to conceal the reluctance
i pretend enjoying the moments subsequent
and
architect an impression accordingly
though i know
you hate hypocrisy
(so do i)
when i am natural and spontaneous
you dislike what i do
and
both of us suffer
now
i am afraid of ending up with this role only
in my wish
to see you smile momentarily
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while swinging to and fro
and
traversing a curve of pain and joy
for an age
there i get to feel a fleeting numbness
(every now and then)
as
similar episodes repeat
the worst feelings of paranoia hit
forcing me to believe that
the story would end with an anticlimax
the way i would never cherish
a mural at gairidhara, kathmandu
because
i realise – the sooner the better
now
i’m desperately waiting for
the anticlimax (happening)
and
ultimately
the end of the story
that would never be written
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jasmine smell and dusty rail
bumpy ride with babes on side
no moon day but graced with boon
scorching heat of april noon
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no more game
words are same
present or past
the die is cast!
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I won’t dare to give you any flower
Because
If I give, flowers will be unhappy with me
Because they want to remain intact with the plant
Because plucking is brutal and it hurts them
But
I dared to pluck one in your name
I took its photograph and posted here
To remember later that I did pluck it for you
Though I will never give it to you
Because if I give, I will be cursed
Because the vibrant Rhododendron flower has wrinkled and dried now
And its pain has multiplied
Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I won’t give a hoot
If you call me a pessimist, again
But
I
Now
Don’t expect to see any light
At the end of the tunnel
That has no end
And
That’s you
(As you claim to be)
–¤—¤—¤–
I even don’t care
Whether
This mantra of “carpe diem”
That I’ve feigned to take up
Poses me as an optimist
That
I
Never had been
(According to you)
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Condolences To My Illusion of Revolution
रक्तक्रान्तिको बिगुल फुकिँदा
सहरको स्कुले केटो मलाई
त्यतिबिघ्न मान्छे मर्छन् भन्ने के थाहा ?
“ओयाङ् हाईको गीत” र “आमा” गम्दै
फ्रान्सेली क्रान्ति र माओका कहानी अरूलाई सुनाउने
अनि
वर्गसंघर्ष र आमूल परिवर्तनको गुड्डी हाँक्ने
जुँगाको रेखी अझै नबसिसकेको मलाई
१४ हजार टाउकाको बलिदान
१४ टाउकेका मुखका लागि सीमित हुन्छ भन्ने के थाहा ?
——————
होक्राङमा गुच्चा हार्दा
मैलो भोटोको बाहुलामा सिँगान पुछ्दै
मसँग झगडा गर्ने बेखामान
पढ्न छोडेर हुल्याहा बन्यो,
कहिले मान्छे लुटेर, कहिले कुटेर पटकपटक थुनियो
क्रान्तिकारीहरू काठमाडौं आएपछि ऊ साथ लागेछ
आज ठूलै क्रान्तिकारी मानिएको छ
भोलि मन्त्रीपनि बन्ला ।
मार्क्स॒वादसँगै मीठा कविता र गीता पढ्ने म
सधैँ विद्यार्थी बनेँ, पढिनैरहेँ –
कहिले क्रान्ति बुझ्न शास्त्रका ठेलीहरू पढेँ
कहिले क्रान्तिकारीका खबर जान्न पत्रिका पढेँ ।
उनीहरू सहर पसेर सत्तामा बसेपछि
१४ हजार टाउकाको थाङ्ग्रोमा भ्रान्तिको फर्सी फलाएको देखेर बिरक्तिएछु
र
आज कवि भएको छु
भोलि “प्रतिगामी” ठहरिउँला !
