sf] of] gofF o'u b]v]/ xfdLn] k';] d]nfdf Ps 6fFuf k/ a;]/ h'jf/L v]n]/ nfPsf] dfof a};fv] d]nfdf e]6\bf klg p:t} rf]vf] p:t} lgZrn p:t} c6n /lx /xg] Tof] k'/fgf] o'u oxfF x/kn ofb cfpF5 .
Onfd, zflGt8fF8f xfn M cd]l/sf
318 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf And singing the songs. I still remember Our winter love was Fresh, pure and guileless Even after a long time we had seen Each other in the spring's fair. Here in the city I miss those olden days.
Illam, Shanti Danda At present: USA
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 319 o'4df hfg'cl3 ■ ldhf; t]Da]
;f]R5' Pskm]/ cfk"m / cfkmGtx¿nfO{ cfˆgf] elgPsf / cfˆgf agfOPsf j:t'x¿ ;DemG5'÷uG5'÷uD5' sf/0f d uPkl5 km]l/ gkms{g klg ;S5' lhp gkms]{kl5 t s;nfO{ e]6\g] < sf];Fu xfF:g], af]Ng] jf ?g] < s] s] cfˆgf] xf] eg]/ bfaL ug{] < s;} s;}nfO{ ltg'{ kg{] slt xf]nf s;}af6 lng' kg{] klg xf]nf ;DemG5', ;fk6L lnPsf C0fx¿ p7fpg] kg{] afFsLx¿=== d uPF eg] t tL ;a x/fpg] 5g\ sf/0f d hfg klg ;S5' dfG5] g} uPkl5 t C0f p7fpg] s;n] / < afFsL a'emfpg] s;/L < b;L k|df0f s] /xG5 / <
320 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Before Going to War ■ Mijas Tembe
I think about myself, about my near and dear About the things so called mine, About the things I claimed as mine I remember them, I count them, over them I ponder, For I may not be back once I leave. Who will I see when my own body doesn't return?! Who should I laugh with, talk with, cry with?! What to claim as mine? I owe some Some owe me. I reckon the money I have borrowed I reckon the money I have lent When I go, these all will be gone too, For I may not be back once I leave. When I myself is absent, Who will collect the debts? How to pay back the debts? What remains as a proof?
I might have hurt some, I might have made some happy
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 321 v} sltsf] lrQ b'vfPF xf]nf sltnfO{ lrQ a'emfPF xf]nf slt zq' sdfOP slt ldq agfOP ;a}nfO{ ;/;tL{ ;DemG5' Pskm]/== sf/0f d km]l/ ghfUg klg ;S5' of] z/L/ g} ghfu]kl5 t s]sf] zq' sdfpg' < s;nfO{ t;f{pg' < s;af6 t;{g' <
;DemG5' gfnfkfgL o'4sf] Oltxf; klxnf] ljZjo'4, bf];|f] ljZjo'4 kmf]SNofG8 / af]lg{of] sf];f]ef], sflu{n / O/fs ckmuflg:tfg==tfg===tfg==tfg tflgG5' pt}lt/ d]/f] gDa/L h:t} 9Ng klg ;S5' pt} sf/0f 9fNg ;s] t To;} o'4jL/ 9n]F eg] lg axfb'/ x'G5' . o'4df hfg'cl3 ;/;tL{ cfk"m / cfkmGtx¿nfO{ lnPsf / lbPsfx¿ zq' / ldqx¿ clg Oltxf;sf 8/nfUbf–8/nfUbf o'4x¿ sf/0f d Oltxf; klg aGg ;S5' Oltxf; g} alg ;s]kl5 t d s]jn Oltxf; aG5' . a]nfot
322 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf No reckoning, how many enemies I've earned How many friends, I once remember them in a flash, For I may not wake up again. When this body of mine does not wake up, Who should I call my enemies? Who should I call my friends? Who should I frighten? Who will I frighten me?
The history of Nalapani War, The First World War and the Second unfolds Before my eyes So do wars of Falkland and Brunei Kosovo, Kargil and Iraq, Afghanistan ..... I am driven by them I may fall like my soldier friend, If I fell the enemies, I would be a war hero, If I felled, I would be called brave.
Before going to war I remember in a flash myself, my near and dear, My debtors, my creditors My enemies, my friends, And the history of terrifying wars, For I may turn into a history. Once I become a history, Merely will I remain as a history.
Belayat
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 323 cfdf ■ d'lQm uf}td ltd|f] Gofgf]kgdf klUnP/ hLjg lhpg l;s]F klUnP/– t/n, klUnP/– ultzLn hLjg ylk lbof} ddf ltdLn] t/ª\u el/ lbof} ddf ltdLn] ltd|f] kf]N6fdf n's]/ d}n] Zjf; km]g{ l;s]F . pHofnf] ylk lbof} cfFvfdf ltd|f] cfFvfaf6 d}n] b'lgofF b]Vg l;s]F, /ª\ux¿ e/]/ cfFvfdf x]g{ l;sfof} ltd|f] cfFvfaf6 d}n] ;kgf b]Vg l;s]F . af]s]/ 3'dfof} ltdLn] ltd|f] 9f8df a;]/ d}n] af6f] lrGg l;s]F, ltd|f] rfn x]/]/ d}n] v'6\6f rnfpg l;s]F, ltdLn] gyfs]/ lxF8\g l;sfof} gxf/]/ lhTg l;sfof} . ltd|f cf]7sf rfnx¿ x]/]/ d}n] af]Ng l;s]F, zAbx¿ e/]/ lha|f]df ltdLn] dnfO{ ufpg l;sfof},
324 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Mother ■ Mukti Gautam
I learned to live life, Melting in your warmth Melting– liquid Melting–ever flowing You added your life to mine You filled me with waves of life I learned to breathe Hiding myself in your lap.
To my eyes you added light Through your eyes I learned to see the world Filling my eyes with hues You taught me to see the world Through your eyes, I learned to dream. You carried me around Riding on your back, I saw the paths of life I learned to move my feet, Watching your steps Untiring, you taught me to walk Undefeated, you taught me to win.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 325 /f]P/ JoQm ug]{ efjgfnfO{ ltdLn] af]nLdf 9fNg l;sfof}, ltdL pQd sfl/u8 eP/ cf]7x¿df d':sfg eg{ l;sfof} dnfO{ lhpg l;sfof} . d]/L Kof/L cfdf Û ltdL czQm x'Fbf d]/f cfFvfx¿n] ltdLnfO{ b'lgofF b]vfpg ;lsgF d]/f v'6\6fx¿n] ltdLnfO{ lxF8fpg ;lsgF / ltdLnfO{ cfˆgf] sfvdf /fv]/ Zjf; km]/fpg ;lsgF ltd|f] clGtd cj:yfdf d dfq x]l//x]F lsgls d cfdf x'g ;lsgF . ltd|f] Gofgf]kgdf klUnP/ d ultzLn aUg rfxGy]F, ltdL cfkm} lr;f] eof} lgd{d / s7f]/ lr;f] ultxLg / t/ª\uxLg lr;f] ;fob d[To' lyof] Tof] . d]/L Kof/L cfdf Û d ljjz x]l/ /x]F ltdL h:tf] ddf hfb' lyPg hLjg lbg] ddf ltdL h:tf] snf lyPg ltdLdf h:tf] ddtf lyPg hLjg ;hfpg] lsgls d cfdf x'g ;lSbgF . rf}/hxf/L, ?s'd xfn M Sofg8f
326 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Reading your lips, I learned to speak You taught me to sing, filling my tongue with words You taught me to express in words my feelings That would otherwise be expressed in cry A perfect craftswoman, you filled my lips with smile You taught me to live life
Dear Mother! My eyes could not show you the world When you were failing My legs could not walk you around And I could not keep you in my lap To comfort your breathing All that I did watch your plight, For I failed to be a mother. I wished to flow, Melting in your warmth, But, alas! You had already turned cold The cold was ruthless, cruel, Motionless, devoid of waves Probably, that was Death! Dear Mother! Helpless, I kept staring Unlike you I possessed no magic to give life I possessed no art I possessed no motherly-love to adorn life, For I failed to be a mother. Chaurajhari, Rukum At present : Canada
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 327 d}n] 5f]8]sf] 3/ b]z ■ d'gf l;Ub]n cnkq 5f8]sf ofbx¿ d]/L cfdfn] ;u'gdf lbPsf] lrgf];Dd ;lsgF Nofpg ;Fu} cfF;' emfg{ g;sL /f]Psf d]/f cfFvfx¿ t8\lk /x]5g\ d kmls{g' 5 rfF8} ÛÛ ;'G5' emf]nf af]s]/ k|b]z nfUbfsf uNnL klg of] kfln k}/f] n] aufof] /] l5§} kmls{g kfpFm eGb} efs]sf eujfg\sf dlGb/, d"lt{ klg eUgfjz]if agfof] cln slt ;fx; a6'n]/ clnslt w}o{ a6'n]/ d kmls{g' 5 rfF8} ÛÛ o;kfln d[To'nfO{ k/flht u/]sf d]/f a'af cfdfsf ;kgf k'/f ug{' 5 d}n] d?e"lddf km'Ng] k'mn n}hfg' k|s[ltn] g} phf8]sf] 5 d]/f] 3/b]z olt a]nf
328 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Home I Left Behind ■ Muna Sigdel
I could not carry along the scattered memories Not even the token of good luck my mother had offered My eyes that failed to shed tears Are crying, so restive I am to return home soon!!
They say the alleys that I had walked With a backpack are swept away by the landslide They say the temple and the god within Are buried in the debris I am to return home soon, Mustering some courage, some patience !!
I have to fulfill the dream of my parents, Who have defeated Death this time I have to take along a flower blooming in the desert Nature has left my home, my country desolate I have to restore life in these desolate settlements I am to return home soon!! I am to carry along the priceless balm To those torn and crumbled huts
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 329 km]l/ Tof] phf8 a:tLdf x/fe/f agfpg' 5 d kmls{g' 5 rfF8} ÛÛ elTsPsf em'k8L 5fk|fx¿df l;pFbf] k'l5Psf ;FuLx¿ sfv l/lQPsf cfdfx¿ cgfy / 6'x'/f aRrfx¿sf nflu lsg]/ lsGg} gkfOg] b'vfOsf] dnd lnP/ hfg' 5 Gofgf] dfofsf] cfef; lnP/ hfg' 5 o;}n] d kmls{g' 5 rfF8} ÛÛ
pnf{af/L–$, a/uf5L, df]/ª xfn M Oh/fon
330 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf where live the parentless, helpless children, The mothers whose children are snatched away from their laps And my widowed friends They are all waiting for my warm love So I am to return home soon.
Urlabari–4, Bargachhi, Morang At present: Israel
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 331 P Û kf]6f]Dofs Û ■ df]xg l;6f}nf kf]6f]Dofs Û d tf cfPF ltd|f 5]p s'/f u¿F w}/} a]/ a;f}F ;fy} vf]h"F zflGt / zfGTjgf eg]/ lbnsf ;f/f kvfn"F lrQ sf] dn ;Gb]xn] s]xL eG5', x] ldq Û ;'lgb]pm g lt/:sf/ u/L d}df g kG5fpm st} klg h;/L dg'jf u5{g\ dgsf k/vfnn] . c;ª\VofIf/sf tfFtL cb[Zo rfn e}mF u/L em'lG8G5g\ h;/L r'Rrf n]vgL sljsf el/ agfpg gofF zAb, ljDa, Wjlg / Jo~hgf To;/L g} d b]Vb} 5' cfsfª\Iffx¿ jIfsf cfFvfsf kl/b[Zodf em'lG8P /f]zgL el/ lkmFlhP/ ;a} JofKt lgnf] ltd|f] z/L/df lanfP Zj]t lkmFh}df ;f}DofgGb :j¿kdf . kf]6f]Dofs cxf] Û ltd|f] hnsf d[b' jfudf c;ª\Vo nx/L d:t b]V5' cfgGb v]ndf /ª\lug hLjgLrqm w"k–5fofF /dfOnf] Û jf;gf lnG5' k'mn}sf] cnf}lss ld7f;df lglndf / v'nf ljZj h;n] r'Dag ub{5g\
332 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Oh ! Potomac ! ■ Mohan Sitoula
Oh ! Potomac ! I have come to thee to speak out my heart for hours, seek consolation and purge the dirt of my delicate mind, my friend ! Oh ! Listen to me my dear and do not marginalize me alone like the mental walls of ours !
Like the countless letters unseen hung in the points of bards' pens bard to make words, images and meanings ! I see the aspirations of spirits hung in the rays of the eye-sights, melted in your blissful white foams of the blue.
Oh ! Potomac ! I see the joy of colorful life in the sports of light and shadows in your countless ripples of the garden of water I smell the heavenly fragrance of flowers that kiss the blue sky and the wide world
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 333 To;}a]nf cb[Zo}sf] ;do d'6' leqsf] jxG5, ;fptL u5{ clncnL anLanL . x] lk|o Û s;/L ;DemL a:5f} ctLtsf lbg clg s;f]/L x]b{}5f} cfhsf b'Mv, lrGtgf < ta t b"/sf xNnf lrRofx6\ / sf]nfxn cfP/ ¿k km]b}{ 5g\ oxfFsf ;ª\ultx¿ kl/jlt{t eO /G5g\ :yfgLo ;To ;'Gb/ Û d tf lg:;fl;/xG5' ;femf, l;ª\uf] dg}el/ lgwf{ lgd'vf ;f/fsf kL8f, eosf kIfdf ltgsf Dnfg 5fofFn] b'Mvsf] ;fu/} agL cgGt;Dd lk/f]N5g\ l;ª\uf] zfZjt lrQdf Û kf]6f]Dofs cxf] Û d]/f] h;} hLjg ltdLdf ;fFl6 lbG5',t;} d]/f t/ª\u ;"Id efjsf agfpF5g\ dxf5fn pRr kxf8sf ;l/ 9fSb5g\ ltgn] ;f/f ltd|f jIf ;a}lt/ oxfF d ca 9Nb} 5' afn'jfdf lj/lQmn] t/ ltdL af]nfpF5f} df]xgLdo efjn] b"/df hfg tTsfn} :jKgLn b]z ;'Gb/ Û kf]6fDofs ltdL u5f}{ ;dL/ l;h{gf gofF enfO ljZjsf nflu, Zjf;—k|Zjf; To;sf slt k|zfGt 5g\ cfxf Û ltgn] d[b' 5b{5g\ ;Gb]zx¿ ;j{q, k|ltWjlg d ;'Gb5' ;j{q aflx/ km]l/ tFleq klg ;'Gb5' cfjfh zflGtsf, Gofo, :jftGœosf dxfg\ tL Û
To;/L ha d ;'G5' cfjfh ;j{Jofks clg ;lDemG5', d b]V5' tGb|fdf Ps b]z g}
334 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf when the unseen time of my heart flows that whispers me with some glows.
Oh! Dear ! How do you remember the past years and observe the present causes of cares ? that the distant calls of fearful cries are reshaping the local realities !
I am gasping in the collective psyche for the fears and pains of the innocent kind drops of their shadows are making a sea of sufferings in the universal mind !
Oh ! Potomac! As I transfer my life to you the series of tiny ripples of my feelings make ridges of waves in your bosom here I tend to fall down on the sand but you invite me away to reach the dreamland !
Oh ! Potomac! The breaths of the wind, that you create for the good of the world, so gentle, spread a message all around and I listen to the echoes out and in thee the great voices of peace, justice and liberty.
When I listen to the wide voices, I remember a land ! I see it in my contemplation and breath it in my nostrils ! Then a sense of sorrows and compassions come to my vision as un-feared phantoms of revered reveries for my dear and near ones to raise them - lost in the quest in a jungle of a confused country that was there in the history of a proud nation with all its identity- long back,
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 335 Zjf;—k|Zjf;df lnG5' gfssf b'O{ Kjfnn] clg tf cfpF5g\ ;f]r kL8f / s?0ff;Fu} d]/f oL kl/b[Zodf dgsf sNkgf el/ lbjf:jKGf ;/L b]vf k5{g\ ljlrq 5b\\d g} ceo bfgsf eJo gofFsf/ ;'dª\un p7fpg egL ;f/f Kof/f cfkmGt ldq tL x/fPsf lyP hf] hf] vf]hdf jgdf k/L P]ltxfl;s Tof] b]z x/fPYof] cGof]ndf :jfeLdfgL lyof] ;fFRr} cl:dtf kl/k"0f{ Yof] . w]/} kl5 oxfF Ao'F‰of] rfxgf, ;Demgf ld7f] lnP/, e|fGt :jKgfsf] ;fd'b|L lj3\gdf 7'nf] k/]h:t} u/L P]n] Ao'FlemPsf] czfGtdf plDsPsf], pt;]{sf], eml:sPsf] ldhf;df Û kf]6fDofs tF wGo} 5;\ Û d s] eg"F, u?F c¿ Û
cd]l/sf
336 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf now revived in wistful memories after a sudden jerk of sea wreck in a terrible dream ! Oh ! Potomac! I thank thee, and what could I do you any more !
