मिलन र बिछोडका सुस्केरा l

1

साइँली,

नौ डाँडा पारी सपनै सपना छ रे 

इन्द्रेणी रंग भर्न पाइन्छ रे
आकाशको तारा झैं झिलिमिली
खुशी नै खुशी छ रे
जाम न साइँली हामी पनि बसम 
तेही डाँडा पारीको चौतारीमा
अनि संगै नाचम्ला सारंगीको भाकामा
तिमी थाके म काँध दिम्ला
म थाके तिमी साथ
जाम है ?

2

अलिकति शब्द म भर्छु

अलिकति आवाज तिमि भर 

अलिकति जीवन संगै जिउँला

अलिकतिको यो जीवनमा l

उड्दै भेट्दै फेरि उड्दै छुट्टिने

यो अचम्मको जीवन न हो

अलिकति मुस्कान म हाँस्छु 

अलिकति खित्का तिमी हाँस

अलिकति आँसु संगै झारौंला

अलिकतिको जीवनमा l

हिमाल पारी तिम्रो गाउँ होला

यो नदि वारीको केहि क्ष्रणको राउटे म बनम्ला

अलिकति साथ म दिन्छु

अलिकति हात तिमी थाम

अलिकति आकाश एउटै हेरौंला

अलिकतिको यो जीवनमा l

आज छुट्टिए के भयो र 

भोलि फेरि संगै बाँचौन्ला नी 

अलिकति आशा तिमि बुन 

अलिकति सपना म बुनम्ला

अलिकति बिछोड तिमि हाँस

अलिकति मिलन म कोरम्ला 

अलिकतिको यो जीवनमा l

अलिकति जीवन संगै बिताम्ला l

3

आज निन्द्रा पर्या छैन l 

शब्द नि फुर्या छैन l
केहि सोच्या नि छैन l
सोच्न सक्या नि छैन l

लाग्छ ठुलो संसारको एउटा सानो कुनामा
म आफुले आफ़ुलाईनै हेरिराछु
छक्क परेर l

न त दिमागमा केहि छ
न नै त मनमा
मात्र पल्लो त्यो घरमा
कुक्कुर भुक्या भुकेइ छ एक्कोहोरो
झ्याल नेरी जुनकिरी किरमिर किरमिर गरेजस्तै 

एउटा स्वाश भित्र तान्यो
अर्को फेर बाहिर
अन्धकार सहरलाई एकटक नियाल्नु परेको शालिक झैं
म अकस्मात लाटो बन्या छु
बोलौं त के बोलौं,
को संग l

अझै निन्द्रा पर्या छैन आज l

4

प्राय जसो म एकटक कम्पुटर इस्क्रिन मैं टोलाऊँछु 

केहि नसोची एकटक 

एउटा तस्बिर 

अनि अर्को हाँसो 

केहि पर्खाई

अनि केहि चोट 

अहिलेको लागि एति नै हो मेरो जिन्दगीको मधुर रोमान्स 

मन भुल्याउने बाटो l

5

म ब्युझनु भन्दा ठिक अघि 
उनले मलाई सोधिन 
"सपना पारीको को यो अर्ध-सत्य राम्रो 
कि सपना वारी को त्यो पूर्ण बास्तविकता ? "

जवाफ दिनै नपाई म ब्युझेछु,
अब खै कुन चैं लाई सपनामा भनुँ
र कुन चैं लाई विपना
दुवै संसार जिउञ्जेल उति नै वास्तविक छन्
मात्र यति हो,
 संसारका धेरै नियमहरु छन्,
र संसारमा सायद भौतिकताको मात्र जित हुन्छ,
सायद हामीलाई यो असत्य सत्य लाग्छ
तर आखिर, के नै फरक पर्छ र,
चेतनशील मनका यी प्रतिबिम्बहरु पनि
कति सत्य छन्, कसलाई नै थाहा छ र !
र खै कुन चैं लाई सपना भन्ने
र कुन चैं लाई बिपना

यति मात्र बुझ
खोलाको बिचमा, किनारमा हैन, मात्र हामी छौँ
मात्र "हामी"
र किनारा-बिहिन यो खोला सत्य-असत्य जे भएनी
मात्र तिमी-र-म को यो समागम सत्य छ
हो मात्र "हामी" सत्य छौँ
र मात्र त्यहि सत्य राम्रो छ

6

निलो आकाश, इन्द्रेणी, अग्ला हिमाल, जंगल, उडिरहेका चरा-चुरुंगी, 

रंगी-विरंगी फुल, अनि सिमसिमे पानि मा भिज्दै हिंडेका बटुवाका अन्जान मुस्कान
अनि अरु धेरै कुरा हरु,
राम्रा देखिन्छन, धेरै नै राम्रा l
मात्र जब तिम्रो ओठमा मुस्कान रसाउँछ l

