Picks of the Pack

Photo by: Kshitiz Shrestha

2072 has not been very kind, but perhaps joy comes in little bundles. Joy gets handed to you at the end of your workshop. Joy looks like a stack of paper etched with raw and powerful verses talking about how your heart feels sitting in the last row of your class or how a football would feel being kicked around in dirt. Joy is being able to successfully conduct a poetry workshop in a distant city amid a looming political crisis. Let me give you a sneak-peak into what the participants were writing about-

Suresh Pariyar writes about the last row of seats in his classroom where his heart behaves like a hydrogen balloon-

hydrogen gasले भरिएको Balloon बाँधिएर राखिएझैँ
chairमा बसेपनि उडीराखे, दशैंको चङ्गाको  झलझल झुल्को सँगै “

Abhishek Lamichanne writes about his life as a student,he borrows the starting line from swasthani katha –

कुमारजी आज्ञा गर्नुहुन्छ – हे अगस्त्य मुनि
studentको जुनी
जति पढे नि नहुनी
जति खेर पनि exam हुनी
result आउँदा आफू  एक्लै रुनी
घरमा parents सँग घमासान युद्ध हुनी
के हो यस्तो कुन्नी ?

Asim Gyawali writes about her anticipation for a new year, before it turned around and caused immense sadness-

रङ्गमंचको पर्दा अगाडी, चन्चल मन लिएर
पर्दा खुल्ने प्रतिक्षामा बस्ने दर्शकझैँ
म पनि नयाँ वर्षको प्रतिक्षामा बसेँ सोच्दै,
नयाँ  वर्ष त चमेलीको फूल जस्तो वासना लिएर आउँला
चराको चिरबिर झैँ, त्यसमा पनि कोइलीको कुहु कुहु
सुरिलो स्वर लिएर आउँला
सोँचे यसपालि त बिगत जस्तो नियति बोकेर होइन
तिम्रो नयाँ दिन
प्रत्येक बिहान झुल्किने सुनौलो उषाका किरण बोकेर उदाउने छ
तर अफसोश,
तिमी त आउँदाआउँदै बैशाख १२ बनेर भयानकतामा बस्यौं
धरहरामा बस्यौ, गल्ली चोकमा बस्यौँ

Bhawana Aryal writes about Black marketing in her poem titled भारत: नाम मात्रको छिमेकी from the perspective of a Cooking Gas Cylinder

कति चाडै म त १४००बाट ६०००मा पुगेछु
ठागुवा मान्छेको घरमा लुकाईमा परेछु
कुहिएको बोरामा आलु सडेझैँ एउटै कोठा सडेछु
केटाकेटि माटोमा लडिबुडी खेले झैँ म यताउति लडेछु

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Photo by: Kshitiz Shrestha

Bibechana Sharma brilliantly shares how the football feels-

एउटा कुखुराको पछाडी
दर्जनौ स्याल भागेजस्तै भयो…
अनगिन्ती लात पश्चात जब
जब मलाई जाली भएको कोठामा जाकियो तब
तब घाउमा मेरो लगाउन मलमपट्टि आएन कोहि

Anu Lamsal writes in her poem titled- बोक्सी दहन, the poem starts in nepali and ends in nepali but has english lines in between,

The shaman trembles
bells clinking on his waist
almost a background music to his chantings
“WITCH” he screams pointing
at a white draped figure
A hushed silence prevails
before a cacophony fills the air

From the perspective of a winter cap that gets yanked from her head during summer Tenzing Choedon writes in her poem titled ‘Betrayal’

When winter was ruling the world
you were in need of me
So I came in like a shield
to control the ruthless soul
I was there, protecting your head
giving you so much warmth
my life enslaved to you.

 

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