America
Translation : Mohan Sitoula
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 337 olb d kmls{PF eg] ■ /If /fO{ cfkfsf] cfFugdf gofF 3fd pbfpg] 5 cfdfsf] cu]gfdf csf]{ h'g d':s'/fpg] 5 k|]o;Lsf] dg dem]/Ldf km]l/ h'gls/Ln] lrxfpg] 5 l5d]sLsf] afF;3f/Ldf ‰ofpFls/L s/fpg] 5 km]l/ 3/sf] ;fDvfsf] efn] af:g] 5 pQ/ cfsfz tfs]/ s¥ofªs'?ª p8\g] 5g\ cfdfx¿ sf]7]af/Ldf sfFqmf km;L{ /f]Kg] 5g\ /fjf / tfjf vf]nfdf lxdfnsf] 7]ufgf ;f]Wb} ltt]df5fx¿ kmls{g] 5g\ sfFzL af;kl5 kmls{Psf uf}FynLx¿ blngdf u'F8 nufpg] 5g\ gofF km'n kfg]{ 5g\ / ar]/f sf9\g] 5g\ dnfO{ :kz{ u/]/ atf; agkfvf 8'Ng] 5 dnfO{ 5f]P/ vf]nfx¿ nf]s uLt ufpg] 5g\ olb d kmls{PF eg] . sqf] ;kgf;Fu} dnfO{ hGdfof] d]/f] ufpFn] o'4df x/fPsf] 5f]/f] kfP/ xif{n] cr]t x'g] 5 km]l/ ufpFsf] Psn] lkkn atf;;Fu} uLt ufpg] 5 pbf; ;fFem kv]{/ a;]sf] dxle/ 8fF8f pHoflng] 5 Tof] pHofnf] d'lGt/sf] lgh{g cfFugdf
338 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Lest I return ■ Raksha Rai
A new sun will rise in the father’s courtyard Another moon will smile in the mother’s patio In the beloved’s heart, the firefly will again peep into In the bamboo thicket of neighbors the cicada will start making strange noises The rooster in-house will crow once again The migrating geese will take their flight heading to the northern skies The mothers will start planting cucumbers and pumpkins in the orchard Deep inside the Rawa and Tawa rivers The tiny fishes will return back asking the address of mountain The swallows returning after an exile at Kashi will build a nest in the rafter They will lay eggs and hatch new offspring Touching me, the breeze gently makes its way around the forest Lest I return.
With such a big dream did my village gave me birth The extreme happiness of having found her son lost in the war Again someone from the village
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 339 km]l/ d]/f gfgLx¿ slnnf ;kgf;Fu} v]Ng] 5g\ Tof] pHofnf] d'lGt/sf] lgzAb l;s'jfdf d]/f ar]/fx¿ 9'ª\uf / df6fsf cIf/x¿ k9\g] 5g\ km]l/ dh]qf]n] 6fpsf] afFw]/ d]/L k|]o;L a;f}{+ lal;{Psf] kFw]/f wfpg] l5g\ dfG5]sf] ;'jf;n] of] df6f] dudufpg] 5 dfG5]sf] au}+rfn] of] wtL{ km'Ng] 5 ;lbof}Fb]lv o'4n] rkfPsf] of] ufpFn] o'uf}F o'ub]lv o'4n] lgn]sf] of] 3/n] 5f]/fsf] d[To'sf] ;gfvt u/]/ cfF;' aufpg kg]{ 5}g d[t 5f]/f]sf] nf; a'em]/ km]l/ cfdfn] 8fF8fdflysf] h'gdf o'4sf] 3fp x]/]/ ?g kg]{ 5}g olb d kmls{PF eg] .
vf]6fª xfn M a]nfot
340 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf will start singing along the Peepul and breeze. The Mahabir hill, waiting for the dejected dawn will shine up brightly Under the desolated courtyard of that brightness My children will again start playing with the infant dreams Under the silent porch of that brightness My children will start studying the alphabet of stone and mud Covering her head with the scarf My beloved will go to fetch water from the water source after so many years The aroma of people will fill this area with fragrance This land will flourish with the orchard of people This village grinded by conflict from time immemorial This house swallowed by war since a long time No one will have to identify the dead body of the son and trickle silent tears The mother after having verified the corpse of her son Will not have to at least cry watching the gash of war With moon peeping in from the thin passage of hill Lest I return.
Khotang At Present : Belayat
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 341 P]gf ■ /hgL >]i7 leQfdf em'lG8Psf] P]gf k|ltljDa ;d]6L /dfO /x]5 efjb[li6 cfkmF}leq hLjgsf kl/efiff ag]/ . :ki6 lgikIf, /fd|f] g g/fd|f] wgL ul/a k/fO{ g cfˆgf] zAbljxLg hut\ b]vfpg] P]gf . cfkm}leq n's]sf] 5 ;doljgfsf] uGtJo/lxt P]gf cfFvfleqsf] clNemPsf] 5fof . P]gfdf kl/dflh{t lxdfn lxpFd} 6lNsP/ /dfPsf] ;"o{sf] k|sfz;Fu} cfTd;ft\df /ª\luPsf] tfhf lxdfn d?e"ldsf afn'jfx¿ P]gf;/x g} 5fofdf KofsKoflsP/ Kof; kfgLsf] cf;df .
342 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com A Mirror ■ Rajani Shrestha
A mirror hanging on the wall Is enjoying in the reflection, Encasing a multitude of moods As if definitions of life.
The mirror that reflects the wordless world– Its reflection transparent, unbiased Indifferent to the good and the bad The rich and the poor The familiar and the unfamiliar.
Within itself is hidden a mirror Timeless and aimless A reflection entangled in the eyes.
The mountain so colorful and fresh In the presce of sunlight Has turned into a mirror The desert sand turning into a mirror Is lying thirsty, waiting for water.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 343 cf; tGsfO{ cfsfzdf u'xf/]sf] jiff{ ;ª\3if{zLn hLjgsf] k|ltljDa xf] P]gf . h:tfsf] t:t} ptf/L k|ToIf k|ltljDax¿ hLjgsf] kl/efiff af]s]/ em'lG8Psf] 5 3/sf] Ps s'gfdf . efjb[li6 hut\df ;f]r]h:t} b]lvg] dgsf afGsLx¿ P]gfdf ;n{Ss hLjg e]l6g] . lxhf] lyof] cfh 5}g oL d'xf/ / lbgx¿ P]gfleq clNkP tL k|s[ltsf d'xf/x¿ . emns ag]/ ;[li6sf] em'lG8 /x]5 P]gfx¿ P]gf;/x emlNsPsf e'jg ;dfh / ;+:s[lt kl/efiff ;d]6]/ hLjg k|ltljDa ag]sf] P]gf dflg; dflg;sf b[li6df P]gf hut\s} ;[li6df . dfG5]lar dfG5] km/s ¿k clg /ªx¿ ;du| s}b 5 P]gfleq hLjgsf Oltxf;x¿ .
cd]l/sf
344 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The mirror is the hope stretched heavenward, Calling out for rain, And the reflection of the life brimmed-with struggle.
There hangs a mirror in the corner of my room, Bearing the definitions of life intact, undistorted.
We find ourselves in the world As our thoughts and moods We see in the mirror the hues of our heart Intact and undistorted.
Those faces have disappeared in the mirror So have those days and faces of nature.
Mirrors are hanging, Bearing the flashes of Creation Like mirrors are reflecting our lives The world, societies, cultures and definitions The mirror, the reflection of life The mirror in the creation of the world.
Men are different from each other So are their forms and colors, Yet histories of life are imprisoned in the mirror.
America
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 345 cxª\sf/leqsf] …Osf/;Ú ■ /d]z yfkf cfˆgf] cxª\sf/nfO{ lxdfn eG7fg]/ dfG5] Osf/;n] e}mF cfsfz tfls /xG5 cledfgn] pld|Psf tL kv]6fx¿df ePe/sf] ann] cfˆgf] cl:tTj a]/L cfkm} 3fF6L Gofls /xG5 . Osf/; ag]kl5 dfG5]– e'N5 cfˆgf kv]6fx¿sf] ;fdYo{ clg cfkmN5 cfkm}nfO{ oyfy{tfsf] tftf] 3fddf 88fpF5 cfˆgf cledfgsf /ª\uLg ;kgfx¿ . aG5 s'? If]qdf o'4 xf/]sf] Ps 3fon of]4f af]S5 yfKnf]df hLjge/ Unflg / xLgtfsf] l;ª\u} kxf8 .
Sofg8f
346 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Icarus Buried in Vanity ■ Ramesh Thapa
Mistaking their vanity for the mountain, Men, like Icarus, aim at the heavens.
They throttle themselves, Encumbering their vanity-fed wings With their own existence. Once turned into Icarus, Men forget the strength of their wings And throw themselves in the scorching heat of reality And burn the colorful wings of their vanity.
They turn out to be the defeated warrior In the battleground of Kurukshetra, And keep wandering through life, Encumbered with the mountain of regret and malaise.
Canada
Translated by Bal Ram Adhikari
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 347 :jLsf/ ■ /fhg /fO{ x/fP/ d ltdLleq afFRg' 5 ltd|f] nflu s]xL ug{' 5 km]l/ dg{' 5 ltd|} nflu
8f]¥ofP/ k|]ldn ofqfdf l;sfP/ dfofn' aftx¿ psfnf] r9]Yof} dflydfly cf/f]x0f rf]df]n'ªdf nIo agfO{ dfofsf] cIftf k'mnkftL r9fP/ eGHofËdf a}F;fn' kl;gf b'O{ d'6' ;fIfL /fvL ;':tfPYof} b]p/fnLdf au]Yof} slxn] gbL;l/ uN5L, 5fFuf, bx x'Fb} /d0fLo kmfF6 5'Fb} ;fu/ uGtJo 5'g
348 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Acceptance ■ Rajan Rai
Getting lost in you I have to live for you, Many things yet to be done and again I have to die for you.
Guiding you through a romantic journey, Teaching you some endearing talks, Climbing uphill, Ascending the summit, With aim as high as Everest The divine colors of love Offering floral worship to the holy gorge, Youthful travail With two hearts aswitness We tookrest at the edge of hilltop.
Sometimes we gushed like rivers Through ravines, waterfalls and lakes Over the beautiful flat land To touch the oceanic destination. When we stumbled at the shore like waves
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 349 lsgf/fdf 5fn agL k5fl/Fbf ;'sf]dn skf; xftn] p7fpFYof} dnfO{ kf]vfpFYof} d]/f] kL8f ltd|f ulx/f] cfFvfdf e'n]/ cfk"mnfO{ ;dflxt x'Gy]F d ltdLdf pmhf{ a6'n]/ dfofsf] xfO8«f] kfj/af6 cGwsf/ af6fx¿ l6nlkn aNYof} aNe agL h'gnfO{ lh:SofpFb} cfh d ltdLd} ;dflxt 5' d]/f] cl:tTj ltdLl;t 5 vf]Hg rfxGg dnfO{ ltdLn] lnP/ uP klg bfaL ulb{gF …dÚnfO{ lkmtf{ b]pm eg]/ cfk"m x/fpg'df klg d}n] xfl/gF g t ltdL lht]/ g} uof} t/ klg cfh ToxL ofqfsf] ememNsf] cfO /xG5 cgf}7f] u/L /]lu:tfgdf .
Rofg8fF8f– *, 8fF8fufpF, vf]6fª xfn M stf/
350 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf You used to lift me With your soft velvety hands You trickled all my agony In your profound eyes. Letting myself lost I used to get engrossed in you, Gathering energy From the hydropower of affection The dark roads Would shine brightly with your bulb like stature Making fun of the illuminated Moon.
Even today - I am engrossed in you My existence is in you I wouldn’t come out to find myself Even if you take me away from me. I wouldn’t claim to return myself to me Lest I should go astray. I didn’t lose Neither did you win.
But today Memories of that journey are is haunting me In a mysterious manner – in this arid desert.
Chyandanda-8, Danda gaun, Khotang At Present : Qatar
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 351
web source:www.khasskhass.com lau AofË ■ /fhLj g]kfn ‘c6\jf’ d]/f] a|Xd / y't'gf] lar 9s, t/fh' 5}g OlGr6]k, ?n/ 5}g Hofjnsf 6fs6's 5}gg\, zAbx¿ lrNn\ofOFb}gg\ . lrgLsf kfsx¿df jfSox¿ 8'afOFb}gg\ . sfFr} 5 egL ksfOGg . cf]Olnof];\ eg]/ ;'sfOGg . klUnof];\ eg]/ kmsfOGg . d]/f] a|Xd / y't'gf] lar k|zf]wg s]Gb| 5}g . ;+zf]wg s]Gb| 5}g . dfG5]x¿sf] x'ndf, cldnf], lk/f], lr;f] ;f;n], d lg:;fl;G5' . x8\8Lsf km'6an v]nf8Lx¿sf], lgof]lht / sf]cl8{g]6]8 k|xf/n] cflQG5' / ‰ofn vf]N5' .
352 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Big Bang ■ Rajiv Nepal ‘Atwa’
Between my conscience and speech - There are no weighing scales. No measuring tapes. No forging of smiths. For words aren’t - molded - or dipped in sugary syrups Words - are left undone even if raw - aren’t dried for fear of withering out - or are least spread, lest they melt away Between my conscience and speech - No treatment centers exist. No amendment plans reside.
Amidst the swarming herd of people I get suffocated with their sour, spicy, cold gasps. With the planned and coordinated attack Of the soccer players of bones I get panic-stricken and let my windows wide open.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 353 aflx/ rf]sdf y'kfl/Psf], bf]af6f]df s'lxPsf] kmf]xf]/sf], tLa| uGwn] sf]7f ?dlnG5 . s]xL /fxt xf]nf ls egL 9f]sf vf]N5', sf]7fleqsf] ª\of/ª\of/ ª'/ª'/sf] /ldtf x]g{, ;f/f l5d]sLx¿ hDdf x'G5g\ . sf]7fnfO{ g} o'lge;{ 7fGg]x¿n] ‰ofn9f]sf vf]n]sf] lgx'Fdf, k[YjLsf] 5]pdf nu]/ ws]lnPsf] lj:yflkt d, lgof{ltt d . e"tsfndf 6fpsf] uf8]/ eljiosf] ;kgf afFl8 /xg];Fu, em'q], la/fdL / d}nf] jt{dfgsf] lrgfkrL{ u/fPsf] lgx'Fdf, /QmjLh dxf/fhsf] cj;fgkl5 pTklQ ePsf gfª\uf /fhfx¿nfO{ ;'?jfn pkxf/ lbPsf] cf/f]kdf, 3'Dbf 3'Db} tf/f aG5' eGg] lbjf ;kgfdf lgln{Kt u|xx¿n], lgufxdf kfPsf] lbgsf] cfj]zdf, alS;;df kfPsf] tfksf] dftdf, clS;hgsf] l;lnG8/leq sfa{g df]gf]S;fO8 e/]/, z}lIfs e|d0fdf k7fOPsf] cGtl/If ofqL d . d]/f cfFvf l7s kfg]{ axfgfdf ha/h:tL em'G8\ofO lbPsf df]6f df]6f n]G;x¿
354 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The stack of garbage thrown across the crossroads The reek of rotten litter loitering carelessly over the alley Paints an unpleasant color to my room. With a hope of letting in some fresh air of comfort I open the door. To relish the pathetic scene inside my room The neighbors gather around. On pretext of having opened up my confined spaces The ones who fathom a mere room as their universe Hurl me to this edge of the Earth A displaced soul I am. An imported piece of disgrace.
The ones living in their past buts upplying hopes of future - On pretext of introducing them with the tattered and battered present With a blame of having gifted a pair of trousers to a bunch of bare rulers who emerged soon after the demise of blood-hungry monarchs The uselessly wandering planets That dreamt of being bright stars one day, On excitement of having made that day by someone’s grace On intoxication of the intensity of someone’s favor filling carbon-monoxide inside oxygen cylinders I am a space traveler sent off on an educational tour.
For smashing those big fat lenses forcefully hung over my face by wheedling me of curing my eyes For disapproving the law of physics formulated by the beautiful plump gold fishes
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 355 km'6fO lbPsf] lgx'Fdf, uf]nf] l;;fleq bfgf vfP/ df]6fPsf /x/nfUbf uf]N8 lkm;x¿n] u/]sf lkmlhS;sf JofVofx¿ c:jLsf/ u/]sf] cf/f]kdf, gofF c;Lldt lj:tf/sf nflu lau AofËsf] sfdgf u/]sf] ck/fwdf cd]hgsf] lardf 5fl8 lbP/ sfnfxfl/df u/]sf] ;r{ PG8 /]:So' ck/];gsf] 3f]lift c;kmntf d .
Sofg8f
356 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf living inside the fishbowl on spoon-fed rations On guilty of having desired a Big Bang for a new and infinite stretch left stranded in the middle of Amazon I am that alleged failure of the search and rescue operation at Kalahari.
Canada
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 357 b]z b'Vtf dgel/ ■ /fh]Gb| k|;fb k|;fO{+ ljklQn] ug{' u¥of], ljdltn] df¥of], /f]lsPgg\ cfdf cfF;', ;'Sg eof] ufx|f] Û vf]nfgfnf eSsflgFb}, ?G5g\ au]/, :jb]z xf]Og ljb]zdf, kl;gf uf] v]/ ÛÛ k'Ug' kg]{ 7'nf af6f, ;fFu'/Lsf dgleq, k'g{' kg]{ 7'nf vf8n, ul/aLsf jgleq Û Pstfdf h'6\g' kg]{, kf}/vLsf xft, ef]sf] k]6 cGg dfU5, lsg rflxof] hft ÛÛ wd{ eGb} y}nL vf]Nb}, lkm/ª\uLsf] 3'OFrf], yf]kl/g] cflwkTo, lkmtf{ dfUb} k}Frf] Û csf{lt/ cGw ljZjf;, cf]sn]/ w]/, hflt kftL 5'jf5't, s] sf] wd{ xf] / ÛÛ
;}of}F hflt ;}of}F y'Fuf, Pstfdf pg], kf}/vLsf] d'xf/ xfF:5, cem} lsg ?g] Û cf:yfsf] of] ;u/dfyf, c6n x'g' k5{, ljZjf;sf] w/x/f, csf]{ aGg' k5{ ÛÛ
358 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Pain of Country Spilled over the Heart ■ Rajendra Prasad Prasain
Calamities made things tougher, and unwanted minds disrupted even more Torrential downpour off the eyes O mother, it’s hard to let it cease. The rivers are wailing, with uproars high And all grind gone invested in the foreign land On the narrow lanes of the heart, had to pave wide roads Had to bridge large gaps from the heart of destitution The hardworking hands had to join for a cause of unity But empty bellies demand- food - so why to look for caste? Opening bags full of money to preach religion are the preachers Laden their authoritativeness and demanding their investment back Puking extreme sounds of superstition all way large Racism and untouchability - does any religion ask for? Hundreds of castes and hundreds posies kneaded all in one One who toils meticulously seldom should cry This Everest of faith should unfalteringly stand high And this lofty tower of belief-Dharahara should be erected again.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 359 w]/} au] cfF;' df]tL, ca ?Sg' k5{, km'6\g] dgsf lr/f lr/f, ca h'6\g' k5{ Û sf]xL p7 cl3 ;/, xf]:6] eg]/, >dsf tfFtL kl5 nfU5g\ x}+;] eg]/ ÛÛ
xfn M Sofg8f
360 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Pearls of tears flowing from a long time - should now cease to flow Those hearts broken apart - should form a bead again Someone stand up, move ahead and lend your helping hand A fleet of hardworking souls will surely follow you behind.