—————————–
आजभोलि व्यापारी र मन्त्रीहरूसँग उठबस गर्ने बेखामान
कार्यकर्ताको लस्करसँगै रवाफसाथ नयाँ गाडीमा हुइँकिन्छ,
बाटामा मलाई देखेर जब ऊ हर्न् बजाउँछ
मैलो सफाटेम्पोबाट झुन्डिँदै भएपनि म हात हल्लाइदिन्छु ।
——————————-
अस्ति भण्डार सफा गर्दा
सिलोटले थिचेर राखेको थोत्रो ट्याङ्काभित्र
हरियो उगाल निस्केको पित्ले लोटामा
बेखामानसँग जितेका “चिम्पुङ्”, “ढिम्पुङ्” र “अमेरिकान्” गुच्चाहरू भेटेँ
माउले खाएका पुराना किताबका खातमा
गोर्कीको आमा र माओको तस्बिर छापेको रातोकिताबपनि भेटेँ
अनि धूलो टक्टक्याउन सफा पत्रिका उज्याउँदा
लम्बोदर कमरेड र उनको नयाँ दरबारअगाडि उभिएको बेखामानको तस्बिर पनि देखेँ ।
—————
भेट हुँदा बेखामान क्रान्तिको सुगा रट्छ
म ङिच्च हाँसिदिन्छु,
केटौले उन्मादमै भएपनि मैले कल्पेको क्रान्ति
बेखामानले खोजेजस्तो आफूले मात्रै जित्न पाउनुपर्ने होक्राङ् थिएन
त्यो क्रान्तिको उपलब्धि लम्बोदर कमरेडको दरबारजस्तो आलिसान थिएन ।
————
भर्खरै भण्डारबाट ती किताबहरू आफ्नै कोठामा ल्याएको छु
गुच्चाहरू टल्काएर सोकेस॒मा थन्काएको छु
बालसखा बेखामान छिमेकमै छ
सायद
लम्बोदर कमरेडसँग मदिरापान गरेर भर्खर घर फर्किएको छ
क्रान्तिचाहिँ नशामै भएपनि उसको जीब्रोमा झुन्डिएको छ ।
———————–
बेसुरा पारामै सही
मलाई भन्न मनलागेको छ — बेखामान जिन्दावाद !
———————–
बेखामानले कसैलाई मारेको थिएन
न उसले कसैलाई मर्न या मार्न उक्साएको थियो
ऊ त
आफू जित्न चाहन्थ्यो — झेल्ली गरेरै भएपनि
र
अहिले खालि क्रान्तिको फल खाँदैछ
उता
क्रान्तिनायक लम्बोदर कमरेड
बेखामानले हम्केको चमरमा रम्दैछन् ।
———-
आऊ साथी, हामी फेरि गुच्चा खेलौँ !
—————
समवेदना,
बेफ्वाँक्मा फालिएका १४ हजार ज्यान र तिनका तुहिएका सपनाहरूप्रति
अनि
मेरो क्रान्तिको मतिभ्रमप्रति पनि !
—-
समवेदना, समवेदना, समवेदना ।
०-०
Read Also:
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दिति: Hidden Treasure
अर्चल१: छट्पटीको संसार
these love animals (no, i am talking about lovebirds. wings of those birds were clipped and they have been made animals since when-i-don’t-know) are weird. what they do irks me a lot. sure, i let you take this for my jealousy or grapes-are-green outlook. see, how liberal i am!
let me come to the point, no more rambling further.
why i distaste love animals then? as one of the popular nepali idioms (कसलाई केको धन्दा, कसलाई केको? घरज्वाईँलाई खानको । = Who has what work, who has what? Home(-based) son-in-law has only eating work 
) says, these animals are concerned only about their partners, meeting or talking about them or at least they try to show (off) that they are what they feign to be.
today the social media sites —facebook and twitter — are abuzz with this-and-that-of-love. oh i see, it’s sent (sic) valentine’s day today. and, it’s obligation for them to talk about love. maybe, the more you talk or make others hear/read what you say/write about love, the more you will be considered a lover. it’s been bounden duty.
people have forgotten the old national anthem — that praised the king, unduly; that i never could memorise, forget about singing — and they are reluctant to learn the new one — at least, i am never going to learn it for sure. nonetheless, with certainty, i can tell you they won’t forget the valentine’s day and to say “i love you” to their “valentines” or wish the valentine day to all random people they meet here and there while idling around or at least write something on facebook or twitter to feign that they have this love fever.
it’s 21st century and the world has become a global village hooked to the stupid thing called internet, right?
co-incidence it was, i also used the word “love” on twitter today. what happened was i was on a dirty safa tempo on the way to my workplace this afternoon, and i saw a bus with some “cheap”love-lit emblazoned on its rear. (it was an old benz-type of bus, by the way)
in some primitive but meaningful english, the bus-love-lit read:
Love is life
Life is damageps 1: i could not take its picture because some vehicles came in between
ps 2: if you are not accustomed to public vehicles in kathmandu and whole nepal, let me tell you: such old-hat literature is but a commonplace.
