नेपाली कविता – खड़ेरी

पसीनाहरू दिनभर काम गर्न आउँछन्‌
माटोसित खेलेर फर्कन्छन्‌।
पसीना माटोजस्तो गन्हाउँछ
माटो पसीनाजस्तो गन्हाउँछ

त्यो गन्धमा बॉंच्छ
बस्तीको भोक।
भोकहरू गीत गाउँछन्‌
हो हो माले हो हो -हरूको
स्मारकपत्र हातमा बोकेर।

हरेक शताब्दीले माटो दिएर पालेका भोकहरूले लेखेर पठाएको
सहुलियतहरूका अपीलपत्रको आँगनमा बसेर
आउने भोटकै समीक्षा गर्दैबस्छन्‌
नीति निर्माता मन्त्रीहरू।

खेत र ग्रामपञ्चायत
सँगै बसेको
ग्रामसंसदबाट
न्यायपालिकाको मृत्युको खबर ढुक्कैले सुनाउँछन्‌ मण्डल बाजे।

पसीनाहरूलाई पनि भोक लाग्छ
भोक लागेको देखाउँदैनन्‌ तिनीहरू।

ठण्डा महीनाको छुट्टी बिताउन आएका
शहरे पढ़न्ते छोराहरूलाई
अनौं थमाएर सामुहिक स्वरमा भन्छन्‌ पसीनाहरू-
“…जोत्नू अब तिमीहरू आफै तिमेरका अक्षरहरू…”

खेतको धानबाली अनि उनीहरूको होमवर्क
दुवैले
टाउकोभरि उठाएका छन्‌
ऋण र दायित्वको एक थाक नयॉं संस्करण।

सरकार भत्किँदै बनिएको कति भयो
खेत जोत्ने हलो फेरिएन
न फेरियो खेत भिजेको हेर्ने सपना झुण्ड्याएर
आँखामा नै चर्किएको बूढ़ाबाको मोटो चश्मा।

हेर्नू,
यसपालिको भोट पनि खड़ेरीले नै जित्यो।

नेपाली कविता – हिउँको तन्ना भित्र

सफा हिउँको तन्ना भित्र
म भित्रको झन् सफा मेरो मन
पग्लिरहेछ कसैको आगमनमा
हिउँ पग्ले झैं
कल्पनामा त्यो हिउँ
तन्ना बन्न सक्छ
फूल बन्न सक्छ
ऐना बन्न सक्छ
फेरी एकै छिन पछि
पग्लेर पानी हुन सक्छ
फूल जस्तो ओइलेर
भूईंमा झर्न सक्छ
ऐना जस्तै फुटेर
चकनाचर हुनसक्छ ।

मेरो मन
हिउँ जस्तो सफा छ
हिउँ जस्तै पग्लिन सक्छ
पग्लेर बहन सक्छ
तर पानी भएर होइन
माया भएर छताछुल्ल
यत्र तत्र सर्वत्र फैलिन सक्छ
कहिले काहीं हिउँको तन्ना भित्र मेरो मन
हिउँजस्तै जमेर साह्रो हुन सक्छ
ढुंगा जस्तै कठोर हुन सक्छ
मायामा ठेस लागे
ऐना झैं चरक्क चर्कन सक्छ
मायामा खडेरी परे
फूल झैं ओइलीन सक्छ ।

आफ्नो पनमा बादल लागे
टपक्क एक थोपा आँशु बनेर
सुटुक्क एक्लै बर्सिन सक्छ
हिउँको तन्नामा लम्पसार
म भित्रको मेरो मन
सबथोक झेलेर पनि
फेरी हिउँ जस्तै सफा हुन सक्छ
मधुर मुस्कान छर्न सक्छ ।

नेपाली कविता – सपनीहरुमा

सधैं–सधैं मेरो सपनारुपि रंगमञ्चमा
असंख्य नायकरुपि पुरुषहरु मेरो अगाडि आउँछन्
र,मलाई सम्पूर्ण रुपमा नङ्ग्याउँदै
मेरो हिउँजस्तो कोमल तन
अनि निश्चल आकाश रुपि मनमा
पाशविक कामुक आँखाहरुले पोली पोली
कालकाला डामहरु बनाउँछन्
मेरो जीवनको सहारा नजीक आई
मेरै यात्राको किनारा खोस्छन् ।

सधैं–सधैंका सपनारुपि रंगमञ्चमा
तिनै असंख्य नायकरुपि पुरुषहरु मेरो अगाडि आएर
स्वाभीमानी वीर योद्धाहरु देखाउँदै
कैयौं कर्तुतहरुले गाँजिएको
आफ्नै पुरुषार्थलाई देखाउँदै
पागल सरी
आकाश तिर हेर्दै, टोलाउँदै
अनि एक्कासी छाती पिट्दै
कपाल लुछ्दै मसँग आफ्नो हराएको
जवानी माग्न थाल्छन्
अलिकति बाँकी रहेको पुरुषार्थलाई धिक्कार्दै
आमाको छातीमा पछारी पछारी
चुलिएको जवानी
आमाकै सामुन्ने
छताछुल्ल पार्दै पोखिदिन्छन्

सधैं–सधैंका सपनारुपि रंगमञ्चहरुमा
असंख्य नायकरुपि पुरुषहरु मेरो अगाडि आएर
महापुरुषको बिल्ला भिरी
नैतिकतालाई धरौटी राख्दै
कैयौं वर्तमानको बलत्कारी बन्दै
युद्धमा पराजित भएको वृद्ध सिपाही सरी
आफ्नै जीर्ण तन सामु
विदीर्ण मन लिएर
आफ्नै आँसुको सागरमा
डुबाएर मार्न पुग्छन् आफैलाई

मेरो मध्यरातका सपनारुपि रंगमञ्चमा
आखिर तिनै असंख्य नायकरुपि पुरुषहरु
बेहोसीमा नसासँगै
एकोहोरो दौडिरहन्छन्
दौडिरहन्छन् ।
मेरो सपनारुपि रंगमञ्चमा
असंख्य तिनै नायकरुपि पुरुषहरु
मात्र मेरो खोजिमा
मात्र मेरो खोजिमा ।

English Poem – To Isadore – Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
19 January 1809 – 7 October 1849
Boston

I. Beneath the vine-clad eaves,
Whose shadows fall before
Thy lowly cottage door–
Under the lilac’s tremulous leaves–
Within thy snowy clasped hand
The purple flowers it bore.
Last eve in dreams, I saw thee stand,
Like queenly nymph from Fairy-land–
Enchantress of the flowery wand,
Most beauteous Isadore!

II. And when I bade the dream
Upon thy spirit flee,
Thy violet eyes to me
Upturned, did overflowing seem
With the deep, untold delight
Of Love’s serenity;
Thy classic brow, like lilies white
And pale as the Imperial Night
Upon her throne, with stars bedight,
Enthralled my soul to thee!

III. Ah! ever I behold
Thy dreamy, passionate eyes,
Blue as the languid skies
Hung with the sunset’s fringe of gold;
Now strangely clear thine image grows,
And olden memories
Are startled from their long repose
Like shadows on the silent snows
When suddenly the night-wind blows
Where quiet moonlight lies.

IV. Like music heard in dreams,
Like strains of harps unknown,
Of birds for ever flown,–
Audible as the voice of streams
That murmur in some leafy dell,
I hear thy gentlest tone,
And Silence cometh with her spell
Like that which on my tongue doth dwell,
When tremulous in dreams I tell
My love to thee alone!

V. In every valley heard,
Floating from tree to tree,
Less beautiful to me,
The music of the radiant bird,
Than artless accents such as thine
Whose echoes never flee!
Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine:–
For uttered in thy tones benign
(Enchantress!) this rude name of mine
Doth seem a melody!

नेपाली कविता – काठे संवेदना

तिम्रो संवेदनामा काठ पस्दै गइरहेछ।

अब कुनै पनि शरीरबाट उड़ेर जानेछ लाजको सह
मरूभूमि मात्र हुनेछ शरीरको बालुवा।
तिर्खा-तिर्खा-तिर्खा
तृप्तिको हाहाकारमा बॉंच्ने छ संवेदना।

मृत्युको त्यो कालो भयले खोल्न सक्दैन
आँसुको ताला
प्रेमको त्यो कोमलता
सुक्नेछ
फूलमा।

त्यसपछि कहिल्यै पुनरावृत हुनेछैन सृष्टिको वचन।

म तिम्रो खस्रो ओंठ छोएर भन्नसक्छु
त्यसलाई कोमलताको मातको सुगन्ध आउँदैन।

कति पातलो छ तिम्रो मनको पाप्रा
जहॉं आमाको मृत्युको एक थोपा शोक अड़िन सक्तैन।

तिम्रो आँखाको सुरूङबाट छिर्ने
संसारको वासनाको त्यो सौन्दर्य
कुनै कम्पनीको ब्राण्ड जस्तो टॉंसिएको छ
शहरमा उभिने होर्डिङहरूमा।

त्यो यान्त्रिक यौनको गर्मीमा
भटाभट मर्दैछ अनुभूति।

तिमी नै भन
च्याटिङमा आउने
टुक्रिएका अक्षरहरू
तिम्रा स्वास्नीको ठूल्ठूलो सासभन्दा अर्थपूर्ण छ?

तिम्रो संवेदनामा काठ पस्दै गइरहेछ।

English Poem – Against Wrongs Done Me – Terry Dawson

Against Wrongs Done Me
Against wrongs done me
My spirit raged
Hatred-blinded, I cannot see
That lust for vengeance
Keeps my spirit caged.

Great misfortune I wish upon my foe.
In imaginings I see
Him downfallen; his life blood aflow,
His discomforts all serve
To unleash my spiteful glee

All-demanding becomes my ire,
Unstinting do I spend
To fuel the all-consuming fire,
That feeds the demon, Wroth
That plain forbids an end.

Now unfurls a new design,
Unscripted lines are penned,
Up-ending all cruel schemes of mine –
Death stalks my halls; I fear
For my untimely end.

Spared from death, I behold
Life in different light,
New horizons promise gifts untold;
Sunshine pours like healing balm into
My long, hate-filled dark night.

My heart forgives all, of him
Who earned my enmity
And as by a whim
His dark, all-overshadowing cloud
Is gone and I am free!

Glad, unbound, my soul exalts,
My spirit learns to sing
Unencumbered by past faults,
Constrained no more by baleful hate
the crippled bird takes wing!

नेपाली कविता – मैले चढ्नु छ एउटा अजङ्गको पहाड

विस्तारै विस्तारै अँध्यारो अत्याचारवाट
उज्यालो न्यायतिर वामे सर्दै गरेको
शरणार्थी समयलाई
विषाक्त विचारको कोर्राले हिर्काउँदै
बेईमान परिवेशको धुमिल छाँयामा
किशोर उज्यालोको हत्या गर्नेहरुसंग
म विजयको वाँसुरी वजाउन सक्तिन

रित्तोपेट,स्वतन्त्रताका फुलहरु
मनभरि फुलाउदै
जीवनको जोड घटाउ वास्तै नगरि
फाटेको कछाडमा
सडक थर्काएर
बालेको यो आगोले
जबसम्म,रोल्पा र रुकुम जलाएर
काठमाण्डौलाई न्यानो दिईरहन्छ
म कसरी मेरो यात्रामा
पुर्णविराम लगाउन सक्तछु ?
सकिदैन, दरिद्र मानसिकताको भारि वोकेर
क्लियुगका कुम्भकर्णहरुसंग
काँधथापेर नयाँ युगको जग वसाल्न
त्यसैले त,
अब एक्लै गर्नु छ यात्रा
हरेक पाईलाहरुवाट नयाँ डोवहरु बनाउदै
मैले चढ्नु छ एउटा अजंगको पहाड

वासिङ्गटन र दिल्लीको गीतमा नाँचेर
वसन्त क्रान्तिको ताल नै भुल्ने
सत्ताको ललिपपमा ¥याल चुहाउदै
महान् यात्राको गन्तव्य नै तुहाउने
सुद आवरणका
अंगारे मनहरु छिचोल्दै
वेहोस युगलाई व्युताएर
मैले वाल्नु छ ,
डोल्पा र हुम्लालाई न्यानो हुनेगरि
फेरि अर्को क्रान्तिको आगो

वुद्ध आँखाहरुमा
त्रासदिको चश्मा लगाएर
समयका अक्टोपस हातहरुले
ज्तिसुकै,
किशोर युगको चित्र कोरेपनि
म रङ्ग पोत्न सक्तिन
दुईपाईला अगाडि वढ्दैमा
अहमताको फुल सिउरिएर
गन्तव्य भेटेको उत्सव मनाउने सुकिला निरोहरुसंग
हजार जँघार तरेर पनि
यात्रा आरम्भको महसुस नगर्ने
मेरो सोचाईसंग समिकरण हुन सक्दैन
विध्वँश र विद्रोहको बैरागी वादलले
सारा धर्ति अँध्यारो पार्दा पनि
बुढानिलकण्ठको मुर्ति झै
ट्वालट्वाल्ति हेर्ने
बगरे मनहरुमा
नयाँ युगको नयाँ दीप सल्काउदै
आँखा अगाडि लम्पसार सुतेको
निलो बाटो काटेर
मैले चढ्नु छ अजंगको पहाड

होसियार ,
छद्मभेषी तिम्रो परिवर्तनले
मेरा पाईलाहरु तान्न नखोज
विरक्त समयलाई
उर्जा दिने तिम्रो निजी क्रन्दन
भो, मलाई चाहिदैन
आसुँले भरिएको पोखरीमा
कमलका दीयोहरु वोकेर हिडिसके
म चढ्नलाई एउटा अजंगको पहाड ।

नेपाली कविता – न्युटनजीको स्याऊ

कुनै सेता छन् , कुनै निला छन्
कुनै साह्रा छन् , कुनै गिला छन्
कुनै होचा छन् , कुनै अग्ला छन्
कुनै बाङ्गा छन् , कुनै सग्ला छन्
कुनै महल छन् , कुनै दुला छन्
कुनै बलिया छन् , कुनै लुला छन्
जस्ता भएपनि खोल्नेका लागि
आफ्ना कलेज साह्रै ठुला छन्
कतिको
गुणस्तर हेर्दै काम्ने छ
कतिको निती छात्रवृतिले डाम्ने छ
आखिरी काम्नेको पनि, डाम्नेको पनि
अन्तिम लक्ष्य
हाम्रै बाबुको खल्ती छाम्ने छ ।

पढाउँछौँ भन्नेको सग्लो छत हुँदैन
सग्लो छत हुनेको पढाउने लत हुँदैन
दुवै दावी गर्नेको
शिक्षा परिषदमा खत हुँदैन
दशौँ वर्षपछिको प्रलोभनमा सेकाउँछन् कसैले
भर्ना नै नगरी खातामा नाम लेखाउँछन् कसैले
कलेजको बिलले ढाड भाँचेर
बुवा कुप्रो पर्नुहुन्छ
मलाई देख्नेबित्तिकै आमा
तर्सेर थुप्रो पर्नुहुन्छ
तेलको भाउ बढ्दा कलेज
मासिक शुल्क बढाउँछ
अरूबेला भ्याकेसन भ्याकेसन भनेर
जाँचको मुखमा
आउट ड्रेसमा एक्स्ट्रा क्लास पढाउँछ ।

मास्टरको भित्र छिर्ने बेला
विद्यार्थीको निस्कने बेला हुन्छ
बाहिर हेर्दा तातो घाममा
सानोतिनो मेला हुन्छ
घरभित्र छोरालाई
पढिस् भन्दा पढेँ भन्छ
रिजल्ट खोइ भनी सोध्दा
भोलि भोलि भनिर’न्छ
क्याम्पस त्यस्ता, पढ्ने यस्ता, पढ्ने किताब हजार पेजको
यहि तालले कसले कहिले विकास गर्ने हाम्रो देशको
कहाँ मतलब हुन्छ हजूर ठाउँमा बस्ने नामीलाई
न्युटनजीले स्याऊ खाएनन् दु:ख दिए हामीलाई ।।।

नेपाली कविता – गालीको पहाड

त्यसलाई समात
पछार
जमिनमा झार
दाँत छन् भने दाँत उखेल
कपाल छन् भने कपाल उखेल
हात छन् भने हात भाँच
खुट्टा छन् भने खुट्टा भाँच
ढाडमा टेक/टाउकोमा हान
बल गरेर टुप्पीमा तान,
यो नजाती
यो मख्खिचुस
यो विश्वासघाती
यो जासुस,
अस्ति
हिजो आउँछु भन्यो
हिजो
आज आउँछु भन्यो
आज-
भोलि आउँछु भन्छ
आइहाले पनि
नागढुंगामा उक्लिएको
भारी ट्रकले जस्तै कन्छ ।

सरम छैन
लाज छैन
यसको कुनै कामकाज छैन,
साम्राज्यवादी यो
विस्तारवादी यो
‘र’को एजेन्ट
विश्वासघाती यो,
मान्छे भेला गर्छ
र भाषण छाँट्छ
पहिले आउँछु भन्छ
र पछि ढाँट्छ ।

ढुंगाले हान
जुत्ताले हान
झटारो, गुलेली, मुक्काले हान
त्यसको बिहे देखाई देऊ
डर देखाइदेऊ
कानमा उचालेर मामाघर देखाइदेऊ
चिच्याओस्
कराओस्
बरु सातो हराओस्,
उठ्-बस गराऊ
सयपल्ट गन
मुट्ठी कसेर सबले भन-
‘साला लोडसेडिङ्’ ।

English Poem – I’ve Met a Girl – Terry Dawson

I’ve met a girl
Louise her name.
Within I feel new strength unfurl
And I’m no more the same.

Strange to myself, now am I
Renewed in mind and heart,
My load lighter than before, and why? –
Her magic weaves its art.

Recipient me
Of friendship’s gift
Strength-giver she
Sure, true and swift
As ever friend could be.

By her, unaware, is it arranged
That life comes anew into a soul,
And so is lonesomeness estranged;
A life reacquainted with it’s goal.

नेपाली कविता – नाटक, रंगमंच र प्रचन्ड़हरु

धेरै जीवन फेर्यो
रङ्गहरुले
राता नीला हरिया

सेता काला पहेँला
निरन्तर उत्साहित भईरहे
सेलोफेनहरु स्पटलाईटमा
उज्याला क्षणहरु कति भए
कति क्षणहरु अँध्यारोमा डुबे
रंङ्गमाचको त्यो कुना
अझै जीवन्त छ
प्रचण्डको सास जस्तै

जुगुप्साहरुलाई उभ्याएर
चौखुडामा
नाटकलाई जीवनमा बुन्दै
जीवनलाई नाटकमा उन्दै
कति समाप्त भए
अभिनयका स्रेस्ताहरु
कति च्यातिए नाटकका पन्नाहरु
परिष्कारको क्रान्तिमा
कति निर्देशन भए
नवरसका अभिव्याजन
मृत्यूमा हत्यामा बिध्वँशमा

रचना र सँरचनाहरु
घटन र विघटनहरु
लहर जस्तै
उडिरहेको बादल जस्तै
दृश्यमा
कङ्कालको मुख माथी
ख्वापा लाएर
कति पटाक्षेप भए
कति उघ्रिएर

तथापी
हरेक समाप्तीमा
उभिन्छन्
पर्दा अगाडि पंक्तिबद्ध
अभिवादनरत्
यावत् पात्रहरु
मदन मालती
कृष्णमोहन कृष्णसेन
जीवन्त हुन्छन्
र हुन्छन्
प्रचण्ड तालिका ध्वनीहरु

प्रचण्ड हो कि नाटक हो
नाटक हो कि प्रचण्ड हो
छुट्याउनै नमिल्ने गरी
रंगमंचमा टाँसिएका
जवानीहरु
उप्काउन प्रयाशरत्
बूढो प्रचण्ड
कमलादीको प्रज्ञा परिसरमा

हो प्रचण्ड मल्ल
कयौं पटक रोएको छ
ध्वस्त नाटक छ
रक्सीमा डुबेर
कयौं पटक रोएको छ
सफल नाटक पछि
खुसीको आँसुमा डुबेर

निरन्तर
इतिहाससँगै लिप्त
प्रचण्ड र उर्फ प्रचण्डहरु
सास्वत छन्
रंगमंचहरुमा
डबलीहरुमा
नाटकहरुमा
यथार्थहरुमा
आत्मसात गरेर एउटै अभिष्ट
सुन्दर सृजनाको
सुन्दर परिवर्तनको
मान्छेलाई मान्छे बनाउने युद्धको

फेरि पनि
पटाक्षेप भएको छ
नाट्शालामा
भयावह शिशिरको रात
भावबिभोर छन्
खुसीमा अनुदित सन्नाटाहरु
रंङ्ग र प्रकाशको सँयोजनमा
समाधिस्त छ प्रचण्ड
र हरियो खोजिरहेका आँखाहरु
प्रतिक्षारत् टोल्हाईरहेछन्
के सँधै झैं
अभिवादनार्थ
जीवन्त उभ्याउन सक्लान्
प्रचण्डले
नाटकका
यावत् मृत पात्रहरुलाई

कुन भेषमा
कुन पात्रसंग
उभिनेछ
प्रचण्ड आफै
पंक्तिबद्ध

दृश्यमा
लासमाथि चढाईएका
फूलहरु उडिरहेछन्
प्रतिध्वनित् भईरहेछन्
सहादत चित्कारहरुको कोलाज
कम्तीमा
संकल्पहरु जिउनु पर्छ
कम्तीमा
चोटहरु पुरिनु पर्छ

नाटक छ
रंङ्गमाच छ
र छन् प्रचण्डहरु
रक्सी छ
षडयन्त्र छ
र छन् खुसीका आँसुहरु
हेरिरहेछन् दर्शकहरु
प्रचण्ड अब कहाँ डुब्छ

खुसीको आँसुमैं डुबोस्
यावत् प्रचण्डहरु
कामना एउटै बाँकी छ

नेपाली कविता – व्यवहार – लोग्ने / स्वास्नी

उ भट्टिमा ढाडिएर, सडिएर, गन्हाएर
घरमा पुगेको हुन्छ
स्वास्नी उस्को प्रतिक्षामा ओईलाएर, सेलाएर
भोक र शोकले निदाएकि हुन्छे
खै ! उनलाई के बाध्यता छ
उसको लासको दाश भएर मरिमेट्नुमा ।

न माया पाउन सकेकि छ पत्नित्वको
न छाँया पाउन सकेकि छ संरक्षणको
रातो दिनको उसको धूत् नशामा
यातानाकी पात्र भएर ठूलो आशामा ।

न यौवनका रङ्गहरुसँग उ रङ्गोलिन पाउँछे
न वैंशालु शरीरलाई सिर्ङ्गार्न मन लगाउँछे
लोग्नेको लात्ती र घुस्सामा पनि शान्त छे
लोग्नेको नशा र निशाचरणले उ क्लान्त छे
यस्तो दुर्दशामा पनि उनमा देखिदैन खिन्नता
दुख के हो सुख के हो उनमा देखिदैन भिन्नता ।

सधैं उसकै लागि मरेकी छ, उसकै लागि बाँचेकी छ
हृदयमा उसकै प्रतिमा, उसकै मायालाई साँचेकी छ
उनको हृदयमा पनि तुफान दौडेको होला
उनको स्वाभिमानमा पनि चोट परेको होला
खै ! यसमा उनको के बाध्यता छ ।

अत्याचार न निरिहले सहनु हुन्छ
अत्याचार न निर्धाले सहनु हुन्छ
सहेर अत्याचार कथित् बाँच्नु भन्दा
स्वतन्त्र एक्लो जीवन हाँस्नु वेश हुन्छ
अब उनले छाड्न सक्नु पर्छ उसलाई पछ्याउन
अब उनले सक्नु पर्छ उसलाई गलहत्याउन ।।

A Character – William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
1770 – 1850
Cumberland / England

I marvel how Nature could ever find space
For so many strange contrasts in one human face:
There’s thought and no thought, and there’s paleness and bloom
And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom.