Canada
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 361 cfkm\g} b]z kmsL{ hfFbf=== /fh]Gb| >]i7 g]kfn xfd|f] hGde"ld ljZj sd{e"ld 5f]8L :jb]z lxF8\of} ljb]z b]z r'gLr'gL . kfFr} dxfb]z ;of}F b]z 7fpF 7fpFdf xfdL, sd{ u/L al;/f5f}F dg dfgL gdfgL . k|fljlw1, k|fWofks / jlsn, 8fS6/ sf]xL, eJo sf]xL sgLs'yL a;]sf 5g\ sf]xL . ;'ljwf / ;Eotfn] of] ;f/f ljZj leGg, dft[e"ld ;DemL cfˆgf] dg x'G5 lvGg . kfkL k]6sf] dfdnf ;an] sd{ ug{} kg{], lj8Dagf sd{ vf]Hg ljb]z hfg} kg{] . hlGdP/ x'ls{Psf] Tof] b]z cfˆg} Kof/f], cf1fkq lng hfFbf of] dg ?G5 ;f/f] . clgbf] / kl;gfn] leh]sf] s]xL sdfO cfwf/l;n} nufgLsf] x'Gg lgod geO{ . hut e/d} 5/k§ g]kfnL xf}F xfdL cfˆg} b]z kmls{ hfFbf Pg=cf/=Pg xfdL .
cd]l/sf
362 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf On Returning My Homeland Rajendra Shrestha
Nepal is our homeland and the world our workplace Leaving our motherland, we moved abroad to different places All of the five continents and hundreds of countries we reside We are working there even though our heart accepts it or not.
Some are professors, engineers or some are doctors and lawyers Some with high-living standard and some with basic adjustments This world turned out to be different with civilization and convenience But remembering the motherland this heart goes sour. For meeting both ends- we have to work anyhow anywhere It’s such a tragedy that we have to seek opportunity abroad Have love for this very country where we were born and brought up Heart cries in melancholy when we apply for visa abroad. Some meager savings made out of hard work and sleeplessness No road for investment in our country when rules don’t prevail We are the Nepalese scattered across the globe On returning my homeland, we are tagged as NRN.
America
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 363
web source:www.khasskhass.com afs; ■ /fd s'“j/ d?e"ldsf] b]zaf6 Ps afs; sf];]nL cfPsf] 5 t/ 8/fO /x]5g\ dfG5]x¿ sf];]nL km'sfpg Û aGbsL /fv]/ lax]sf] ltnx/L a]r]/ b'x'gf] e}F;L gk'u]/ /fv]/ aGbsL u}/L v]t p8]sf] jif{ lbg gx'Fb} kmls{of] ;a} yf]s ;kgfx¿ vfFlbP/ afs;df
;fgf] 5f]/f] cfFugsf] afs;nfO{ 7'nf] v]nf}gf 7fG5 a'9f cfdfafa' lwSsfb}{ sd{nfO{ r]tgfz"Go 5g\ lk|o;L ptf lkF9Ldf cw{r]tdf 9n]sL 5g\
364 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf A Casket ■ Ram Kunwar
From the nation of hot arid deserts a casket full of gifts has arrived But people are afraid to open it up.
Mortgaging the wedding necklace Selling off the dairy buffalo If that’s not enough putting a small piece of land mortgaged barely a year after flying out everything came back, the dreams crammed inside the casket.
The youngest son considers it a large toy that casket laid down in the courtyard. The old parents chiding over their fate are in a state of unconsciousness. The beloved wife at the entrance is lying in half sense.
How can destiny itself be such a curse to life? But -
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 365 n]vfGt g} hLjgsf] clezfk s;/L aGg ;S5 < t/ oxfF la8Dagfsf]] hLjg hln /x]5
P] ;f/ª\uL bfO Û ltdL cfO k'Uof} < Vff]Hb} / ;'gfpFb} hLjgsf uLtx¿ k'vf}{nL la8f]df klxrfg ltd|f] dfq TolQ < ltdL slxn] layf]ljg x'g] < slxn] /ljzª\s/ x'g] < ltd|f nflu cfh oxfF ;[hgfsf] ;|f]t aGof] ltd|f] ;f/ª\uLn] oxL uLt ;''gfpFbf b'lgofFx¿ uLtsf] cfgGbdf ltdLnfO{ b'O{rf/ ?k}ofF b]nfg\ ltd|f] 5fs 6nf{ cflv/ hLjg rn]s} 5 hxfF uP/ /f]lsG5– ToxL;Dd .
stf/
366 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf They are burning in a life quirk of fate. Hey fiddle man! Oh, have you come? Finding and playing the songs of life An inherited ancestral identity Is that enough? When will we see you as Beethoven? When are you playing like Ravishankar?
For you now- It has come to be a source of creativity When your fiddle plays off the same song The world enjoys the strumming of your strings and give your few rupees. Maybe that will feed your family for a day.
Afterall, life it is – it goes on But till there- after where it stops.
Qatar
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 367 b]z b'v]sf] a]nf ■ /fdxl/ kf}8\ofn
Oltxf;s} 8/nfUbf] dxfljklQn] b]z efl;Psf a]nf, k|s[ltsf lgd{d yKk8x¿n] b]z sflk /x]sf a]nf, x]bf{ x]b}{ cfˆg} cfFugdf cfkmGtx¿ k'l/Psf a]nf, ;lsg ;dfpg / ;lsgF arfpg k/b]z kL8fsf] of] s6' oyfy{ Û d slxNo} eOgF s;}sf] d[To'df dnfdL d slxNo} ePgF s;}sf] v';Ldf ;nfdL Û 6'n' 6'n' x]l/ /x]5' lala;L / l;PgPg, km];a'ssf leQfx¿ /ª\luPsf 5g\ e'OFrfnf]do ag]/ b]lv /x]5' ;'Gb/ b]z x]bf{ x]b}{ v08x/ ag]sf] x]l/ /x]sf] 5' cf:yfsf] w/x/f w'ln;ft ePsf] k|frLg d7 dlGb/x¿ u'lN6Psf] xfd|f] :jfledfg xfd|f] klxrfg d]l6Fb} uPsf] 9Nb} u/]sf] b/af/ :SjfP/, 6]sf] nufP/ hf]ufPsf] k|l;4 s[i0f dlGb/ s+lqm6sf] ;fd|fHodf eTs]/ v08x/ ag]sf] d]/f] b]zsf] /fhwfgL cfˆg} Hofg hf]ufpg efUb} u/]sf le8x¿ ql;t sf]nfxn Û e"sDkb]lv dgf]/f]un] u|:t ÛÛ k6s k6ssf] k/fsDkb]lv eUgfjz]ifaf6 arfpm Û arfpm ÛÛ sf] cft{gfb
368 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com When the Country is in Pain ■ Ramhari Paudyal
At a time when the country is handicapped due to the history’s most devastating calamity Of a time when the country is shivering by the brutal slaps of mother nature. When, in a jiffy, our family members got buried before our eyes Neither could I save nor hold their hands A stark reality of this foreign settlement. I could never be in the funeral procession of anyone I could never participate in the happiness of anyone I am just staring blankly at the screens of BBC and CNN The walls of facebook are painted with posts of tremor I am seeing the beautiful country turn into a ruin I am watching the tower of belief Dharahara collapsing Ancient temples and heritage sites turned into ashes Our self-esteem and our identity wiped out gradually The old Durbar Square falling down Krishna Temple standing on a support The capital of my country - The concrete kingdom turned into ruin The crowd running for their lives Appalling clamor – from the earthquake
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 369 s;/L x]?F of] b]zsf] aaf{bL < s;/L x]¿F of] b]zsf] b'u{lt < k'/} b]z zf]sdf 8'a]sf a]nf k'/} b]z ljgfzsf] tfG8jn] ylnPsf a]nf ;lsg d}n] 9n]sf] b]znfO{ ;dfpg ;lsg d}n] cfFugd} k'l/PsfnfO{ arfpg vf]O 5f]Kg ;s]sf] d}n] nfh cfdfsf] vf]O k'5\g ;s]sf] d}n] cfF;' cfˆg} wtL{sf] < kmut cfˆg} nflu ljb]l;Psf] d b]z b'lv /x]sf a]nf dfq cfF;' axfpFb} 5' 6f9f 6f9faf6 b]zn] xft dflu /x]sf a]nf k/fO e"lddf t8\lk /x]sf] d a]lrPsf] d /f]hL / /f]6Lsf nflu a]lrPsf] d Psd'7L ld7f] ;kgfsf nflu la;]{/ cfˆg} s;f{, la;]{/ cfˆg} wtL{ Û af6f] la/fPsf] ofofj/ x'F d af6f] la/fPsf] klys x'F d s]xL kfP/ ;a} u'dfPsf] 5' Psflt/ 6fNbf csf{lt/ EjfFª k/]/ gfª\luPsf] 5' Pp6f xftn] lnP/ csf]{ xftn] ;j{:j lbPsf] 5' cfˆgf cd"No a}+;x¿ cfˆgf cgdf]n knx¿ cfˆgf aln:6 kfv'/Lx¿ b]zn] vf]lh /x]sf a]nf cfˆgf] wtL{n] dflu /x]sf a]nf Û of] a]nf ;a} hgf ldNg] a]nf of] a]nf ;a} hgf h'6\g] a]nf xfdL dfq g]kfnL xf}F of] b]znfO{ p7fpg] of] b]znfO{ xF;fpg] of] b]znfO{ s;}n] km]l/ 9fNg g;Sg] u/L agfpg] k|0f u/f}F Û
370 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Infected of a mental worm – from frequent aftershocks Save me from the debris – melancholy profound How can I see the declination of this country? How can I fathom the destruction of this nation? When the whole nation is in state of bereavement When the whole country is disgraced by the beats of devastation I could not at least save her from falling down I couldn’t do anything for those who were under the rubble I could never protect the chastity of my motherland And I could not at least wipe the tears off her eyes I have come here in this foreign land for my own self When the country is in pain All I can do is just drop my tears from a faraway place When the country needs my hand All I am undergoing is a pain within I have sold myself for my basic needs Just for a dream that I wanted to be Forgetting my own farm, my own land I am nomadic who has lost his way I am a traveler who has lost his way I am the one who achieved something losing everything I have been exposed from this end when I tried to sew the other end I earned from this hand and lost everything from the other My precious youth My priceless moments My sturdy toil At a time when the country is looking for me When the earth is demanding much things This is a time ripe for everyone to unite For everyone to gear up We are just Nepali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 371 cfˆg} ana'tfdf cfˆg} kl/>ddf xfdL dfq 9n]sf xf}F xfdL dfq s'lrPsf xf}F xfdL dfq lylrPsf xf}F xfdL p7\5f}F km]l/ cUnf] cfˆg} w/x/f eP/ xfdL p7\5f}F km]l/ cfˆg} :jfledfg / >d ag]/ of] a]nf zª\sf ug]{ xf]Og b]z xfO6L aG5 eg]/ of] a]nf ;fgfltgf dte]bn] /f]lsg] a]nf xf]Og l;sf}F ljutaf6 l;sf}F xfd|f sdhf]/Lx¿af6 dfof u/f}F cfˆgf] wtL{nfO{ dfof u/f}F Kof/f] k|s[ltnfO{ cltsf] ;Ldf ggf3f}F k|s[lt l/;fpg] u/L kfng u/f}F ejg ;+lxtfnfO{ kfng u/f}F lj1x¿sf] e"sDk k|lt/f]wtfnfO{ Û
e/tk'/, lrtjg xfn M a]nfot
372 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf To let this country rise again To let this country smile again Let us take an oath that we build this country in such a way That no one can again break it down Standing on our own feet On our own meticulous effort. We have just fallen down We are just the suppressed ones We will rise again stronger than the Dharahara tower We will rise again with our self-esteem and labor It’s not the time to doubt that the country turns into Haiti Let’s learn from our past, from our mistakes Let’s love our motherland Let’s love our dear nature Let’s not cross our limit such that the nature gets angry Let’s follow the building code of conduct Let’s follow the experts design of quake-proof structure.
Belayat
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 373 kLkn / sndL sljtf ■ ¿k /;fOnL ljZjsdf{ zLtntfsf] k|tLsdf pleof}F ;lbof}Fb]lv 9'ª\ufsf ss]/fx¿af6 rf}af6f] / rf}tf/fx¿;Dd klx/fP/ cf:yfsf] whf ufP/ ldngsf] uLt u/] ;ef / ;Dd]ng km's] r]tgfsf lju'n afn]/ d;fn sflJos r]tx¿sf] d]/f jL/ k'vf{x¿n] af]lwj[Ifsf] rf}tf/Ldf a;]/ xf], lk|o kLkn=== pb\3f]if u/]F ltd|} km]baf6 gofF g]kfn . t/ cfh s'g} rlr{t cfb/0fLo sljsf] Ps rlr{t sljtfsf] zLif{s ;'6'Ss cfˆgf] k':tsdf ;d]6]/ ub}{ 5 k':ts ljdf]rg ltd|f] gflt c/a k;]/ vh'/sf] af]6d'lg a;]/ kLknsf xl/of kftx¿nfO{ l;p/]/ vh'/sf] tftf] lz/df km/s olt xf] kLknsf] r}tf/Ldf
374 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Peepal tree and Grafted Poetry ■ Rup Rasaili Biswakarma
We stand from time immemorial on this symbol of coolness from the cracks of stones to crossroads and platforms Adorning the flags of faith singing the tunes of togetherness they conducted meetings and conventions played the horn of awareness flaring up torch of poetic consciousness Yes, my dear Peepal tree ! Our brave ancestors on the platform of this Holy Bodhi tree declared new Nepal standing by your very trunk. But today, people are launching books havingquietly stolen the famous title of a poem of a famous revered poet. Your descendants are settling down in Middle-East, living under the date trees, covering the green leaves of Peepal
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 375 lkrf/x¿sf] x|:j bL3{ ldnfP/ u/]sf x'g\ afh]n] To} b]zsf] ljdf]rg c/adf k;]/ ltd|f gflt kLknsf af]6sf] s}og\ xfFuf / h/fx¿ xl/of /fd|f 9Ds]sf kftx¿ c/asf] tftf] / 5f]6f] ;dodf sndL u/]/ cjf{rLg cf}hf/x¿n] kLknsf] af]6nfO{ vh'/sf] af]6sf] ;+1f lbP/ bf]xfsf] h}bf 6fj/d'lg ;w}F ;w}F ;'gfpF5 of}6f sndL ul/Psf] kLknsf] km';|f] sljtf d ahfpFlbgF cgfxsdf d';'Ss d':sfpg' l;jfo sljtfsf] ;dflwdf a];'/sf] tfnL . d]/f jL/ k'vf{x¿n] cf:yfsf] ¿kdf whf klx/fpg] km]l/jfnfn] zLtntf gfKg] ldngsf efsfdf /f]wL 3lGsg] To} kLknsf] rf}tf/L xf], d]/f] xf] xf], xfd|f] xf] P=== afn'jfdf kfgL pdfg]{ slj afh]n] /f]k]sf] kLknsf] af]6nfO{ vh'/sf] af]6sf] ;+1f gb]pm rlr{t sljsf] rlr{t sljtfsf] zLif{s s'DNofP/ /flt /flt kLknaf]6] df]6f k':tsx¿sf] k|sfzg aGb u/ clg aGb u/ sndL km';|f sljtfx¿sf] jfrg .
376 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf over the head of hot date-palms. The only difference is - On the platform of Peepal tree, editing the grammar of mindset our ancestors had launched this very country. But your descendants moved to the Middle-East grafting the stems and roots of the Peepal tree its beautiful green leaves on the hot and short atmosphere of Arab giving the peepal tree the name of date-palm under the Jaida Tower at Doha they recite a dry poem about the grafted peepal tree. Except than throwing a smirk I don’t much support the tuneless claps over the tomb of poetry. My brave ancestors fluttering the flags of belief The holy hawkers measuring coolness Rodhi playing to the tunes of togetherness That same Peepal platform Yes, it’s mine, it’s ours. Hello Mr.Poet… springing water from sand Stop calling it a date-palm to the peepal tree planted by our ancestors Stop publishing the fat peepal-based books overnight, stealing the title of a popular poem by a popular poet And stop reciting the grafted dry poems.