i was bit scared of the ingrained meaning (that was ominous) the two-liner had. many love me; i love many. so, does it mean that my/our life is or is going to be damaged? phew! if an aye, that’s not fair.
or, is this man-woman lovey-dovey love that it was referring to? in that case, i am safe. 
yahoo! i shall celebrate this evening (for not being cursed with any damage).
i digressed again. back to track, i shall mention that only one person wished me the v day today. a colleague she is. and this was a coincidence. (lots of coincidence today, ah!) i just had got out of my office room (maybe for “insurance piss”), and clad in some pinkish sweater she was coming upstairs — only to encounter me. she was in a jolly good mood and said in her pristine tongue: happy valentine’s day! i wished her back while shaking hands, but still on the move.
i did mention this story to tell you that i could not remain untouched with the v day fever, notwithstanding my lack of concern for it.
oh ya, i was having my khaja at a small eatery by the side of my office this evening when i got to read a quote of idiosyncratic richard dawkins on twitter:
Roses are red, Violets are violet, The heart is simply a pump And love is merely a chemical imbalance in the brain.
sounds funny but what he has said is true. i did retweet dipak bhattara’s post.
i am sure i have some chemical imbalance in the brain today. (this rambling is the biggest proof, for an instance).
So,
if you are my crush or i am yours
avoid me today, or i may propose
(i had posted the two-liner on facebook before i started writing this post, and there are two likes. not bad, i guess 
)
ps 1: i did correct some typos and am updating this post using the newly installed wordpress app for my blackberry
ps 2: i think my crush did read this post or facebook status, and is avoiding me. good for you, baby
Reblogged from My world, my perspective:
अस्ति चैत २४ गते कमिलाहरू फिट्टु भएर नयाँबजारमा बसेका रहेछन् । त्यही बेला कमरेड प्रचण्ड खुलामंचबाट भाषण ठोकेर घर फर्किँदै रहेछन् ।
प्रचण्डको गाडी देख्नासाथ एउटा दादा कमिलालाई सनक चढेछ । "म त्यो हात्तीजस्तो मान्छेलाई गोदिदिन्छु," उसले आफ्नो इच्छा सबैलाई सुनाएछ ।
कमिलाको गोलोमा एउटा कमिला बुझ्झकी रहेछ । उसले प्रचण्डलाई चिनेको रहेछ । सबैलाई सम्झाउँदै उसले भनेछ, "बाबु हो , ती माओवादीका सबभन्दा ठूला नेता हुन् । अहिले एकचोटिलाई छोडिदेऊ । अस्ति गिर्जाबाबुले देशको जिम्मेवारी तिम्रो काँधमा भनेको मान्छे पनि यिनै हुन् । एक चान्स् देऊ ।"
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[caption id="attachment_655" align="alignright" width="121" caption="UCPN (Maoist) Chairman Pushpa Kamal Dahal 'Prachanda'"]
[/caption]
कैलो घुम्रेकेश हावामा लहराउँदै
तलाउमा ढुंगा हान्ने
र
उठेका तरंगहरू हेर्दै
निसंकोच अट्टहास गर्ने
बैँसोन्मत्त यौवनाले
आँखा नचाएर
आमन्त्रण गर्दा अभिसारका लागि
मेरो ढुकढुकी एकदमै बढेको थियो ।
अनुरागको तापले तड्पाएको हुँदो हो
स्थितिको परमार्थता हेक्का रहने कुरै भएन
पानीमा परावर्तित आफ्नै छविमा
अनायास
आफ्नै स्त्रीप्रतिरूप देख्दा
विस्मयको अपूर्व भावतरंगले
जीउ यसरी बिझाइदियो कि
जागृत मोह
र
अप्रकट भोगेच्छा अविलम्ब ओइलाए ।
गुह्य पश्चात्तापको नमिठो चुकचुकसँगै
सुकेको मुख
र
कामेको शरीर लिएर ब्युझिँदा
बल्ल निश्चित भयो
त्यो त निरर्थ सपना रहेछ
मेरो पुरुष अहम्मा चोट पुर्याउने ।
तर
मैले बुझ्न सकेको छैन अझै
म आफूलाई स्त्रीरूपमा देख्न चाहन्नथेँ
या
आफैँलाई भोग गर्न नसकिने जानेर विस्मित थिएँ ।
