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Poems: Yashodhara & Kids and the Golden Sun

Mahesh Paudyal Sunday, Mar 05, 2017 805 reads

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Yashodhara

Yashodhara!
displaying silent smiles
with tempting youth mercilessly smothered among ribs
and eyes poked by tears frozen like pieces of glass,
is no less than nirvana.

There are some who silently wipe the mantelpiece
and tend to the joint transgression
bequeathed by the absconding lover,
fetch grace on bamboo baskets before daybreak from the tap,
bedeck their future in girdle clothes
and fill joy in others’ old-age cup
transforming herself into beads of perspiration.
Only then can anyone
soar far away, beyond the horizons
reach far off in the depth of the woods
dive deep into oceans
to seek panacea to life's sorrows.

One’s capacity
to hold the heart
when besieged by a sobbing gush
or to hold tears
when in torrent they jut out
is nirvana too.

Yashodhara!
The reality you endured through
is yet another Tripitak.

Allow me to erect
a temple of yours
with bricks of reverence
on my heart’s incredible slopes
though invisible they are!


Kids and the Golden Sun

In the west,

the kids, with their tender fingers
are trying to hold the golden sun
back from slipping off the Kangchenjunga!
They know—
after the sun sets
and pitch darkness spills all over
their sport can come to a stop
on the banyan-peepal mound!

Father went out, many a time
beyond the mighty Kangchenjunga
to get the slipped-off sun back;
many a time, Mother lighted the Sapura wicks
to shoo away the incoming darkness
but then, Father always returned
with a heart filled with lamentations
and Mother always returned
with a handful of darkness in her palms.

The kids know—
it’s quite a task to stand on the ocean water
and hold back the slipping sun
yet, they are bound to finish their game today itself
on the banyan-peepal mound
for, if the times slips away
it will return only as a cast-off skin.

The sun will rise again tomorrow, granted—
and there shall be light again
but, tomorrow, on the banyan-peepal mound
they won’t be inside the game
or the game won’t be inside them.
The game that is to be played now
should be accomplished today.
After the golden sun sets
and darkness comes darting
time shall return on the banyan-peepal mound
in the guise of a strange hawk
and carry the kids away
to the world of realities!

In the west,
the kids, with their tender fingers
are trying to hold the golden sun
back from slipping off the Kangchenjunga!

 

Mahesh Paudyal is a lecturer at Tribhuvan University. 

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