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 377 d abNg rfxG5' dfofsf dfgsx? ■ /f]lx0fL z'qm
æltdL d]/f] dfq}, d ltd|f] dfq}Æ æltdL lagfsf] hLjg lhpFbf] nfz dfq}Æ æltd|f] hGtL, d]/f] dnfdLÆ æltdLn] 5f]8], d t v/fgLÆ cxF Û dnfO{ laNs'n dGh'/ 5}gg\ o:tf 9f]Fux¿ . ljb|f]xL < xf], ;xL a'‰g' eof] . xf], d ljb|f]x ug{ rfxG5' d abNg rfxG5' dfofsf dfgsx¿ d km'6fpg rfxG5' dfofsf dfgs ag]sf :tDex¿ . nfef{ / Ko'kfh:tf] d]/f] k|ltlglw afn dl:tisdf /]l8of] / l6eLb]lv klqsf / k':ts;Dd uLt, sljtf / syfb]lv pkGof; / rnlrq;Dd Ps ;] Ps ljqmL Ph]G6x¿ /ftlbg 3f]sfO /x] dfofsf dfgsx¿ dfgf}F /lx /x]kl5 cld6 5fk a;f];\ . To;}n] t ;fd|fHojfbLl;t cfTd;dk{0f u/]kl5sf Ov gePsf ;]gfh:t} Ps ;] Ps x'n lg:sG5g\ km]l/ dfofsf] dfgssf] :j:k"mt{ k|rf/ ug{ .
378 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I Want to Change the Standards of Love ■ Rohini Sukra
"You are mine and I am only yours" "Life without you is like a living corpse" "Your wedding, my funeral" "If you leave me, I am finished"
No! I can’t tolerate all these pomps Am I a rebel? Yes, you understood it well. Yes, I want to revolt. I want to change the standards of love. I want to break those pillars which stand as the standards of love.
To my child brain as infant as larva and pupa - From radios and televisions to newspapers and books From songs, poems and stories to novels and movies One after another great selling agents kept making me rote the standards of love
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 379 o:t}df ;'lgG5 Pp6f gd'gf syf dfofsf] dfgssf] tyfslyt dfof lbj; c/] clg dfofsf] :j0f{ dfgs ag]sf] /ftf] u'nfkmsf] cfbfg k|bfg ug{ Pp6f /ftf] k'mn l6Kg vf]Hbf le8Gt x'G5 dfofsf b'O{ dxf/yLx¿sf] / Pp6fn] csf{nfO{ 5'/f /f]k]/ df5{ . jfx Û dfofsf] dfgssf nflu dfofsf] sqf] alnbfg Û lwSsf/ 5 dnfO{ oL 9f]FuL dfgsx¿sf] uf]nrSs/df km;]/ slt ;do;Dd t a'‰g} ;lsgF kl/efiff dfofsf] . nfef{ / Ko'kfaf6 aflxl/Psf] w]/}kl5 aNn a'em]sf] 5'– unt 5g\ dfofsf dfgsx¿ . dnfO{ t hLjg lbg] afafsf] klg dfof nfU5, x/kn k|f0f yfd]/ a:g] xfjfsf] klg dfof nfU5 . dnfO{ t hGd lbg] cfdfsf] klg dfof nfU5 . dbf{ nfg] afF; pdfg{] tfdfsf] klg dfof nfU5 . dnfO{ t ltd|L 5f]/Lsf] klg dfof nfU5, pm ltgsf 5f]/fsf] klg dfof nfU5 . xf], To;}n] t d km'6fpg rfxG5' dfofsf] dfgs ag]sf :tDex¿ abNg rfxG5' . dfofsf dfgsx¿ .
Sofg8f
380 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf as if they should stick on psyche forever. Therefore, like the soldiers sans ego after having surrendered before colonists One after another throng comes out to automatically preach the standards of love. Meantime, we come to hear a sample story advocating the standards of love: the so-called Valentine’s Day. Then starts the exchange of red roses preached as the golden ensign of love And to pluck one red-rose a war is waged between two big forces resulting in one killing another by stabbing. Wow! For maintaining the standards of love, what a great sacrifice! Shame on me! Decoyed in a vicious circle of these pompous standards I couldn’t understand for a long time the true definition of love. Long after coming out of the larva and pupa phase I finally started to understand – that these standards of love are false. Yes, and it’s the reason why I want to break all the rules I want to change the pillars of these standards. The standards of love.
Canada
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 381 cfF6 ■ nId0f Gof}kfg] /fdfg'h d t h'g ;dft]/ cfFugel/ pHofnf] lnKg] cfF6 u/]F gf}nfv] tf/f v;fn]/ ltd|f] dg lhTg] cfF6 u/]F wtL{ cflQP/ sfFk]sf] lyof] d t df6f] 5f]P/ lxdfnL cf]7af6 d':sfg l6Kg] cfF6 u/]F . d t ljZjf; hlt aGws /fv]/ pwf/f] dfof lemSg] cfF6 u/]F ;Demgfsf] ;'t a9\b} uof] ca t ltd|f] l9s'6Lsf nflu cfkm} laSg] cfF6 u/]F . cflv/ hLjg of}6f Jofkf/ t /x]5 ;a}sf] ;fx' Tof] ;do;Fu df]ntf]n l;Sg] cfF6 u/]F . d t cFWof/f] k'5]/ cfk"m cfuf]df leHg] cfF6 u/]F k|sfzn] klg kf]Nbf] /}Ú5 s;} s;}nfO{
382 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Dare ■ Laxman Neupane Ramanuj
I dared to catch the moon and paint the courtyard with brightness. Dropping off millions of stars above I dared to win your heart. The land underneath was shaken of fright I touched the earth and dared to pluck smile from mountainous lips.
Keeping all my faith mortgaged I dared to lend love in credit. The interest of memories kept growing now for the sake of your love I dared to sell myself off. After all, life is a business deal. From the boss of all trades- time I dared to learn bargaining.
Washing off darkness I dared to drench into fire. Sometimes brightness also burns off
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 383 ca Ps d'/L atf;df cfkm} lgEg] cfF6 u/]F zAbx¿ crDddf k/] ltg} zAbx¿n] Pp6f gofF tl:a/ lvRg] cfF6 u/]F .
DofGdf/
384 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf So I dared to extinguish myself with a gust of wind. The words are in utter surprise as of why I dared to take a new picture with those same words.
Myanmar
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 385 cfO8Lsf] kf;f] ■ jh| s'df/ y'n'ª /fO{
3fF6Ldf c8\lsg yfn]kl5 Pp6f lg/Lx sljn] uw{g yflk lbof] /, eGof]– l5gfpm lk|o Û rn{Ss} ltd|f] cfO8L :kf]G;/sf] ultnf] s6\6Ln] of] sljsf] 3fF6L .
5'6fO b]pm z/L/ / 6fpsf] dfl/ b]pm Pp6f k|lbKt r]tgf l´s sljsf] lubL km'6fO b]pm cGofo, cTofrf/ b]Vg] cfFvf y't sljtf e6\ofpg] lha|f] ´fl/ b]pm ltd|f] kl/>dsf] ef]hg rkfpg] bfFtx¿ sfl6 b]pm sljtf n]Vg] b'j} xft sfl6 b]pm ltdLnfO{ 5f]8]/ ;dfh ;]jfdf bf}8g] b'j} v'6\6f klg . lr/ 5ftL k]6 lgsfn d'6', sn]hf], kmf]S;f], cfGb|f–cfdfzo
386 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The Snare of ID ■ Bajra Kumar Thulung Rai
When life became impossible An unfortunate poet laid his neck before and said – Rip off, my dear this useless neck of a poet with the knife-edge of your ID sponsor. Decapitate me and separate my head and body Kill this illuminating conscience Take out this poet’s brain tissues Blind these eyes - a sheer witness of injustice, tyranny Pull off that poem reciting organ – tongue Break off those teeth - that chew food made out of your toil Remove both hands that write poems Also cut off these legs that hurry for social work, leaving you back alone. Rip off the bosom-belly Take out heart, kidney and lungs
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 387 ;a} leœof;x¿ / a]r cfnf] /ut;Fu} of] sljsf] z/L/ cª\u k|Toª\u, kfFr} OlGb|ox¿ klg e'6'jf a]Rg] /]:6'/]G6x¿df aL=aL=So"= kf]Ng] dª\lslxn, tfO{df];fgx¿df===. o;f] u¥of} eg] ;fob s]xL ;do lj>fd kfpg] 5 ltd|f] cfO8Ljfnf la/fdL z/L/n] o:tf] ´/L jiff{df, o:tf] k|r08 udL{df uDa'6 nufP/, kGhf nufP/ hf]8{g km]/Lx¿df a]Nrf xfGg] nfK;fk ;f]xg]{ xft–v'6\6fx¿n] . sljnfO{ yfxf 5– c7f/ jif{ k'u]sf] 5f]/f]n] dfn vfg yfn]/ s6\6' vf]n]/ b]vfO lbPkl5 ;f]xL pd]/sL 5f]/Ln] ltdL sfddf hfFb} ubf{ ltd|f] cl3cl3 ljb]zL AjfO k|m]G8sf] xft ;dfO{ lxF8\g yfn]b]lv of] Jojl:yt of] ;'ljwf ;DkGg ;x/sf ;8sx¿df ltd|f ;f}tf ;f}t]gLx¿ gfFRb} lxF8\g yfn]b]lv 6'6\of] ltd|f] ;kgf km'6\of] ltd|f] d'6' rls{of] ltd|f] efUo .
388 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf All entrails and giblets And sell the body of this poet With fresh blood as complimentary All the body parts All the five sense organs In the taverns and restaurants BBQ stations at Monkey Hill and Taimosan. Maybe this way your ID-manic diseased body will get some rest for a time being. In the heavy downpour In the extreme heat Wearing gumboots Wearing gloves These limbs - Using spades in Jordan Ferry The body collecting litters. The poets knows – That his eighteen years old son started doing drugs and put your name in shame. When you are on your way to work your same aged daughter right before you, walks past hand in hand with her foreign boyfriend. On the streets of this managed and luxurious city when your co-wives and co-husbands started dancing around merrily Your dreams shattered badly Your heart broke apart Your destiny crumbled into pieces.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 389 sljn] eg]s} lyof]– c7f/ jif{cl3 d';'Ss gxfF; 3f]n]{ 5f]/f] hGdfPF eg]/ of] 5f]/f] ;fy lbg xf]Og ;tfpg hGd]sf] xf] d[To'ko{Gt ltdLnfO{ of] 5f]/Ln] klg p:t} u5]{ x]b}{ hfpm h;/L sljn] afpcfdfnfO{ e'Nof] ltdLnfO{ kfPb]lv h;/L ltdLn] ;+;f/ e'Nof} sljnfO{ kfPb]lv c´ Tof] eGbf klg clt/~hgfn] e'Ng] 5g\ oL 5f]/f5f]/Ln] slj / ltdLnfO{ . s] u5f}{ t lk|o Û of] xªsª / cfO8Lsf] lhGbuL o:t} 5 dfGb}gf}F :jb]z cfˆgf] ´'k|f] 3/ kms{g klg To;}n] cfO8L ljxLg ltd|f] sljnfO{ df/ / d/ ltdL klg xf]Og eg]– ltdL cOof=== cfTyf=== ub}{ xfgL /fv a]Nrf df´L /fv efF8f peL /fv ;nfd 7f]Sb} u]6df slj rflxF /ldtf x]/]/ n]lv /xG5 sljtf=== gd n]lv /xG5 sljtf=== .
xªsª
390 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The poet had already said almost eighteen years back– Don’t you be so excited of this robust baby boy He’s come out not to accompany but to trouble us Wait and watch! This daughter also will treat you the same way until death Like this poet forgot his parents after finding you Like you forgot the world after getting me More happily than us these children will forget the poet and you.
What can be done dear? This is how the life of Hongkong and ID is. You don’t feel like returning to your country Back to your old thatched house That’s why, Kill that poet sans ID And kill yourself as well Otherwise – You better keep moving spades with gasps of pain You keep washing dishes You keep standing straight before gates This poet will watch all these fuss and keep writing poetries.
Hong Kong
Translated by Jayant Sharma
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 391
web source:www.khasskhass.com af}nfpg' klg a]; x'G5 ■ jGbgf uf}td
æP cfdf Û xfd|f xh'/af af}nfPsf lyP /] <Æ xf] 5f]/f Û ltd|f xh'/af af}nfPs} t lyP Û d:t hLjg /ª\u lj/ª\u ;hfpg] a]nf hftLo cl:tTj hf]ufpg hftLo uf}/j a9fpg bgbgfpFbf] o'4e"lddf cfˆgf] hLjgsf] cfx'lt lbP/=== ;Gb]z 5f]8]sf lyP=== elg lbg' d]/f cfkmGtx¿nfO{ æltd|f] ef]ln ;hfpg d]/f] cfhnfO{ alnbfg lbFb} 5' ÛÆ o;/L af}nfPsf lyP ltd|f xh'/af ÛÛ
æP cfdf Û xfd|f a'af klg t af}nfPsf lyP /] Û xf] Û c¿x¿ dl;sL / c;L{ agfpg] kl/jf/sf] ;kgf ;hfpg] ofgdf p8]sf] a]nf=====
392 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf It’s also Better to Go Insane ■ Bandana Gautam
"O, Mom! Was my grandpa insane?" Yes, My Son! Certainly insane he was! When it was time for him to hue a colorful life, To safeguard the ethnic identity And take it to a height Sacrificing his life Into the blazing battlefield instead Had left a message, "To embellish your Tomorrow, I’m sacrificing my Today!" This is how your grandpa had gone insane.
"O, Mom! I hear my pa had gone insane, too!" Yes. When others were busy making Arsi and Masiki, To bedeck the family dreams, Flying in the shuttle… Your father, In a dark room
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 393 ltd|f a'af==== Pp6f cFWof/f] sf]7fdf lwk|L afn]/ kf7\ok':ts agfpFb} ;dfh=== efiff / ;flxTosf] cl:tTj hf]ufpg] y'gdf=== kl/jf/ la;]{sf lyP ltd|f a'af af}nfPs} xf] t Û c¿ ;a} === cfˆgf] kl/jf/df em'd]sf] a]nf vfnL vNtL, kmf6]sf] emf]nf le/]/ ufpF ufpF 8'Nb} dft[efiff k9\g' k5{ 3/ 3/df cfˆgf] efiff af]Ng' k5{ ufpF 5f]8]/ ;x/ emg{} k5{ eGb} vfnL v'6\6f e|d0f ub{} hg r]tgf hufpg] ltd|f bfO klg af}nfPs} lyP === o;/L ltd|f xh'/af a'af / 5f]/fx¿ af}nfO{ lbFbf cfh ltdL=== b'O{ zAb af]Ng] / b'O{ cIf/ n]Vg] aGof} . cljsl;t /fi6« / ;dfhdf === dxfg\ ljåfg\ / dxfg\ slj aGof} ÛÛ To;f] eg] s] cfdf === d klg af}nfpF5' ef]ln < xf] Û 5f]/f ltdL cjZo af}nfpg' g} k5{ Û ltd|f xh'/a'af / a'af h:t} == ltdL af}nfPsf] b]v]/
394 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Under an oil lamp Busy making textbooks In the deliberation to safeguard The society… language and literature, Had forgotten the family; Of course, insane he had gone. While others.... Were engrossed in family matters, A broke, with a tattered bag, Wandering from village to village Barefooted, Telling people They should study their mother tongue They should use their own tongue in their homes And raising awareness, Your brother had also gone insane … Your grandpa, pa and his son, in this way Going insane, Today you… Were made of a few words and a little voice. In an underdeveloped nation and society… Made yourself a great intellectual and a great poet. "Then, Will, O, Mom, I go insane too tomorrow?"
Yes! My Son Definitely you have to go insane. Like your grandpa and pa, Seeing you go insane I, your mother…, In this world …. With my head high, proud of you I will be. To catch up the worldfamous literary figure Khollij.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 395
web source:www.khasskhass.com d, ltd|L cfdf === o; ;+;f/df === lk/ prfnL, uf}/jflGjt x'g] 5' ÛÛÛ ljZj k|Voft ;flxTosf/ vf]lNnh kqmg Û s;}n] ;f]w]5 === æxh'/ af}nfpg' ef] /] lsg <Æ olb d af}nfPsf] sf/0f ;Dk"0f{ a'‰g ;Sg] lyof} eg]=== ltdL dxfg\ ljåfg\ aGg] lyof} Û
DofGdf/
396 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Somebody did ask…. "I heard you did go insane, why?" The cause of my insanity Could you understand completely ….. You would be a great intellectual.
Myanmar
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 397 b]z ■ j;Gt >]i7
;u/dfyfnfO{ 5f]P/ xftn] xfdL ljkgf ;fl6 /x]5f}F csfn, ;Gqf; / eosf] le8df xfdL cfkm}nfO{ x/fO /x]5f}F . xfdL k|hftGqsf] gfddf ljZjf; u'dfO /x]5f}F xfdL :jfwLgtfsf] gfddf b]z u'dfO /x]5f}FF b]z /fli6«otfsf] gfd xf] b]z cv08tfsf] csf]{ gfd xf] . kfOnf kfOnfdf x'G5 b]z b]z df6f]df leh]sf] x'G5 b]z efjgfleq ?em]sf] x'G5 . ;u/dfyfnfO{ 5f]]P/ xftn] xfdL ljkgf ;fl6 /x]5f}F csfn, ;Gqf; / eosf] le8df xfdL cfkm}nfO{ x/fO /x]5f}F . ;fd|fHojfbsf] s8f d'sflanf ug]{ b]z :jfwLgtfsf gfddf
398 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com The Nation ■ Basanta Shrestha
With our hands in touch with Mt. Everest We’ve been bartering the reality Amid the crowd of famine, fear and fright We’ve been losing our own identity.