तिमी हाँसे संसारै राम्रो
रिसाए संसारै उदासिन l

उसको र मेरो अचम्मको सम्बन्ध छ

उसको र मेरो अचम्मको सम्बन्ध छ
फेसबुकमा पोस्ट गर्नका लागी बाहेक, न नै त म उसको पूजा गर्छु, न नै त प्रार्थना ..
उ पनि मलाई न देखे जस्तो गर्छ, चिल्याक्स भएर फ्रेम मै रमाउछ

संसारमा भोकाएका, दुख पाएका कति छन् कति, 
जाडोले कठ्यान्ग्रीएका, गर्मिले पाकेका, तिर्खाएका, छटपटीएका
कति आमा रोएका छन्, अनि कति छोराछोरी
तर बाल मतलब उ एकटक छ, बित्तो न बिग्रदो

संसार भरि का नाना थरि का समाचार सुन्दा देख्दा
उस प्रति को मेरो बेवास्ता ठिकै हो जस्तो लाग्छ,
तर सानो भन्दा सानो पीडा हुँदा नि उसैको नाम लिन्छु,
शायद एक्लो हुँदा म उसै संग बोल्छु,
अनि उसैको आवाज सुटुक्क सुन्छु, आफ्नै अन्तर्मनबाट
''टेन्सन न ले यार, सब ठिक हुन्छ"

म भगवान हुन खोजेका मान्छे लाई देख्छु, गली गली घर घरमा
अनि मान्छे भैसकेका भगवानलाई फ्रेम र मुर्तिमा
तेइ नि रुने मान्छे रोइरा छन्, हास्ने मान्छे हाँस्या-हास्यै
कम्प्लिकेटेड समाजको दुर्दशा देखेर वाक्क लाग्छ
तर उ चिल्याक्स भएर फ्रेम मै रमाउछ
अनि मेरो अन्तर्मनबाट सुटुक्क भन्छ,
"साले टेन्सन न ले न यार, सब ठिक हुन्छ"

अनि म मुसुक्क हाँस्छु
उ पनि मुसुक्क मुस्काउछ साबिक कै पोजमा
न नै त मलाई भगवान बन्नु छ
न नै त उसलाई मान्छे
उसको र मेरो अचम्मको सम्बन्ध छ l

You are an exception

Imperfect was, and is, my kingdom, with memories of broken past,
and fake lights of illusions, that I thought were my stars.

Roads where I walked alone, how they tore me apart,
with disbelief, doubts and grief, that no longer I could trust or walk.

Yet, through the tunnel perhaps, light then seemed somewhere near,
slowly healed by and for a change, an exception surfaced clear.

You are an exception.This is all about you, yes, you.

You are an exception, you bombard the affirmation,

and now, I've begun to see the real inside you
without the veneer of pseudo expressions.

These twists and turns, however, 

still conspire redefining and ruining my kingdom.

Yet, in faith, blind one perhaps, I continue to hail, 'You are an exception'.

Would these bewildering roads end here?
Or somewhere far still lies the world unreal?
For my eyes closed, with the chosen blinkers, 

I know, "You are an exception".

For I've chosen to see the real inside you
without the veneer of pseudo expressions,

or perhaps, with my presumptuous real presence with you,
contriving to not adapt with my layers, 

I would wear these blinkers, and I would walk the road through the tunnel.

But I've now crossed the stars to rename my kingdom, 

to hail you loud, and clear,

'You are an exception'.

'Through the corridor of Dreams'

Scene 1:

Then, she preferred the last row,
uncaring, stone faced; and to let go?
Yeah, it was strange, was it dumb
how our friendship appeared all that numb.
Then, I screamed, shouted at my own soul,
'See, I yelled at you, be NOT so close, to love, your love'

Scene 2:
Dark mystery of someone been killed;
A never ending game of politics,
a corrupt typist; and his wife.
The Savior asked, "where did you choose to hide, and why?"
She happily showed her golden teeth,
and a blank reply.
In a van? He discloses his motive,
to wipe her tears, bring back her life,
Suddenly, the van stops by a sea;
Savior thrown, stabbed by the wife;
a dark mystery leaves behind, of deception.

Scene 3:
Then at the gate, I was informed,
by a close friend in college uniform,
'' HE will be home, today, with bags full of surprise''
How on earth, in disbelief, raced my bike;
A little far, blind; trapped in trance
I heard the shout, someone on my back.
''See there! STOP, it's almost near!''
And, the crash, the sudden blank, Father!

Scene 4:
Deep sleep, undisturbed for hours;
The doorbell rang to break them all;
I rushed in anger and tore apart my door,
I saw Him standing dead and cold.
How I wished he had his stories and reasons
and, why the old guest was long not driven.
I didn't speak; the guest didn't blink
A big pause, pitch silence, and I went back to sleep.
Or let's say, I pretended to, in relief, disbelief and hate.
Chose not to speak, tired, ill, and probably we were long dead.
My Father, yes, he, stayed by my side.
Was I happy ?
Oh, poor, I was swinging up and swinging down as he played,
all those good old poems he would write for me,
my best ever song my mother would sing for me,

And, the End.