There’s weakness, and strength both redundant and vain;
Such strength as, if ever affliction and pain
Could pierce through a temper that’s soft to disease,
Would be rational peace–a philosopher’s ease.

There’s indifference, alike when he fails or succeeds,
And attention full ten times as much as there needs;
Pride where there’s no envy, there’s so much of joy;
And mildness, and spirit both forward and coy.

There’s freedom, and sometimes a diffident stare
Of shame scarcely seeming to know that she’s there,
There’s virtue, the title it surely may claim,
Yet wants heaven knows what to be worthy the name.

This picture from nature may seem to depart,
Yet the Man would at once run away with your heart;
And I for five centuries right gladly would be
Such an odd such a kind happy creature as he.

I wandered lonely as a cloud – William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
1770 – 1850
Cumberland / England

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Daffodils – William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
1770-1850
Cumberland / England

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed–and gazed–but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

English Poem – Collaring the Elephant – Terry Dawson

Entranquiled by a darted potion
Upon his bushheld range,
The elephant’s world is in slow motion
It seems almighty strange.

Presently he falls down in slumbers;
People rush to his side
For they would track him as he wanders
His range in easy stride.

And when his paraplegia clears,
He is enhanced by tech
For a transmitter now he wears
In collar round his neck.

And by the means of this device,
As all will surely guess
The bearings, when they’re measured twice,
His whereabouts express.

English Poem – Courageous Girl (about a blind elephant) – Terry Dawson

I.
Sightless wild giant
Misfortune athwart her
Resilient, defiant,
Helped on by her daughter.

Born of the bushveld in time before.
Great matriarch, sage –
Cherished, guided, cared for,
Through benighted old.

II.
For the sake of our earth,
For generations unborn,
Fight we, with all our worth,
For a world they’ll not scorn.

I pray our will will endure
To steadfastly maintain –
As right requires – to save sure
The elephant’s wild domain.

कथा – अस्तित्व

अन्ततः हामी छुट्टयिौँ । छुट्टनिु थियो, कि थिएन ? छुट्टनिे गरी हामी एक भएका नै थियौँ कि थिएनौँ अथवा हाम्रो मिसावटमा अब छुट्याउन सक्ने किसिमको के छ र ? हामी दुवैले पहिलो स्पर्शमा एकअर्कालाई छोएका थियौँ । हामीमा अपार सामीप्य थियो नै र त्यागसमेत थियो ।
अब सम्पूर्ण त्याग मेरो परिकल्पनामा गएर अल्झियो । त्यागको मेरो अर्थ र त्यागको उनको अर्थमा वेमेलका फलहरू फलिरहे । हामीलाई सन्तानको लहराले पनि अल्झाउन सकेन । हाम्रो वैदिक बिहे, बिहेपछिकै होस्, पहिलो प्यार र प्यारा विगतहरू चिरिँदै गए । हाम्रो यथार्थ हामीबीचको व्यक्तित्व विवाद थियो । अरू केही थिएन । एउटा घर थियो । समर्पण थियो । सत्यता जरुर थियो । एक पति र एक पत्नीत्वपूर्ण पालना गरेका हामीले एकअर्कालाई स्वतन्त्रताको नाममा कहिल्यै घात गरेनौँ । सन्देह, शङ्का अहँ सम्झना पनि गरेनौँ । आरोपका वाणहरू, छरेनौँ तर पनि हामी सँगै बस्न सकेनौँ । व्यवहारमा नमिलेको फाटोले मन पनि फाट्दै जाँदोरहेछ । मन फाट्यो । बोली फाट्यो र फाटिँदै गयो हाम्रो जीवनको सगोल फाँट ।

यो घर, उनले छोडेर गएको घर, कुनै दिन उनको एकसूत्रीय सपना थियो । एउटी पत्नीको पतिसँग माग्ने एकल प्रस्ताव थियो । त्यो पनि छोडेर गइन् उनी । अझ पसिनाका कुरा गर्दासमेत हामी बराबरीमा तामेल हुन्छौँ । उनको परिश्रम, जागिर र तपस्यासमेत हो यो घर । आज घर छ । कोठाहरू छन् । उनकै छनोटका रङ बोकेर यी गुलावी पर्दाहरू हल्लिरहेका छन् तर उदासीले छ्याप्प छन् । सन्नाटा छछल्किरहन्छ कोठाभरि । जागिरको सङ्घर्ष, डेराको साँगुरो र हल्ला कर्जाको भारी सबै सँगै बोक्यौँ र भर्खर मात्र सुखले पाइला हाल्न लागेको हाम्रो जिन्दगीका बन्धनहरू खुकुलिन थाले । बन्धनहरू यति कफल्ला हुन सक्दारहेछन् । हामीमा आएको परिपक्वतासँगै, तर्कसँगै, हिम्मतसँगै हाम्रो बन्धन पनि खुकुलिँदै गयो । हाम्रो तर्क अरू केही थिएन । म उनलाई आमा जस्तो सम्झन्थेँ । उनी आफूलाई आफ्नो बाटोमा साहसी पाउँथिन् र उद्देश्यहरूको लहरमा हराउँथिन् ।
मेरी आमा । जब म घर र्फकन्थेँ, ती मुस्काउँथिन् । गलिस होला भन्थिन् । रुवाउँथिन् । दिनभरि ती काम गर्थिन तर म बिसाउँथे । मैले त कहिल्यै आमाको सोच सोच्न भ्याइँन । मेरो भोको स्तर, मेरो रोग, मेरा लुगा, मेरा स्वादहरू, जहाँजहाँ म छु, म जसरी सुत्छु, म जुन स्वरमा रेडियो सुन्छु, म कुन समयमा पानी पिउँछु, उनले कसरी जान्दथिन् ? सधैँ हाजिर हुन्थिन्, म आमामा रोपिँदै गएँ । आपाङ्ग हुँदै गएछु । मलाई सम्पूर्ण विश्वका आमाहरू यसै गर्लान् जस्तो लाग्थ्यो । आमाको उत्पत्तिको अर्थ नै यही होला भनेर म अनर्थ पढ्दै गएछु । पछि वयस्क भएँ । बिहे गरेँ । आमामा रोपिएको म उनमा सर्दै गएँ । मेरो आमाबिम्ब क्रमशः उनीद्वारा पूरा हुनुपर्ने सोचले ग्रसित हुँदै गयो । म आमा पाउन उनीमा खानतलासी गर्न थालेँ । यसरी मेरी श्रीमती, मेरै छोराहरूकी आमालाई म आˆनै आमा जस्तो हुन दबाब दिँदै गएँ ।

समयको गतिले धेरै परको यात्रा तरेको रहेछ । मेरी नपढेकी आमा र जागिरे श्रीमती, वात्सल्यको अपरिमितता र मायाको बराबरी कसरी हिसाब मिल्थ्यो र ? म बिगि्रसकेको थिएँ । सामाजिक सेरोफेरोमा उनको व्यक्तित्व स्थापित हुँदै थियो तर ममा सेवा भोक अपुरो हुँदै थियो । उनी थाकेर आउँदा मैले कहिल्यै थकान सोधिनँ । ममा त्यो संस्कृति नै थिएन । उनले कमाउदा निश्चय म खुसी थिएँ । मेरो आर्थिक जग मेरै अन्य सहकर्मीको भन्दा बलियो थियो तर त्यसको जस कहिल्यै उनको भागमा परेन । भित्रभित्रै म उनको प्रतिद्वन्द्वी स्थापित हुनथालेँ । उनले घरबाहिरका क्रियाकलापहरूमा भाग लिनु, उनको शैक्षिक योग्यता बढ्दै जानु, सङ्गठनको नेतृत्व गर्नु मेरा लागि अपाच्य हुन थाले । आखिर सामान्य कुरा थियो । महिला विकास कार्यालयकी उनी त योग्य अधिकृृत थिइन नै, सहजकर्ता पनि थिइन् । जागिरमा अरू पनि महिलाहरू छन् । वर्षहरू बित्दै गएपछि जिम्मेवारी पनि थपिन्छ । पद, कार्यभार थपिन्छ । दिनभरि तिनीहरू तनावमा रहन्छन् । फेरि घर, खाना, छोराहरू सबै हेरेकै हो । त्यति धेरै लापरवाही त हुँदै होइन । छोराहरू समेत गुनासो गर्दैनथेँ । पढाइमा पनि उत्कृष्ट नै थिए । म मात्रै हीनताबोधले हार्न थालेँछु । मेरा अधिकांश सपना भत्किदै गए । झर्किने, नबोल्ने र एक्लाएक्लै बस्ने हाम्रो चलन भयो । उनी पढ्न बस्नु, उनको फोन आउनु मेरो लागि असहृय हुँदै गयो । पछिपछि उनले मैले देख्ने गरी पढ्न छोडिन् । फोन उठाउन छोडिन् । आˆनो जीवनप्रति हामी उदासीन रहन थाल्यौँ । उदासीनता झाङ्गएिर हाम्रो सामीप्य खतम भयो । आभास, उच्छभास या प्रतिक्रिया सब क्रियाहीन थिए ।

आ-आफ्नो कमाईका हिसाब गर्दागर्दै हामी कति घण्टा बिताउँथ्यौँ । अब दुःख नगर्ने है भन्थ्यौँ, बजार जान्थ्यौँ तर किन्ने बेलामा खर्चको हिम्मत दुवैमा हुन्थ्यो र हाँस्दै र्फकन्थ्यौँ । अब हामी एक-अर्कालाई थाहा थिएन हामीले कति कमायौँ, कति जोगायौँ र कति खर्च गर्‍यौँ ? हामी क्रमशः शारीरिक सम्पर्कमा समेत उदासीन हुँदै गयौँ । सिलसिला सुरु हुन मात्र गाह्रो कति छिटो अस्तित्वशील हुँदै गयो उदासीनता । सुरुसुरुमा एक/दुईपल्ट हामी समाजसँग डरायौँ । आफन्तसँग डरायौँ । कतिपल्ट नाटकीय सामीप्यको आयोजना गर्‍यौँ तर अब हामीले खुलमखुल्ला बहस सुरु गर्‍यौँ । यी छोराहरूले पनि हाम्रो मौनता थाहा पाए । या हाम्रो बहस थाहा पाए । मैले नै मौनता तोडेँ । म उनलाई जागिर छोडाउने पक्षमा पनि थिइनँ । उनलाई घरमा थुन्ने उद्देश्य पनि थिएन तर घरको अपुरो या मेरो मनको अपुरो हो, सहने स्थितिमा समेत तयार रहिनँ । हाम्रा हिसाबहरू तयार हुन थाले । यो मौनताको के हिसाब हुनु ? अनि बेहिसाब उनले मौनताको बाँध फुटाइन् । मलाई केही चाहिँदैन । म डेरामै बस्छु । जे कमाउँछु, त्यसैले खान्छु । यी सबै मेरा नामका धनीपूर्जाहरू आफ्नो नाममा सार्नुस् । छोराहरू तपाईं नै हेर्नुस् । म मेरो कैदमुक्ततासँग यिनीहरूको दूरता साट्न तयार छु । व्यक्तिहीनतासँग म मात्र आमा हुन अब मेरो परिवेशले दिएन । मनले दिएन । अस्तित्वले त झन् दिँदै दिँदैन । म कानुनद्वारा पनि तपाईंलाई मुक्त गरौँला । आफूलाई खुसी राख्न तपाईं जे गर्नुहुन्छ, खुसीसाथ गर्नुस् । कति मानिसहरू अरूकै खुसीमा रमाउँछन् । तपाईं आˆनी श्रीमतीको खुसी त के उसको अस्तित्वदेखि समेत घिनाउनु भयो । आˆना एकाध साथीहरूले मप्रति गरेका टिप्पणीहरू समेत विश्लेषण गर्नुभएन ।

मैले तपाईंलाई एउटा श्रीमान्ले दिनुपर्ने व्यवस्थाहरूको कहिल्यै जिकिर गरिनँ । काँधकाँध मिलाउने पाइलापाइला चलाउने जीवनसाथी बन्न खोज्दा तपाईंले गलत मूल्याङ्कन गर्नुभो र ममा एउटी आमा र श्रीमती दुवै सहजकर्ताका रूपमा मात्रै खोज्नुभो जति उपलब्ध गराउँदै गएँ उति विक्षिप्त बन्नुभयो । विक्षिप्तता अब हामीबीच छेकबार बनेको छ जुन उपचारहीन जस्तो भइसकेको छ । तपाईंले आफूबाहेक कहिल्यै मलाई सोच्नु भएन । अब म झन् कसैले साथी बनाउनसमेत झस्कने व्यक्तित्वमा बदलिनेछु । अयोग्य सावित हुनेछु । सामाजिक टिप्पणीका प्रहारहरूसँग झनै चिरिनेछु । छोराहरूको दूरताले बेहोसिनेछु तर ती सबै पीडाभन्दा बढी मलाई विक्षिप्तताको प्रहार असहृय छ । जन्मदेखि खेपेको यो परिवेशले मलाई अझै परिपक्व बनाएछ तर तपाईं झन् काँतर हुनुभएको छ । एकदिन यही कायरता तपाइर्ंमाथि आइलाग्नेछ र मेरो तपस्याको वकालत गर्नेछ । तपाईं ब्यूँझनुहुनेछ । उनी यस्तै भन्दै गइन् । मसँग बसुञ्जेल पनि, मलाई छोडेपछि पनि जित उनकै भयो । उनीसँग मेरो अस्तित्वसमेत लिएर गइन् । मेरो विक्षिप्तता, प्रतिद्वन्द्व, डाहा या दोष सबै बगाएर गइन् । म उनलाई उनीसँग उनीजस्तै स्वीकार गर्ने बकसपत्र लेखिरहेछु । मेरो पारिवारिकताले म हुर्किएको सामाजिकताले, मेरो मनोविज्ञान दोषी थियो । जसले मेरो घर ‘घर’ हुन दिएन । अब म विक्षिप्तताको सामना गर्नेछु । मलाई माफ गर श्रद्धा । म रोगी थिएँ । अब निको भइसकेको छु ।

नेपाली कविता – वेश्यातन्त्र

तिमी शक्तिशाली छौ भने
तिमी सम्पत्तिशाली छौ भने
तिमी प्रभाशाली छौ भने
ढोका उदांगो छ, आऊ
स्वागत छ तिमी सबलाई

एकछिन ममाथि शासन गर
सम्पत्ति प्रभाव जोख
नशामा सञ्चित प्रभाव पोख
बजार तिम्रै लागि त हो
नजर तिम्रै लागि त हो
आऊ एकपटक सौर्य पराक्रम छर
वीर्यको खेती गर

तिम्रो र मेरो जात उस्तै उस्तै
तिम्रो मेरो बात उस्तै उस्तै
तिम्रो र मेरो हर रात उस्तै उस्तै
तिम्रो र मेरो अन्तरर्घात उस्तै उस्तै
तिमी राजनीति भन्छौ
म वेश्यावृत्ति भन्छु
दुबै जीवनका निम्ति/दुबै बिहानका निम्ति ।

तिमी स्वार्थको घोडा बन्छौ
म विश्वासको घोडा बन्छु
तिमी झण्डाको पसल थाप्छौ
म धन्दाको पसल थाप्छु
निर्वाचन, गाईजात्रा गर्छौ
प्रजातन्त्र, स्वर्ण यात्रा भर्छौ
रंग रंगका नेता भोला
झोला भर्ने बोल कबोल
मेरो व्यवस्था त्यत्ति बिग्रेको छैन
मेरो अवस्था जति बिग्रिएको छैन
तिमी रातभर जाग्राम रहेर दिनभर सुत्न सक्छौ
जिन्सी चपाएर नगदमा थुक्न सक्छौ
तिम्रो प्रजातन्त्रमा भन्दा स्वतन्त्र र निर्भिक भएर
आफूलाई मान्छे मान्छेमा रुपान्तरित गर्न सक्छु

तिमी मौकामा शक्ति किन्छौ
म पनि मौकामा शक्ति किन्छु
तिमी त्यसलाई भोट भन्छौ
म त्यसलाई नोट भन्छु
तर, वेश्यातन्त्र तिम्रो प्रजातन्त्रमा जस्तो
उधारो आश्वासन बाँड्दैन
प्रतिशत, कमिशन बाँड्दैन
मेची कालीको बगर बाँड्दैन
बादलपारिको सगर बाँड्दैन
दशगजाको साँध बाँड्दैन
स्वाभिमानको बाँध बाँड्दैन
सन्त्रास बाँड्दैन जनतामा
बन्दूक बारुद र लास बाँड्दैन
पूर्खाको उपहास बाँड्दैन
आस्थाको सगरमाथा बाँड्दैन
सपनाको सुनको लाछा बाँड्दैन
सहीद बनाएर जनता जिउँदो
ग्राहक रुवाएर कहिल्यै राख्दैन ।

नेपाली कविता – युवा हो !अब तिम्रो पालो

आज आत्म सम्मान गुमाएकी
जस्ति देखिएकि छु
यौवन लुटाएकी जस्ति
भएकि छु ।
यो भन्नेले भन्दिएर हो वा
हेर्नेका नजर कमजोर हो
अझै म मा त्यो वैंश र उन्माद छ
ति सबै सम्पदा र जोश छ
जुन तिमिले इतिहांसमा पढ्यौ ।
हो मेरा हिमशिखर चुम्न आउंदा
कोहि उत्तर पुगे
कोहि मेचि र कोशिमा वगेर दक्षिण पुगे
मेरा चार कोशे झाडिमा कोहि हराए त
कोहि तातो पानिको मूलमै डुबे ।
मेरो यौवन,कामोत्तेजना सबैलाइ
अशान्तिले विगारिदियो,ढाकिदियो,
धमिलाइदियो,रगंहिन वनाइदियो ।
हिजो मेरो यौवनको चर्चा पश्चिम सम्म पुग्थ्यो
मलाइ हेर्न,नियाल्न,अधिपत्य जमाउन सवै लालयित थिए
विश्वमा मलाइ शान्त स्वभावले चिन्थे
आजकल दिन वित्दै जादां
के हविगत वनाइदियौ ??
आजकल प्रवेक्षण गर्न होइन
खरिददारहरुको लाइन देख्छु
भक्तहरुको होइन मगन्ते र चोरहरु देख्छु
यो सव तिमिहरुले गर्दा हो !
आहा कुनै जमाना थियो
पृथ्वि,अमर, भिमशेन थिए
उन्का पहरेदारीमा मेरो यौवन…..!!!
मलाइ ति दिन रातहरु मधुमास जस्तो लाग्छ
म प्रत्येक दिन/वर्ष मधुमासमा झैं रमाउन चाहन्छु
तर आजकल,
सव लोभि-पापि
आफ्नो मात्र वैशं पोख्न चाहन्छन्
कोहि संग मर्दागिं नै छैन
मलाइ खुश राख्ने ।
सबका सब चौरासि कटेका,
वैतडि तार्ने अवस्थाका,लुत्रिएका,
थोतिएका,कुप्रिएका…
अनि के को कामभोग गर्न सक्ने ??
सवका सव टाउके को टाउकोमा
मेरो वैशं र योनि मात्र छ
मेरो शृगांरलाइ देख्न,वुज्न सकेनन्
मेरा प्राकृतिक अगंको महत्व र
सदुपयोग गर्न सकेनन्
केवल भोग मात्र गर्न खोजे
पहिल्यै वाट अधिपात्य मात्र जमाउन खोजे र
स्पर्श गर्नु अधिनै स्खलित भए ।
मेरा हिम शिखर चुम्न,पहाड चढ्न
खोंचमा हराउने हिम्मत गर्न सकेनन
त्यस्को चरम आनन्द लिन सकेनन्
खालि मोल मोलाइ गरे
सौदा वाजि गरे ।
अव तिमिहरु मलाइ……
जननि मात्र मानेर नबस
आउ यहि यौवन मै वैंशमै आउ
मलाइ शान्तिको प्रत्याभुति दिलाउ
मेरो पहरेदारि गर्ने हिम्मत गर ।
यि कुप्रिएका,लुत्रिएका,झोलिएका,
खुइलिएका लाइ पाखा लगाइदेउ
मलाइ घेरेर हेर
मेरा प्रत्येक अगंमा यौवन भेट्ने छौ
मेरो वास्ना को स्वाद
तिमि युवाहरुले लिनु पर्छ
म शताब्दि देखिको
पर्खाइमा छु तिर्खाएकि छु ।
श्रि ३ आए श्रि ५ आए
श्रि ४ आए यि सवका सव
मष्तिस्क सम्भोगमै स्खलित भए ।
यिनले मेरो चाहना सोधेनन्
मलाइ वुजेनन्
मलाइ विश्वास छ
अबको युवा पिढिंले सोध्ने छ
अनि बुज्ने छ मेरो आकांक्षा,
इच्क्षा शक्ति,काम शक्ति अनि वाशना….
आउ ढिलो नगर ।
संसारै वदलियो युगै फेरियो
त्यसैले मेरो कुमारित्व(पुर्ण शान्ति) चांहि नखोजिदेउ
तिमि युवालाइ अनुरोध छ
पूर्ण कामोत्तेजना विनै मेरो
कुमारित्व भंग भयो
तथापि मेरो यौवनमा कमि छैन
अझै म संग तिमिहरुलाइ
खुशि राख्ने शक्ति छ
म तिमिहरुलाइ चरम आनन्द दिन सक्छु
पगाल्न सक्छु,चढाउन सक्छु
वगाउन सक्छु, उडाउंन सक्छु ।
नपुशंक अभिभावक संग
सम्मानको गित गांउदै
डराएर नवस
म तिमिहरुलाइ पुर्ण जिम्मेवार देख्न चाहन्छु
म मा राजगर
अनि यि ,
पुरतन वादि, रुढि वादि, गैह्र जिम्मेवार,
हुतिहारा,वृद्दहरुलाइ मेरो सेवामा लगाइ देउ
तिमिहरु अगिवढ र मेरो हेरचाह गर,स्याहार गर
अनि मेरो यौवन हेर….
मेरा संवेदनशिल अगंको
धुलो,मैलो,कचिन्गर हटाइदेउ
तव हेर,
म सम्पन्न,आदर्शवान, सुन्दर
पयर्टकिय नगरि बन्ने छु
तिमिहरु भौंतारिदै खोज्दै हिंडेको,
दिन दिनै परदेशियको
भन्दा राम्रो देश बन्ने छु
सुन्दर विकसित राष्ट्र बन्ने छु
गौरवशालि शान्ति राष्ट्र देखिने छु ।

नेपाली कविता – पीडाको अनुहार

कसरी थामिएँ म
बाढीमा बग्दा बग्दै
बाढीमै रूपान्तरित हुनबाट

पहिरोमा झर्दा झर्दै पहिरोको
डरलाग्दो भीरमा परिणत हुनबाट
कसरी जोगिएँ म
आँधीबेहरीसँग पछारिँदा पछारिँदै
आफैँ आँधीबेहरी बनेर
बहुलाएको साढेँ जस्तो हुनबाट

धन्य ! ईश्वर
म तिमीलाई विपत्ति हरण गराउन
प्रार्थना गर्दिनँ

विपत्तिसँग लड्दा-लड्दा
दुःख र पीडा दौडने राजमार्ग
जस्तो भइसको छु

ईश्वर !
तिम्रो छायाँ
ममा नपरोस्
विपत्तिको यो आकाशजस्तो
प्यारो र पूज्य
अब अर्को मेरो केही रहेन

मसँगै छ उर्लिएको बाढी
मसँगै छ मगज बिगि्रएको
मान्छेको रूपजस्तो पहिरो

अनि मसँगै
यहाँसम्म आएको छ
रक्सीले मात्तिएको जवान सिपाही जस्तो
आँधी हुरी

अब मेरो परिचय
यो बाढी

यो पहिरो
र, यो अत्यास लाग्दो आँधी भएको छ

संसारका भएभरका
विपत्ति मैले नै भोग्नुपर्ने जस्तो

मैले हाँस्नै हुन्नजस्तो
मैले रमाउनै हुन्नजस्तो

म मान्छेका भीडमा
अमान्छेजस्तो

आश्चार्य लाग्छ
कसरी यहाँसम्म आउनसकेँ

भन ईश्वर !
पीडाको अर्को कुनै रूप बाँकी छ तिमीसँग ?