In the name of democracy, What we are losing is the belief In the name of sovereignty What we are losing is the nation Nation is the name of nationality Nation is the other name for integrity. Nation is there in every step of land Soaked is the nation in the soil Mingled is nation in the emotion.
With our hands in touch with Mt. Everest We’ve been bartering the reality Amid the crowd of famine, fear and fright We’ve been losing our own identity.
How I can say the nation That gave a hard fight against imperialism
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 399 lsNnf sfª\u8f / gfnfkfgLsf] o'4 n8\g] of]4fsf] b]z v} d s;/L eg'F b]z r'krfk ;'t]sf] 5 eg]/ . v} d s;/L dfg'F b]z cltqmd0f ;xG5 eg]/, xfdL t Oltxf; af]s]/ b]z lrGb} 5f}F xfdL t e"uf]n b]vfP/ b]z km]nf kfb} 5f}F xfdL t ctLt x]/]/ jt{dfgdf n8fOF n8\b} 5f}F To;}n] dnfO{ slxn] sfxLF d]/f] b]z x/fPsf] efg x'G5 . ;u/dfyfnfO{ 5f]P/ xftn] xfdL ljkgf ;fl6 /x]5f}F csfn ;Gqf; / eosf] le8df xfdL cfkm}nfO{ x/fO /x]5f}F . b]z /fli6«otfsf] gfd xf] b]z cv08tfsf] csf]{ gfd xf] s'g} e"uf]nleq dfq s}b 5}g b]z s'g} Oltxf;leq dfq ;Lldt 5}g b]z b]z :jtGq 5 . b]z ;fj{ef}d 5 b]z hxfF klg 5 xfdL;Fu oxfF klg xfd|f] b]z 5 .
cd]l/sf
400 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The nation of the knights Fighting in the Fort Kangada and Naplapani For the sake of sovereignty Is sleeping silently.
How do I say The nation endures encroachment? In the annals of the history We are identifying the nation, Pointing to the geography We are finding the nation We, looking back to the past, Are fighting in the present Therefore, I sometimes feel delusion That my nation has lost.
With our hands in touch with Mt. Everest We’ve been bartering the reality Amid the crowd of famine, fear and fright We’ve been losing our own identity.
Nation is the name of nationality Nation is the other name for integrity Confined is not the nation within some territory Restrained is not the nation within some history Free is a nation. Sovereign is a nation Everywhere is nation Also over here with us We also have our nation.
America
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 401 bDesf] lsNnfdf pleP/ ■ jf;' zdf{ bDesf] lsNnfdf pleP/ o'4sf] vf]h lsg u5f}{ < :jfy{sf] kvf{n 78\ofP/ o'4sf] ljh lsg 55f}{ < ltd|f ;ª\sNksf jf0fLx¿ cvaf/x¿n] 5/]s} x'g\ b]z b]zfj/;Dd v} t tL ;ª\sNkx¿ < ltdL eg] b'v]sf dgx¿ g} s'NrFb} af‰5f} ldN5f} hf]8\5f} kmf]8\5f} ltd|f] nLnf of] a'lem g;Sg' ef] ltdL gfos xf} jf vngfos xf} < bz{s kª\lStsf ;/n dflg;x¿ eg] b]zb]lv otf k/b]z;Dd
402 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Standing on the Fort of Vanity ■ Basu Sharma
Standing on the fort of vanity, Why are you seeking war ? Raising the wall of selfishness Why do you sow the seed of war?
The proclamation of your declaration Was wide-spread across the nation and then world What about that declaration ?
In your part, you, Treading upon the mourning hearts, Quarrel Unify Join Break Your act has now been incomprehensible Are you a hero or A villain? The simple people in the audience Far from their country in an alien land Witnessing your character simulation
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 403 ltd|f] rl/q clego b]v]/ cjfs 5g\ lvGg 5g\ b'MvL 5g\ ltdL eg] 5]kf/fn] e}mF /ª\ux¿ km]b}{ l5gl5gdf tdf;f b]vfpFb} 5f} ltg} x}/fg bz{sx¿nfO{ lsQf lsQfdf afF8\b} 5f} / bDesf] lsNnfdf pleP/ o'4sf] vf]hL ub}{ 5f} :jfy{sf] kvf{n 78\ofP/ o'4sf] jLh 5b}{ 5f} . ltdLn] jrg lbof} ;kgf ;Fufn]/ b'MvL hgx¿n] ltdLnfO{ ljZjf; lbP v} t ljZjf;sf] nfh /fv]sf] < pN6} ltdL eg] ToxL ljZjf;nfO{ 3ft ub}{ 5f} Gofo, ;dfgtf / hglxtsf s'/fnfO{ sk6L zs'gLn] e}mF B"tqmL8fsf kf;f agfpFb} 5f} hxfF ltdL xfb}{gf} xf5{g\ t cfzfsf] dfnf pGg] tL lgM:jfy{, lgZ5n / lgisk6 dgx¿ ltdL eg] ltg} dgx¿nfO{ lsQf lsQfdf afF8\b} 5f} / bDesf] lsNnfdf pleP/ k]ml/ o'4sf] vf]h ub}{ 5f} :jfy{sf] kvf{n 78\ofP/ k]ml/ o'4sf] aLh 5b}{ 5f} .
404 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Are stunned Are downcast Are sad You, in turn, In the hue of a lizard are making the fanfare, Dividing those exhausted people into plots of field And standing on the fort of vanity Looking for war, Raising the wall of selfishness, Sowing the seed of war. You gave them words, Cherishing dreams, the poor, in return Gave you the trust Why didn’t you respect the trust? On the contrary You are deceiving the trust Turning the justice, fairness and social welfare Like the crooked Sakuni Into the dice of warfare Where you never lose The losers will be those Who are cherishing hopes into a garland - Those unselfish, humble and candid hearts And you, in turn, Are dividing those hearts Into the plots of field And, standing on the fort of vanity Looking for war, Raising the wall of selfishness Again sowing the seed of war.
You declared Let’s deconstruct the old
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 405 ltdLn] eGof} cfpm k'/fgf]nfO{ eTsfP/ gofF lgdf{0f u/f}F / ltd|f] cfXjfgnfO{ k5\ofpFb} p7] ;8sdf nfvf}F d'7Lx¿ gj lgdf{0fsf] cfjfh a'nGb ub}{ / 9Nof] k'/fgf] l;;dxn cfzfsf ls/0fx¿ 5l/P cfFugel/ ;'vsf ;kgfx¿ ;lhP dgel/ k/Gt' ;8sdf u'Gh]sf :j/x¿sf] u'Ghg x/fpg gkfpFb} xif{sf] ;ª\uLtdf gfRg gkfpFb} cfzfsf] s]Gb|df tf08j dlRrof] dWo /ftdf :tAw cfFvfx¿n] x]l/ /x] lglg{d]if aGbL ag]sf cfˆgf ;kgfx¿nfO{ ltdL eg] ltg} :tJw cfFvfx¿nfO{ lsQf lsQfdf afF8\b} 5f} / bDesf] lsNnfdf pleP/ k]ml/ klg o'4s} vf]h ub}{ 5f} :jfy{sf] kvf{n 78\ofP/ k]ml/ klg o'4s} jLh 5b}{ 5f} . ltdLn] a'4sf] wfs nufPsf] klg ;'lgPs} xf] ltdLn] a'4sf] ;fv ehfPsf] klg b]lvPs} xf] ltdL g} t/ km]l/ zflGtsf] rfxgfnfO{ lgik|e kfb}{ 5f} l;h{gfsf] sfdgfnfO{ lg:;f/ kfb}{ 5f} a'4s} e"lddf ltdL eg]
406 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com And reconstruct it anew And, following your summons Millions of fist skied in the streets, Strengthening the voice of reconstruction And, the old castle collapsed The sparks of hope strewn every home-yard The hope of exult filled every heart But Before the voices sounded in the street Silenced Before dancing in the tune of the rejoice Devil danced in the realm of hope At the midnight The stunned eyes beheld unblinking The imprisonment of their dreams You, in turn, Are dividing those stunned eyes Into the plots of field And, standing on the fort of vanity Again looking for the war itself Raising the wall of selfishness Sowing the seed of war itself.
Your threatening to wage a war was also heard Your making of bargain on the Buddh’s acclaim was also witnessed But again, you and you yourself Are diminishing the desire for peace Thinning the wish for new creation In the Buddha’s own land Rendering the Buddha with infamy Dimming the light of the Buddha’s halo, you’re Dividing those peaceful, affectionate eyes of the Buddha
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 407 a'4s} dfg db{g ub}{ 5f} a'4s} ;fg w"ldn kfb}{ 5f} a'4sf tL zfGt, l:gUw cfFvfnfO{ lsQf lsQfdf afF8\b} 5f} lsg < bDesf] lsNnfdf pleP/ lsg o'4sf] vf]h ub}{ 5f} < :jfy{sf] kvf{n 78\ofP/ lsg o'4sf] jLh 5b}{ 5f} <
a]nfot
408 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Into plots of field Why? Standing on the fort of vanity Why are you seeking war? Raising the wall of selfishness Why are you sowing the seed of war?
Belayat
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 409 lar/f sf7df8fF} ■ jf;' >]i7 lar/f sf7df8fF}, ;a}nfO{ kfn]/ klg x]lkPsf] 5 ;a}nfO{ x'sf{P/ klg ufnL vfPs} 5 u'g nfpFbf nfpFb} klg a}u'gL ePsf] 5, lar/f sf7df8f}F Û cfFvfsf] tf/f klg ag]s} 5 cfFvfsf] sl;ª\u/ klg ag]sf] 5, qmf]wsf] kf]sf] klg ag]s} 5 qmf]wsf] kmf]sf] klg ag]sf] 5 o;f] u/] klg oxL sf7df8fF} p;f] u/] klg oxL sf7df8fF} o;n] klg ufnL u/]s} 5 p;n] klg ufnL u/]s} 5 ;a}sf] ufnL vfg' k/]s} 5 lar/f sf7df8f}F Û
;a}nfO{ of] geO{ x'Gg t/ ufnL klg gu/L x'Gg
410 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Poor Kathmandu ! ■ Basu Shrestha
Poor Kathmandu Despised is it despite nurturing all Reprimand it gains for growing all In exchange for rendering beneficence Shoddy is what it’s become Poor Kathmandu!
Apple of ones’ eyes it is Also is the dust in the eyes A pouch of anger it is Also is the bubble of anger This way, this is Kathmandu That way, this is Kathmandu This one also reprimands it That one also reprimands it Has to bear everyone’s reprimand Poor Kathmandu!
No one can do without it Yet, no one can go without reprimanding it Everyone comes here
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 411 ;a}nfO{ oxfF gcfO x'Gg t/ o;nfO{ g;/fkL klg x'Gg o:t} o:tf cK7]/f]df kmn]sf] 5 cK7]/f]df clNemPsf] 5 lar/f sf7df8fF} Û l´lnldnL ;x/ ag]/ ;a}sf] /x/ ePsf] 5 sf7df8fF} oxfF a:g]x¿nfO{ eg] sx/ ePsf] 5 sf7df8fF} 6f9f a:g]sf nflu lbgs} ;kgf ag]sf] 5 sf7df8fF} lgw{g / ef]sfx¿nfO{ s7} hx/ ag]sf] 5 sf7df8fF} lbg, /ftsf] t s] s'/f, lhGbuLsf] ;kgf ljkgf ag]sf] 5 sf7df8f}F hLjgsf] ;kmntf 7fG5 sf7df8fF}F lhpg'sf] ;fy{s dfG5 sf7df8fF}F clg ;f/f yftynf] 5f]8]/ k:b5 dfG5] sf7df8fF} . t/ pm sf7df8fF} k;]b]lv ufnL vfg yfN5 sf7df8fF} 5'Rrf] / a'Rrf] sf7df8fF} dxFuf] / ?vf] sf7df8fF} w'nf] / d}nf] sf7df8fF} kmf]xf]/ / uNnLsf] sf7df8fF} kfgLsf] csfn sf7df8fF} cGwsf/ / ck/fwsf] ynf] sf7df8fF} gftfuf]tf / efOrf/fsf] v8]/L sf7df8fF} o:tf] sf7df8fF} p:tf] sf7df8fF} ufnLsf ljz]if0f t sltslt lar/f sf7df8fF} Û
412 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Yet, can’t do without cursing it Such and such difficulties are what Kathmandu’s fruited in Entangled in intricacy is Poor Kathmandu!
Making it glitteringly, Kathmandu’s been the city of earnest desire But a distress is what Kathmandu’s been for the city’s dweller Day-dream is what Kathmandu for the remote dweller Poisonous for those who’re hungry and poor!
What else day and night Kathmandu’s become life’s dream and reality The success of life – Kathmandu The significance of life – Kathmandu And then Choosing to abandon the locality, migrates the man to Kathmandu.
But with his advent Kathmandu starts getting rebuked - Sharp-pointed and mean Kathmandu Dear and barren Kathmandu Dusty and filthy Kathmandu Dirty and of streets Kathmandu Water distressed Kathmandu The place for darkness and crime, Kathmandu Relations and brotherhood draught Kathmandu Such Kathmandu So and so Kathmandu Innumerable scorning adjectives Poor Kathmandu!
Residing on its own bosom Scorned against it
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 413 p;}sf] 5ftLdf a;]/ p;}sf] lj?4 ul/Psf :jfyL{kgsf gf/f / ufnL ef]Ug / ;'Gg nfrf/ 5 sf7df8fF}, lg/Lx 5 sf7df8fF} nf6L / j[4f e}mF nfrf/ plePsf] 5 sf7df8f}F t/ klg ;a}nfO{ x'sf{Ps} 5 cfk"mdf ;dflxt u/fPs} 5 ar]/f x'sf{pg cfk"m lry|flry|f ePsf] 5 s'¿k / gfª\uf] ePsf] 5 / klg To;} To;} df}g 5 lar/f sf7df8fF} Û sf7df8fF} ;xgzLn 5 l;wf / ;/n 5 To;}n] t h;n] h] eg] klg h:tf] ufnL u/] klg hlts} 3[0ff u/] klg ;xL lbG5 sf7df8fF} ;a}nfO{ jf; lbPs} 5 h;f]t;f] ufF; lbPs} 5 ljb]z hfg 5ftL yflk lbPs} 5 cfpg]nfO{ klg 5ftL vf]n]s} 5 t/ klg o;sf] abnfdf ;lx /x]sf] 5 ufnL ufnL clg ufnL dfq r'krfk r'krfk lar/f sf7df8fF} .
xfnM cd]l/sf
414 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com The loud sound and reprimand Kathmandu is helpless to live with and listen to Forlorn is Kathmandu Like the mute and the old woman, Kathmandu has stood helplessly Nevertheless, it’s been bringing them all up Embracing them all into To hatch and broach the young, it’s smashed to smithereens It's become disfigured and ugly Even then, is silent within and without Poor Kathmandu!
Tolerant is Kathmandu Simple and gentle So, even in being reprimanded anyway Even in being hated anyhow Endures Kathmandu It’s sheltered all Somehow managed them to meet their two ends Set its bosom for ones destined to Foreign land Opened the hearts for the ones arriving Yet in return Its been enduring reprimand, reprimand and only reprimand Silently, silently Poor Kathmandu!
America
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 415 k/b]zL efO ■ ljgf]b v8\sf ltxf/} /fd|f], cfFug xfd|f], ;okqL km'n]sf] t/]nL v]t wfgsf afnf, d:tLn] em'n]sf] . sflQs df;, dGb 5 kjg, cfsfz 3dfOnf] n6/Dd} tf]/L, kx]Fn} af/L, slt xf] /dfOnf] . dvdnL km'Nof], efOnfO{ dfnf, alxgL ufF:b} x'g\ s] lbpF efOnfO{, d;fnf ld7fO{, dgdg} u'GbL x'g\ . efOsf] lgwf/, ;Kt/ª\uL 6Lsf, lkª x} v]n]sf] ;DembL x'g\ alxgL, k'/fgf lbg, ltxf/ dfg]sf] . cfdfsf] sfd, cu]gf5]p, ;]n/f]6L xfNb} x'g\ k/b]zL 5f]/f], ;Dem]/ ;fob, dgdg} ?FbL x'g\ .
5f]/fnfO{ sNkL, Bf};Lsf] x'ndf, dnfO{ gvf]Hg" sfun] ;Gb]z, NofpF5 ls egL cfsfz gx]g"{ . g/f]pm cfdf, k/b]zsf] sfd, ;a}sf] o:t} xf] nfvf}F tL lgwf/, vfnL 5g\ cfdf, lgolt p:t} xf] .
416 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Brother Outlander ■ Binod Khadka
Tihar’s rejoicing, with the beautiful blossom of marigold in the inner yard And the paddy seed-pod swayed in the rows of farm-yard.
The month of Kartik, sunny the blue sky, gentle is the breeze, Swaying mustard, yellow the field, how pleasant the place is!
Makhamali bloomed, maybe the sister busy, making brotherly garland Present for the brother, the spices or the sweets, might be playing in her mind.
Brother’s forehead, colourful Tika, swung in the swing together The sister might recall, the olden days, the celebration of Tihar.
The mother’s task, maybe busy in floury rings, beside the oven And might be crying inwardly, remembering her outlander son.
Engrossed in the thought of son, amid the Dhyausi crowd, please seek me not Expecting the crow to bring the message, eye the sky, I request you won’t.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 417 ;DemfO{ lbg', tL alxgLnfO{, dg ltgsf] sdnf] g/f]pg\ ltgL, efOnfO{ ;DemL, la;]{/ /dfOnf] .
