माया

कहाँ पुग्या छ र संसार मलाई
जिउनु छ रम्दै अझै मलाई
म सुन्छु, बोल्छ यो मन कहिलेकाँही
माया मेरी नडराउनु अरे
रात पर्दासम्म
घर आइपुग्छ रे !

सुन तिमी गीत झरीको
हेर उडान त्यो पुन्टे चरीको
बाँसहरुको झारी उचाली
गाउँछन् कागहरु पनि गीत अनौठो

सुन तिमी कथा समयको
जीवन सरल छ भन्छन्
माया सफल हुन्छ भन्छन्
साँचो झुटो कुराको मेल
लुकामारी जस्तै यो खेल
माया,
माया मायानै हुँदो रहेछ
त्यहि पनि
कहाँ पुग्या छ र माया मलाई..

 

 

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मैले तिम्रो मन चिन्न सकिन

मैले तिम्रो मन चिन्न सकिन

मलाइ लाग्थ्यो तिम्रो आत्मापनि अँध्यारो थियो
मुस्काम तिम्ले पनि बजार बाट किनेकी थियौ
हासो तिम्रो पनि एउटा अभिनय नै थियो
लाग्थ्यो मलाई, तिम्लाई पनि कुरो आधा अधुरो नै प्यारो थियो

मन तिम्रो पनि आवारा नै थियो

तर,
तिम्रो अन्धकारमा अझै जुन उदाउदो रै छ
तिम्रो मनका हिमानीहरु अझै खल खल बग्न लालायित रैछन
म भने औँसी कुरी बस्ने मान्छे
तिम्रो मनको उज्यालो पुर्णिमा
हाम्रो सम्बन्धको गोलो पूर्ण बिराम।

पिलपिले

जुनकिरिले जुन चिन्छ , सुर्य चिन्दैन। उसको लागी सुर्य पनि अर्को चम्किलो चाक हो। पिलपिल गर्न अलि ज्यादै समय लगाउने आफ्नो जस्तै चाक। जुनकिरीले छिनभरमै चमचम गरि भ्याउछ, सुर्यलाई घन्टौ लाग्छ। के जुनकिरीको चाकमा बस्ने चुर्नालाई पनि दिनरातको अनुभूति हुन्छ होला ? धपक्क बल्छ, कर्म गर्यो, झिमिक्क पर्छ, सुत्ने सुरसार गर्यो। अनि गन्छ होला, त्यै पिलपिल उज्यालो र अँध्यारोको शृंखला आफ्ना असंख्य भुजाहरुमा अनि सोच्छ होला यत्रो दिन बित्यो केहि गर्न सकिएन !

un-playing football

My school was atop a hill. ‘A mighty king’ they said- was stationed there, once upon a time. He dug trenches to hide his forces. And then, in the dark of the night, he attacked un-mighty kings, in a show of force.

I never really understood this, but he was mighty I was told. I did not question it.

And this hill was covered with pine trees that reached to scratch the cloudy sky. The ground was covered with Pine leaves. Pine leaves are beautiful. I had never seen leaves like that. But they were leaves alright, my science teacher said. “They are special, they serve a purpose.”

This, I understood. 

It was okay to be a leaf that looked like a needle. In fact, it was special to a leaf that didn’t look like one. My strategy professor would call in competitive advantage, I should ask him sometimes.  

Our school was atop a hill, nestled in a pine forest. The top was leveled because of the boys and the girls who needed a ground to play. The ground was on the edge, therefore the ball would roll down the hill after every powerful kick. Some boys were really good at those- the powerful kicks.

The ball would bounce around and would get stuck in the bushes. Every time this happened we chased it down the slope. 

We slid down the path, dotted with pine trees tall

the same path that the water carved

As it too went down- looking for a ball

We stumbled in rocks, slipped on pine leaves

Faced the trees as we broke our downhill speed.

 

A year or two later, the teachers put up a net around the ground.  The ball stopped rolling down the hills. And then the boys stopped rolling down the hill. Well… the boys kept rolling, just not down the hill.

Then the boys and the girls were really thankful. They could play longer- didn’t have to chase the ball downhill. 

This, I never really understood. What was the point of having a football field on top of a hill if the ball wasn’t to roll off the edge every now and then?  For me, football was the whole; from chasing the jocks to murdering the socks. The bushes and the berries. The trees and the pine cones. Football really was a vertical game.  

Ever since the net came up, my will to play football went down.

Who’s this guy?

 

I am tired
and I am sick of
looking for this man.

My girlfriend looks for him
My boss looks for him
Some of my god damned friends look for him
My mother has been looking for him for
years so many she can’t count it in her hands
Even the government looks for him
The society looks for him !

But, where is this man they keep talking about?
A man just like me.

Sometimes when I am drunk
they say, you can find him only when you’re sober
And when I am sober
they say, you gotta be filthy drunk to see him.

Yesterday,
On my way to being drunk,
when I was half drunk and half sober,
when my head was drunk and the the heart was alive,
I decided to stop looking for this man.

 

 

 

A morning like this

The Pine trees wake up from their standing sleep
They take some time
To take their wet blankets off.

Like stray spaghetti on a restaurant floor,
The roads are dotted with earthworms,
Some dead, some waiting to die,
Some will probably make it back to the muddy sides,
Crows sit on cold steel rails,
they have just taken a bath in the morning dew,
They do not care about the plentiful breakfast of
Worms that is spread out in the pavement,
Yet !

Down below,
In the foothills,
Wheat tips grow more golden than gold
Fresher than the news or donuts,
glisten in the yellow morning sun.

As morning dew seeps in through the shoes and the socks, and your toes-
Into your blood stream you understand
The land that is mushy is the most clean,
Shoes that are muddy are the best looking shoes.

Ugly water tanks,
dull as an concrete electric pole dot the fields,
The Earth is carefully carved
for the rain water to flow into these gold beds
And beyond –
I take my smartphone out to take a picture,
but it’s not difficult to see,
Early mornings are like water,
We have associated water with pipes and collection tanks, but they do not really belong there,
Can I fit the crows and the worms
and the wheat and the pine trees
and the mist and the dew,
And the shy gaurishankar gleaming mildly in the north,
And the super confident yellow morning sun inside a frame?

Nowadays,
I think of Dhulikhel
As I walk beside bagmati,
The trees and the crows and the worms are here too,
If you are lucky you can see a few mountain tops too,
But I shall
Neither take a picture
Nor write a poem,
about a morning like this.