नेपाली कविता – उचाई

उचाइमा पुग्न सजिलो हुन्नरे – भन्नेहरू भन्छन्

पुगेपछि संसार आफ्नो मुठ्ठिमा हुन्छ बुझ्यौ – तिमी भन्छौ

त्येसैले त म देखिरहेछु –

सायद उचाइमा पुग्ने होड्बाजिको

यहाँ दौड लागेको छ ,

आकाश छुने आकाँक्षाहरू सगरमाथा भन्दा अग्लो छ

मलाई लाग्छ –

उचाइमा पुग्नु भन्दा

टिक्न बढी कठिन हुन्छ

सगरमाथा चढ्ने त धेरै भए

तर खोइ ?

को, को कहाँ, कहाँ पुगे ?

हो , म मान्थे हुँला –

यदि सगरमाथामा बस्ती बसेको भए

चन्द्रमामा शहर पसेको भए

थाहा छैन मैले धेरै बुझे वा थोरै

हरेक उचाइको फर्कने बाटो

केबल ओरालो मात्र देखेँ

नपत्याए सोध –

सगरमाथा आरोहीलाई

चन्द्रलोकबाट फर्केका अन्तरीक्ष यात्रीलाई !!

कविता – दाल भात डुकू

लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा
12 Nov 1909 – 14 Sept 1959

दुःखको लामो सडकमा
पीरको केही छडकमा
चल्दथे ‘टुक टुक टुकू !’
आफूजस्तै लाख हेरी
बेला-बेला
पार्न साजा ध्येयध्वनि नै मानवी डरबाट फेला
जसको आत्मा रस-घुट्को
पथमा चल्दै’टुक टुक टुकू !
‘टुक टुक टुकू!’

डाक्टरहरुले मानव-मुटुमा स्टेथोस्कोमा कान थापी
एक रोमान्टिक अर्थ लाउँथे
‘लबढब! लबढब’ बोल्छ रे त्यो
भन्ने मिथ्या खूब फिजाउँथे!
मानो लभ्को कोही ढुक्कुर, स्वप्नदलमा नीड बनाई
बोल्छ भाइ !
शिरी फरादका स्वप्न गाई!
मेडिकल विज्ञान मिथ्या भन्न कर लाग्यो मलाई!
यो रोमानी अर्थ लाई !
यथार्यावादी युगमा आज, किन म मानूँ बोल्न लाज ?
छाती छाम्द्रा, गन्द्रा, गुन्द्रा
निष्पक्षपाती भाव जम्दा
पाएँ मैले बोल्दो आर्को क्वै कुकू ।
‘दाल भात डुकू! दाल भात डुकू!’

अन्तरात्माको महावन सकल नर-उर-विहग-गुञ्जन
सत्य स्वरमा यत्ति भन्छन्
जो विना सब अस्तगौरव
हुन्छन् केवल पुक पुक पुकू !
विश्व हृदयको स्पन्दध्वनि हो
‘दाल भात डुकू! दाल भात डुकू !’

कोटले, भेस्टले छिपाई
दिलको गहरीमा लुकाई
बोक्रे इज्जत शान गर्छ
मुटुको ध्वनि यो भन्न पर्छ
तदापि मेरो के शरम ?
लेऊ गरम या लेऊ नरम! स्पष्टवक्ता कवि के डर्छ ?
जीवको यो प्रथम स्पन्दन
लहलहाउने सृष्टि नन्दन
सकल रसको एक नायक
भाव स्पन्दक प्यास गायक
सब कलाको प्रथम विनायक
‘ढुकढुकूको ढुकढुकूको ढुकढुकू’
‘दाल भात डुकू! दाल भात डुकू !’

मासुसँगमा गाँसिएको,हृदयसँगमा टाँसिएको,
जीव मासी नमासिएको ।
शाश्वत ध्वनि, छातीमनि, प्रतिश्वास गनी
बोल्छ, बोल्छ, सत्ते बोल्छ, अन्नमय कोषको कुकू
‘दाल भात डुकू! दाल भात डुकू !’

पहिलो जलमा प्रथम स्फुरणमा विष्णुको नै नाभिस्थलमा
यो डुकू दल जन्मिएको !
दाल यो हो शक्ति उनको भान्सातिर गै बदलिएको
दार्शनिक शब्द त्यसमा आई यो घरेलु वेश लिएको
भात त्यो हो जसको निम्ति अलम दुनियाँ
ढिक्किच्याउँ गर्छ सारा पथभरी चामल फलेर
रौसिएर या गलेर।
ध्यनि विचारी सहमत होलान्
अन्नमय कोषको कुकू !
‘दाल भात डुकू! दाल भात डुकू !’

ए भलाद्मी लौ विचार!
के हो यो मिथ्याचार
शान्त क्षणमा घडीले हान्दासम्म नकली’टिक टिक टिकू’
पलङमाथि लेटी सोचे
होइन के’दाल भात डुकू !’
यो विना बज्ला बबन्डर होला, ध्वँस होला
पृथ्वी रोला
सभ्यताको के प्रथम जग? हामी बेकार के लुकूँ?
‘दाल भात डुकू! दाल भात डुकू !’

दर्शन जो बुझ्दैन गहिरो प्याङ हो अभिमानको !
अन्धताको शानको !
बुझ्ने बुझून, यसकै निम्ति लड्छन्, मर्छन्
कार्य गर्छन्
यसको राष्ट्रिरयकरण केवल आजको हो तपस्या,
जुग-समस्या
यो नजान्ने लीडर भेडा
चल्छ त्यल्ले राष्ट-बेडा ?
हेर! एकबार आर्यघाटमा ईश्वरको या राजमाटमा !
ब्रह्मनालमा तेर्सिदामा खोजमा लाचार भै
नष्ट भू-आचार भै
बाई, बाई, पक्क पक मुख भन्छ मानिस आखिर !
‘स्वर्गका हे अधिराज हाम्रा! छैनौ चाम्रा !
करुणा गर !
पृथ्वी यो पाइएन, स्वर्गका होला भनेर
अर्कोतर्फ धाइएन
आँ! आँ! प्रभु! आँ! आँ! प्रभु !
‘दाल भात डुकू! दाल भात डुकू !’

नेपाली कविता – देशको खोजी

माटो दुख्छ जहाँ, त्यहाँ जनहरू बन्लान् निरोगी कहाँ ?

छाती फुट्छ जहाँ, त्यहाँ मनहरू हुन्नन् विराधी कहाँ ?

मेरो गौरव खै ! अनन्त रहने पुर्खाहरूको चिनो ?

मेरो पौरख खै ! हजार पहरा फोर्ने हिजोको छिनो ?

मेरा गौतम बुद्ध आज किन हो सर्दै गए दक्षिण ?

मेरो उच्च हिमाल उत्तरतिरै झुक्ला कि झैँ भो किन ?

बस्दै छन् इतिहास भै स्मरणमा सुस्ता र त्यो लुम्बिनी

खस्दै छन् किन हो निराश हुन गै हाम्रा चिनारी पनि ?

आगो लाग्न गयो नि भानुघरमा को पढ्छ रामायण ?

जल्दै छन् अहिले मुनामदनका पाना बिहानै किन ?

टोपी सुन्दर हुन्न माथ सबको भै’गो पराई अब

मानौँ त्यो इतिहास भै सहिदको गाथा बन्यो आखिर ।

दौरा आखिर घाइते हुन गयो माग्दै छ रे राहत

चोलो रुन्छ समीपमा सहिदका आफन्तजस्तै अब

बेपत्ता परिवारझैँ हुन गए यी राष्ट्रका गौरव

पानीको बरु मूल्य भो रगतको खै मोल ! खै आदर !

आफ्नो रूप कता पुग्यो चकित भै खोज्दै छ डाँफे चरी

के भो बन्दुक हातमा लिइहिँडे सोझा परेवा पनि

गाई सिमि्रक घाइते र कुरुवा लाली गुराँसै छ रे !

मर्दै छन् सब राष्ट्रका निधिहरू नेपाल मर्दै छ रे !

मेरो जे पहिचान हो लुटिन गो ढल्दै छ सीमा पनि

मेरो उच्च विचारको धरहरा गल्दै छ नौनी बनी

मेरो सुन्दर भेष छैन सँगमा भाषा कला बाँडिए

मेरो सुन्दर देश छैन मनमा पाखा, गुफा टाडिए ।

भाषा, भेष र सभ्यता सब थिए माटो थियो सुन्दर

मेरो देश रुँदै छ आज किन हो भत्केर त्यो मन्दिर !

आफ्नो रूप हराउँदा भन तिमी विश्वास लिन्छौ कहाँ ?

मेटाई पहिचान आज मनको नेपाल चिन्छौ कहाँ ?

The Snake Charmer – Sarojini Naidu

Sarojini Naidu
(13 February 1879 – 2 March 1949 / Hyderabad / India)

WHITHER dost thou hide from the magic of my flute-call?
In what moonlight-tangled meshes of perfume,
Where the clustering keovas guard the squirrel’s slumber,
Where the deep woods glimmer with the jasmine’s bloom?

I’ll feed thee, O beloved, on milk and wild red honey,
I’ll bear thee in a basket of rushes, green and white,
To a palace-bower where golden-vested maidens
Thread with mellow laughter the petals of delight.

Whither dost thou loiter, by what murmuring hollows,
Where oleanders scatter their ambrosial fire?
Come, thou subtle bride of my mellifluous wooing,
Come, thou silver-breasted moonbeam of de- sire!

Sonnet XCIII – William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
26 April 1564 – 23 April 1616

So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
Like a deceived husband; so love’s face
May still seem love to me, though alter’d new;
Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:
For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.
In many’s looks the false heart’s history
Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange,
But heaven in thy creation did decree
That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
Whate’er thy thoughts or thy heart’s workings be,
Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.
How like Eve’s apple doth thy beauty grow,
if thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!

The Procreation Sonnets (1 – 17) – William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
26 April 1564 – 23 April 1616

I

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding:
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

II

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,
Thy youth’s proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a totter’d weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv’d thy beauty’s use,
If thou couldst answer ‘This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,’
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.

III

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose unear’d womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother’s glass and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember’d not to be,
Die single and thine image dies with thee.

IV

Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy?
Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
And being frank she lends to those are free:
Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thy self alone,
Thou of thy self thy sweet self dost deceive:
Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
Which, used, lives th’ executor to be.

V

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o’er-snowed and bareness every where:
Then were not summer’s distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distill’d, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

VI

Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface,
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distilled:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty’s treasure ere it be self-killed.
That use is not forbidden usury,
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
That’s for thy self to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;
Ten times thy self were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
Be not self-willed, for thou art much too fair
To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.

VII

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
The eyes, ‘fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract, and look another way:
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon
Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.

VIII

Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: ‘Thou single wilt prove none.’

IX

Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye,
That thou consum’st thy self in single life?
Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
The world will wail thee like a makeless wife;
The world will be thy widow and still weep
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep
By children’s eyes, her husband’s shape in mind:
Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
But beauty’s waste hath in the world an end,
And kept unused the user so destroys it.
No love toward others in that bosom sits
That on himself such murd’rous shame commits.

X

For shame deny that thou bear’st love to any,
Who for thy self art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lov’st is most evident:
For thou art so possessed with murderous hate,
That ‘gainst thy self thou stick’st not to conspire,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
O! change thy thought, that I may change my mind:
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:
Make thee another self for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.

XI

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st
In one of thine, from that which thou departest;
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st,
Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest.
Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase;
Without this folly, age, and cold decay:
If all were minded so, the times should cease
And threescore year would make the world away.
Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
Look whom she best endow’d, she gave the more;
Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
She carv’d thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

XII

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silvered o’er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing ‘gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

XIII

O! that you were your self; but, love, you are
No longer yours, than you your self here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give:
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination; then you were
Yourself again, after yourself’s decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold,
Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?
O! none but unthrifts. Dear my love, you know,
You had a father: let your son say so.

XIV

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet methinks I have Astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself, to store thou wouldst convert;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.

XV

When I consider every thing that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory;
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
Where wasteful Time debateth with decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night,
And all in war with Time for love of you,
As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

XVI

But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
And fortify your self in your decay
With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?
Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens, yet unset,
With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,
Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair,
Which this, Time’s pencil, or my pupil pen,
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,
Can make you live your self in eyes of men.
To give away yourself, keeps yourself still,
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.

XVII

Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill’d with your most high deserts?
Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say ‘This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.’
So should my papers, yellow’d with their age,
Be scorn’d, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme.

Old Folks Laugh – Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou
4 April 1928 – 28 May 2014

They have spent their
content of simpering,
holding their lips this
and that way, winding
the lines between
their brows. Old folks
allow their bellies to jiggle like slow
tambourines.
The hollers
rise up and spill
over any way they want.
When old folks laugh, they free the world.
They turn slowly, slyly knowing
the best and the worst
of remembering.
Saliva glistens in
the corners of their mouths,
their heads wobble
on brittle necks, but
their laps
are filled with memories.
When old folks laugh, they consider the promise
of dear painless death, and generously
forgive life for happening
to them.

The Health-Food Diner – Maya Angelou

The Health-Food Diner
No sprouted wheat and soya shoots
And Brussels in a cake,
Carrot straw and spinach raw,
(Today, I need a steak).

Not thick brown rice and rice pilaw
Or mushrooms creamed on toast,
Turnips mashed and parsnips hashed,
(I’m dreaming of a roast).

Health-food folks around the world
Are thinned by anxious zeal,
They look for help in seafood kelp
(I count on breaded veal).

No smoking signs, raw mustard greens,
Zucchini by the ton,
Uncooked kale and bodies frail
Are sure to make me run

to

Loins of pork and chicken thighs
And standing rib, so prime,
Pork chops brown and fresh ground round
(I crave them all the time).

Irish stews and boiled corned beef
and hot dogs by the scores,
or any place that saves a space
For smoking carnivores.

These Yet To Be United States – Maya Angelou

Tremors of your network
cause kings to disappear.
Your open mouth in anger
makes nations bow in fear.

Your bombs can change the seasons,
obliterate the spring.
What more do you long for ?
Why are you suffering ?

You control the human lives
in Rome and Timbuktu.
Lonely nomads wandering
owe Telstar to you.

Seas shift at your bidding,
your mushrooms fill the sky.
Why are you unhappy ?
Why do your children cry ?

They kneel alone in terror
with dread in every glance.
Their nights [‘rights’ ? – Schrift nicht lesbar] are threatened daily
by a grim inheritance.

You dwell in whitened castles
with deep and poisoned moats
and cannot hear the curses
which fill your children’s throats.

कथा – झुमी

गितार समाएको युवकले निहुरेर लामो कपाल भित्तामा पछार्दै दर्शकलाई भन्यो, जस्ट फर यु । गितारले त्यही भाकामा भन्यो- झङ झङ झङ । स्टेजमा नाच्दै चिच्याइरहेकी युवतीले स्तन हल्लाउँदै दर्शकलाई भनी, जस्ट फर यु । गितारले त्यही भाकामा भन्यो- झङ झङ झङ । युवा जोशका केही दर्शकले उल्लासमय स्वरमा भने- जस्ट फर मी ।

छोटो हाफ पाइन्ट लगाएका दुइटी केटी एउटा केटासँग छाती जुधाउँदै अग्लो सिँडीमा नाच्न थाले । तल बःहालमा सङ्गीतको तालमा नाचिरहेका किशोरहरू तिनका नृत्य हेरेर रमाउँदै सिटी बजाउन थाले । केटीहरू झन्झन् उत्तेजित भइरहेका थिए ।

‘हाई गाइज, तपाईं मलाई बब मार्लीजस्तै देख्नुहुन्छ, होइन ? द सेम गाई हु स्यांग नो वमन नो क्राई Û’ स्टेजमा अब अर्को युवकको प्रवेश भएको थियो । किशोर दर्शक चिच्याए, ‘या.ऽ..या.ऽ..बब मार्ले, नो वमन नो क्राई ।’

‘तर म बब मार्लेले जस्तो वाइहात रिभोल्युसनको गीत गाउने छैन । सोकल्ड प्रोगे्रसिभहरूले जस्तो अधिकारको गीत गाएर पनि तपाईंहरूलाई बोर गर्ने छैन । आई विल अफर यु अ परफेक्ट इन्जोयमेन्ट ।’ उसले अघि बेस्सरि हल्लाएको कपाल टाउकाबाट झिक्यो र टेबुलमा राख्यो । अब युवकको टाउको मुडुल्लो थियो । किशोर-किशोरी खुसीले तीन हात उपि|mए । ऊ मुडुल्लो टाउको कपाल भएजस्तै गरी हल्लाउन थाल्यो । हल्लाइरहृयो, हल्लाइरहृयो ।

‘इट इज जस्ट टु मेक यु इन्जोय ।’ सङ्गीत टोलीतर्फ दुवै हात उठाएर हरिवंश आचार्यले कुनै टेलिफिल्ममा जस्तै उसले आदेश दियो, ‘म्युजिक Û’ गितार र ड्रमसेटको चर्को आवाजले टोलका घरहरू थरर्र थर्कन थाले । नेपाली बब मार्ले सङ्गीतको भोलुमलाई जित्ने गरी गाउन थाल्यो-

पल्लो घरको झ्यालमाथि एउटी सुन्दरी छे

स्याउजस्ता गाला त्यसका, हिमालजस्ता छाती

देखाउँदै मलाई भन्छे आऊ न अलि राति

पल्लो घरको झ्यालमाथि एउटी सुन्दरी छे

रातिराति सधैँ मलाई त्यसले बोलाउँछे

किशोर-किशोरी, युवा-युवती जतिसक्दो जोडले उप|mँदै नाच्न थाले । यो खेलमा केही अध्बैँसे पनि संलग्न थिए । ती सकेसम्म किशोरीका हूलमा कोचिएर उप|mन्थे र छिनमै घचेटिएर छेउमा पुग्थे । किशोरीका हूलमा पुग्न त स्वयं किशोर र युवाहरू नै प्रतिस्पर्धा गरिरहेका हुन्थे । कतिसम्म भने अनौपचारिक सम्झौताजस्तै हलक्क बढेका किशोरहरू परिपक्व युवतीका हूलमा अनि जिम गरेर पहलमानको जस्तो छाती बनाएका युवकहरू किशोरीको हुलमा पुग्थे र तिनीहरूका पेट र कम्मरमा हात राखेर नाचिदिन्थे । हात त्यहीँ बसिरहनुपर्ने कुनै बाध्यकारी संविधान थिएन । अतः त्यो आरोही जस्तै निरन्तर माथिमाथि सर्दै छातीतिर सल्बलाउन थाल्थ्यो ।

यो सह-नृत्यमा किशोर र युवाहरू मात्र अघि बढ्थे भन्नु महिलाजनप्रति अलि अन्याय हुन्थ्यो । किशोरी र युवती पनि त्यतिकै स्वतन्त्रतापूर्वक पुरुषको हूलमा पाइला अघि बढाउँथे र कम्मर थमाउँथे । सत्य कतिसम्म थियो भने पुरुषको तुलनामा महिलाको सङ्ख्या तद्बेसिक कम थियो ।

रातको एघार बजे, चर्को सङ्गीत, चर्को स्वर र निमेषमै फेरिरहने बत्तीका विविध रङहरू ।

‘ऊ त्यो मिनीस्कर्टवालीलाई चिन्छस् ?’

‘त्यसको स्कर्ट यही तालले छोटिँदै जाने हो भने प|mकको तल्लो फेर नै त्यसको कम्मरमा पुग्छ यार ।’

‘ए त्यो श्रेया ? त्यल्लाई त अस्ति शुभकामना प्यालेसमा किस्नेले……Û’

‘त्यसको नाम शैया राखिदिऊँ । त्यसो गरे कसो होला ?’

देशमा सङ्गीतले कति क्रान्तिकारी मोड लिएको थियो भने अब यो श्रव्यबाट एकाएक दृश्यमा परिणत भएको थियो । त्यसमा गायक र सङ्गीतकार नै सङ्गीतको शव काँधमा बोकेर हिँडेका देखिन्थे । तिनलाई आˆनै गीतका रचनाकार को हो थाहा हुन्नथ्यो । तथापि, देशका केही कवि कविताकर्म छाडेर गीत नै सबथोक हो भन्दै नियमितरूपमा गायक-सङ्गीतकारको दैलो पोत्न थालेका थिए । उता, दर्शकलाई चाहिँ गीतमा अभिनय गर्ने रहरलाग्दा मोडलबाहेक सङ्गीतकार र गायककैसमेत वास्ता हुन छाडेको थियो ।

यो त प्रत्यक्ष कार्यक्रम नै थियो, जसमा गायक-गायिका नै मोडलको रूपमा देखा पर्थे ।

मञ्चमा अर्को टोली प्रवेश गरेको थियो । यो केही केटीको समूह थियो । त्यसमा नृत्य गर्न एउटा केटा पनि मञ्चमा उत्रियो । हाफ पाइन्ट र टाँक नलगाएको सर्टका तल्ला दुई फेर पेटनिर बाँधेकी केटी माइक समातेर अघि बढी ।

‘हाई गाइज, नाउ आई एम गोइङ टु प्रेजेन्ट लाइक अ भर्जिन बाई मेडोना, ओ के ?’

‘हाई गर्ल, आर यु अ भर्जिन ?’

‘ह्वाट डु यु थिंक ?’