;Demgf l6sf, k7fO{ b]pm eGg', dgsf tf/n] xfF;]/ nfpFnf, alxgLsf] 6Lsf, cfF;'sf wf/n] .
stf/
418 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf No tears mother, the task in outland, all have the same fate Rule of nature, there are bare, hundreds of thousand foreheads.
Please encourage her, the sister of mine, her heart is marvelously tender Let her not cry, in remembrance of her brother, forgetting the festive pleasure.
Tell her to send me, via the wire of heart, the Tika memento Smiling I’ll put it on, the sister’s blessing, though the tears flow.
Qatar
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 419 cg'/f]w ■ ljgf]b Gof}kfg] bfO, d}n] cldnf] dg lnP/ d]/f] b]zsf] ;F3f/ sf6]sf] 5' d xfF;]/ x}g /f]P/ k/b]z nfu]sf] 5' . d dsfn';Fu} xfF:g rfxGy]F lgZrn xfF;f] . d c?0f;Fu} aUg rfxGy]F s~rg aufO{ . t/fO{sf] pj{/ kmfF6df kl;gfsf] wf/f] aufP/ nx nx cGg kmnfpg] d]/f] /x/ x/fPsf] 5}g . rf}tf/L / eGHofªlt/ ysfO dfb}{ dfb}{
420 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf An Appeal ■ Binod Neupane
Brother, With bitterness full of my heart, I’ve stepped beyond the threshold of my nation. Not in laughter But in tears, I’ve set out.
I Wanted to laugh with Mt. Makalu A pure laughter!
I Wanted to float with the River Arun A clear floating! In the fertile plot of the Terai, Sweating tirelessly My desire to grow glossy crops Has not vanished yet.
Resting in the Chautari and Bhanjyang With the plough and yoke on my shoulders My desire to tread the mountain ridge and the valley
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 421 xnf] / h'jf sfFwdf xfn]/ n]s / a]F;L ug]{ d]/f] wf]sf] k'u]s} 5}g . bfO cfh d st} c/asf] tftf] d?e"lddf afv|f / pF6sf] uf]7fnf] eP/ d[To';Fu kf}F7]hf]/L v]Nb} st} dn]l;oflt/sf sf/vfgfsf 7'nf 7'nf d]l;gx¿;Fu h'Wb} st} o'/f]k / cd]l/sflt/sf] sxfnL nfUbf] le8df klxrfg ljxLg eP/ knkn ;do s6fO /x]5' / d d]/f] b]z lkmg]{ lbg ulg /x]5' . bfO k/b]z d]/f] /x/ x}g d]/f] /x/ t d]rL / dxfsfnL xf] d]/f] /x/ t lxdfn / t/fO{ xf] . d :jR5Gb eP/ d lgeL{s eP/ d g]kfnL eP/
422 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com To and fro Has not been satiated yet.
Brother Today Somewhere In the burning Arabian desert As a shepherd Fighting with death, Somewhere In the Malaysian factories Combating with the gigantic machines, Somewhere Amid the maddening crowd In Europe and America Without any identity I am passing my time And Counting my days back to my nation.
Brother Alien nations are not my interest What’s more, my interest lies in Mechi and Mahakali. Indeed my interest is The mountain and the Terai.
As a freer being As a fearless being Being a Nepali I love to live in Nepal And want to breathe my last in my own nation.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 423 d]/} b]zdf afFRg rfxG5' d]/} b]zdf dg{ rfxG5' .
To;}n] d]/f] laGtL 5 x} bfO d gcfpGh]n d ysfO dfg]{ rf}tf/L rf}tf/L g} /xf];\ . d]/f d]rL / sfnLdf kfgL z'4} /xf];\ d]/f ;]tf lxdfndf bfu gnfuf];\ d]/f] t/fO{sf] pa{/tf cem} a9f];\ . d cem} kxf8df vGg rfxG5' d cem} t/fO{df hf]Tg rfxG5' d d]/} b]zdf /Dg rfxG5' d d]/} g]kfndf afFRg rfxG5' .
cd]l/sf
424 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Therefore. My pungent petition, My brother, Until I return, Let my resting Chautari Remain the Chautari itself. Let the water in my Mechi and Kali remain purer Let my white mountains remain more pristine May the fertility of my Terai foster further.
I still Want to live more in the hills I still Want to reap more in the Terai I want to rejoice in my own nation I want to live in my own Nepal.
America
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 425 b]z ckx/0fdf k/]kl5 ■ ljZjf; bLk ltu]nf
;lxbx¿ xf] ca ltdLx¿ lrxfgaf6} p7 cfˆg} >LdtL a]Rg], cfˆg} z/L/sf] cª\u a]Rg] cfˆg} 3/ hnfP/ v/fgLsf] Jofkf/ ug]{x¿n] b]z n'l6 /x]5g\, n'l5 /x]5g\, r'l; /x]5g\ / s0f{wf/ o'jf zlStnfO{ ljb]zdf a]lr /x]5g\ Gofo, ;dfgtfaf6 cfpg] zflGt, ;d[l4 / kl/jt{g /f]ls /x]5g\ To;}n] b]z ckx/0fdf kl/ /x]5g\ . b]z a]lylt g} a]lyltdf r'n'{Dd 8'la /x]sf] 5 ;u/dfyf / a'4sf] cfTdf /f]O /x]sf] 5 To;}n] P ;lxbx¿ xf] ¤ ltdLx¿ lrxfgaf6} p7 hgtfx¿ xf], ufpF ufpFaf6 p7 ljb]l;Psf g]kfnLx¿ xf] d'Unfgaf6 kms{ ca of] b]znfO{ ckx/0f d'St kfg'{ k5{ . ca dlGb/, dl:hb / dfªlxdsf d"lt{x¿ ltdLx¿ ca af]Ng' k5{ le/, kx/f, 8fF8f kfvf / gbLgfnfx¿ xf] ca ltdLx¿ klg af]Ng' k5{
426 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com After the Nation was in Abduction ■ Bishwas Deep Tigela
O martyrs, now rise out of your cemetery The trafficker of his own wife, rackets of their own organ sellers Those making a trade on the ashes of their own burnt houses Have been looting the nation, snatching the nation, sucking the nation and Selling the youth with potential in the foreign land, Obstructing the peace, progress and change To come with justice and equality. The nation has been in abduction.
The nation is sinking in the mess of disorder The souls of Everest and of the Buddha are in tears So, O Martyrs, now rise out of your cemetery And the people from village to village, The Nepalese in foreign lands, make your way back home Now, we should rid the nation of abduction.
Now, the idol in the temple, mosque and Manghim You ought to speak The gorges, rocks, hills and rivers and rivulets You must speak, too
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 427 e|i6x¿nfO{ >fk b]pm ;Hhgx¿nfO{ cfzLjf{b b]pm ta of] b]z zflGt / ;d'Ggt aGg' k5{ . yf]kfyf]kf gbL x'G5 cfjfh cfjfh u'~hg aG5 To;}n] cl3 al9 /x]sf] d'lStufdL kfOnfdf knkn d]/f] klg ;fy x'G5 . ;du| g]kfn / g]kfnLsf] sNof0fsf nflu klxrfg ;lxtsf] ;ª\3Lotf agfcf}F /ftkl5sf] ;'gf}nf] laxfgL x'G5 .
;ª\3Lotf ag]kl5 nf]kf]Gd'v ;Dk|bfo ;+:s[lt hf]ufpg ;lsG5 ;a}sf] clwsf/ a/fa/ x'G5 ;fdfGo dgd'6fj / a]OdfgL x/fP/ hfG5 ta b]z ckx/0f d'St x'G5 . To;}n] cfpm ;j{lxtsf nflu xft ldnfpm .
a]nfot
428 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Laden the curses on the corrupt And decorate the honest with bliss And then the nation will prosper.
Drops upon drops form a river Sound on sound sounds a bellow Thus, the stride for freedom marching forward Include mine, too, every moment. For welfare of the entire Nepal and Nepalese Let’s design the federalism with identity And dawns, after the night, the golden morning.
After going federal Will get protected the endangered sect and culture Equal rights we all will have Minor misunderstanding and deceit will vanish Then, the nation will be freed from abduction. Let’s join hands for welfare of all.
Belayat
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 429 k/b]zdf d]/f] b]z ■ zld{nf kf]v/]n d]/f] b]z d;Fu} Kn]gdf r9\of] / d]/} 5]psf] l;6df a:of] d]/f] b]z d}n] nfpg] /ftf] 6Lsf / kf]t]df cfof] d]/f] b]z d}n] af]Ng] g]kfnL efiffdf cfof] d]/f] b]z ufoqL dGqdf cfof] k"hfsf] sf]7fdf cfof] d]/f dgdf ePsf t]lQ;sf]l6 b]jtfdf cfof] sf] eG5 d}n] b]z 5f]8]/ cfPF < d]/f] b]z t ;w}F d]/f] 5fofF eP/ cfof]
Sofg8f
430 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf My Country in the Alien Country ■ Sharmila Pokhrel
My country Boarded the plane with me And took the seat beside me. My country got here with me In the red Tika and Pote My country Came up to in the language I speak. My country Appeared with the pious Gayatri mantra Rolled up in my room for worship And turned up In the thirty-three trillion gods in my heart. Who dare say I came abroad, leaving my country back? All the time, in the form of my shadow My country got here.
Canada
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 431
web source:www.khasskhass.com O{Zj/ / dfG5] ■ lzj k|sfz dfG5] xf} eg] ltdL vf]n cfFvf of] ;+;f/ ltdL gx]/L x'Fb}g, O{Zj/ xf} eg] ltdL lrDn tL cfFvf of] ;+;f/ x]g]{ ;fx; ltdLdf x'Fb}g Û of] ljeT; ;+;f/ dfG5], x]/]/ /dfO /x]5 O{Zj/, x]g{ 8/fO /x]5 .
;w}F lapFlemPsf] dfG5] ;fd' ;w}F cfFvf lrlDnPsf] O{Zj/ lgbfPsf] x}g 8/fPsf] xf] . x/}Frf, df]/ª xfnM cd]l/sf
432 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Providence and Human ■ Shiva Prakash
Provided that you are human Do open your eyes You must see this world, Provided that you are providence Do close those eyes You are not valorous enough to see this world!
Human is shamelessly happy To see this macabre world But Providence is afraid of the ghastly scene.
In front of the ever-awake human The ever-eyes-closing providence Is not fallen asleep But afraid unprecedentedly.
Haraincha Morang Current : America
Translation: Suresh Hachekali
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 433
web source:www.khasskhass.com oL pkdfx? c:jLsfo{ 5g\ dnfO{ ■ ;d/ r]Dhf]ª ‘cfef;’ d ;Ltf d kfj{tL d /fwf d sfnL d nIdL d b'uf{ d hggL k[YjL oL ;a} of] /ª\ud~rdf ltdLn] lbPsf pkdfx¿ x'g\ . log} pkdfx¿sf] e'ne'n}ofdf e'nfP/ d]/f] :jTj aGws agfof} / dnfO{ pkef]Uo j:t' h:t} cfk"m v';L ef]Uof} d]/f] ;f}bfafhL ul/ /Xof} ;fdflhs aGwgsf] xjfnf lbP/ d, d x'g'sf] cl:tTj e]l6 /Xof} k'mn h:tf] d]/f] hLjg /f}FbL /Xof} d]/f ;'s'df/L efjgfx¿ lgdf]l7 /Xof} d]/f] :jl0f{d ;kgf
434 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf These Symbols are not Acceptable to Me ■ Samar Chemjong ‘Avas’
Me Sita Me Parbati Me Radha Me Kali Me Laxmi Me Durga Me, the mother earth Are all the godly symbols you entitled me In this playhouse.
Getting me muffled in the maze of these symbols, You mortgaged my essence And like the things for utility Used me as per your desire. You kept on trading me In the name of social ties. You continued snubbing on my existence as me; Prolonged perishing my flowery life; Lingered in squeezing my tender emotions; My golden dreams And desires and expectations were run over by your feet.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 435 / OR5f cfsfª\Iffx¿ s'lNr /Xof} sfutL lgr/] e}mF lgr/L /Xof} cfFksf] sf]of r';] emF} r'l; /Xof} c;'/ eIfs ag]/ . oL pkdfx¿sf] kbf{leq d Ps ;';f/], wfO{ ag]sL 5' gf]sgL{ bf;L ePsL 5' cf]5\ofg ttfpg] skf; ag]sL 5' Kof; a'emfpg] kfgL ag]sL 5' aRrf hGdfpg] oGq ePsL 5' dgf]/~hgsf] ;fdfg ePsL 5' Jofkfl/s lj1fkgsf] ;fwg ag]sL 5' ;f]s];df ;hfOPsf] j:t' ePsL 5' . oL s0f{lk|o pkdfx¿ kf}/fl0fs bz{g / ljrf/x¿ d]/f] :jtGqtfsf] d"nf]R5]bg ub{} 5g\ d]/f] k|ultsf] afws aGb} 5g\ ;fdflhs tuf/f] ag]/ dnfO{ y'g5]s ub{} 5g\ d dfG5] x'g'sf] clwsf/ vf]:b} 5g\ To;}n] ltdLn] lbPsf oL pkdfx¿ dnfO{ c:jLsfo{ 5g\ / ltdLn] lbPsf oL pkdfx¿ ltdLnfO{ g} lkmtf{ lbP/ d dfq Ps :jtGq dfG5] x'g rfxG5' .
n]6fª– (, df]/ª xfn M o'=P=O{
436 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf You kept on pulverizing me like crushing a lemon; Sucked me like sucking a mango seed Becoming a demonic knight in the shining armor.
In the veils of these symbols I have been a dry-nurse, an attendant Been a slave-like servant The cotton warming the bed The water quenching the thirst The machine producing children And ‘a thing’ for entertainment The means for business advertisement And the show-cased material. These ear-pleasing symbols The traditional philosophies and contemplations Are slaying the roots of my liberation Standing as a cordon on my pathway to progress Stopping me Turning out to be barricade in my progress Confiscating me of my right to be a human being Therefore, the symbols you have presented me Are unacceptable to me And the symbols that you have given me Giving you back in return I want to live just like a liberated human being.
Letang -9, Morang At present : UAE
Translated by Rupendra Pokharel
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 437 cfdfsf] k'sf/ ■ ;df >L b'O{ xft hf]8]/ 3'F8f w;L cfFvf lrDn]/ d}n] Wofgdf ha O{Zj/ ;Demg vf]h]F ToxfF s'g} cfs[lt em'lNsPg ToxfF s'g} ljDa b]lvPgg\ b]lvP t s]jn d]/f lzz'x¿sf caf]w cw/x¿ d]/f lzz'sf lgZ5n cfFvfx¿ log}sf] /Iffy{ d 3G6f}F al; /x]F pxL d'b|fdf oxfF of] Åbodf s] ;Ns]sf] cfuf] of lk/ < b'j}sf] hng p:t} p:t} eIf ceIf geGg] cfuf] sf]dn s7f]/ Åbo g5'6\ofpg] lk/ /ftf]lbg ;tfO /xG5 ToxfFeGbf a9L sDk x[bodf uO /x]sf] 5
438 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Mother's Prayer ■ Sama Shree
With two hands clasped, knees planted Eyes closed in concentration When I tried to remember God No figure appeared No image was visible What appeared only Were the innocent lips and un-deceitful eyes Of my children For whose protection alone I kept on sitting for hours In the same symbolic gesture.
What is ignited here in this heart-- Fire or anguish? The burning of both is equal: Fire doesn't say consumable or inconsumable Anguish doesn't distinguish delicate or hard Both of them coerce day in and day out A greater tremor is in the heart Disappointment, dejectedness, incapability Instigate to accept defeat
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 439 xtf;, pbf;L, c;dy{tf xf/ dfGgnfO{ pTk|]l/t u5{g\ d km]l/ sfFk]/ cfFvf lrDnG5' cfzf cfP/ sfgdf km':km';fO lbG5 w}o{ /fv w}o{ /fv
5}g b'a{n 5}g yfxf 5 cfTdxTof c:yfoL ;d:ofsf] :yfoL ;dfwfg dfq xf] dleqsf]] b'a{ntfsf] pkrf/ dleq} 5 cfk"mleqsf] zlQmdf ljZjf; 5 s?0ffsf] s'g} efiff 5}g s?0ffsf] s'g} zAb 5}g s?0ff alw/ ;'Gg ;S5 s?0ff b[li6ljxLg b]Vg ;S5 t]/f] cl:tTj ;xif{ :jLsf/ tF b]Vg ;S5;\, tF ;'Gg ;S5;\ cfdfsf] pkf;gf cfdfsf] k'sf/ x] eujfg\ dnfO{ w}o{ b] x] eujfg\ w}o{ clxNo} b] .
rfalxn, sf7df8f}F xfn M Oh/fon
440 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Trembling again I close my eyes And hope lingers and whispers in my ears: Gather patience! Gather patience!
No, I'm not weak I know Suicide is Only the permanent solution Of a temporary problem The remedy of my inner weakness Is within myself I've a trust on my intrinsic strength Compassion has no language Compassion has no word Compassion can hear the deafness Compassion can see the sightless I happily accept your existence See you can; hear you can Mother's devotion and mother's prayer. O God! Give me patience O God! Give me patience right away.
