for my friend.

Asmi,
You have taught me right.
taught me well.

Life is more,
than living.

That happiness,
is in giving.

That knowledge,
is in sharing.

My friend,
You have taught me well.
You have taught me right.

BE A MAN!!!

...I ask him,
"How difficult is it to be a Man?"
in this society,
in this time.
he looks surprised,
unprepared.
I tell him,
"No, really?"
I am serious.
I wanna know.
is it difficult for you ?
to fit in the box
as it is for me...

To the soldier.

In a far-far land

of sand and sun

amidst the fired bullets

and falling bombs;

you tremble.

Not of fear

But the cold

That runs through your spine

turning once warm eyes

into icy cold.

And it can’t hold.

the humanity:

that writhes in you

breathes

it’s last.

you drift to abyss.

embracing

death and dying

mixing

blood and sweat

burying

love and hate.

and when all cries and noises

turn into a dreadful silence!

You,

A winner; surrenders!

dripping in others blood

trying to crawl away

from an oblivion.

at that moment,

As you reach for your scruples    

in that far-far land

of sun and the sand,

here

I twist and turn

To fit into the jigsaw puzzle

Of your battered confusion.

Where I belong?

One fine afternoon, over the tea sips, my friend Sunib declared us as a 'victimized generation'. "We fit nowhere," he sighed. I couldn't have agreed more.

Born in an isolated village called Rukum, brought up in Kathmandu - the capital city of Nepal; If not me who could have understood the feelings of 'not belonging'?

In my village, I was the first girl to go to school. When Maoist Revolution began I also became the first one to head for Kathmandu to continue my education. However, in Kathmandu, I became as helpless as a lost puppy. I couldn't understand the language, culture nor city life. No matter how much I tried to adjust, it just didn't feel like 'home'. They also saw the differences. I always became the 'village girl' – an outsider.

But, after a decade when I was finally able to visit my birthplace, I was treated more like a guest. I had forgotten most of my ethnic language, had no idea about the different beliefs and rituals. I felt like an outsider there as well.

I feel like I am standing on a junction: there is a nostalgic road to Rukum, comfort zone in Kathmandu and the road to Western World. I get scared and confused. But, granny's distant voice calls, 'I am saving your roots. Come back when you have explored the world to your heart's content.'  I embrace her voice.

[NOTE: it was written for a class assignment during my journalism Diploma in ACJ, Chennai in 2011]

not a home.

always,

always there was something

wrong.

something out of place

something unfitting

something unnatural.

the hugs were too tight

the kisses were not right

the smiles never reached the eyes

and

I was left.

always.

always to wonder

why? why?

then,

one day,

after a very long time

I checked my scars,

my bruises

my bitterness.

that were inflicted by him.

inflicted by me.

and, I understood.

whenever he opened his mouth

it was not the heart

but the brain.

that spoke the words.

the words.

that I heard with the heart.

He said what I wanted to hear.

I heard

what I wanted to hear.

I heard

what he wanted me to hear.

But, it was not his fault,

nor mine.

nor time.

he was 'the type' of a man

who saw the mirror in me.

I was not the mirror.

nor the door,

nor The Answer.

but, he was in search

for The Answer.

and,

I was in search of a place to call home

he was not my home.


[P.S this poem is highly influenced and inspired by Sarah Kay's "The Type".]

IN THE MEMORY OF YOU.

~~~ ~~~

    ~~~  

Let me stay in denial
For a little longer
Let me not say goodbye
Yet.
Let me hope
To hear you say
'K chha moti?'
On the other side of the phone.
Let me hope.
a little longer!!!

~~~ ~~~

    ~~~

The saddest part of the happier dream is that when you wake up, the reality becomes crueller. Dreams have a way of sowing desires and hopes in us. In this process the reality becomes a denial.

Denial is hard to live with.

And yet, dreams are the only link through which I can see myself connecting with you.

As, you left. So suddenly.

I felt cheated. I felt wronged. And everything felt unfair.

And I was angry, so angry, at everything, even at you.

*****

First time I saw you, you were just across the river, standing. I was trying to cross it, the more I tried the muddier and wilder the river became. I could not cross the river. You disappeared.

I woke up, I cried and I cursed at you for leaving so soon.

In another dream, we were in collage. I was sitting on the bench, reading something. You passed by with one girl. You had put your right hand on her shoulder, holding her and walking. You saw me, you smiled and winked with an expression that was closer to bragging about the beautiful companion.

I couldn't help wondering 'why?' when I woke up. And tears followed.

In other random dreams, I was in some sort of gathering. There were some of our common friends. I don't know why but I suddenly turned back and saw you. From crowd you were walking towards me, smiling. I was shocked and could do nothing but stare at you. Closer you came blurrier you became as my eyes were filling with tears.

'Sorry moti, it was just a joke!' you whispered, 'I am alive'.

I was so angry at you I started hitting you while happy tears fell freely.

I woke up sobbing, loudly. But, I was happy until the reality hit me. How much I wished that everything was just a joke as you had said.

Next time I saw you, you were waiting for me. I came out of my class and you came running. Linked your hand with me and we started walking side by side. I don't remember where we were heading and what you were saying. But, I was happy.

I woke up wishing it all to be true. My happiness of the dream didn't last long.

Today, again, I saw you. You were saying, it was a joke, again. But, this time, it was a joke made by your friend. I was so angry at her for playing such a heartless prank. But, everything was forgotten as I was happy to see you and to know that it had all been just a joke.

I woke up with the hope and a desire for this dream to be my reality.

***** 

These constant dreams I am having makes me realize that I am a weak person. It is hard for me to accept the reality and this keeps me in denial. I am finding reasons to cling on to you. Every time, like in my dreams, I will find another person to blame, another reason to deny, another reason to be happy even if it's only in dreams.

As per the five phases of grief, the acceptance seems to be very far. 'Let go' our friends keep on telling me. And, to tell the truth I am a selfish person. I do want to let go. But how? How do you do that when you are scared. 

And, I am very scared. Of what, is the question I ask, again and again. There is no answer that is convincing or satisfactory enough. It seems, until I find the answer, I think I will be in denial. But, how long? I ask myself.

My mind goes blank, heart feels empty and the fear slowly creeps inside me.

I give into fear.

Denial becomes my refuge.

And, Reality becomes further...cruller and cruller. 

fluttering tears.

"Ahh... this is the feeling of falling in love"

a thought came,
and my heart ached.


the happiness,
could only be expressed in tears.