‘नट बट जस्ट लाइक अ भर्जिन ।’

‘यु नटी, भेरी भेरी नटी ब्वायज । या…ऽ………।’

गितार र ड्रम सेटको चर्काे आवाजसँगै माइक समातेकी गायिका र जगल्टे युवकको नृत्य सुरु भयो । युवकहरूलाई यो निकै जोश दिने खालको थियो । केही युवक जबरजस्ती मञ्चमा छिर्न खोजे । सुरक्षा व्यवस्था निकै कडा थियो । यस कारण ती तलै बसेर उप|mन बाध्य भए । केटीले आफूलाई केटाको अँगालोमा छाडिदिई र आकाशतिर च्युँडो फर्काई । केटाले च्युँडोमा चुम्बन दियो । दर्शक तीन हात उप|mेर नाच्न थाले । यस्तो लाग्थ्यो, केटीले मेडोनाको गीतलाई पनि रिमिक्स गरिदिएकी थिई । पेटको लाम्टै बाहिर निकालुँलाझैँ गरी ऊ गाउन थाली ।

लाइक अ भर्जिन

फिल सो गुड इनसाइड

आ’हाभ नथिङ टु हाइड………………………………..

दिस इज अ आँपको दाना इट इज अ पाकेको

आइ एमको लर्के जोवन यु आरलाई साँचेको

दिस इज अ आँपको दाना…

मेडोनाको गीत सकिँदा नसकिँदै कथामा टेलपिसजस्तै उसले जीवन्त नृत्यसहित अर्को पपगीत गाई जुन रेडियोमा केटाको स्वरमा सुनिन्थ्यो । गीतमा उसले लंैगिक शब्द मिलाएकी थिई र पाकेको आँपको दानारूपी आफ्नो शरीर कसैका लागि साँचेको इशारा गरेकी थिई ।

दर्शकको उत्तेजनालाई बीचमै रोकेर ऊ मञ्चको पछिल्लो भागबाट तल ओर्ली जहाँ कुनै टेलिभिजन संवाददाता र क्यामेराम्यान उसलाई पासो थापिरहेका थिए ।

‘यु लुक सो स्मार्ट एन्ड सेक्सी ‘

‘थ्याङ्क यु, सबै जना यसै भन्छन् ।’

‘ब्वायप|mेन्ड्स कति छन् ?’

‘डु यु वान्ट टु बी वन अफ देम ?’

‘म्युजिक के हो ?’

‘ह्वीच मेक्स यु इन्टरटेन ।’

‘गायिका हुन केके आवश्यक छन् ?’

‘सेक्स अपिल । ह्याभ यु गन क्रेजी ? आइ एम प|mांकली स्पिकिङ ।’

‘मनपर्ने गायक ?’

‘द ह्यान्डसम ओल्डी जर्ज माइकल हु सिंग्स आइ वान्ट योर सेक्स ।’

‘मनपर्ने नायक ?’

‘उम् माइ ह्यान्डसम ब्राड पिट । आइ एम जेलस टु हलिवुड साइरेन एन्जेलिना जोली हु सिज्ड हिम ।’

‘तपाइँ मेसोकिस्ट हो ?’

‘तपाइँ स्याडिस्ट हो ? एनी वे, यु क्यान एक्सपिरिएन्स योरसेल्फ ।’

‘ह्याभ यु गट म्यारिड ?’

‘देयर इज अ भ्याकान्सी । यु क्यान अप्लाई ।’

‘राति सुत्दा कस्तो लुगा लगाउनुहुन्छ ?’

‘नटी ब्वाय, नो एन्सर ।’

‘जस्ट गिभ सर्ट एन्सर्स । तपाइँको गीतमा र्‍याप हुन्छ कि रेप हुन्छ ?’

‘रेप नै हुन्छ । तपाइँ यही चाहनुहुन्छ, हैन ?’

‘म्यारिज के हो ?’

‘एभ्री भर्जिन इम्प्यासेन्टली वेट्स फर एन्ड एभ्री स्पाउज वान्ट्स टु बी अवे प|mम ।’

‘सेक्स ?’

‘धत्…। हे..हे..सो फार, जस्ट फाइभ चान्सेज ।’

‘आइ जस्ट मिन योर जेन्डर

‘ओ, शिट डु यु थिङ्क एम आई थर्ड सेक्स ?’

मञ्चमा फेरि अघिकै ‘बब मार्ले’ र अघिकै केटी ओर्लिए । केटालाई अघिकै गीत गाउन आग्रह गरियो । उसले फेरि गायो-

पल्लो घरको झ्यालमाथि एउटी सुन्दरी छे

स्याउजस्ता गाला त्यसका, हिमालजस्ता छाती

देखाउँदै मलाई भन्छे आऊ न अलि राति

पल्लो घरको झ्यालमाथि एउटी सुन्दरी छे

रातिराति सधैँ मलाई त्यसले बोलाउँछे

बारुले छ कम्मर उसको, तर छाती फुक्का

उसलाई देखेपछि मन किन हुन्छ हुक्क

दुई टुक्रा प्याजजस्ता उसका दुई पाता

भुतुक्कै पारिहाल्ने कस्तो उसको जात

रामतोरियाँ उसका औँला, पिँडुलाचाहिँ थाम

मन कसरी थाम्नु मैले हरे राम राम

दर्शकको भीड अब निकै उत्तेजित थियो । तिनीहरू फेरि मञ्चमा उक्लिन खोजे । बाउन्सरहरूले फेरि तिनलाई रोके । प्रहरीले पनि बाउन्सरलाई सहयोग गर्‍यो । बत्तीको प्रकाश झिपिकझिपिक भइरहेको थियो ।

एउटा सङ्गीत टोली जबरजस्ती स्टेजमा गयो । ‘डियर अडेन्स, यहाँ हामीविरुद्ध षडयन्त्र हुँदैछ । हामीलाई गाउन नदिने षडयन्त्र हुँदैछ । आर यु विद अस ?’

‘एश ।’

‘देन प्लीज बी एट वसन्तपुर । वी विल पर्फम देयर ।’ बाउन्सर र प्रहरीले तिनीहरूलाई मञ्चबाट ओराले । तल गएर पनि तिनीहरूले दर्शकलाई वसन्तपुरमा आउन आग्रह गरे ।

केही दर्शक वसन्तपुर जान तयार भए । केहीले मुर्दावादका नारा लगाए । मञ्चमा नाचिरहेकी केटीले माइक समाएर दर्शकलाई आग्रह गरी । ‘डियर अडेन्स, वी विल पर्फम जस्ट फर यु अगेन ।’

दर्शकका पाइला अडिए र वसन्तरपुरतिर लागेका दर्शक पनि फर्की-फर्की आए । अघिको गीत ब्रेक भएको थियो । फेरि नयाँ सङ्गीत बज्न थाल्यो ।

केटाले दर्शकतिर हेरेर भन्यो, जस्ट फर यु ।

केटीले दर्शकतिर हेरेर भनी, जस्ट फर यु ।

केटाले अघिजस्तै कपाल भित्तामा पछार्दै घुमायो । केटीले त्यस्तै गरी । केटाले अघिजस्तै कपाल फुकालेर टेबुलमा राख्यो । केटीको कपाल नक्कली थिएन । यसकारण उसले साइबाबाको लकेट फुकालेर टेबुलमा राखी । केटाले सर्ट फुकालेर फालिदियो । केटीले पनि टिसर्ट फुकालेर फालिदिई । अब केटा भेस्ट र केटी चेस्टरमा मात्र थिए । केटाले भेस्ट पनि फुकालेर फालिदियो । केटीलाई आपत् पर्‍यो । ऊ त्यहाँ चेस्टर फ्याँक्न सक्दिनथी । दर्शकको एउटा तप्काले उसलाई चेस्टर फ्याँक्न आग्रह गर्‍यो । उसले प्यान्टबाट बेल्ट मिल्काएर फालिदिई । केटाले छाती हल्लाएर भन्यो, तपाईंहरूकै लागि । केटीले स्तन हल्लाएर भनी, तपाई्रहरूकै लागि ।

केटाले प्यान्ट पनि फुकालेर फालिदियो र भन्यो, तपाईंहरूकै लागि । केटी प्यान्ट फुकालेर पनि फाल्न सक्दिनँथी । ऊ अकमक्क परी । दर्शकले उसलाई प्यान्ट फुकालेर फाल्न आग्रह गरे । उसले हिन्दी सिनेमाकी कुनै हिरोइनले जस्तै पाइन्टको बटन खोली र जिपर खोलिदिई । त्यसपछि दुइटा हात आफ्ना दुई स्तनमा राखेर चारैतिर घुमी । त्यसपछि पाइन्टको बटन र जिपर लगाई । फेरि बेल्ट र टिसर्ट लगाई । केटाले पनि क्रमशः लुगा लगायो । अब सङ्गीत सुरु भयो । उनीहरू गाउन थाले, जस्ट फर यु । जस्ट फर यु । केटाले कपाल घुमायो । केटीले पनि त्यसै गरी । केटाले कपाल फुकाल्यो । केटीले लकेट फुकाली । केटाले टिसर्ट फुकाल्यो । केटीले पनि टिसर्ट फुकाली । सङ्गीतको एकोहोरो उँचो आवाज घन्किरहेकै थियो । दर्शक उप|mीउप|mी नाचिरहेका थिए ।

‘ए के भो ? के भो ?’

‘खै, के भएको हो ? केटीहरू रगतपच्छे भएर लडिरहेका छन् ।’

हेर्दाहेर्दै सिँडीमा उभिइरहेका दुई युवती सोत्राम भएर तल बःहालमा ढलेका थिए । तिनीहरूलाई छुरी हानिएको थियो । सङ्गीतको भोलम झन्झन् चर्किरहेको थियो । केही मानिस ढलेका केटीहरूलाई घेेरिरहेका थिए । तिनकै अगाडि ठिटाठिटी अनियन्त्रित भएर नाचिरहेका थिए । अगाडिबाट कसैले घचेट्यो । नाचिरहेका एक हूल किशोरकिशोरी ढलेका केटी र तिनीहरूलाई घेरिरहेका मान्छेमाथि गर्लम्म ढले ।

‘छुरा हान्ने त्यै झगडिया मुन्द्रे होइन ?’

‘खै कहाँ छ साले ?’

‘अपराधी बसिर’न्छ ?’

‘केटीहरू पनि बैँसले उम्लेकै हुन् है, नत्र यस्तो हुन्थ्यो ?’

‘होइन, के भएछ ?’

‘ठिटाले ठिटीको छाती समाइदे’छ ।’

‘अनि ?’

‘अनि के ? दुइटी ठिटी मिलेर चप्पल हाने । केटो लुरुक्क परेर हिँड्यो । एकैछिनपछि कुन सड्कोमा आएर दुवैलाई छुरी रोपेर टाप कस्यो ।’

‘समाउनु पर्दैनथ्यो ?’

‘छुरी बोकेको मान्छेलाई कसले समाउने ?’

‘थुक्क, यत्रा मान्छे भएर..।’

‘च.च..च..विचरी केटीहरू अस्पताल लानु पर्दैन ?’

‘लगेर कामै छैन, थिचिएरै मरिसके ।’

‘भनेर हुन्छ ? यत्रा मान्छे भएर यिनीहरू मरेको टुलुटुलु हेरिरहने ?’

‘क्या च्वाँक थे, मर्ने भए यार ‘

‘वा फेरि….., हुर्रे

‘ऊ…..या…….जस्ट फर यु । जस्ट फर यु ।’

‘हुइऽया…जस्ट फर यु । जस्ट फर यु ।’ -कोरस) ।

भीड पागल भएर नाचिरहृयो । झन्झन् नाचिरहृयो किनभने मञ्चमा केटाले फेरि पाइन्ट फालिदिएको थियो । केटीले फेरि पाइन्टको बटन खोलिदिएकी थिई । च

When my love swears that she is made of truth – William Shakespeare

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearnèd in the world’s false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told.
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered be.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds – William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind – William Shakespeare

Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As a friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun – William Shakespeare

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Partial Birth Abortion

In the continuing debates on the legality and morality of abortion, “partial birth” abortions have become a hot topic. What exactly is a partial birth abortion? Nebraska state legislation defines it as “an abortion procedure in which the person performing the abortion partially delivers a living unborn child before killing the unborn child and completing delivery” (1). While this definition may be fine for legal purposes, it still does not address the actual procedures; we still do not know what an actual partial birth abortion procedure entails.

The most common procedure is called Intact Dilation and Evacuation, or D&E. D&E involves dismembering the fetus inside the uterine cavity and then pulling it out through the already dilated cervix (1) . Another less common, but more controversial method is the dilation and extraction method, or D&X. This procedure requires a woman to take medication several days in advance to dilate the cervix. Once the cervix has dilated, she returns to complete the procedure. When she returns, the physician turns the fetus around in the uterus so that it is positioned feet first, and then delivers the fetus until only the head remains inside the mother’s body. At this point, the physician punctures the base if the skull and suctions out the contents of the fetus’ head, causing the skull to collapse. The dead fetus is then removed from the woman’s body (2). In each case the head (or more) is left inside the woman’s body because in order for a birth to have occurred under common law the head of the fetus must leave the mother’s body. Under the current interpretation of the United States Constitution, a person must be born in order to be protected by the government, so by leaving the head in the mother’s body the procedure is considered to be legally viable (1).

Proponents of a ban on partial birth abortions cite what they see as the extreme cruelty of the procedures as violating the constitutional rights of the fetus. They believe that birth should be defined as occurring as soon as any part of the fetus’ torso above the navel is visible, or when any of the fetus’ body has left the mother (1). Many argue that since the fetus in undoubtedly alive during the procedure, the issue of whether or not an actual birth has occurred should be of little consequence (3). Since partial birth abortions are performed late-term, many of the fetuses could in fact be self-sustaining outside of the mother’s body.

Those who oppose the ban argue that it jeopardizes the health and safety of the mother. Since all partial birth abortion bans presented in Congress and state legislatures have been vague as to which procedures they prohibit, the overall threat to women’s health is too great and would place an “undue burden” on the women in question (1). Late term abortion procedures that are not partial birth involve dismembering the fetus inside the uterus without cervical dilation, which can leave behind fetal tissue, or require the head to come out of the mother’s body uncollapsed, which can result in a live birth (1). In either of these procedures, there is a higher risk of puncturing the uterus or damaging the cervix than there is with partial birth methods (2). Banning partial birth abortions would leave these procedures as the only option for late term abortion. Additionally, none of the partial birth bans have included clauses allowing such procedures if they are necessary to the mother’s health and well-being. This means that if a woman had to have a late term abortion to save her own life, she would be forced to choose a riskier procedure. Since few women choose to terminate after seven to eight months of pregnancy for non-health related reasoning, it follows that most women seeking a late term abortion would be put in a difficult position. This is what the anti-ban groups mean when they refer to an undue burden on the mother’s health (4).

When I began my investigation, I was sure of my position on abortion rights, and convinced that little could change my mind, regardless of what the procedures actually involved. However, when reading the case made by the pro-ban side of the argument, I could not help but agree with certain things they said. Does birth really define life? I’m not so sure that I agree that it does. Does this mean that I completely disapprove of partial birth abortion? No – I still feel that a woman should be able to choose the safest method available, and in the case of late term abortions, partial birth procedures have obvious benefits. The information I gathered has, however, caused me to question my unconditional support of the procedures – should elective abortions really be allowed if the procedures are as, well, unpleasant as partial birth methods are? What I once thought were clear cut lines between the legal, the biological and the sentimental aspects of the issue have blurred.

सानै हुरीमा वैशको सपना – भूपी शेरचन

सानै हुरीमा वैशको सपना
सिमलको फूल झैं झरी गयो
तिमी के गयौ खुशीले पनि
मलाई आँखा तरी गयो

धेरै हाँसे साच्चि नै रुनु पर्दो रहेछ
हाँसोलाई आँशुले धुनु पर्दो रहेछ
बिर्स भन्ने निष्ठूरी बिर्सु कसरी
पहिले नै टाढा टाढा हुनु पर्दो रहेछ

वेदनाले ओठ निलो भै सक्यो अब त
आँखा पनि गिलो गिलो भै सक्यो अब त
नरोउ भन्दैमा के रुक्थे यि मेरा आँसुहरु
साह्रे नै साह्रै ढिलो भै सक्यो अब त

The Promise of Human Cloning

Cloning opens many doors of opportunities in the agricultural aspect of the United States of America. It has already been a major factor in saving the lives of many humans. I feel the society as a whole can not and should not degrade this scientifical finding. I feel that human cloning should not be done and that this subject raises too many ethical questions. I would like to focus on an agricultural aspect if I may. People raised hell when animal parts were put into humans to save lives and today it is an accepted part of medicinal science. I feel that cloning in an agricultural and medicinal aspect will become the same as transplanted animal parts. It will go through much debate, but ten years from now it will be accepted scientifically, socially, and morally. In an article in Newsweek called A Cloned Chop, Anyone? They take a somewhat neutral, but also somewhat negative viewpoint of cloning in an agricultural and medicinal sense. They admit some good aspects of this genetic engineering, but they still seem pessimistic of the future of cloning in animals excluding humans.
The first thing the article states is the Wall Street opportunities for the biotech field. Instead of phone calls from eager investors only phone calls from reporters were coming in asking about this market. I feel that now would be a great time to invest in biotechnical companies specializing in agricultural and medicinal cloning. This article says nothing about the great potentials of long term investment. Long term investment especially in the medicinal field is incredibly profitable. Just as in other controversial investing opportunities I feel that investors will find they could have made a lot of money if they invested in this area. Ten to fifteen years from now this agricultural cloning will be a commonly routine thing and price wars will begin for the products produced by them which means many great investment opportunities will be available. But one must remember that Wall Street is extremely short term investing so this is a good explanation for not many investors being interested in this because it is still many years before tangible and profitable products are made from cloning.
The article goes on to say the Scottish scientists have a lot of good ideas, but they seem to be only a sci-fi adventure. Once again I disagree. Scottish scientists are trying to help the human race, not be lucrative mad scientists looking for another way to manipulate the human race. The following are some things that have already been done with genetic engineering and they are helpful to us, the human race. They plan on genetically engineering cows that produce altered milk formulas for premature infants. This is great I do not know how anyone can go against this because if their infant’s life were on the line they would do everything in their power to save their child’s life. Also they are genetically engineering animal organs to be more similar to those of humans. So just like we have been trying to do we can take organs from animals and successfully transplant them into humans. Again this will save many lives of people with terminal diseases that can be saved by organ transplant.
Cloning is referred in the genetics area as transgenics. Some companies have been altering genes of animals with genes of humans to produce proteins needed to fight cancer and other diseases. Cloning may further enhance this procedure witch will help catalyst this treatment easily past the human testing stage into curing these horrible diseases. One company has already bred cows that may produce milk containing a protein essential for infants who can not nurse. Again I see no down side to this product and cloning will help speed this research along so we can save lives.
The article next talks about some positives. It tells how sheep with proteins necessary for saving human lives can be breed more efficiently with cloning. Right now only one or two out of every ten sheep produce the proteins needed. However with cloning these “good” sheep can be cloned. Then they breed with other clones to make a whole generation of sheep with the desired protein. One company in the biotech field PPL is hoping to genetically engineer animals that will produce a tissue glue for use in surgery and a drug for cystic fibrosis.
Finally the article states at the end that does anyone want to eat a cloned chop. Well the major restaurant chains did not seem interested. But first off only one sheep has been produced. I am sure they are not going to butcher the only clone to see how it tastes. I do not feel people should disclaim cloned meat. If an extremely good beef generation was produced they could be cloned. This would give excellent beef all year round and year after year. Of course cloning should not over take natural breeding, because through natural breeding we find more and better varieties of livestock. I am sure that the meat would be very tasty and palatable. The same goes true for grains, corn, and other plants. A superior seed may be available for worldwide use through cloning.
Overall there are many possible positive benefits of cloning in an agricultural and medicinal aspects. As of now no one has the authority or right to belittle cloning. Besides there is not even scientific evidence to support any refutations to go against any cases about cloning that may appear in a court of law. We must be patient as a world community to see what develops of this subject. But it is years away from hitting the market; all we can do is hope and wait that someday cloning will better the human race and ourselves

The Cloud Messenger – Kalidasa

Part 1

A certain yaksha who had been negligent in the execution of his own duties,
on account of a curse from his master which was to be endured for a year and
which was onerous as it separated him from his beloved, made his residence
among the hermitages of Ramagiri, whose waters were blessed by the bathing
of the daughter of Janaka1 and whose shade trees grew in profusion.

That lover, separated from his beloved, whose gold armlet had slipped from
his bare forearm, having dwelt on that mountain for some months, on the first
day of the month of Asadha, saw a cloud embracing the summit, which
resembled a mature elephant playfully butting a bank.

Managing with difficulty to stand up in front of that cloud which was the
cause of the renewal of his enthusiasm, that attendant of the king of kings,
pondered while holding back his tears. Even the mind of a happy person is
excited at the sight of a cloud. How much more so, when the one who longs to
cling to his neck is far away?

As the month of Nabhas was close at hand, having as his goal the sustaining
of the life of his beloved and wishing to cause the tidings of his own welfare
to be carried by the cloud, the delighted being spoke kind words of welcome
to the cloud to which offerings of fresh kutaja flowers had been made.

Owing to his impatience, not considering the imcompatibility between a cloud
consisting of vapour, light, water and wind and the contents of his message
best delivered by a person of normal faculties, the yaksha made this request to
the cloud, for among sentient and non-sentient things, those afflicted by desire
are naturally miserable:

Without doubt, your path unimpeded, you will see your brother’s wife, intent
on counting the days, faithful and living on. The bond of hope generally
sustains the quickly sinking hearts of women who are alone, and which wilt
like flowers.

Just as the favourable wind drives you slowly onward, this cataka cuckoo,
your kinsman, calls sweetly on the left. Knowing the season for fertilisation,
cranes, like threaded garlands in the sky, lovely to the eye, will serve you.

Your steady passage observed by charming female siddhas who in trepidation
wonder ‘Has the summit been carried off the mountain by the wind?’, you
who are heading north, fly up into the sky from this place where the nicula
trees flourish, avoiding on the way the blows of the trunks of the elephants of
the four quarters of the sky.

This rainbow, resembling the intermingled sparkling of jewels, appears before
Mt Valmikagra, on account of which your dark body takes on a particular
loveliness, as did the body of Vishnu dressed as a cowherd with the peacock’s
feather of glistening lustre.

While being imbibed by the eyes of the country women who are ignorant of
the play of the eyebrows, who are tender in their affection, and who are
thinking ‘The result of the harvest depends on you’, having ascended to a
region whose fields are fragrant from recent ploughing, you should proceed a
little to the west. Your pace is swift. Go north once more.

Mt Amrakuta will carefully bear you upon its head—you whose showers
extinguished its forest fires and who are overcome by fatigue of the road.
Even a lowly being, remembering an earlier kind deed, does not turn its back
on a friend who has come for refuge; how much less, then, one so lofty?

When you, remembling a glossy braid of hair, have ascended its summit, the
mountain whose slopes are covered with forest mangoes, glowing with ripe
fruit, takes on the appearance of a breast of the earth, dark at the centre, the
rest pale, worthy to be beheld by a divine couple.