Chabahil, Kathmandu Currently in Israel
Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 441 8f]a Û ■ ;Ldf /f];L
Pslbg, ;Demgf 5, ha cfdfnfO{ labfO u/]sL lyPF, ToxL lbgb]lv k'vf{sf] 8f]afO l;/fgL agfP/ ;'t]sf] 5' tL /f];L / u08sL, tL 5fFuf / 5x/f, hxfF em'N5g\ rGb| / ;"o{ 5ftLdf h'g" / ;fg"sf ctLtx¿ ;Fufn]/ xfF;]sL 5' tL xl/of ufpF a];L, tL lxdfn, tL a'4, / of] gofF Sofgefiffdf cl8Psf] k|jf; Û oxfF efn] af:b}g, ldld{/] gx'Fb} OGsfpG6/df e]l6G5 ;xkf7L æxfp cf/ o' d]6 <Æ gofF e]if, gofF 6f]g, gofF /ª\u,
442 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Mark ■ Seema Rosi
The day I remember When I bid farewell to my mother. Since that day I've been sleeping With the ancestral mark made into a pillow The Rosi and the Gandaki The falls and fountains Where the sun and the moon swing I've smiled gathering the past of Junu and Sanu in my heart With those green villages and valleys Those Himals The Buddha In this foreign land resting on the new canvas.
The cock's crow doesn't give a wakeup call here Before the dawn a co-worker bumps into and asks How are you, friend? New costumes New accent New color In the run of rules and regulation I've forgotten
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 443 ?n / /]u'n];gdf Pp6f leGg lgofqf e'n]sf] 5' sfgx¿ g8f]Ab} 6]g{ / uf8Ldf cfjfhdf k|jf; Ao'FemG5 ;xofqLnfO{ ge]6]sf] s}ofF} lbg ef] /ftdf gfgLx¿nfO{ w]/} k6s ld; ul/ ;s]sL 5' . t}klg uf}0f 5g\ cfsl:dstfx¿ cfh w]/} jif{kl5 gofF gfd ylkPsf] 5 xftdf k|df0fkq, l8eL / lkcf/, kf6L{df af];sf] d':sfg 5l/G5– æCongratulation Dof8dÆ gofF 3/, gofF uf8L, gofF ha clg l8:sf] / af/, ;FuLx¿ cfj/0fdf /Db} hfG5g\ cfh d / k|jf;, kl;gf / /utsf] d"No k'5]sf] 5' Û klg cfh u'/fF; ;f]W5, a'sL / 6fFsL ;f]W5 ;fdlostfn] gufFem]sf] dg kxf8sf 5ftLx¿df rNdnfpg vf]H5g\ xf], cfdf tL ;FuL, tL ;fyL, tL l5d]sL tL b;}F, tL ltxf/, Tof] Nxf]5f/ of] Jo:ttfdf k"0f{ 5}g of] 6fOd addf ;'vL 5}g d g]kfn kms{G5' .
c:6]«lnof
444 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf A distinct journey's story Before the ears open This foreign land awakens in the sound of trains and vehicles Many days have elapsed since I met my spouse I've missed the babies many a times at night.
Yet insignificant are unexpected chances A new name is added today after many years; A certificate in hand, a DV and a PR The boss smiles in the party and says "Congratulations Madam" New home, new vehicle And when in new bar and disco Friends continue enjoying in a new garb The foreign land and I've Wiped the cost of sweat and blood today Yet the rhododendron asks even today Cut weed and Malabar ebony ask today The heart un-entangled with timeliness Wants to play on the mountain breast Yes, Mama! Those companions, those friends Those neighbors The Dashain and the Tihar The Lhochar are not complete in this busyness I am not happy in this time-bound world I am returning to Nepal.
Australia
Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 445 sf];]nL ■ ;'bLkeb| vgfn n}hfg] ef]ln s ] xf] hg lsg dgsf] lbJo v'Nb}g cfFvf cfTdfsf] 5}g ld7f] d[b'kg d'vdf lk|o nfUb}g efsf lx+;fdf cfh pœof] lsg dg'h :jo+ x'G5 ef]ln sxfF s] /f]Pem}F nfU5 SjfF SjfF jglar s?jf cfh ;+;f/df /] . e]l6Ggg\ sd{ lzNkL lsg o'u'g o'uf}F afFRg ;Sg] lbuGt aGb}gg\ cfh xfd|f lsg cd/syf ls+jbGtL hLjg jf;GtL uLt 5}gg\ g 5 cw/df dGb d':sfg s:tf] dfG5]sf] of]Uotf s] lsg dg'hsf] 5ftL kfiff0f h:tf] . bGs]sf] pmWj{ Hjfnf cxd / kbsf] nf]e pDnL ljlrq kGk]sf] qmf]w sfnf] dglar tdsf] sfd cf;lStleq kf;f]df cfh cfˆg} sn'if / ljlbiff df]xsf] hfnleq cGwf]em}F cfh dfG5] ljsn / aa'/f] nfU5 ;+;f/leq .
:jfyL{ of] eJotfdf s0fs0f /hsf b'u{ j}eJozfnL e]l6G5g\ uNnLuNnL dw'3/ dbsf eJo dfT;o{ dfnL] rf}tf/L rf]/ r9\5g\ cd's / cbgf lgTo r9\5g\ l;/fdf Jofwfem}F nfU5 dfG5] lsg 5 dg'htf cf]ln{bf] z"Gotfdf <
446 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Souvenir ■ Sudeep Bhadra Khanal
What carries man tomorrow on death; why hasn't the divine eye of intelligence been shown? Missing on face is the sweet tenderness of the soul; pleasing doesn't sound the tone Why has man descended into violence today; what will happen to man tomorrow? As if weeping loudly amidst the pathless forest; appears man in the world today.
Why don't emerge craftsmen who could remain immortal for ages in the horizon? Why don't stories of immortal deeds form into life's legends? Why are there neither sweet songs nor graceful smiles on the lips? What is the worth of man; why is man's heart hard like a rock?
Burning high is the flame of pride and steaming the amazing greed of power Nurtured is black anger in the heart full of darkness, lust and attachment Entrapped is man today in the snare of self impurity and envy Man seems like a blind person lonely and miserable in the world.
Selfishness in a glorious form creeps like particles of dust in magnificent castles
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 447 db{} 5f}F Joy{ xfdL g/ lsg kz'em}F cfh cfˆg} w/fdf n8\b} 5f}F bfh' efO 3/3/ ga'emL cfh cfˆg} u/fdf ;Sb}gf}F afFRg xfdL lsg g/ husf ljZj aGw'Tjleq sf]b{}gf}F xfdLleq} lsg hue/sf] Ps ;+;f/ lrq Û s] x'G5f}F ef]ln xfdL ej, ge ljhoL x'G5 of] ;Eotf s] eGg]5f}F e]l6Pdf c¿ u|xx¿sf hLj ;Gb]zdf s] cfkm}df cfh n8\g] dg'h k/ k'uL ldNg s] ;S5 ef]ln < s] xf]nf :jKg xfd|f] u|xu|x gesf af; a:g] l5rf]nL . x] dfG5] kmflnb] hf /h td, ;tsf] lbJo eb{} p8fg dfG5]df z'e eb{} ljgo / s?0ff k|]d cfTdLo 1fg jf~5fdf t'li6 eb{} k'nlst ul/b] Ps kf/L dg'io km}nfO{ lbJo Hof]lt nx/ dg'htf afFl8b] ;f}dg'io . sf];]nL r]tgfsf], dw'do If0fsf], sd{sf] ;fwgfsf] pb\e6\ wLM l;h{gfsf] >d clg l;ksf] lah ;~r]tgfsf] n}hf hf d[To' gf3L tF ;do;l/ e} Jof]duª\uf rxf/L /fvL hf 5ftLdf x] dg' Û dg'htf, k|]d af]s]/ ef/L .
cd]l/sf
448 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Encountered at every street are celebrated connoisseurs of splendid liquor stalls Thieves climb up to the resting place; the nameless, insignificant and lowly reach the top Man looks like a hunter; why is man vacuous and dispirited everywhere? Dying we are meaninglessly like animals in our own land today Brothers are fighting against brothers in their own meadow without knowledge today Why cannot humans of the world survive with a feeling of universal brotherhood? Why don't we draw a universal image of the world within ourselves? What will happen to us, the victors of the earth and sky; what will happen to this civilization? What message shall we convey to the living beings of other planets if we meet them? Can humans fighting among themselves befriend others tomorrow? What will happen to our dream of exploring and inhabiting on planets of the cosmos? Oh Humans! Give up passion, pride and ignorance; take the magnificent flight of truth By filling in man virtues of humility, mercy, love and self knowledge And by giving a sense of contentment to the youth; give a thrill to humanity once By spreading the magnificent wave of the light of knowledge; dispense satisfaction of the mind. Souvenir of consciousness, of sweet and lovely time, of action and dedication Of inaugurating intellect of creativity, of hard work and skills, of the seed of goodwill Defeat death like time and take it through the Milky Way O Man! Keep in your heart wherever you go the bunch of love. America Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 449 pgn] s;/L a'l´g\ ■ ;'n]vf e08f/L p;sf] vhdlhPsf] cg'xf/n] lgÚ x}g g t ToxfFsf] ;Ggf6fn] s]jn p;sf cfFvfdf x]/]/ eGg ;SyL pm Pstfsf pgLx¿n] k|r'/ dgf]j]u, k|]d / ;fx;nfO{ cª\ufnf] df/]sf lyP, tL p;sf] ;f]+r;Dd k'Ug] /f:tfx¿ lyP . c´ klg pm ToxfF lyO{ ;+j]bgfxLg lgsf;nfO{ lgofNb} ?g] ;fx; ug{ ;Sb}gyL pm p;sf] d'vaf6 km'Tsg] s'g} cfjfhn] klg p;sf] cg'e"ltnfO{ cg'jfb ug{ ;Sb}gYof] . st} p;sf] hLjg cfˆg} cufl8 l´Nsf] an]sf] lyof] ls < pm p;sf] dl:tisdf x'FbL xf] ls < sf]xL ;Ôd xf]nf ls p;sf clGtd ;f]rx¿ cYof{pg < s;/L pmdfly of] ah|kft k¥of] < s] of] sd}{sf] v]n lyof] t < k|]d cefjsf] t'È t lgZro klg lyPg,
450 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com How did She Know ? ■ Sulekha Bhandari
Neither by his wrinkled face Nor by the dead silence there She could tell just by looking into his face That they had once embraced Abundant emotion, love and courage And they were routes reaching his thought.
She was still there Watching the outlet devoid of sensitivity She couldn't gather courage to cry No any sound that came out of his mouth Could ever translate her experience.
How this misfortune did befall on her Was it a sport of her destiny? It was not definitely the ill-will of the lack of love She lay beside him thinking: Will something change? The earth won't stop revolving Humans would continue living. What do they know how tormented she is within
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 451 t} klg pm p;sf] lsgf/df kN6L, sNkgf ub}{– s]xL kl/jt{g xf]nf < k[lyjL 3'Dg 5f]8\g] 5}g dfG5]x¿ afFRb} /xg] 5g\ . pgLx¿nfO{ s] yfxf leq slt k|tfl8t 5] pm sf] ;S5 cfTdf lr/f kg]{ P]7gL /ftx¿df ;fÔL a:g < pm c¿sf nflu Pp6f JolSt dfq g xf] t/ p;sf nflu pm ;ayf]s lyof] . xfF;f], Kof/ / v';L NofO lbPsf] lyof] p;n] p;nfO{ cfˆg} /fÔ;L k|j[lQaf6 d'lSt lbnfpg ;xof]u u/]sf] lyof] p;n] p;n] cfk"mnfO{ p;};Fu e]6L, clxn] p;n] cfk"mnfO{ u'dfpFb} 5] . x[bo cjnf]sgsf] s'g} lg/; 306Lsf] cfjfhn] lyPg, 8fS6/sf] af]nLn] lyPg, p;sf cfFvfdf x]/]/} eGg ;SyL pm p;sf d[t cfFvfx¿ .
cd]l/sf
452 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Who can hold witness of the oppressive nights tearing the soul apart? She is only an individual for others But he was everything for her. He had brought laughter, love and happiness And assisted her to liberate her From her own demonic tendencies She found herself with him Now she is losing herself.
Nor by the insensitive sound measuring the heartbeat Nor by what the doctor spoke She could tell just by looking at his eyes His dead eyes.
America
Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 453 8fo:kf]/f ■ xl/ l3ld/] d k/]jf otf ptf rf/f] vf]Hb} :jtGqtfk"j{s lxF8\g] r/f Û d kf}/vL v]t vlnxfgdf :jtGqtfk"j{s dhb'/L ub}{ lxF8]sf] dhb'/ d sd{7 b; gª\u|f lvofP/ afFr]sf] k|f0fL d :jtGqtfk|]dL d dfgjtfk|]dL t/ ufF;, jf;, skf;n] ;'Gb/ eljiosf] cf;n] ;w}F lylrPsf] cefj} cefjsf 9'ª\ufn] ;w}F lslrPsf] d df6f];Fu d'6' dha't x'Fbf x'Fb} klg d]/f d'6'sf] ;DaGwnfO{ yftL /fv]/ :jtGqtfdf /Dg] xftd'v hf]g]{
454 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Diaspora ■ Hari Ghimire
A pigeon- that’s who I am Sailing expressly through the clouds In search of precious feed I’m a pigeon in complete abandon A replica of peace and freedom I’m industrious as I’m confident I work in my field in freedom I’m a laborer an active person I’m a lover of freedom A true friend of humanity However, As a person bogged down too much Under enormous pressure Pressure of navigating through Obstacles of daily sustenance Pressure of wanting to realize A bright future for my family Left behind I have my roots, my soil In search of a better livelihood And thus have landed in America
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 455 ;Gtltsf] eljio x]b}{ clg hLjgfwf/sf] af6f] vf]Hb} ;xf/f d?e"lddflyaf6 p8\b} p8\b} km'n kfg{ / aRrf sf]/Ng l;d;f/ vf]Hb} lxF8]sf] d luh cd]l/sfsf] df6fdf plqPsf] 5' d}n] yfxf kfPF– of] df6f], Tof] df6f] dxs Pp6} 5 of] kl;gf Tof] kl;gf /ª\u Pp6} 5 /f]wL oxfF klg gfr]sf] 5' k'/f0f oxfF klg ;'g]sf] 5' d]/f] b;}+ ltxf/ ot} ot} e]6]sf] 5' au{/ / lkHhfleq l98f] /f]6L b]v]sf] 5' ljjfx a|taGwsf] e]nf 5 a]gL3f6sf] d]nf 5 km/s s]xL 5}g t/ ufF;, jf;, skf;sf] d]/f] z/L/ oxfF Hofbf ;'/lIft 5 :jtGqtfdf rg]{ cfsfz oxfF Hofbf km}n]sf] 5 t} klg d]/f] df6f] d}l;t 5 d]/f] d'6' d}l;t 5 d}n] latfPsf] afNosfn v]n]sf 8'n]sf clj:d/0fLo ;do sfn ;a} d}l;t 5g\ d]/f] hGde"ld clxn] sd{e"ld b'a} d}l;t 5g\ . cd]l/sf
456 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I have realized oh so subtly My own land and this land Both have similar scent A similar flavor hard to define That perspiration and this sweat Color remains the same I’ve danced the "Rodi" here too As I have listened to scriptures
I have seen my Dashain and Tihar Right here with my family Have noticed in a pizza or a burger My own Dhindo or Roti Right here I’ve seen an elaborate Nepali wedding Just as I’ve witnessed a Bratabandha setting Difference I find there’s none
But my body of food, shelter and clothing I find is more secure here The immense expanse of sky of freedom Looks more spread out here Yet my soil is very much with me My heart is still a very close part of me The childhood that I have spent The time and tide that I have braved They’re all with me They’re there back in my country As they’re here in this unfamiliar land!
America
Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 457 :jb]zsf] ;Demgf ■ xl/ kf}8]n
Tof] sn}of gu/ glhs}sf] a}l/of d]/f] ufpF ;8ssf cun / aundf l;:gf]sf] emf8L vfN8f / v'N8L w'nf] clg x'/L laxfgLkv ;}/df lxF8]sf] Tof] If0f kms{+bf d'vdf lgdsf] bltjg clg Tof] rf]ssf] lrof /fli6«o cGt/f{li6«o /fhgLlts ukmdf d:t d's'Gb sfsf / >L/fd bfO k|ofu rfrf / hf]luGb/ efO oxfF ljb]zdf d]/f] cfFvfn] 3/L 3/L jiff{t a;f{O /x]5 cfh lsg lsg dnfO{ d]/f] b]z d]/f] ufpF ofb cfO /x]5 cfFugdf Ogf/, clg dlGb/ tyf t'n;Lsf tL af]6x¿ /fd /fd / s[i0f s[i0f n]lvPsf tL leQfx¿ lqk'08 nufO{ WofgdUg d]/L a'9L xh'/ cfdf 5f]/f] slxn] kms{nf egL ;8stkm{ x]l/ /x]sL d]/L cfdf a/G8fdf ;f]rdf 8'la /x]sf d]/f a'9f afa'
458 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com Memory of the Motherland ■ Hari Paudel
The Kalaiya Municipality and my nearby village, Baraiya The bushes of stinging nettle on both sides of the road Potholes, dust and the whirlwind The moment of going on a morning walk The brush of Neem stem in the mouth while returning The tea at the teashop at crossroads Uncle Mukunda and Prayag Brother Shreeram and Joginder, who're Lost in joy in gossips of national and international politics Tears run from my eyes in this foreign land over and over again I don't know why I remember my country and village today.