Out of the translucent boundaries of dream, as I woke up, wondered
if my stories were real, for a moment, it was all true and near.
Now, should I hate that they never did exist or could they be dear?
A faint reply from within, not so clear,
'I don't know'.

'I don't know, why they've been killed, or deceived

How I wouldn't know, and why ? 

Why would I pretend to have not known the reasons,
and why should I now choose to write?

Why has it never been all real?
Her image, His life, and my love,
and, all the fairy faces that I always see,
'Through the corridor of Dreams', every night.

Nov 6, 2013

Rant

To tell you the truth, I am walking through a path that doesn't feel exciting, and while I know this is temporary, I have begun to question the direction that I am heading to, towards that mirage.

This might very well be the effect of festive season where the bereft presence of not being surrounded by caring parental hands often amplifies to the extent of haunting me with effervescent dream of being pampered by my grandma. Not saying I want to go back, for I have got nowhere to be back. Lucky are those who have got a place called home.

I try undermining bereaved feelings like these usually by focusing on something seemingly important. For now, that has been GRE. I have spent my Dashain learning new vocabulary words, and while most of my friends are busy posting pictures of all kinds everywhere, I am yet struggling with another new word, and ditto with Mathematics. Now there is something apathetic about Mathematics and GRE questions, they are no way empathetic, and no matter how much I spend my time with them, they will always stand stranger. But, I suppose, I'm quite used to it, be it Mathematics or anything or anyone else.

I am, however, no way frustrated or discouraged. I will definitely do what I got to do, for this is something I have committed myself into and there's no way I am getting distracted.

What disturbs me is the unfair rule of nature. This discrimination often validates in the form of undeserving people getting things that I have often rightfully desired to have, take my atrophy cursed upper-limb for example, there's nothing I can do to rectify for the negligence of my biological parents, but even without my fault I would have to carry it for my lifetime while also ensuring that I stand strong in my goal. I will. But I would have appreciated more if the universe had cared to confer me with what I deserved more, rather than imposing its burden on me. Wouldn't it be more meaningful and relevant for someone who believes in the theory of choice to really have a choice in his life? For now, the way I have been tricking myself to conform to this life, it all seems antithetical.

But care less, I am pretty strong, and I have raised myself with great care and motivation - I've been a good father for myself, encouraging myself, admiring for all my successes, mollifying my bereaved soul at times of loneliness and failures, and at times turning stringent to my tangential tendencies. This dual role of imparting and receiving uni-linear stream of care and support makes me tired sometimes, and that pretentious image on the mirror feels idiotic. No matter how contriving I've been in my effort to hide the truth, I have always missed mother, and I have always believed that I deserved to have her to feel proud of me, to be my side to be my strength when I sometime shed tears out of helplessness, and to celebrate my perfect GPA scores. Had she been here, she would perhaps glorified me, exaggerate my diligence, like every other mother would do, and be wary of my time tables, especially, about how careless I have been about eating. Every time I sip in a glass of milk, I wonder, would it taste different to have been served by mom, the way they show in Bollywood movies?.

Now if you are thinking to send me all those text heavy greetings of encouragement and motivation, I don't need that. How do you think I have carried myself all these years? I am motivated enough, or else, how do you think have I come this afar, and why do you think my plans are for.  Except for the one thing that I have always wanted from anyone, to be the one to listen and understand. Rather, I often end up doing that instead with everyone I try getting close to. Be alarmed, I am not complaining, not saying that I am the most unfortunate or the most indigent one. I am very aware of how lucky I have been in the way I have been conferred with this opportunity to study and live in a costly city like Kathmandu. I am cognizant of the fact that people are dying for trivial reasons, for not having food to eat, for not having clothes to wear and I am extremely fortunate. But sometime, being a human, I suppose, I too would love to express and expect nothing in return.

Will keep posted.

Midnight Rumination

We might have lived here for millions of years, walked, ran or jumped in jest, been kings, slaves, crooks or sage, or the lion, bird or a snail, perished or preyed. Yet, all we have now is a remnant, this mere life, and a dream that appears big enough to chase. Enter another, this too might all be a void.

As I disappear every night into the abstract darkness, with futile attempt to understand the answer to the unanswerable, it seems to me that I must have been born a million times - with this consciousness in different identities. Why is it that I'm here again rambling in the incessant orbit of life? Much as absurd it might seem, a distant nonchalant version of me out there in the universe might just be laughing at me for my trivial ambitions.

Yet, do I have a choice?

Daily Notes: 25 Nov 2014

25th of November, Tuesday

I did nothing extraordinary today, except that I cleaned up my room. The chicken-gravy that I had set out to cook didn't turn up as good as expected. I guess it’s true that the best recipe doesn't guarantee the best taste.

I played the same movie thrice only to realize that I felt asleep while the actors were busy playing their part, well, I heard their voice in my dream – I don’t dream less adventurous, except for, my dreams always end abruptly without a conclusion – a reflection of my conscious part.

Well, the day’s still to end, and we are expecting a friend for a dinner tonight.

Take care World.