Having rested for a moment at a bower enjoyed by the forest-dwelling
women, then travelling more swiftly when your waters have been discharged,
the next stage thence is crossed. You will see the river Reva spread at the foot
of Mt Vandhya, made rough with rocks and resembling the pattern formed by
the broken wrinkles on the body of an elephant.

Your showers shed, having partaken of her waters that are scented with the
fragrant exudation of forest elephants and whose flow is impeded by thickets
of rose-apples, you should proceed. Filled with water, the wind will be unable
to lift you, O cloud, for all this is empty is light, while fullness results in
heaviness.

Seeing the yellow-brown nipa with their stamens half erect, eating the kankali
flowers whose first buds have appeared on every bank, and smelling the
highly fragrant scent of the forest earth, the deer will indicate the way to the
cloud.

Watching the cataka cuckoos that are skilled in catching raindrops, and
watching the herons flying in skeins as they count them, the siddhas will hold
you in high regard at the moment of your thundering, having received the
trembling, agitated embraced of their beloved female companions!

I perceive in an instant, friend, your delays on mountain after mountain
scented with kakubha flowers—you who should desire to proceed for the sake
of my beloved. Welcomed by peacocks with teary eyes who have turned their
cries into words of welcome, you should somehow resolve to proceed at once.

Reaching their capital by the name of Vidisha, renowned in all quarters, and
having won at once complete satisfaction of your desires, you will drink the
sweet, rippling water from the Vetravati River which roars pleasantly at the
edge of her banks, rippling as if her face bore a frown.

There, for the sake of rest, your should occupy the mountain known as Nicaih
which seems to thrill at your touch with its full-blown kadamba flowers, and
whose grottoes make known the unbridled youthful deeds of the townsmen by
emitting the scent of intercourse with bought women.

After resting, move on while watering with fresh raindrops the clusters of
jasmine buds that grow in gardens on the banks of the forest rivers—you who
have made a momentary acquaintance with the flower-picking girls by lending
shade to their faces, the lotuses at whose ears are withered and broken as they
wipe away the perspiration from their cheeks.

Even though the route would be circuitous for one who, like you, is
northward-bound, do not turn your back on the love on the palace roofs in
Ujjayini. If you do not enjoy the eyes with flickering eyelids of the women
startled by bolts of lightning there, then you have been deceived!

On the way, after you have ascended to the Nirvandhya River, whose girdles
are flocks of birds calling on account of the turbulence of her waves, whose
gliding motion is rendered delightful with stumbling steps, and whose
exposed navel is her eddies, fill yourself with water, for amorous distraction
is a woman’s first expression of love for their beloved.

When you have passed that, you should duly adopt the means by which the
Sindhu River may cast off her emaciation—she whose waters have become
like a single braid of hair, whose complexion is made pale by the old leaves
falling from the trees on her banks, and who shows you goodwill because she
has been separated from you, O fortunate one.

Having reached Avanti where the village elders are well-versed in the legend
of Udayana, make your way to the aforementioned city of Vishala, filled with
splendour, like a beautiful piece of heaven carried there by means of the
remaining merit of gods who had fallen to earth when the fruits of the good
actions had nearly expired;

Where, at daybreak, the breeze from the Shipra River, carrying abroad the
sweet, clear, impassioned cries of the geese, fragrant from contact with the
scent of full-blown lotuses and pleasing to the body, carries off the lassitude
of the women after their love-play, like a lover making entreaties for further
enjoyment.

And having see by the tens of millions the strings of pearls with shining gems
as their central stones, conches, pearl-shells, emeralds as green as fresh grass
with radiating brilliance and pieces of coral displayed in the market there, the
oceans appear to contain nothing but water;

And where the knowledgeable populace regale visiting relatives thus: ‘Here
the king of the Vatsa brought the precious daughter of Pradyota. Here was the
golden grove of tala-trees of that same monarch. Here, they say, roamed
Nalagiri (the elephant), having pulled out his tie-post in fury.’

Your bulk increased by the incense that is used for perfuming the hair that
issues from the lattices, and honoured with gifts of dance by the domestic
peacocks out of their love for their friend, lay aside the weariness of the
travel while admiring the splendour of its palaces which are scented with
flowers and marked by the hennaed feet of the lovely women.

Observed respectfully by divine retinues who are reminded of the colour of
their master’s throat, you should proceed to the holy abode of the lord of the
three worlds, husband of Chandi, whose gardens are caressed by the winds
from the Gandhavati River, scented with the pollen of the blue lotuses and
perfumed by the bath-oils used by young women who delight in water-play.

Even if you arrive at Mahakala at some other time, O cloud, you should wait
until the sun passes from the range of the eye. Playing the honourable role of
drum at the evening offering to Shiva, you will receive the full reward for
your deep thunder.

There, their girdles jingling to their footsteps, and their hands tired from the
pretty waving of fly-whisks whose handles are brilliant with the sparkle of
jewels, having received from you raindrops at the onset of the rainy season
that soothe the scratches made by fingernails, the courtesans cast you
lingering sidelong glances that resemble rows of honey-bees.

Then, settled above the forests whose trees are like uplifted arms, being round
in shape, producing an evening light, red as a fresh China-rose, at the start of
Shiva’s dance, remove his desire for a fresh elephant skin—you whose
devotion is beheld by Parvati, her agitation stilled and her gaze transfixed.

Reveal the ground with a bolt of lightning that shines like a streak of gold
on a touchstone to the young women in that vicinity going by night to the homes of
their lovers along the royal highroad which has been robbed of light by a
darkness that could be pricked with a needle. Withhold your showers of rain
and rumbling thunder: they would be frightened!

Passing that night above the roof-top of a certain house where pigeons sleep,
you, whose consort the lightning is tired by prolonged sport, should complete
the rest of your journey when the sun reappears. Indeed, those who have
promised to accomplish a task for a friend do not tarry.

At that time, the tears of the wronged wives are to be soothed away by their
husbands. Therefore abandon at once the path of the sun. He too has returned
to remove the tears of dew from the lotus-faces of the lilies. If you obstruct
his rays, he may become greatly incensed.

Look To This Day – Kalidasa

Look to this day:
For it is life, the very life of life.
In its brief course
Lie all the verities and realities of your existence.
The bliss of growth,
The glory of action,
The splendour of achievement
Are but experiences of time.

For yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is only a vision;
And today well-lived, makes
Yesterday a dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well therefore to this day;
Such is the salutation to the ever-new dawn!

Woman Work – Maya Angelou

I’ve got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry
The baby to dry
I got company to feed
The garden to weed
I’ve got shirts to press
The tots to dress
The can to be cut
I gotta clean up this hut
Then see about the sick
And the cotton to pick.

Shine on me, sunshine
Rain on me, rain
Fall softly, dewdrops
And cool my brow again.

Storm, blow me from here
With your fiercest wind
Let me float across the sky
‘Til I can rest again.

Fall gently, snowflakes
Cover me with white
Cold icy kisses and
Let me rest tonight.

Sun, rain, curving sky
Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone
Star shine, moon glow
You’re all that I can call my own.

Touched by an Angel – Maya Angelou

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

Alone – Maya Angelou

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don’t believe I’m wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can’t use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They’ve got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I’ll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Still I Rise – Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

कथा – कोट

मेरो नाम सुराज हो । तपाइर्ं सोच्नुहुन्छ होला कस्तो नाम हो ! आमाबुबाले आफ्नो नाम मिलाउन खोज्दा यस्तो नाम जुर्‍यो । मेरा नजिककाहरू मलाई ‘सु’ भन्छन् । कहिलेकाही त उनीहरूले यसरी बोलाउदा केटाकेटीका लागि लघुशङ्काको अर्थ लागेर हासो उठ्छ । मान्छे म भावुक छु र हाल सत्ताइसको भए । बी.ए.पास छु । मेरो घर काठमाडौ, चिकंमुगलमा पर्छ । हाल पेशाले ट्याक्सी ड्राइभर भए पनि म आफूलाई ड्राइभर भन्न रुचाउन्न । यो मेरो केही समयको लागि गरिने काम मात्र हो । मलाई पढेर अझै धेरै गर्नुछ । स्नातक भएर पनि किन ट्याक्सी चलाइस् भनी साथीहरू भन्छन् तर जागिर खानु सजिलो कहा छ र ? उसमाथि अहिले भनसुन नहुने कुनै ठाउ छैन । चाकरी गर्दै हिाड्नु मेरो वशको कुरा हैन । शिक्षित बेरोजगारहरूको लाममा उभिनुभन्दा यो ट्याक्सी चलाउनु कुन नराम्रो हो र ? भएको अलिकति पुजीले ट्याक्सी किनें । ड्राइभर राख्यो उसैलाई तलब दिनुपर्छ । त्यसैले अरू ड्राइभर राख्नुभन्दा आफै गाडी हाक्नु निको ठानें । फेरि आफैले चलाउने हुदा अरू ड्राइभरले जस्तो समय र रकममा पाबन्द रहनु पनि परेन । मनमौजी तालको छु, मुड भएको दिन बिहानै ट्याक्सी हाक्छु, नभए दिनभरि पनि चलाउदिन । घरमा सानो सुखी परिवार छ । आमा घरै बस्नुहुन्छ । बहिनी अझै स्कुल पढ्दै छिन् । चञ्चले स्वभावकी बहिनी-बहिनीभन्दा बढी साथीजस्ती छिन् । हरबखत मसाग जिस्किरहन्छिन् । म उसलाई औधी माया गर्छु ।

आमाले घरधन्दाको बोझ देखाएर निकैपल्ट मसाग बिहेको लागि आग्रह गरिसक्नुभयो तर अहिलेसम्म भनेजस्ती फेला नपरेकी हुदा मैले उहाको त्यो इच्छा पुर्‍याउनक सकिरहेको छैन । बिहेको लागि जोडी त माथि नै बाधिइसकेको हुन्छ भन्छन्, आˆनो साइत भने जुरिसकेको छैन ।

मेरो आˆनो ट्याक्सीको कुनै खास रुट छैन । मैले आफ्नो ट्याक्सी कहीं पनि अड्याएको हुन्छु तर एउटा कुरा भने निश्चित छ, म प्रायः अबेरसम्म ट्याक्सी चलाउादिन । हद नाघे नौ नभए सााढे नौ । त्योभन्दा अबेरसम्म टयाक्सी चलाएको सायद अहिलेसम्म रेकर्ड छैन । एक त घरमा आमा र बहिनी मात्र, उसमाथि बहिनी म फर्की नआउन्जेल खाना कुरिरहन्छिन् । धेरैपल्ट नकुर्न भनिसकेा, बाहिर गएको मान्छे फर्किन कतिबेला हुन्छ के ठेगान तर उनी मान्दिनन् जसले गर्दा पनि बाध्य भएर मैले चााडै र्फकनुपर्छ । कुनै दिन कदाचित फर्किन ढिलो भए बहिनीको घुर्की र रिस खप्नुपर्छ । निकैबेर फकाएपछि बल्लबल्ल मान्छिन् । मलाई थाहा छ, यस्तो मनमौजी तालबाट मैले पैसा कहिल्यै कमाउन सक्दिन । बहिनीको पढाइ, उसको बिहे, घरको फेर्नुपर्ने छत …, यी धेरै कुराहरूको जिम्मेवारी मेरो सामु टड्कारो उभिएका छन् ।

कहुन त म आफूलाई त्यति साह्रो सज्जन ठान्दिन । चाड पर्वतिर लोकल चढेकै हुन्छ, कहिलेकाहीा चुरोट पिउंछु र ल्वाङ सुपारीको लत लागेको छ ममा । तर यति भइकन पनि मैले आफूलाई नैतिकताको स्तरदेखि गिर्ने मौका भने अहिलेसम्म दिएको छैन ।

हिजो राति छिमेकी साथी केदारको घरमा पार्टी थियो, बिहे गरेछ उसले । उसको घरबाट अलि ढिलै फर्किएा, सायद अलिअलि लागेको पनि थियो मलाई । उसकी श्रीमती देखेको थिएा, केदारको तुलनामा धेरै राम्री । चिटिक्क परेको भरिएको उनको जीउडाल आकर्षक थियो । हल्का बल्बमा अनिादो केदारको कोठा, म भने उनीहरूको सुहागरात सोचेर निकैबेरसम्म सुत्न सकिनं । ओल्टेकोल्टे गर्दै मध्यरातमा मात्र बल्ल निदाएछु । त्यसैले आज बिहान उठ्दा टाउको भारी थियो । ट्याक्सी चलाउने मुडै नभए पनि ट्याक्सी लिई बाहिर निस्कन्छु । किन हो, आज दिनभरिमा केही टिप मात्र भयो । सााझ चिसो र अध्यारो बढ्न थालेपछि घर फर्किने विचार गर्दै हुन्छु, एउटी युवती ट्याक्सीभित्र बस्छे । उसले लगाएको परˆयुमको तीव्र बासनाले टाउको दुख्छ । अगाडिको ऐनाबाट हेर्छु, आधुनिक पहिरन र मेकअपका परतहरूले पोतिएकी ऊ पूर्ण आकर्षक युवती देखिन्छे तर उसले बीस काटेकी छैन यो मेरो अनुमान हो । ‘लाजिम्पाट जाउा न’ ऊ भन्छे । उसको अनुरोधमा एउटा डर पनि थियो सायद ड्राइभरले अस्वीकार गरिहाल्ला कि भन्ने उसलाई लागेको हो । एक मन त लाग्छ जान्न भनुा, फर्किने बेला भइसकेको थियो । छिप्पिादै गरेको सााझ, अाध्यारो र एक्ली युवती, दिमागमा अलिकति टेन्सन भयो । म नबोली फर्केर प्रत्यक्ष उसको अनुहारमा हेर्छु । उसको गोरो अनुहार तातिएर रातो भएको छ । आाखा जुधेपछि अन्यमनस्कतामा ऊ अनुनयपूर्वक मुस्काउाछे ।

यो लास्ट टिप सोचेर गाडी उसको गन्तव्यतिर बढाउाछु । सडकका भीड, कोलाहल, र बत्तीहरू । बाटो जाम भएको छ । यो कुनै अनौठो हैन काठमाडौाको लागि । अगाडिको ऐनामा तरुनीलाई हेर्छु । उसको पहिरन र पोताई निकै भडकिलो देखिन्छ । अबेला राति एक्लै यात्रा गर्ने युवती आाटिली नै हुनुपर्छ । नत्र परिस्थिति र नियत सबैको राम्रो कहाा हुन्छ ? झ्याल बाहिर हेरिरहेका उसका आाखामा दौडिरहेका दृश्यहरू सायद थिएनन् किनकि बाहिरका कुनै पनि कुराले उसमा असर गरिरहेको थिएन ।
ट्याक्सी अगाडि गइरहेको हुन्छ । आाखाहरू सडकमा भए पनि म ऐनाबाट घरिघरि उसलाई हेर्न पुगिरहेको हुन्छु । आाखा चिम्लिरहेकी त्यस युवतीको तीखो र सुलुत्त परेको नाक आकर्षक छ । चिउाडोमा भएको अलि ठूलो त्यस्तो रातो कोठी मैले अरूमा देखेको छैन । ऐनामा देखिने उसका रसिला ओठ र भरिएका गाला पनि निकै राम्रा देखिन्छन् । यसरी बारुद भरिएर आगोको छेउ आएपछि आगो त लाग्छ नै, मानिसहरू त्यत्तिकै आगो लाग्यो भन्छन् । यसरी आएपछि नलुटिएला भन्ने पनि के छ र ? सबैजना मजस्ता कामनालाई बााध्ने पनि त हुादैनन् । “एकै छिन रोक्नुस है” । युवतीले अनुरोध गर्दा झसाग हुन्छु । सायद उसको गन्तव्य आएछ, सोच्छु । “दुई मिनेटको लागि पर्खिन सक्नुहुन्छ ? म एकजना मान्छे भेटेर आउाछु” रातिको समय अर्को ट्याक्सी नपाइएला भन्ने उसलाई पनि कत्रो पीर तर मलाई अबेर भैसकोले ऊसाग भाडा दिन अनुरोध गर्छु । “प्लिज एकैछिन मात्र हो । ” ऊ अनुनय गर्न थाल्छे । मलाई थाहा छ आज फर्केर फेरि बहिनीको घुर्की हेर्नुपर्नेछ मैले । युवती ओर्लेर नजिकैको घरभित्र पस्छे तर लगत्तै बाहिर निस्की ट्याक्सीभित्र अगाडि बस्दै भन्छे, “मान्छे नै भेटिएन, भाटभटेनीमा गएका छन् रे उतै जाउं न है” उसका आाखाभरि निकै आग्रह देखिन्छन् । धर्मसङ्कटमा पर्छु । उसको कुरा मानुा घर र्फकन ढिला भैसक्यो ,नमानुा रात यो बीच सडकमा एक्ली कहाा जाली ऊ । अर्को कुनै ट्याक्सी भेटिन्छ भन्ने कुनै ग्यारेन्टी पनि छैन । हुन त कुनै अपरिचितको ठेक्का मैले लिनु जरुरी छैन । मानवतावश नै सही उसलाई गन्तव्यमा छाड्ने विचार गर्छु ।

गाडी कुदेको छ तर हामी मौन छौा । गफाडी छैन तर म प्रायः आˆनो यात्रुहरूसाग गफ गरिरहन्छु । ऊसाग के गफ गर्नु ? चालामाला देख्दैमा बोल्न मन लागेन । भाटभटेनीमा पुगेर त्यहाा पनि ऊ एउटा घरभित्र पस्छे । लौ त्यहीं हराई कि भन्ने लागेको थियो तर ऊ र्फकन्छे । “अब कता ?” को भावमा म उसलाई हेर्छु । “धोबीघाट” ऊ निकै हताश देखिसकेकी छ । अघिको उसको गोरो अनुहारमा पीडा पोतिएको जस्तो छ । ऊ लामो निश्वास छाड्छे । आफूभित्रको पीडाले वा हताशपनको कारण बेचैनीमा ऊ लाइराखेको कोट पनि फुकाल्छे । स्लिवलेश लुगामा उसका सुडौल पाखुरा…म उसबाट ध्यान अन्यत्र लान खोज्छु । सडक बत्तीको चहकिलो प्रकाश उसमा पर्छ । अनुहार छोपेर टाउको निहुराई रहेकी ऊ एक्कासी सुाक्कसुाक्क गर्दै रुन थाल्छे । म हतप्रभ हुन्छु, केही बुझ्दिन । सुनसान बाटो, राति एक्ली युवती यसरी टयाक्सीभित्र बसी रुदा के अर्थ लाग्ला, मलाई डर पनि लाग्यो । “प्लिज यसरी नरुनुस् न, के भयो तपाईंलाई ?” मलाई उसको रुवाइमा भन्दा पनि उसको त्यो रोदन अरूले सुनेर के आपद आइलाग्ला भन्ने पीर लाग्यो । जमाना नै खराब छ । मेरो अनुरोधपछि उसको रुवाइ कम त हुन्छ तर अझै सुकसुकाइरहेकी छ । धोबीघाट आएपछि ऊ चुप लाग्छे । हिक्काहरू अझै उठिरहेका हुन्छन् । विस्तारै टाउको फर्काएर ऊ मतिर हेर्छे । गाजल लत्पतिएका आाखा र नाकको टुप्पासमेत राता भएका छन् । ऊ ढोका खोली बाहिर निस्कन्छे । परिस्थितिले लाटो बनाएको म ऊसाग भाडा पनि माग्न सक्दिन न त उसैले कति भयो भनी सोध्छे । दुवै जना चुप छौ । सायद उसले कुनै कडा टिप्पणीको अपेक्षा गरेकी थिई जब म केही बोल्दिन ऊ आफूले फुकालेको कोट मेरो हातमा थम्याई अगाडिको मोडमा गएर हराउछे । म ऊ गएको दिशातिर हेरिरहन्छु । यो कुनै स्वप्न हो वा यथार्थ छुट्याउन गाह्रो भएझै लाग्छ । रिस उठ्छ आफैादेखि, मैले यो टिप गर्नै नहुने थियो । स्तब्ध छु, यो मेरो कमजोरी हो वा उदारता, यत्तिका बेर सडक नापेर आफूले पाउनुपर्ने भाडा नपाउदा पनि रोएर आˆनो असमर्थता जनाउने युवतीप्रति म आक्रोशित हुन सकिान ।

परफ्युम छर्किएको कोट मेरो हातमा छ, नरम र सिल्की । पैसाको सट्टा उठेको यो ट्याक्सी भाडा हो आजको । कोटको भित्री खल्तीमा केही भएdmैा लागेर निकाली हेर्छु । बन्द नगरिएको खामभित्र एउटा चिठी हुन्छ । अरूको चिठी पढ्नु हुदैन भन्छन्, कौतुहलवश खोल्छु ।
आदरणीय बाबा, चिठी लेख्छु भन्दाभन्दै ढिला भयो । यहा काम खोज्न साह्रै गाह्रो रहेछ बाबा । अहिले चन्दवीर अङ्कलले एउटा काम खोजिदिनु भएको छ । त्यति गाह्रो त हैन तर थाक्छु । राति कलेज पनि जान्छु, सायद त्यसैले होला । अब बाबालाई छिटै पैसा पठाउाछु । यसपालि दाइको खुट्टाको अपरेशन गरिहाल्नुपर्छ । दाइले सक्नुभएको भए बाबालाई दुःखै हुादैनथ्यो । आशा छ, आमा सन्चै हुनुहुन्छ होला । बाबा हजुरले आˆनो खोकीको दवाइ नछुटाउनु होला । म सञ्चै छु, मेरो पीर नगर्नु होला ।

छोरी रन्जु चिठी पढेर अनायसै करुणा जाग्छ युवतीप्रति । उसले जेजस्तै काम गरिरहेकी भए पनि परिवारको निमित्त खटिरहेकी उसको सामु नतमस्तक हुन्छु । चिठी खसाल्न ठीक पारेकी उसले बिर्सेकी होली भनेर बाटोमा एकैछिन कुर्छु सायद चिठी लिन पो आइहाल्छिन् कि । त्यो बेला मात्र हैन मैले त्यसपछि पनि उसलाई अन्त कतै देखेको छैन । दुईचारपल्ट धोवीघाटतिर पनि नगएको हैन तर उसलाई भेटिना । बाटोमा कतै देखे यो उसको कोट उसैलाई फर्काएर उसाग भेटघाटलाई अगाडि बढाउन चाहेको छु । त्यही भएर यो कोट सधै साथमा लिई हिड्ने गरेको छु ।

के तपाईंले देख्नुभएको छ उसलाई ?