The water-well in the yard, the temple and the basil plant The walls with the writing of deity's names- Rama and Krishna My meditating grandmother with sandal paste on her forehead My mother glancing towards the road thinking of my return My old father sunken in a deep thought on the verandah The Royal Raut standing at the door with a bucket of milk The loud laugh of the neighboring sister-in-law Such memories are haunting me today
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 459 9f]sfdf b'wsf] aflN6g lnO{ ple /x]sf] Tof] b/af/L /fpt clg l5d]sL efph"sf] 7'nf] xfF;f]sf] :j/ cflb cflbsf] ;Demgfn] ca lgs} ;tfO /x]sf] 5 cfh lsg lsg dnfO{ d]/f] b]z d]/f] ufpF ofb cfO /x]5
3/L g/xl/ sxfF 3/L dl0f/fh sxfF 3/L ljj]sgfGbhL sxfF eg] 3/L ljzfn sxfF g s'g} …Plu|d]G6Ú g s'g} …cKj}G6d]gG6Ú g s'g} …x]Nnf]Ú / ÚYofÍ o"Ú sf] cf}krfl/stf g} ;a} Psh'6 eO{ e}F;Ldf r9L ;x|}of kf]v/Ldf 8'a'NsL nufpFYof}F rsrGgfdf rf]/]sf] Tof] sfFqmf] / ef]u6]x¿ st} vlnxfgdf n's]/ vfGYof}F ca ;a} ;kgf eO{ oxfF dg ljrlnt u/fO /x]sf] 5 cfh lsg lsg dnfO{ d]/f] b]z d]/f] ufpF ofb cfO /x]5
6'lnk} 6'lnkn] el/Psf] b]z 5}g nfnLu'/fF; oxfF
;'Gg kfOG5 / ef]hk'/L jf bf]x/L uLt g} sxfF uof] b;}F, cfof] ltxf/ g ksjfg kfPF d}n] g s'g} kmnfxf/
460 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I don't know why I remember my country and village today.
Sometimes at Narahari's Sometimes at Maniraj's Sometimes at Bibekanand's And sometimes at Bishal's Without any agreement Without any appointment Without any formality of 'hello' and 'thank you' We all gathered, and climbing on the buffaloes We used to dip in Saraiya Pond The cucumber and grape fruit stolen at Chakchanna We used eat hiding at some threshing floor They all have been the part of a dream And are making the mind instable I don't know why I remember my country and village today.
This country is full of tulips There are no rhododendrons There is no chance to listen to Bhojpuri and Dohorigeet Dashain is over, Tihar has started Neither did I get roasted food items (Pakawan) nor any fruits Neither there's the yard nor the door Neither Deusi nor Bhailo. What is there then? Hengan beer in the hand Tears in the eyes Oh my dear! Here Nobody cares Life is like a machine Always in haste
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 461 g cfFug 5 g b}nf] g b]p;L g e}nf] s] 5 t oxfF < xftdf x]g]sg lao/ cfFvfdf l6o/ cf] dfO l8o/, lxo/ < gf]a8L s]o/ lhGbuL d]l;g h:t} eof] ;w}F xtf/ xtf/df lemlDdSs /ft laT5 pxL lemNs] af/df rf}/f;L Jo~hgn] el/Psf] cufl8 8fOlgª 6]a'n eP tfklg pxL tfdf / u'Gb|'ssf] :jfbn] nf]EofO /x]sf] 5 cfh lsg lsg dnfO{ d]/f] b]z d]/f] ufpF ofb cfO /x]5 cfh lsg lsg dnfO{ d]/f] b]z d]/f] ufpF ofb cfO /x]5 .
g]b/NofG8
462 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The night passes in a wink In the glittering bar Even though the dining table Is full of variety of foods The taste of Gundruk and tama Has tempted me I don't know why I remember my country and village today I don't know why I remember my country and village today.
Netherlands ------Bhojpuri : Songs of Bhojpuri language with a very fast beat Dohorigeet : Duet song sung by boys and girls Dashain : Hindu's major religious festival Tihar : A festival that falls after Dashain--a festival of lights Deusi : Song sung during Tihar Bhailo : Song sung during Tihar Gundruk : Dust of the leaves of radish prepared after fermentation and widely liked by Nepali and mixed in lentils and vegetables Tama : Fermented tender shoots of bamboo mixed in lentil and vegetables
Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 463 ?v ■ xfª\o'u c1ft pEbf pEb} rf}sLbf/sf] lhGbuL af/ af/ 306f of] xfd|f] xf]ªsf]ªdf k}tfnfaf6 h/fx¿ knfP/ xftaf6 kftx¿ knfP/ lhpaf6 xfFufx¿ knfP/ d t ?v eO;s]F 5' Û r/fx¿ v]N5g\ dgsf] xfFufxfFuf 3/L of] xfFuf, 3/L Tof] xfFuf uLt ufpF5g\ lrl/la/L Rof6\==Rof6\== Rof6\===Rof6\== lrl/la/L=== Û / pl8 hfG5g\ :jtGqtfsf] lgnf] cfsfz, d h8, a'6el/ bafP/ cfsfª\Iffsf] atf; v:b} lgl/x jt{dfg :vlnt ;dosf] kx]Fnf] kft d t ?v eO;s]F 5' Û ca ?v e};s]kl5 km]l/ gx'g gkfOg] /x]5 afFlr;s]sf] hLjg klg
464 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Tree ■ Hangyug Agyat
Standing all through In this life of a watchman For twelve hours in Hong Kong Roots have grown from the soles Leaves from the hands Branches from the body And I have become a tree.
Birds play on the branches of my heart Moving from this branch to that branch They sing songs in a twit-twit And fly towards the blue sky of independence I am rooted Suppressing in the boots the fresh air of ambitions I descend to the helpless present Like a yellow leaf of passing time I've become a tree.
After becoming a tree Unbecoming is not given The life that is lived Cannot be revisited.
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 465 lkmtf{ gkfOg] /x]5 Û ca ?v e};s]kl5 dfG5] h:tf] otf ptf x'nd'ndf if8\oGq /Rb} /fhgLltsf] 7'6] g]tf x'g klg g;lsg] /x]5 ca ?v e};s]kl5 Ps} 7fpF pleP/ lg:;f/tfn] la:tf/ la:tf/sf] d[To' s'g'{ l;jfo s'g} qmflGtsf/Ln] h:tf] plkF|mb} efif0f 7f]Sg klg g;lsg] /x]5 Û af];f]sf] cfn:otf yKb} a'l4df sNkgfn] 3'd]/ b]zljb]z Ps} 7fpF ;fOlss\ ple /xg' d rf}lsbf/ Û u'sf{=== l7ªl/ª\u k;n k;ndf=== a}+sdf===9f]sf 9f]sfdf===njL njLdf /x/sf ;'s]sf xfFufx¿ dgn] lkl6s\ lkl6s\ efFRb} d'6'df oyfl:yltsf] ‰ofp knfP/ d t ?v eO;s]F 5' Û ?v e};s]kl5 ?v g} x'g' kbf]{ /x]5 / of] ;x/sf] k|b"lift le8af6 efUg' ?vn] klg sljn] h:tf] ;f]Rg' kbf]{ /x]5 gq s'/]/ a:g' kbf]{ /x]5 s'g} cfFlwa]x/L===ls h/}l;t p8fP/ n}hfcf]];\ h8tf pEbf pEb} rf}lsbf/sf] lhGbuL o;/L g} xfdL ?v x'G5f}F / dfG5]x¿sf] aufnaf6 cnu x'G5f}F Û xªsª
466 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf After becoming a tree Hatching conspiracies to become a dwarfish political leader Like a man in the crowd here and there Can also not be done. After becoming a tree, Except waiting for gradual death By standing at a place worthlessly, High sounding emotional speeches cannot be delivered Like any revolutionary. Adding lethargic fat to the mind Travelling around the world in imagination Standing like a psychopath I'm a Watchman, a Gurka! Standing straight at every shop At the bank, at the door, at the lobby I break one by one The dry branches of unfulfilled desires Bearing the lichen of status quo on the heart I've become a tree. After becoming a tree One has to be a tree To run away from the polluted crowd of this city The tree also requires thinking like a poet Or else is required waiting at a place For any storm to come Which blows away from roots the rootedness While standing In the life of a watchman We become trees like this And become distinct from the crowd of men. Hong Kong Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 467 lraf]ssf s]6Lx? ■ lxSdt yfkf cfh km]l/ lbpF;} P]F7g eof] dfly n]srf8sf] lsgf/faf6 lraf]ssf s]6Lx¿sf cft{gfbx¿ ;'lgP sxfF 5 < xF afFsL b'lgofF xfdL Tof] O{Zj/sf] /fHosf nflu lkrf;x¿sf] oftgf u[xdf ;Daf];fsf] of] 3fF;] hª\undf d[To'sf kfFr ;of}F lbg ef]Ub} 5f}F .
Guf]hLsf cfVofg n]Vg] cIf/x¿ ;f]of]Gsfsf gf6sdf af]lng] cfjfhx¿ dnfnf o';f]kmf]Osf efif0fsf ;'l/nf :j/x¿ jf lbg lbg} ……xfd|f s]6Lx¿ lkmtf{ n]pmÚÚsf cvaf/df 5flkg] sfnf 7'nf cIf/x¿ sxLF st} ;'lgPg 5g\ sxLF st} kl9Pg 5g\ / otf sf]xL cfPgg\
468 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Girls of Chibouk ■ Hikmat Thapa
Today again I'd a nightmare in the daylight From the banks of Lake Chad above The cries of Chibouk's girls were heard saying: Where is the rest of the world? Looking for the Divine Providence In the torture house of the demons In the grassland of Sambosa We're facing five hundred days of death.
Nwakoby's inscription used in writing narratives Sound produced in the plays of Soyinka Sweet and sharp voice of Malala Yusuf's speeches Or, These dark big letters "Bring our girls back" Printed in the newspapers daily Are not heard anywhere Are not read anywhere, and Nobody has come here To take us Where is the government? Where is the international mission?
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 469 xfdLnfO{ lng vf]O sxfF 5 ;/sf/ sxfF 5 cGt/f{li6«o ld;g zflGt ld;g Û
===== lraf]ssf s]6Lx¿, o;} elg /x]5g\, lhpFb} dl/ /x]5g\ . lraf]ssf :s'n] s]6Lx¿ hf] ;f/f ;+;f/ lhTg ev{/} kmqm{+b} lyP, km'Ng} gkfO{ lbg lbg} kqkq eO{ v:b}, ;'Sb}, emb}{ 5g\ / df6f];Fu s'lNrb} 5g\, ltgnfO{ cfttfoL af]sf] x/fdsf a'6x¿ . lk|o 5f]/Lx¿, lraf]ssf s]6Lx¿ d klg a]lx;fa s'b}{ 5' ltd|f d'lStsf lbgx¿ ltd|f d'lStsf lbgdf b]lvg]
;'Gb/ /ª\uLrª\uL ;kgfsf /ftx¿ hxfF lraf]ssf s]6Lx¿ ;+;f/sf ;of}F efUodfgL 5f]/Lx¿ e}mF d;Fu e]6\g] 5g\ / eGg] 5g\ afaf xfdL cfof}F .
gfOh]l/of
470 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf Peace Mission. The girls of Chibouk Are saying it; they are dying live. The young girls of Chibouk Just blooming to win the world Are falling and drying Everyday petal by petal before flowering They are being crushed with the soil Under the boots of wicked Boko Haram.
Dear daughters Girls of chibouk I am also impatiently waiting for The days of your liberation The beautiful and colorful dreamy night Seen on the day of liberation Where the girls of Chibouk Like many other lucky girls of the world Shall meet me and say Father! We've come.
Nigeria
Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 471 cFWof/f] ;fd|fHosf] lzv/af6 ■ x]dGt >]i7
9sdSs km'n]sf 5g\ cFWof/f] c+uf/sf k'mnx¿ sf]7fdf, ;8sdf, cfsfzdf d aGb cfFvfn] tl:a/ lvlr /x]sf] 5' cFWof/f]sf] dnfO{ cFWof/f] c;fWo dg k5{ . cFWof/f] ;[li6sf] ;aeGbf s'¿k ljDa d]/f] Åbosf] P]gfdf ljzfn, ;f}Do / ;'Gb/ jt{dfg eP/ lbuGt km}ln /x]5 cFWof/f] d'v, cFWof/f] dg cFWof/f] hLjg d cFWof/f]nfO{ k|]d u5'{ d cFWof/f]df lt/f]lxt x'g rflx /x]5' / cFWof/f]nfO{ g} ;'Dk]/ ;Dk"0f{ of}jg lglj{sNk d cFWof/f] ;ª\uLt u'l~hg rflx /x]5'
472 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com From the Peak of Dark Empire ■ Hemanta Shrestha
Luxuriantly full-blown are The flowers of dark charcoal In rooms, roads, and the sky I'm taking photographs of darkness With my eyes closed I awfully like the darkness.
Darkness The most ugly image of creation Is spread all around the horizon In the form of Gigantic, gentle and beautiful present. Dark face, dark heart Dark life I love darkness I am willing to disappear in darkness And offering the entire youth Without any alternative I am willing to hum the song of darkness. Dark sea lies within me Limitlessly spread outside is
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 473 cFWof/f] ;fu/ 5 dleq aflx/ ;LdfxLg km}lnPsf] 5 cFWof/f]sf] dxf;fu/ cFWof/} cFWof/f]sf] of] ;fd|fHodf dleqsf] lg/Lx gful/s gofF zbLsf] cFWof/f] zxgzfx x'g h'd'{/fO /x]5 sfnf] u'nfkm sfnf] sdn sfnf] u'F/f; ;[li6sf] ;Dk"0f{ ;[hgf d cFWof/f] /ª\udf b]Vg vf]lh /x]5' sfnf] ljlw sfnf] ljwfg sfnf sd{x¿ d cFWof/f] ;dfhsf ;Dk"0f{ cFWof/f b[Zox¿ cFWof/f] r:dfn] :kz{ ul/ /x]5' cxf Û slt /dfOnf] 5 cFWof/f]sf] syf dnfO{ cFWof/f] c;fWo c;fWo dg k5{ o;sf/0f ls cFWof/f]d}+ uef{wfg x'G5g\ x/]s lbgsf ;'Gb/ laxfgLx¿ cr]n ;dflw:y eP/ cFWof/f]df d cFWof/f] a6'Ng lxFl8 /x]5' b]pm dnfO{ ;Dk"0f{ cFWof/f]sf] jLh b]pm b]pm dnfO{ a|Xdf08sf] ;Dk"0f{ cFWof/f] b]pm lgkmg]/ cf}FzLsf] /ftnfO{
474 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf The ocean of darkness In the empire of darkness The helpless citizen within me is Prompting to be The emperor of the new century.
Dark rose Dark lotus Dark rhododendron And the entire creation of the world I am willing to see in dark color. Dark rules Dark principles Dark actions-- I am touching with dark glasses The dark society's All dark scenes. Wow! How beautiful is the story of darkness I exceptionally like darkness because In darkness itself gestate The beautiful mornings of everyday.
Nowadays Absorbed in contemplation in the dark I'm heading to gather darkness Give me all the seeds of darkness Give me all the darkness of the universe Winnowing the night of dark fortnight Keep the moon and stars with you Give me all the darkness of the night By accumulating all the darkness I'm struggling to produce Energy from darkness
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 475 h'g / tf/fx¿ ltdL;Fu} /fv dnfO{ /ftsf] ;Dk"0f{ cFWof/f] b]pm d ;ª\u|x u/]/ ;f/f cFWof/f] cFWof/f]af6} pmhf{ pdfg{ cfGbf]ng/t 5' cFWof/f]af6 cFWof/f]d} b]lvg] cfFvf pTkfbgsf] v]tLdf pGd'v 5' Ps lbg cFWof/f]d} b]lvg] 5g\ cIf/x¿ cFWof/f]d} rNg]5g\ oGqx¿ / cFWof/f]d} p8\g] 5g\ lhGbuLx¿ s] s'g} cGwfsf] lhGbuL /f]lsPsf] 5 / < cxF k6Ss lg/fz 5}g d cFWof/f] cFuf/sf] k'mn;Fu s'g} c;Gt'li6 5}g cFWof/f] ;fu/ / dxf;fu/;Fu Oltxf;sf] cFWof/f] bf]nfO{ cf]9]/} sf]/lnPsf] xf] of] lhGbuL s'g} u'gf;f] 5}g cFWof/f] jt{dfg;Fu dnfO{ cFWof/f] c;fWo c;fWo dg k5{ o;y{ ls cFWof/f] g} pHofnf]sf] k|:yfg ljGb' xf] dnfO{ cFWof/f] c;fWo c;fWo dg k5{ o;y{ ls oltv]/ cFWof/f] g} pHofnf]sf] klxnf] ;"rs xf] .
cd]l/sf
476 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf I'm involved in the business of producing eyes To see into darkness through darkness One day Letters will be seen in darkness Machines will run in darkness And life will fly in darkness.
Has any blind person's life stopped? No, I'm not at all disappointed There's no dissatisfaction With the flower of dark charcoal Wrapped in a dark quilt of history With dark sea and ocean This life has incubated I've no complaints against dark present.
I awfully like darkness Because Darkness is the point of departure to brightness I like darkness exceptionally Because at this juncture Darkness is the indicator of light.
America
Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 477 s] 5 oxfF Û ■ xf]dgfy ;'j]bL cd]l/sf k:b} d/]sf] lyPF lrxfg}df s]xL ldld{/] pHofnf] b]v] h:tf] nfUof] clg pxL /ft d/]sf] 5' lbg t b]Vg} kfOgF p;nfO{ t d}n] g]kfnd} 5f]8]sf] 5' .
tfsd DofUbL, xfn M cd]l/sf
478 ● g]kfnL 8fo:kf]/fsf sljtf
web source:www.khasskhass.com What's There! ■ Homnath Subedi
I'd expired while entering America On the tomb I felt I noticed some flicker of light Ever since I've lived the same night Day! I've never seen I've left him In Nepal.
Takam, Magdi At present : America
Translated by Amar Raj Joshi
Poems of the Nepali Diaspora ● 479