कथा – कार्यालय सरेको सूचना

कोठा ठूलो र फर्निचरले खचाखच भरिएको थियो । पिएको टेबुलबाहेक सबै कुर्सी पर्याप्त सङ्ख्यामा थिएन, ‘कतै कुर्सी खाली भए बस्नु हुन्थ्यो’ को सङ्ख्या पनि पर्याप्त थियो । कहिले भीडसाग वार्ता, अन्तर्वार्ता, कहिले फाइलसाग मन्त्री कक्षको भित्र बाहिर, कहिले फोन र टिपोट । पिए थियो अत्यन्त व्यस्त । भीड थियो पालोका लागि आतुर । एघार बजेदेखि पालो पर्खेर बसेको रामानन्द शुक्लको पालो आउन दुई बज्नुपर्‍यो ।
“भन्नुस्, तपाईंको के छ ?”
“म विगत तीन वर्षदेखि डोल्पामा छु । त्यस्तो दुर्गममा तीन तीन वर्ष बसे । सरुवा गरी पाउाको निवेदन लिएर आएको ।”
“कुन तहमा हुनुहुन्छ?”
“कृषि अधिकृत र हाल निमित्त हाकिम पनि ।”
“अफिसको तह सोधेको होइन, हाम्रो पार्टी सङ्गठनको तह भनेको ।”
“म पार्टीमा लागेको छैन, पिए साब ।”
“पाटीको सिफारिस छ ?”
“त्यो पनि छैन ।”
“यो पनि छैन, त्यो पनि छैन, अनि डोल्पामा नबसेर कहाा बस्ने त । मैले भन्नु पर्दा त तपाईंलाई निमित्त नै धेरै छ ।”
“म सधैाभरि कर्मचारी राजनीतिमा लाग्नु हुादैन भन्ने मान्यतामा बसेा ।”
“कहा छ तपाईंको मान्यता ?”
“निजामती सेवा ऐनमा ।”
“त्यसो भए हाकिम साहेबलाई सानो दुःख दिउ, हुन्छ ?”
“अवश्य, पिए साहेब ।” ओइलाउदै गएको रामानन्द केही उजेलियो ।
“दुर्गम जिल्लामा तीन वर्षभन्दा बढी बस्न नहुने ऐनको दफा ल्याउनु भयो भने सरुवा गर्न सजिलो होला, त्यही दुःख दिउ भनेको ।”
त्यसपछि रामानन्दसागै बसेको अर्को भीड सदस्यको पालो आयो- “ल भन्नुस् तपाईंको के छ ?”

A Lover’s Complaint – William Shakespeare

FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale;
Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
Storming her world with sorrow’s wind and rain.

Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Which fortified her visage from the sun,
Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
The carcass of beauty spent and done:
Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven’s fell rage,
Some beauty peep’d through lattice of sear’d age.

Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
Which on it had conceited characters,
Laundering the silken figures in the brine
That season’d woe had pelleted in tears,
And often reading what contents it bears;
As often shrieking undistinguish’d woe,
In clamours of all size, both high and low.

Sometimes her levell’d eyes their carriage ride,
As they did battery to the spheres intend;
Sometime diverted their poor balls are tied
To the orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
To every place at once, and, nowhere fix’d,
The mind and sight distractedly commix’d.

Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat,
Proclaim’d in her a careless hand of pride
For some, untuck’d, descended her sheaved hat,
Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside;
Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,
And true to bondage would not break from thence,
Though slackly braided in loose negligence.

A thousand favours from a maund she drew
Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet,
Which one by one she in a river threw,
Upon whose weeping margent she was set;
Like usury, applying wet to wet,
Or monarch’s hands that let not bounty fall
Where want cries some, but where excess begs all.

Of folded schedules had she many a one,
Which she perused, sigh’d, tore, and gave the flood;
Crack’d many a ring of posied gold and bone
Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;
Found yet moe letters sadly penn’d in blood,
With sleided silk feat and affectedly
Enswathed, and seal’d to curious secrecy.

These often bathed she in her fluxive eyes,
And often kiss’d, and often ‘gan to tear:
Cried ‘O false blood, thou register of lies,
What unapproved witness dost thou bear!
Ink would have seem’d more black and damned here!’
This said, in top of rage the lines she rents,
Big discontent so breaking their contents.

A reverend man that grazed his cattle nigh–
Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swiftest hours, observed as they flew–
Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew,
And, privileged by age, desires to know
In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.

So slides he down upon his grained bat,
And comely-distant sits he by her side;
When he again desires her, being sat,
Her grievance with his hearing to divide:
If that from him there may be aught applied
Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,
‘Tis promised in the charity of age.

‘Father,’ she says, ‘though in me you behold
The injury of many a blasting hour,
Let it not tell your judgment I am old;
Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power:
I might as yet have been a spreading flower,
Fresh to myself, If I had self-applied
Love to myself and to no love beside.

‘But, woe is me! too early I attended
A youthful suit–it was to gain my grace–
Of one by nature’s outwards so commended,
That maidens’ eyes stuck over all his face:
Love lack’d a dwelling, and made him her place;
And when in his fair parts she did abide,
She was new lodged and newly deified.

‘His browny locks did hang in crooked curls;
And every light occasion of the wind
Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.
What’s sweet to do, to do will aptly find:
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,
For on his visage was in little drawn
What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.

‘Small show of man was yet upon his chin;
His phoenix down began but to appear
Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin
Whose bare out-bragg’d the web it seem’d to wear:
Yet show’d his visage by that cost more dear;
And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
If best were as it was, or best without.

‘His qualities were beauteous as his form,
For maiden-tongued he was, and thereof free;
Yet, if men moved him, was he such a storm
As oft ‘twixt May and April is to see,
When winds breathe sweet, untidy though they be.
His rudeness so with his authorized youth
Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.

‘Well could he ride, and often men would say
‘That horse his mettle from his rider takes:
Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,
What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop
he makes!’
And controversy hence a question takes,
Whether the horse by him became his deed,
Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.

‘But quickly on this side the verdict went:
His real habitude gave life and grace
To appertainings and to ornament,
Accomplish’d in himself, not in his case:
All aids, themselves made fairer by their place,
Came for additions; yet their purposed trim
Pieced not his grace, but were all graced by him.

‘So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kinds of arguments and question deep,
All replication prompt, and reason strong,
For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
He had the dialect and different skill,
Catching all passions in his craft of will:

‘That he did in the general bosom reign
Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted,
To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
In personal duty, following where he haunted:
Consents bewitch’d, ere he desire, have granted;
And dialogued for him what he would say,
Ask’d their own wills, and made their wills obey.

‘Many there were that did his picture get,
To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind;
Like fools that in th’ imagination set
The goodly objects which abroad they find
Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assign’d;
And labouring in moe pleasures to bestow them
Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them:

‘So many have, that never touch’d his hand,
Sweetly supposed them mistress of his heart.
My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,
And was my own fee-simple, not in part,
What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
Threw my affections in his charmed power,
Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower.

‘Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
Demand of him, nor being desired yielded;
Finding myself in honour so forbid,
With safest distance I mine honour shielded:
Experience for me many bulwarks builded
Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain’d the foil
Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.

‘But, ah, who ever shunn’d by precedent
The destined ill she must herself assay?
Or forced examples, ‘gainst her own content,
To put the by-past perils in her way?
Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay;
For when we rage, advice is often seen
By blunting us to make our wits more keen.

‘Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,
That we must curb it upon others’ proof;
To be forbod the sweets that seem so good,
For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
O appetite, from judgment stand aloof!
The one a palate hath that needs will taste,
Though Reason weep, and cry, ‘It is thy last.’

‘For further I could say ‘This man’s untrue,’
And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;
Heard where his plants in others’ orchards grew,
Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling;
Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
Thought characters and words merely but art,
And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.

‘And long upon these terms I held my city,
Till thus he gan besiege me: ‘Gentle maid,
Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,
And be not of my holy vows afraid:
That’s to ye sworn to none was ever said;
For feasts of love I have been call’d unto,
Till now did ne’er invite, nor never woo.

”All my offences that abroad you see
Are errors of the blood, none of the mind;
Love made them not: with acture they may be,
Where neither party is nor true nor kind:
They sought their shame that so their shame did find;
And so much less of shame in me remains,
By how much of me their reproach contains.

”Among the many that mine eyes have seen,
Not one whose flame my heart so much as warm’d,
Or my affection put to the smallest teen,
Or any of my leisures ever charm’d:
Harm have I done to them, but ne’er was harm’d;
Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,
And reign’d, commanding in his monarchy.

”Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me,
Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood;
Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me
Of grief and blushes, aptly understood
In bloodless white and the encrimson’d mood;
Effects of terror and dear modesty,
Encamp’d in hearts, but fighting outwardly.

”And, lo, behold these talents of their hair,
With twisted metal amorously impleach’d,
I have received from many a several fair,
Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech’d,
With the annexions of fair gems enrich’d,
And deep-brain’d sonnets that did amplify
Each stone’s dear nature, worth, and quality.

”The diamond,–why, ’twas beautiful and hard,
Whereto his invised properties did tend;
The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard
Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;
The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend
With objects manifold: each several stone,
With wit well blazon’d, smiled or made some moan.

”Lo, all these trophies of affections hot,
Of pensived and subdued desires the tender,
Nature hath charged me that I hoard them not,
But yield them up where I myself must render,
That is, to you, my origin and ender;
For these, of force, must your oblations be,
Since I their altar, you enpatron me.

”O, then, advance of yours that phraseless hand,
Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise;
Take all these similes to your own command,
Hallow’d with sighs that burning lungs did raise;
What me your minister, for you obeys,
Works under you; and to your audit comes
Their distract parcels in combined sums.

”Lo, this device was sent me from a nun,
Or sister sanctified, of holiest note;
Which late her noble suit in court did shun,
Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote;
For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,
But kept cold distance, and did thence remove,
To spend her living in eternal love.

”But, O my sweet, what labour is’t to leave
The thing we have not, mastering what not strives,
Playing the place which did no form receive,
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves?
She that her fame so to herself contrives,
The scars of battle ‘scapeth by the flight,
And makes her absence valiant, not her might.

”O, pardon me, in that my boast is true:
The accident which brought me to her eye
Upon the moment did her force subdue,
And now she would the caged cloister fly:
Religious love put out Religion’s eye:
Not to be tempted, would she be immured,
And now, to tempt, all liberty procured.

”How mighty then you are, O, hear me tell!
The broken bosoms that to me belong
Have emptied all their fountains in my well,
And mine I pour your ocean all among:
I strong o’er them, and you o’er me being strong,
Must for your victory us all congest,
As compound love to physic your cold breast.

”My parts had power to charm a sacred nun,
Who, disciplined, ay, dieted in grace,
Believed her eyes when they to assail begun,
All vows and consecrations giving place:
O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,
In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
For thou art all, and all things else are thine.

”When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
How coldly those impediments stand forth
Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame!
Love’s arms are peace, ‘gainst rule, ‘gainst sense,
‘gainst shame,
And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears,
The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.

”Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine;
And supplicant their sighs to you extend,
To leave the battery that you make ‘gainst mine,
Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath
That shall prefer and undertake my troth.’

‘This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,
Whose sights till then were levell’d on my face;
Each cheek a river running from a fount
With brinish current downward flow’d apace:
O, how the channel to the stream gave grace!
Who glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses
That flame through water which their hue encloses.

‘O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear!
But with the inundation of the eyes
What rocky heart to water will not wear?
What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.

‘For, lo, his passion, but an art of craft,
Even there resolved my reason into tears;
There my white stole of chastity I daff’d,
Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;
Appear to him, as he to me appears,
All melting; though our drops this difference bore,
His poison’d me, and mine did him restore.

‘In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
In either’s aptness, as it best deceives,
To blush at speeches rank to weep at woes,
Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows.

‘That not a heart which in his level came
Could ‘scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
Showing fair nature is both kind and tame;
And, veil’d in them, did win whom he would maim:
Against the thing he sought he would exclaim;
When he most burn’d in heart-wish’d luxury,
He preach’d pure maid, and praised cold chastity.

‘Thus merely with the garment of a Grace
The naked and concealed fiend he cover’d;
That th’ unexperient gave the tempter place,
Which like a cherubin above them hover’d.
Who, young and simple, would not be so lover’d?
Ay me! I fell; and yet do question make
What I should do again for such a sake.

‘O, that infected moisture of his eye,
O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow’d,
O, that forced thunder from his heart did fly,
O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow’d,
O, all that borrow’d motion seeming owed,
Would yet again betray the fore-betray’d,
And new pervert a reconciled maid!’

O Mistress Mine – William Shakespeare

Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene III

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear! your true-love’s coming
That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journey’s end in lovers’ meeting-
Every wise man’s son doth know.

What is love? ’tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What’s to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty,-
Then come kiss me, Sweet and twenty,
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.

A Fairy Song – William Shakespeare

Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire!
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon’s sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green;
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours;
In those freckles live their savours;
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.

All the World’s a Stage – William Shakespeare

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

कथा – सम्बन्धका दूरी

उसलाई आश्चार्य लागिरहेको थियो आज राति ओछ्यान पटक्कै बिझाएन । उठ्दा गर्धन र शीर दुखेको थिएन । हलुङ्गो महसुस गरिरहेकी थिई ऊ । उसले ओछ्यानको तन्ना तनक्क तन्काई । बुट्टेदार तन्नामाथि दुई सिरानीहरुलाई मिलाएर राखि । उसलाई आफ्नो ओछ्यानमाथि बुट्टेदार तन्नाको ताजापन साहै प्यारो लाग्छ । अनि टेबुलमाथिको चाँदीको प्रुेमभित्रबाट फोटो बाहिर निकालि स्वयंवरको ।

उसको झण्डै चार बर्ष अगाडि दिवशसँग बिवाह भएको थियो । दिवशको खान्दानी संस्कारमा घरका महिला वर्गले जागिर खाने चलन थिएन । पढेलेखेको परिवार भएर पनि घरका महिलाहरुले बाहिर काम गर्न सरकारी जागिर खान नपाउने परम्परावादी नियमलाई उल्लङ्गघन गर्ने हिम्मत कसैले गरेका थिएनन् । उसको घरमा बिवाहको प्रस्ताव लिएर आउँदा नै केटाकी माईजुले भनेकी थिईन -“घरमा आएका पाहुनालाई पानी पिउन िदंदा पनि सर्वत जस्तो मिठो हुने गरी दिने सुन्दर केटी चाहिएको छ । बेस्सरी सम्पत्ति छदैछ । आईमाईले कमाउने चलनै छैन । जेठी र माईली बुहारीले पनि बी।ए। एम।ए। पढेका छन् तर घरै सिगांरेर बसेका छन् ।� आफूहरुले जीवन जिउन बेस्सरी गर्नु परेको दःुखको झझल्को शायद मेटिनसकेकोले होला थुप्रो सम्पत्ति छ भन्ने कुराले आमा-बाबु लोभिएर उसलाई बिवाह गरि दिएका थिए त्यस घरमा ।

उसले झण्डै एक बर्ष त पानीलाई सर्वत जस्तै मिठो हुने गरी बाँडि । बिहानै उठ्नु नुहाई -धुवाई सकेर सासुलाई पूजाको तयारी गरिदिनु आफ्नो सिङ्गारपटार गरेर बिहानदेखि रातिको खाना-पिना नसकिन्जेल भान्साभित्रको काममा तल्लिन रहनु उसको दिनचर्या थियो । प्रत्येक दिन बुढा ससुरालाई हेर्न आउने सासु-ससुराका पुराना ईष्टमित्र खेतीबाट आएका हरुवा-चरुवा आफन्त आदिको लस्करै हुन्थ्यो । यति भएपछि घरका बुहारीहरु जति नै पढेका भएपनि भान्साभन्दा बाहिरी कामका लागि निस्कन नै कहाँ सक्थे र यस्तो समय धेरै रहिरहन पाएन । दाजु-भाइबीच व्यवहारमा हानाथाप स-साना कुरामा बढ्दै गएको असमझदारीले दिक्क भएर ससुराले तीनै भाईलाई अलग गरिदिनु भयो । सासु-ससुराले पनि घरको जेठो छोरो नै असल छ भनेर उनैसँग बस्ने निधो गरे । जग्गा निकै थियो तर सबै जग्गामा मोहियानी लागेर आफ्नो भागमा धेरै रहन पाएन । फेरी बुढा ससुराको काजकि्रयामा पनि तेह् जना ब्राम्हणहरुलाई जग्गा नै दान गरिएको थियो । काठमाडौमा पनि आठ रोपनी जग्गा नभएको होईन तर दुईटी छोरीहरुको बिवाहमा धितो राखेर लिएको ऋण समयमा नतिरेकाले लिलामीमा परेको थियो । त्यो ऋण सबै छोराहरुले मिलेर समयमा तिरेका भए राजधानीको त्यत्रो सम्पत्ति लिलामीमा परेर गुमाउनु पर्ने थिएन भन्ने गुनासो ससुराको अझै बाँकी छ ।

दिवश पेशाले अधिवक्ता थिए । मूलघरबाट छुट्टिएको केही महिना पछि नै त्यहाँको बसाई उनलाई असजिलो हुन थाल्यो । वकालतको चर्को आवश्यकता मोफसललाई भन्दा राजधानीलाई छ भन्ने बहानामा आफूलाई राजधानीतिरै सारे । यथार्थत त्यत्ति सजिलो कहाँ थियो र आफूलाई स्थापित गराउन त्यहाँ । निकै समय बितिसक्दा पनि दिवशको वकालत पेशाले गति लिन सकिरहेको थिएन । फलतः व्यवहारमा आर्थिक संकट हावी भएको आभास दुवैमा हुन थालिसकेको थियो । यद्यपी सन्तानको लागि भने खर्च गर्नु परेको थिएन । बिवाह पछि पटक-पटक गर्भ रहेको थियो उसको तर अडिन सकेको थिएन । डाक्टरलाई देखाउँदा औषधि खाएर अझैकेही समय धैर्य गर्न सल्लाह दिएका थिए ।

खान्दनी ढाँचा अनुसार चल्न मधेशको खेतीबाट बर्षमा एकपटक हात लाग्ने सिमित आयले कत्ति नै पो पुग्थयो र दिवशको आम्दानीको स्रोत पनि खासै निश्चित नहुदा संङ्गोलको बसाईको रमझम संझनामा कहिलेकाही आउन थालेको थियो ।

बुबाले घर चलाउनुहुन्थ्यो । तीनै छोराहरुले आम्दानीको केही भाग घरखर्चमा छुट्याउँथे । घर पनि बडेमानकै थियो । अनि सम्पत्तिको भागभण्डा नभएको हुदा आर्थिक अभाव कुन चराको नाम हो कसैलाई थाहा थिएन । त्यसमा पनि सधै कान्छो छोरो भएर खाएको दिवशलाई सपना जस्तो लाग्न थालेको थियो । समय एकैनाशको कहाँ रहन्छ र भाग भण्डासगै पुस्तैनि सम्पन्नता पनि बाँडिन गयो ।

घरको आर्थिक समस्या देखेर धेरै दिनदेखि आफूलाई काम गर्न मन लागेको बारेमा दिवशसँग कुरा राख्न खोजिरहेकी थिई ऊ तर हिम्मत जुटेको थिएन । खान्दानी चलनको हरबखत गर्व गर्ने आफ्नो लोग्ने हुनसक्छ उसको प्रस्तावलाई तुरुन्तै नकार्ने छ । ऊ भित्र डर थियो । “यदि हजुरले अन्यथा नमान्ने हो भने मलाई क्याम्पसमा पढाउने अफर आएको छ के मलाई अनुमति दिनसक्नुहुन्छ “श्रीमानको बोझ घटाउने उदेश्यले एक दिन हिम्मत जुटाएर सोधी उसले । प्रतिउत्तरमा मौनता मात्र छायो ।

आफ्नो क्षमतालाई घरको ढोकाभित्र बन्द गरेर नगर्नु पर्ने दुःख गरेर बस्नु लाचारीको दोस्रो रुप ठान्थी ऊ । तर उसले दिवशकेा अनुमतिलाई धेरै दिन पर्खिई अहँ उसले सहमति जनाएन । परम्परागत मान्यताको खिया लागेको लोग्नेको मानसिकतालाई धिक्कार्न बाहेक अरु के नै गर्न सक्थी र !

पन्ध्र दिन भित्रमा निर्णय नसुनाए अरुलाई नेै स्थान दिईने कुरा क्याम्पस प्रमुखले बताएका थिए । बिचरीले त्यो मौका पनि क्याम्पस प्रमुख आफ्नै नाता पर्ने भएकाले पाएकी थिई । दिवशको अनुमतिको पर्खाइमा तोकिएको दिन बितिसक्न लाग्दासम्म पनि उसले कुनै जवाफ पाईन । ूभोलि बिहानदेखि म पढाउन सुरु गर्दे छु । यो निर्णय मैले घरको आर्थिक बोझ घटाउने बिचारले गरेकी हुँ । हाम्रो भविष्य पनि त छ । मेरो क्षमताले केही गर्न सक्छु भने किन उपयोग नगर्ने � उसले आफ्नो निर्णय सुनाई । “जुन घरकी बुहारी भएर आएकी छौ त्यो घरको संस्कार चालचलनको मर्यादा भित्र रहनु तिम्रो कर्तव्य हो । खान लाउन मैले दिन नसकेका दिन सोचौला ।” दिवश गम्भिर भएर बोल्यो । उसलाई असैह्य भयो । ऊ आफ्नो लोग्नेको तर्कसँग पटक्कै सहमत हुन सकिरहेकी थिईन ।

“स्वावलम्बि हुनुले कुनै पनि घरको मर्यादालाई नकारात्मक आँच पुर् याउँदैन । यदि कसैलाई त्यस्तो लाग्छ भने त्यो मात्र भ्रम हो । दिनभर घरमा निकम्मा भएर बस्न म पटक्कै चाहन्न । बच्चा पनि छैनन् । सकारात्मक भएर सोच्ने हो भने दुवै दम्पत्तिले नोकरी गर्नु सामाजिक प्रतिष्ठाको कुरा पनि हो ।” ऊ आफ्नो अडानमा दृढ रहि । दिवश मात्र सुनिरहेको थियो । दुबैले आफ्नो अडान नछाड्दा समझदारी आखिरमा केही गरी हुन सकेन । दिवशको खान्दानी संस्कार उसका लागि घरको आर्थिक अभावभन्दा महत्वपूर्ण हुन सकेन । अन्तत ः उसले नोकरी शुरु गरी । नोकरी शुरु गरेकै दिनदेखि दिवशले उसका घरपरिवारबाट कडा प्रतिकि्रया खप्नु परेको कुरा उसलाई सुनायो । त्यसैका कारण दुईबीच चिसोपन बढ्न थाल्यो । हरेक रात नानाथरीका कुराले आफ्नी श्रीमतीलाई सताउनु उसको दैनिकी भयो । घर ढिलो फर्किने कहिले खबरै नगरी दुई-चार दिन बाहिरै बिताउन थालेको दिवशले धेरै भैसकेको थियो । जसलाई उसले सामान्य मान्न थालेकी थिई ।

मंगलबारको दिन थियो त्यो । दिउँसोको एक बजे ऊ क्याम्पसबाट घर फर्किसकेकी थिई । त्यही समय पारेर दिवश घर आयो । हाउभाउले ऊ एकदमै हतारिए झै देखिन्थ्यो । उसले अचम्म मानेर आफ्नो लोग्नेलाई हेरी । ऊ आज बिल्कुलै भिन्न लागिरहेको थियो । आँखामा चमक थियो ओठमा मुस्कान भरिएको थियो । उसले आफ्नो लोग्नेको ओठमा मुस्कान नदेखेको महिनौ बितिसकेको थियो । सायद काम सुरु गरेकै दिनदेखि दिवशको मुस्कान हराएको थियो कि उसलाई हेक्का भने छैन । “एउटा कम्पनी दर्ता गराउनु छ तिम्रो नाममा खै छिट्टै साईन गरिदेउ त ।”हातमा पानीको गिलास लिदै उसले भन्यो । “कस्तो कम्पनी अनि किन यति हतारमा पहिले त केही कुरा गर्नु भएको थिएन ” एक्कासि सधैभन्दा पृथक मुद्रामा देखिएको लोग्नेलाई उसले विश्वाश गर्न सकिरहेकी थिईन । “हत्तेरीका एक घण्टाभित्रमा दर्ता गराएन भने यो मौका अर्कैले लिनेछ । यत्तिका दिन भैसक्यो मेरो टाउको यसले खाएको । कत्ति पीर थियो मलाई यसको । छिटो गर न ! म भरे सबै प्रतिलिपी लिएर आँउछु अनि सबै बेलिबिस्तार लगाउँला ।”जोशिएर बोल्यो ऊ । मानौ ठूलै कम्पनिको मालिक भैसक्यो ।

उसले केही बुझिन । तैपनि लोग्नेमा देखिएको उत्साहलाई कदर गर्नु आफ्नो कर्तव्य ठानेर हतारमै सम्पूर्ण कागजमाथि हस्ताक्षर गरीदिई । अनायशै ऊ पनि आज फुरुङ्ग थिई लोग्नेको स्फूर्ति देखेर । बेलुकी लोग्ने कतिबेला घर फर्केला र सबैकुरा थाहा पाउँला भनेर दिनभरी उसले आँखा बाटोतिरै बिच्छ्याई । साँझ पर् यो घर फर्किने मान्छेहरुको लस्करले बाटो ढाकिएको थियो । मधुरो उज्यालोमा आँखाले भ्याईन्जेल लस्करभित्र उसले दिवशलाई नियाली तर ऊ भेटिएन । कहिलेकाही त रातको एक बजे पनि घर फर्किन्थ्यो । त्यसैले मध्यरातसम्म उसले पर्खिरही । यसरी नै कैयांैं दिन र रात पर्खाईमा बिते तर दिवश आएन ।

यसरी अचानक हराएको लोग्ने बीस दिन पछि घर फर्कियो । उसलाई देखेर उसका आँखा रसाएनन् उसलाई खुशीको झट्का पनि लागेन उसले मात्र हेरिरही । त्यसै पनि दुईबीचको सम्बन्ध चिसिदै गएको थियो । त्यसैले लोग्नेको अनुपस्थितिले उसलाई खासै फरक परेको थिएन । तर एका-एक कम्पनी दर्ता गराउन भनेर सहीछाप लिएर हिडेको लोग्नेको लामो अनुपस्थितिले भने उसलाई सताईरहेको थियो । यसपटकको दिवशको आगमन कुनै एक अपरिचितको झै थियो । मानौ उसले पहिलो पटक कसैसँग चिनाजानी गर्दैछ । उसले हातमा बोकेको सानो ब्यागबाट एउटा खाम झिकेर श्रीमती तिर तेस्र्यायो । कौतुहलतापूर्वक हतारिदै खाम खोलि । उसका आँखाले पृष्ठको मध्यतिर दृष्टि नपुर् याउँदै ऊ अवगत भैसकेकी थिई । दिवशले कम्पनी दर्ता गराउन तेस्र्याएका कागजातहरु त सम्बन्ध बिच्छेदका पो रहेछन् । परपुरुषसँगको सम्बन्धका कारण दुईबीचको सम्बन्धलाई अन्त्य गर्न राजी भएको व्यहोरा लेखिएको थियो ।

दिवशले पटक -पटक उसकै सहकर्मी शुरेशको बारेमा प्रसङ्ग उठाएर घरमा तनाव उत्पन्न गराउनाको कारण उसले बल्ल मात्र बुझी । यहाँ उसका ओठहरुले दिवशप्रति आक्रोश व्यक्त गर्ने उत्साह देखाएनन् । तर उसका हर धड्कनले घृणा गरिरहेको थिए । लोग्नेको तुच्छ मानसिकता र दम्भि चरित्रसँग उसलाई प्रतिवाद गर्न मन लागेन । आखिर स्वास्नीको वफादारीतालाई क्षण-क्षणमा लत्याउने एक पुरुषपात्रको आडमा जीवन बिताउन पक्कै सजिलो छैन भन्ने बुझ्न उसलाई अन्ततः धेरैबेर लागेन । त्यसैले सम्बन्ध बिच्छेदको प्रतिवाद गर्नुभन्दा स्वीकार्नु नै उचित ठानी उसले । सम्बन्ध बिच्छेदको निर्णयले क्षतबिक्षत भई पश्चातापको ज्वालामा लपेटिएर ऐया-आत्था गर्दै उसले चिच्याएको हेर्ने प्रवल ईच्छा बोकेर आएको दिवश प्रतिउत्तरमा श्रीमतीको मौनता र आत्मविश्वास देखेर अर्काे एकपटक अपमानित हुनपुग्यो । उसले मौनतामै सहजसाथ स्वीकारेको देखेर घरबाट बाहिर निस्कियो । तर उसको मनमा लोग्ने बिनाको भोलि कसरी सामु आईदिने हो भन्ने अज्ञात छटपटीले हलचल मच्चाई रह्यो ।

सम्बन्धबिच्छेदको पहिलो प्रभात । दिनचर्याको शुरुवातमा सधै झै छेवैमा राखेको घडीले किरिरिर्र� किरिरिर्र� आवाज दियो । हतारिदै उसका आँखा खुले । ऊ मन नलागि-नलागि उठी । हिजो रात बिगतले निकैबेरसम्म मानसपटललाई नमिठो स्पर्श गरेकोले झण्डै आधा रात कटेपछि मात्र उसका नयन जोडिएका थिए । मनमा अनौठो अनुभूति लहरिरहेथ्यो । फरक्क् फर्किएर रात बिताएको ओछ्यानलाई हेरी त्यो साम्रा्रज्यवादीहरुबाट मुक्ति पाएको कुनै राज्यभन्दा कम थिएन ।

बिवाहमा बुबाले मेचीबाट मगाएर दिनु भएको चाँपको पलङ्ग थियो त्यो । सिरानी र डसना पनि सिमलको नरम भुवाका थिए । तैपनि पलङ्गमाथिका ती सिरानी र डसनाले बिगतका रातहरुमा धेरै बिझाए उसलाई । कहिले नरम सिरानी पनि ढुगां जस्तो भएर बिहान उठ्दा गर्धन र शीर असाध्यै दुखेको हुन्थ्यो । कहिले मुलायम डसनामाथि अनायसै पैदा हुने गाँठागुठी बिझाएर रातभर सुत्नै अफ्ठ्यारो हुन्थ्यो । आखिर माईतीको माया न हो विवाहमा पाएको त्यो चिनोलाई फ्याँक्न सकिरहेकी थिईन ।

लोग्नेसँग छुट्टिएको पहिलो प्रभातमा सम्पूर्ण फरकहरुलाई नियाल्न मन लाग्यो उसलाई । उसले झ्यालको पर्दा उघारी । सुन्दर बिहानी पहिले जस्तै कलिलो घामसँगै झुल्किएको थियो । सडकका पेटीहरु त्यसरी नै लमतन्न भई बटुवाको स्वागत गरिरहेका थिए । मन्दिर परिसरमा घण्टीहरु उसरी नै बजिरहेका थिए अनन्तसम्म ध्वनि गुाजाएर । चराहरु खुला आकाशमा उडिरहेका थिए स्वतन्त्रताको उपभोग गर्दै ।

आखिर फरक केहीमा भेटिन उसले । शायद फरक आफूमा पो आयो कि भन्ने डर थियो उसलाई । त्यसैले पलङ्ग छेउ राखेको ठूलो ऐना अगाडि उभिई ऊ । मनले निर्दोष ऐनासँग केही वैमनश्यता नभएको निक्र्योल गरेपनि त्रसित उसका आँखाहरु भने बन्द थिए । उसले बिस्तारै आँखाहरु खोली । त्यो ऐनाले उसलाई यसरी बिम्वित गर् यो कि ऊ मुक्त थिई ।

कथा – लोप जीन

श्रवणकुमार उसको नाम होइन । धार्मिक कथामा बाबुआमाप्रति अनन्य भक्तिका नायक जो दशरथद्वारा मारिएका थिए, अयोध्याका राजा । तर, ऊ जहाँ बस्छ त्यहाँका छरछिमेकहरू उसलाई श्रवणकुमार भनी सम्झन्छन् ।

ऊ उमेर गएका बाबुआमासित पोखरामा बस्छ । दुवै ८० लागेका ।

ऊ रवि हो । सामान्य नाम । आकाशको घामसित कुनै सरोकार छैन । सायद धर्मले हिन्दू र कर्मले पावनसिन्धु । बाबुआमाले ढिलो, ५० तिर छोरो पाउँदा सूर्य भगवान्झैँ प्रतापी होस् भन्ने प्रतीकात्मक आकाङ्क्षा बोक्छन् ।

सत्तरीतिर लाग्दानलाग्दै बाबु पूरै अन्धो हुन्छ र आमा पूरै अन्धी ।
ऊ हुन्छ श्रवणकुमार नभएर पनि श्रवणकुमार ।
क्याम्पस छुट्छ । र, छुट्छ कम्प्युटर विज्ञानमा सफ्टवेयर पायोनियर बन्ने महान् सपना पनि ।
तर, ऊ छुटेको सपनाले उदास भए पनि भेटेको विपनाले दुःखी हुँदैन । ऊ त्यस साँचोको मान्छे हुन्छ, जो बौद्धिक वातावरणमा पनि अनुकूलता प्राप्त गर्न सक्छ । उसलाई एउटै दुःख हुन्छ, ऊ बाबुआमाका गुमेका आँखा फिर्ता ल्याउन केही गर्न सक्दैन ।

सकेजति आशा बोकी ऊ बाबुआमालाई देशका सबैजसो आँखा अस्पतालहरूमा पुर्‍याउँछ, श्रवणकुमारले झैँ खर्पनमा राखी होइन, भाडाका गाडीहरूमा राखी । तर, सबै व्यर्थ ।

बाबुआमाले सजिलै स्वीकार गर्छन्, यो उनीहरूको भाग्य हो, कुनै रोग होइन र अरू आँखा परीक्षण गर्न जान अस्वीकार गर्छन् । सबभन्दा राम्रो आशा नहराएर अनन्य भक्त छोरो रिसाइदिन्छ । स्वाभाविक नै हो ।

“यहीँको एउटा अस्पतालमा एक जना जान्ने डाक्टर आएको छ, किन नजचाउने त ?” रिसाइसकेपछि छोरो फेरि रिसाउँदैन । “छोरा, हामी बूढाबूढी भइसक्याँै । बुढ्यौलीको कुनै उपचार हुँदैन ।” परम्परागत अन्धविश्वास ! फेरि नरिसाएको छोरो रिसाउँछ ।

“नरिसाऊ छोरा । हामी बाबुआमाको साँचो भक्ति गर्छौं भने हाम्रो अन्तिम इच्छा पूरा गरिदेऊ …।” ऊ बुझ्छ अविवाहित छोरोसित मायालु बाबुआमाको अन्तिम इच्छा के हुनसक्छ, त्यसैले चुप भई बस्छ । उसलाई त्यस्तो केटीमान्छेसित बिहे गर्ने मन हुँदैन, जसलाई ऊ माया गर्दैन । र, माया अझै भएको छैन कसैसित ।

मायाको पर्खाइमा बिहे अपहत्ये हुन्छ । मायाबिनाको बिहे बेकारको बोझ मात्र हुन्छ । अरू शब्दमा । तर, पर्खाइको कुनै सीमा हुँदैन । यदि माया जीवनभर पर्खाइको घटना भयो भने के गर्ने त …।

“छोरा, तिमीलाई थाहा छ हामीसित पर्खिबस्ने समय छैन । हामी डाँडामाथिका घाम, कालका दूतहरू कुनै पनि बेला हामीलाई लिन आउन सक्छन् । त्यसभन्दा पहिले नातिनातिनीका मुख हेर्न पाए …।”

बाबुआमालाई चुप भई बस्ने आवश्यकता हँुदैन, त्यसैले क्रमशः क्रमशः अन्तिम इच्छालाई व्याख्या गरिरहन्छन् ।
बढीमा महिना दिनभित्र ऊ छिमेकको एक केटीमान्छेसित बिहे गर्छ । निश्चय पनि महान् त्याग, जुन समाजले बुझ्दैन ।
बाबुआमा खुसी हुन्छन् । अब उनीहरू एकैपल्ट परत्रका लागि भगवान् भजन र वरत्रका लागि बाजेबजै बन्ने सपना देख्छन् । शौभाग्यवश बुहारी पनि लक्षणकी पर्छे, सासू-ससुरालाई राम्रै सेवा गर्ने खालकी ।

केही महिना बित्छन् खुसीहरूमा र महान् त्यागका सन्तुष्टिहरूमा । तर एक दिन ऊ अर्थात् छोरो रवि अर्थात् लोग्ने रवि बिरामी हुन्छ । पहिले कुनै लक्षण नदेखाएर । ऊ कसैलाई खबर नगरी चिकित्सककहाँ जान्छ ।

“के भयो ?” सोधिन्छ । “थाहा छैन डाक्टर तर म अस्वस्थ महसुस गर्दैछु,” ऊ भन्छ । “त्यसो भए केही नहुनुपर्ने कुराहरू भइरहेछन् । मलाई जाँच्न दिनुहोस् ।” उसलाई भनिन्छ अनि जाँचिन्छ उसको शरीरमा सबैतिर । कुनै रोग देखापर्दैन । “तपाइर्ं स्वस्थ हुनुहुन्छ । आफूलाई अस्वस्थ मान्नु तपाइर्ंको मनोविज्ञान हो ।”

उसलाई उसको जाँचको नतिजा सुनाइन्छ । नतिजा अनपेक्ष्ाित हुन्छ, अपि्रय हुँदैन । ऊ खुसीखुसी घर जान्छ र खुसीखुसी आफ्नो अस्वस्थताको कुरा बिर्सन खोज्छ । तर, बिर्सन सकिँदैन ।

“के भयो ?” यसपालि चिकित्सकले होइन, बाबुआमाले सोध्छन् चिन्तित भई । “केही भएको छैन । म एकदम ठीक छु । चिन्ता गर्नुपर्दैन ।” ऊ भन्छ, बाबुआमाका चिन्तादेखि चिन्तित भई । “छोरा, तिमी हाम्रो बुढेसकालका सहारा हौ …।” बाबुआमाले चिन्ता गर्न छोड्दैनन् । अनन्य भक्त छोरोले बाबुआमाको कुरालाई स्वार्थ भनी बुझ्न मन पराउँदैन । त्यसै दिन बाबुआमाले थाहा पाउने गरी ऊ बाहिरतिर घुम्न निस्कन्छ ।

“डाक्टर, म साह्रै नै अस्वस्थता महसुस गर्दैछु । मेरो मनोविज्ञान ठीक छ ।”
“विश्वासपूर्वक भन्दै हुनुहुन्छ ?”
“अवश्य ।” तर, चिकित्सकलाई विश्वास पर्दैन ।
“ठीक छ, म फेरि जाँच्नेछु । ढुक्क भई बस्नुहोस् । चिन्ता गरी आफ्नो एम्युन प्रणालीलाई असफल नपार्नुहोस्,” चिकित्सकले भन्छ अनि आफ्नो काम थाल्छ । उसलाई एक विशेष यामीय उपकरण ९च्यदयतष्अ भ्त्रगष्ऊभलत० भित्र राखिन्छ । ऊ बुझ्छ, यो सामान्य जाँच होइन, माने केही गम्भीर र खर्चालु कुरा छ ।
“न्भलभतष्अ म्ष्कयचमभच” यामीय उपकरणले नतिजा प्रकाशित गरिदिन्छ तर कुन खालको प्रकाशित गर्न सक्दैन ।
ऊ बुझछ, जीनमा गडबडी … ।
“ठीक छ … । तपाईंलाई मानवजीन थेरापी आवश्यक छ ।” चिकित्सक भन्छ । आफ्नो योग्यताको कुनै तहमा अन्योलग्रस्त भई । जब ऊ अस्पताल भर्ना हुन्छ, अन्धाअन्धी बाबुआमाबाट यो कुरा लुकाउन सफल हँुदैन । उनीहरू हाहाकारमा पर्छन् । रुन्छन् । बेस्सरी रुन्छन् । उनीहरूका नदेख्ने आँखाहरूबाट देखिने आँसुका खोला बग्छन् । ऊ विश्वास दिलाउने प्रयास गर्छ, उसको रोग गम्भीर छैन । त्यसैले चिन्ता चिन्ताहीन छ, शोक शोकहीन छ, दुःख दुःखहीन छ । ईश्वरमाथि भरोसा राख्नुपर्छ, जसलाई प्रार्थना गरिन्छ । अन्धाअन्धी बाबुआमा ईश्वरमाथि भरोसा राख्छन् र बलिन्द्रधारा आँसुका प्रार्थना गर्छन् । अस्पतालको शय्यामा साताभरि नै केही फरक कुरा हुन्छ । ऊ अर्थात् छोरा रवि कुनै उपचारमा गुज्रँदैन । कुरो स्पष्ट छ, मानवजीन थेरापी भनेको जीन स्थानान्तरण ९न्भलभ त्चबलकाभच० द्वारा रोगोपचार गर्ने विधि हो र यस्तो पहिलो परीक्षण सन् १९९० मा सुरु गरिएको थियो । रोगीको ब्मभलयकष्लभ म्भamष्लबकभ न्भलभ लाई द्यymउजयअथतभक मा स्थानान्तरण गरेर । किनभने यो सन्जाइमदोष Immगलभ म्भाष्अष्भलअथ तर्फ लक्षित थियो र अत्यन्त घातकसिद्ध हुन्थ्यो । तर, यहाँ खास रोग पत्ता लागेकै छैन । कुन रोगको उपचार गर्न कुन जीन स्थानान्तरण गर्ने ? अनि कहाँ ?…

ऊ चिकित्सकका निम्ति एक प्रयोगको वस्तु भइदिन्छ र आफ्ना निम्ति एक गम्भीर पाठक । विषय मात्र जेनेटिक्स ।
जीन- सन् १९०९ मा सबभन्दा पहिलो डब्ल्यू जोहानसेनद्वारा नाम दिइएको ।
मेन्डल, डब्ल्यूएस सूट्टन- जीनका शास्त्रीय धारणाहरू ।
टीएच मोर्गन- ड्रोसोफिला मेलानो गाष्ट्रकमाथि प्रयोगात्मक कार्य ।
क्रोकोजोम- त्यो माध्यम, जसबाट वशंानुगत गुणहरू सर्दै जान्छन् एक पुस्तादेखि अर्को पुस्तासम्म ।
मोर्गनको क्रोमोजोम सिद्धान्त ९ऋचomयकomभ त्जभययथ या क्ष्लजभचष्तबलअभ०- यो धारणा राख्छ कि क्रोमोजोमहरू पृथक् एकाइहरूबाट बनेका हुन्छन्, जसलाई जीन भनिन्छन् ।

जीनहरू नै विशेष गुणहरूका यथार्थ संवाहक हुन् ।
जीन उत्परिवर्तन ९न्भलभ ःगतबतष्यल० जीनको रसायनिक संरचना- डीएनए अणुहरू ।
डीएनए संरचना र द्विगुमान/क्भाि म्गउष्अिबतष्यल ।
सन्देशवाहक आरएनए ।
स्ट्रक्चरता जीन, रेगुलेटरी जीन ।
जेनेटिक कोड र प्रोटिन सिन्थेसिसको नियन्त्रण ।
जीन कन्भर्सन/जीन सक्सप्रेसन/जीन म्यानिप्युलेसन/जीन ब्याङ्क/जीन लाइब्रेरी/जीन फ्लो/जीन पुल/जेनेटिक डि्रफ्ट/जेनेटिक लोड/जेनेटिक म्यापिङ्/जेनेटिक भेरिएसन/जेनेटिक स्प्लाइसिङ्/-ट्रान्सडक्सन)
ऊ आफूलाई पूरै जीनको ब्रह्माण्डमा हराइदिन्छ । र, सोच्छ भावुक कवि भएर कि ऊ जीनको एक सानो पृथ्वी हो । तर, उसलाई के भएको छ ?
यसपालि चिकित्सकले उसलाई सोध्दैन, उसले चिकित्सकलाई सोध्छ ।
“वंशानुगत दोष,” चिकित्सकले जानकारी दिन्छ ।
“त्यो भनेको के हो त ?” उसले सोध्छ ।
“वंशानुगत दोष भनेको तपाईंको निशेषिच कोषको क्रोमोजोम जीनमा भएको दोष हो । मेरो आसय जाइगोट् सेल ।”
“के मैले बुझ्नुपर्छ जन्मभन्दा पहिले मैले अपराध गरेको थिएँ ?”
“होइन, होइन, त्यसरी नलिनुहोला । विज्ञानको सत्यतालाई भावनामा लिनुहुँदैन ।” चिकित्सक भन्छ । ऊ केही भन्दैन । उसलाई जे बुझ्नु हुन्छ पहिले नै बुझिसकेको हुन्छ । अर्को दिन अर्थात् भोलिपल्ट जब अन्धाअन्धी बाबुआमा उसको स्वास्नीको सहारा लिई उसलाई भेट्न आइपुग्छन्, ऊ बोल्न अस्वीकार गरिदिन्छ । उनीहरू बुझ्न सक्दैनन् उनीहरूको एक मात्र छोरोलाई के भइरहेछ … ।

“छोरा, हामीलाई हाम्रो मृत्यु हुनुभन्दा पहिले यसरी नमारिदेऊ…। नमारिदेऊ…। दया गर छोरा…. ।” अन्धाअन्धी बाबुआमा बिलौना गर्छन् । त्यसले उसलाई विस्फोट गराइदिन्छ ।

“मूर्ख अन्धाअन्धी ! आफ्ना अपराधी जीनहरूद्वारा आँसु नबगाउनु । म घीन मान्छु दुवैलाई ।”
स्वास्नीलाई विश्वास लाग्दैन ऊ के सुन्छे । अन्धाअन्धी बाबुआमालाई विश्वास लाग्दैन उनीहरू के अनुभव गर्छन् । तर, जीवनका यथार्थ विश्वासहरू र अविश्वासहरूभन्दा परै हुन्छ । यथार्थ घटित भइसकेको हुन्छ । कुरा त्यति नै हो ।

उसको रोगको लक्षण के हुन्छ भने कुनै लक्षण हुँदैन, अरू जीनसम्बन्धी कारणले हुने रोगहरूमा जस्तै- एजभलथपिभतयलगचष्ब। क्ष्अपभ-अिभिि ब्लझष्ब, त्बथ-क्बअजक, क्उष्लब द्यषष्मब ध्बतभच यल तजभ द्यचबष्ल आदि चिकित्सकलाई थाहा हँुदैन कसरी नवः आविष्कृत वंशानुगत गुण विक्षेपण ९त्भिचष्मष्तबचथ त्चबष्तक त्चबलsmष्ककष्यल० दोषहरूलाई सच्याउन सकिन्छ । यामीय उपकरणद्वारा साङ्केतीत समस्या के समाधानरहित छ त… ?

पहिलेझैँ नै रोगीले याने उसले अस्वस्थताको अनुभव गरिरहन्छ -अनुभव रोगको लक्षण होइन) र कहिलेकाहीँ पसिनाले नुहाइन्छ -पसिना रोगको लक्षणभन्दा बढी श्रमको लक्षण नभए मनोविज्ञान हुन्छ) । यसरी समय आशालाग्दो निराशामा चलिरहन्छ ।

यी दिनहरूमा पनि ऊ दुःखी बाबुआमाप्रति बदलिएको व्यवहार बदल्दैन । यो उसको त्यही बुझाइको प्रतिक्रिया हुन्छ कि उसको जीवन अरू केही होइन, बाबुआमाका सच्याउन नसकिने भूलहरू हुन् । तब अस्पतालमा बसिरहनुको उपयोगिता के छ ‘गिनिपिग’ भएर ?

केही छैन/केही छैन/केही छैन ।

ऊ आफूलाई अस्पतालबाट छुट्टी गर्छ । उसलाई प्रयोग गरिरहेको चिकित्सकलाई पीडादायक विषयमा पारेर ।
घर । ऊ स्वास्नीलाई चिन्छ । ऊ अन्धाअन्धी बाबुआमालाई चिन्दैन ।
“छोरा, यस्तो व्यवहार गर्नुभन्दा हामी दुईलाई घाँटी निमोठेर मारिदेऊ ।”
बाबुआमा भन्छन् बिलौना गरी गरी अनि असहायतापूर्वक सोच्छन् उनीहरूको एक मात्र छोरोलाई कुनै दुष्ट आत्माले सताएको हुनुपर्छ । श्रवणकुमार श्रवणकुमार नै हुन्छ, दुष्टकुमार हुँदैन …!
उनीहरू अन्धो आँखा चिम्लिएर प्रार्थना गर्छन् ः “प्रभो ! छोरालाई पहिलेझैँ जाति बनाइदिनुहोस् …। बरु हाम्रो ज्यान लिनुहोस् …। हजुरकै शरणागत छौँ …।”
तर, बदलीमा कुनै बदली हुँदैन । ईश्वर पुकारा जारी रहन्छ । आशापूर्वक । हो, विश्वासपूर्वक । जहाँसम्म उसको कुरा हुन्छ याने छोरोको ऊ विस्फोटित भई बस्दैन, मौन भइबस्छ ।

आफूलाई पूरै कोठामा थुनेर । ऊ भेट्न चाहने साथीहरूलाई भेट्दैन । सम्बन्धीहरूलाई भेट्दैन । छिमेकीहरूलाई भेट्दैन । किन भन्ने कुरा कसैले बुझ्दैनन् तर जतिले बुझे भनी ठान्छन् उनीहरू त्यसको सम्बन्ध मनसित जोड्छन्, “त्यस्तै हो मन ठेगानमा नभएपछि …।”

एकदिन स्वेच्छिक काराबासको तेस्रो सातामा ऊ याने छोरोले होइन, लोग्नेले स्वास्नीलाई बोलाई भन्छ, “हेर, म कुनै पनि सन्तानको बाबु बन्न चाहन्न । मेरा जीनहरूबाट जुन मैले सजायको रूपमा पाएको छु । जीनहरूको संसारमा म मेरा जीनहरू सधँैभरिका लागि लोप भइगएको हेर्न चाहन्छु । त्यसैले म तिमीलाई मनपर्ने कसैसित बिहे गरिजाने सल्लाह दिन्छु, क्षमायाचनासहित ।”

त्यस्ता कठोर वचन सुनी कसै गरे पनि असल स्वास्नीले के गर्न सक्छे, रुनुबाहेक ?

स्वास्नी रुन्छे बस्सरी । लोग्ने स्वास्नीलाई आराम पुर्‍याउन केही गर्दैन । पग्लिने त कुरै आएन । ऊ चुप भइबस्छ र आकाशको शून्यतालाई हेरिबस्छ ।

आधा रातमा उसले आफूलाई कोठामाथिको पङ्खामा झुन्ड्याइदिन्छ, सधँैभरिका लागि आफ्ना मानवीय जीनहरू लोप पार्न ।

के यो वंशानुगत भूलसुधार हो त ? मलाई थाहा छैन । मलाई थाहा छ, त्यस परिवारका दुःख र शोकलाई कुनै शब्दहरूमा बयान गर्न सकिँदैन …।

हो छि मिन्हलाई चिठ्ठी – भूपी शेरचन

आशीर्वादजस्तो सिरानीमा उभिएको
माछापुच्छे हिमालको छायामा उभिएर
म तिमीलाई सलामी दिन्छु
तिमीलाई पनि एउटा नयाँ हिमाल मानेर ।
अहिले तिमीलाई यो चिठी लेख्न बस्दा
मेरो कोठाको मौनता
परिणत भएको छ कुनै बौद्ध विहारको शान्तिमा
जहाँ बालेको धूपबाट निस्केका धूवाँझै
बिस्तारै–बिस्तारै उठेर
मेरो अगाडि उभिइरहेछ
तिम्रो बुढो र पातलो शरीर
एउटा अस्पष्ट तर पवित्र अनुहार बोकेर ।
र मलाई अनायास याद आइरहेछ आफ्नो गाउँको
जहाँ एउटा खोला छ —‘लेते खोला’
तिमीजस्तै शान्त र दुब्लो
तर जब त्यो सानो खोलामा बाढी आउँछ
वरिपरिका ठूल्ठूला चट्टानहरुको पनि पाइला डग्मगाउँछ
र बाढी थामिएपछि
त्यसलाई छेक्न खोजेका घमण्डीे पहराहरुले
आफुलाई भत्केको, भास्सिएको र चोइटिएको पाउँछन्
मेरो ‘लेते खोला’ !
म ढुक्क छु
तिम्रो बाढीले पनि मिल्काउनेछ
ती डलरका कात्रो बोकेर
तिम्रो देशमाथि आइलागेका बर्बरहरुलाई ।
भूगोलको परिधिले मलाई बाँधे तापनि
राष्ट्रहरुको बीचका सीमारेखाहरुले
मलाई तिमीसँग बेग्ल्याए तापनि
यी सबभन्दा माथि जहाँ चेतना छ
यी सबभन्दा सच्चा जहाँ मुटुको ढुकढुकी छ
त्यहाँ म तिमीसँग छु
र युद्धमा परेको छु
तिम्रो प्रत्येक घरको भत्काइमा म बेघर भएको छु
तिम्रो प्रत्येक पुलको टुटाइमा म टुटेको छु
तिम्रो प्रत्येक गोल–गोल मङ्गोल अनुहार भएकी
आइमाइको बेइज्जतीमा
मैले आफ्नी पत्नी र दिदी–बहिनीहरुलाई
बाटोमा निर्वस्त्र देखेको छु
तिम्रो प्रत्येक बौद्ध–विहारको विध्वंसमा
मैले आफ्नो स्वयम्भूको ज्ञानचक्षुमा
आँसु उर्लिएको देखेको छु
तिम्रो हनोइमाथिको बमबर्षाको छिर्का
मैले आफ्नो धराहरामाथि परेको अनुभव गरेको छु
र बमबर्षाका रातहरु
मैले पनि जागरणका ट्रेञ्चहरुमा बिताएको छु
को सक्छ निदाउन खरबारीमा
बरिपरि मुढाहरु दन्किरहेको बेलामा !
यी सबभन्दा बर्ता
यी सबभन्दा माथि
मैले तिम्रो प्रत्येक मृत सिपाहीबाट
बाँच्ने दर्शन सिकेको छु
जीवनको अर्थ बुझेको छु
र तिम्रो सानो देशको ठूलो आत्माबाट
मैले आफ्नो सानो आत्माभित्र
एउटा ठूलो ज्योति सल्केको पाएको छु
हनोइमाथिको बम
शहरमाथि होइन, मान्छेमाथि बम हो,
र मैले तथा मजस्तै
सारा मानिसहरुले ती बमहरुलाई
आफुमाथि पड्केको भन्ठानेका छौं
मेरो कामरेड !
मेरो हिमाल !
मेरो ‘लेते खोला’ !
विश्वास गर
मैले तिम्रो जीतको विश्वास गरेको छु
मानिस मर्छन्
जसरी डढेलोमा रुखहरु डढ्छन्
तर मानवता कहिल्यै मर्दैन
त्यो फेरि पलाउँछ
डढेलोपछि उम्रिने असङ्ख्य च्याउहरुजस्तै ।
आशीर्वादजस्तो सिरानीमा उभिएको
माछापुच्छे«को छायामा उभिएर
प्रतिज्ञाजस्तो वरिपरि दृढ उभिएका पहाडहरुलाई
हातेमालो गरेर
म किरिया हाल्ने सामथ्र्यमा छु
जीत तिम्रो हुनेछ
जीत हाम्रो हुनेछ
अन्तरीक्षमा मर्ने कुकुरको शोकमा
गिर्जाघरमा रुने ढाेंगी मानवता
धरतीमा गरेको हत्याको पछुतोमा
आत्महत्या गर्न बाध्य हुनेछ ।

मेरो जीवन लेक झैं – भूपी शेरचन

मेरो जीवन लेकझैं पुरानो थियो
मेरो दुनियाँ
मुर्दा पोल्ने बगरझैं सुनसान थियो
र म आफ्नो जीवनको लेकमा
चमरी गाईको गोठालाझैं एक्लो थिएँ
तर एक–दिन
तिमी मेरो जीवनमा भैंचालाझैं अकस्मात् आयौ
तिमीले मसित प्रीत लायौ
मेरो स्वरमा–स्वर मिलाएर गीत गायौ
मैले बधाई दिएँ आफ्नो यौवनलाई
अन्तमा तिमीले पनि कसैको प्रीत लायौ
तर
जस्तो कि थियो मलाई डर
निरन्तर अपमानित भएको मानिसको हृदयभित्र
अभिमान थाकेझैं
वृद्ध शरीरभित्र प्राण थाकेझैं
तिमी मेरो प्यारमा थाक्यौ
अनि फेरि आउँला भनी
नदीको लहरमा नाचेको पातझैं
भोरको प्रतिक्षामा बाँचेको रातझैं
तिमी बेपत्ता भयौ
कुन्नि कता गयौ
यद्यपि मलाई थाहा थियो
तिमी अब कहिल्यै आउँदिनौ
मेरो स्वरमा स्वर मिलाएर अब तिमीले
कहिल्यै गाउँदिनौ
तैपनि मैले तिम्रो प्रतिक्षा गरेँ
असङ्ख्य मिलनको इच्छा गरेँ
तिमी भने
कुनै अप्रसिद्ध नयाँ लेखकको
प्रथम पुस्तकको दोस्रो संस्करणझैं
वादा गरेर पनि कहिल्यै आइनौ
म भने
आज पनि विना कुनै आशंका
विना कुनै विश्वासको
कुनै कुरुप बूढी कन्याको सिउँदोले
सिन्दूरलाई पर्खेझै्र
तिमीलाई पर्खिरहेछु
किनकी आज म भित्र–भित्रै
हिमशिलाझैं चर्किरहेछु ।

मोधनाथ पश्रित

Modnath Prashrit was born in 1942 in Arghakhanchi District of Western Nepal. He has Master’s degrees in Ayurvedha, Nepali language, and Sanskrit and has published 29 books on social issues and traditional medicine. He received the coveted Madan Puraskar in 1966 and remembers equally fondly the Rs. 5 award given to him for good writing by his headmaster when he was ten years old.

Besides being a writer, Modnath Prashrit is a celebrated political personality. He is an elected member of the Lower House of Parliament and has been Education Minister. He is a polit-bureau member of the influential main opposition party, the Communist Party of Nepal, United Marxist-Leninist (CPN-UML).

His political career is quite interesting. In 1982 he was arrested. He escaped from prison forty days later with six colleagues. He was betrayed by a friend and arrested again. He recalls the torture he received at the hands of the authorities and the conspiracy to murder him and his colleagues in Birgunj prison. While he was fortunate, his friend Shanker Gopali was killed.

A plot was then formed to kill them during prison transfer. Prashrit talks of Kamalraj Regmi, chairperson of Gaon Pharka campaign, who asked that Prashrit be spared. Four persons died “when attempting escape” in Sukhani Forest in Jhapa and four persons in Ekanta Kuna, to name two instances.

Opinions may differ regarding his achievements as a politician but his literature has been able to make a strong impression on the general public. Prashrit was nominated a member of the Royal Nepal Academy recently. However, he refused to join the academy pointing out that the body is politically polarized. He says he loves simplicity of language and complains that contemporary progressive literature of Nepal fails to reach the true depths of humankind and is, therefore, ignored by most of the public because it fails to address their problems and issues.

English Poem – A Daydreaming Evoked by Swallows – Terry Dawson

A Daydreaming Evoked by Swallows
The spring swallows return anew;
I search for the elusive blue.
Sky-rider of unequalled grace,
Conjures to sight likeness of you

My mind drifts now to far off place,
While in my heart an empty space;
Hopes of its cure will be in vain,
‘Crept it be filled by woman’s grace.

And so my thoughts return again
To the blue hills above the plain,
Where resides one who is new hope
To thirsting land of soothing rain.

A cottage stands upon the slope,
Within a girl is making soap.
A garden there with flowers white,
Near by a stream where leaf-boats float.

And through all the dark hours of night,
Visions of her invade my sight,
Fond thoughts of her are my delight;
Fond thoughts which flood my dark with light.

English Poem – The Dancing Girl – Terry Dawson

In an erotic dream I see
A shapely girl dance close to me.
As sensuous slow music plays,
Her slender, lithesome body sways
Like lover lost in extercy,
Delightful in a thousand ways

Dancing with slow rhythmic motion,
Like one performing her devotions
In temple of the love goddess
By subtle move and bold caress
The dancing like the tidal ocean;
Phantasmagoric loveliness!

With seductive swing of ripe hips
She takes up wine glass and sips
Then with an imperious whirl
And toss of hair, that dancing girl
Blows breathless kiss from rose-red lips;
Hair a riot of raven curls!

The tempo of the music grows
The dancing girl she spins and throws
Her vestment off with artful flair…
But oh, what’s this? – oh grim despair…
Awakening brings the dream to close;
The dancing girl gone into thin air!

English Poem – You Don’t Really Miss Me – Marites C. Cayetano

When you miss me,
just look up the sky
and you will find me
among the clouds…
if you fail to find me
that’s because
you don’t really miss me.

When you miss me
I know you will come
no matter how far we are…
if you fail to come
that’s because
you don’t really miss me.

कथा – भाग्य

पत्रपत्रिकामा आलिसान महल बनाउने व्यक्तिको सूचीमा कमरेड किशोरको नाम पनि थियो । कमरेड मोहनले यसलाई अचम्भको घटनाको रूपमा लिएका थिए र स्वाभाविक घटनाको रूपमा पनि । अचम्भको घटना यस अर्थमा कि उनले कहिले सपनामा पनि सोचेका थिएनन् कमरेड किशोर यसरी सुकुम्बासीबाट महलवासी हुन पुग्लान् तर यथार्थ यही थियो । सत्य यही थियो ।

कमरेड मोहनले कमरेड किशोरसित एकसाथ राजनीति सुरु गरेका हुन् भन्दा पनि हुन्छ । त्यतिबेला दुवै जना बनारसमा शास्त्री पढ्दथे । दुवै जना पुष्पलालको सम्पर्कमा आए । उनका राजनीतिक क्लास लिए । उनीहरूलाई कालिदासको शकुन्तला र मेघदूतभन्दा पुष्पलालको राजनीतिक व्याख्यान राम्रो लाग्यो । प्रभावकारी लाग्यो । कालिदासको शकुन्तला र मेघदूत पढ्दा उनीहरूलाई कताकता हराएकोजस्तो लाग्दथ्यो । कताकता जङ्गली युगमा पुगेजस्तो पनि लाग्दथ्यो । कताकता तिलस्मी दुनियाँमा हराएकोजस्तो पनि लाग्दथ्यो तर जब उनीहरूले पुष्पलालको राजनीतिक व्याख्या र विश्लेषण सुन्दथे उनीहरूलाई आफ्नै इतिहास पढेजस्तो लाग्दथ्यो । आफ्नै कथा पढेजस्तो लाग्दथ्यो । कति बेला त उनीहरूलाई शास्त्रीको किताबहरू बनारसको कुनै एउटा गल्लीमा मिल्काएर झोला बोकी नेपालमा तुरुन्त क्रान्ति गर्न जाउँजस्तो पनि लाग्दथ्यो । बन्दुक बोकौाजस्तो पनि लाग्दथ्यो ।

त्यतिबेला नै वी.पी. कोइराला पनि नेपालमा सशस्त्र सङ्घर्ष गर्न भनेर बनारसमा नै पुगेका थिए । उनले सारनाथलाई क्रान्तिको हेडक्वाटरजस्तो बनाएका थिए । वी.पी. कोइरालाको नेपालमा सशस्त्र क्रान्ति गर्ने कुरोले पनि कमरेड किशोर र मोहनलाई थप प्रभाव पारेको थियो । उनीहरूमा जागेको क्रान्तिकारी भावनालाई थप ऊर्जा दिएको थियो ।

त्यतिबेला नै नक्सलवादी आन्दोलनको प्रभावमा नेपालमा झापा विद्रोह भएको थियो । झापालीहरूले सामन्तका टाउका गिाडेर नेपालमा नौलो जनवादी क्रान्ति सम्पन्न गर्ने उद्घोषण गरेका छन् भन्ने कुराको चर्चा बनारसका गल्लीगल्लीमा पनि हुन थालेको थियो । बनारसका पसल पसलमा पनि हुन थालेको थियो । झापा विद्रोहको आवाज सुनेर बनारसमा अध्ययन गरिरहेका कैयौा युवकहरू नेपाल फर्किने मनस्थितिमा पुगेका थिए । झापा विद्रोहको प्रभावमा परेर कति युवकहरूले पुष्पलालले अब नेपालमा क्रान्ति गर्दैनन् भन्न थालेका थिए । यही अवस्थामा कमरेड मोहनविक्रमका गद्दार पुष्पलाल निस्क्यो । गद्दार पुष्पलाल लेखेकोमा कतिले मोहनविक्रमको कडा आलोचना गरे । कतिले भने मोहनविक्रमको गद्दार पुष्पलाललाई राम्रै पुस्तक माने ।

बनारसमा शास्त्री पढ्न बसेका किशोर र मोहनलाई हरेक घटनाले असर पारिरहेको स्थिति थियो । उनीहरूलाई हरेक घटनाले सकारात्मक प्रभाव पनि पारेको थियो । नकारात्मक प्रभाव पनि ।

पुष्पलालले नेपालमा क्रान्ति गर्दैनन् कमरेड । क्रान्ति गर्ने भनेको झापालीहरूले नै हो । पुष्पलाललाई मोहनविक्रम पनि संशोधनवादी भन्छन् । झापालीहरूले पनि संशोधनवादी भन्छन् । पुष्पलाल पक्कै संशोधनवादी रहेछन् । संशोधनवादीहरूले कहिले क्रान्ति गर्न सक्दैनन् । हामीले कि पुष्पलालबाट विद्रोह गरेर अर्को छुट्टै क्रान्तिकारी पार्टी बनाउनुपर्दछ कि नेपाल गएर झापाली हुनुपर्दछ । बन्दुक बोक्न पर्दछ । दूध विनायकको एउटा चिया पसलमा बसेर गद्दार पुप्पलाल लेखेको पुस्तकका पाना पल्टाउँदै कमरेड किशोरले निकै जोसिादै भने ।

कमरेडका कुरा मैले गलत मान्दिन तर म अहिले न पुष्पलाललाई छोड्ने मनस्थितिमा छु न त नेपालमा गएर बन्दुक नै बोक्ने अवस्थामा । चिया पसलमा राखेको दैनिक जागरण पल्टाउँदै भने मोहनले ।

मनमा क्रान्तिको ज्वाला उठेपछि त्यो शान्त हुन सक्दोरहेनछ । कसैको मनमा एक किसिमले क्रान्तिको भूत चढेपछि त्यो त्यत्तिकै चुपचाप बस्न सक्दोरहेनछ । सायद यही भएर पनि होला कमरेड किशोर एक सााझ बनारसबाट रेल चढेर नेपालको साइत गरे ।

नेपाल पुग्नेबित्तिकै उनको सम्पर्क झापालीहरूको राजनीतिक सङ्गठन कोकेसित हुन पुग्यो । पछि कोके हुँदै उनी माले हुन पुगे । त्यतिबेला भूमिगत पार्टीको रूपमा क्रियाशील नेकपा मालेको नेता मात्र होइन कार्यकर्ता हुनु पनि निकै धैरै गौरवका कुरा थियो । त्यतिबेला कति मान्छेहरू भन्ने गर्दथे नेपालमा यदि कसैले क्रान्ति गर्छ भने त्यो माले पार्टीले गर्दछ । झापालीहरूले नै गर्दछन् । अरूले त क्रान्तिका कुरा गर्ने मात्र छन् । क्रान्ति गर्ने रहर गर्ने मात्र हो ।

भूमिगत रहेर दिन रात पार्टीको काम गर्ने क्रममा कमरेड किशोरले आफ््नो विवाह गर्न पनि बिर्सेका थिए । आफ्नो घर परिवार पनि बिर्सेका थिए

केही वर्षपछि पार्टीकै पहलमा उनको विवाह कमरेड मालतीसित भएको थियो । उनीहरू कम्युनिस्ट पार्टीको झण्डामुनि उभिएर माक्र्सवाद, लेनिनवाद र माओत्से तुङ्ग विचारलाई आफ्नो सैद्धान्तिक आधार मानी नेपालमा नौलो जनवादी क्रान्ति सफल पारेर समाजवाद र साम्यवादसम्म पुग्ने आफ्नो लक्ष्यको लागि समर्पित हुने प्रण गर्दै विवाह बन्धनमा बाँधिएका थिए ।

छयालीस सालको जनआन्दोलनपछि भूगिगत माले पार्टी खुला भयो । कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालती पनि खुला भए । खुला रहेर नै उनीहरूले पार्टीमा सक्रियतापूर्वक काम गर्न थाले ।

कमरेड मनमोहनको माक्र्सवादीसित एकीकरण भएपछि माले अब माले रहेन । यो एमाले भयो । कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालती पनि आˆनो पार्टीसित नै एमाले हुन पुगे । यस अवस्थामा उनीहरू माले भइरहने कुरो भएन । यो कुरा बेग्लै हो कि उनीहरूलाई एमालेको राजनीतिक लाइन मन परेको थिएन । पुष्पलाललाई गद्दार भनेर झापाली राजनीतिमा लागेका कमरेड किशोरलाई हिजो राजावादी भनेर चिनिएका मनमोहनको नेतृत्वमा काम गर्न मन त पटक्कै लागेको थिएन तर एमालेजस्तो सबभन्दा ठूलो पार्टी छोडेर उनलाई सय पचास कमरेडहरूको पछि दगुर्न पनि मन लागेन । उनलाई आफू क्रियाशील रहेको पार्टीले अब नेपालमा क्रान्ति गर्दैन भन्ने कुरामा त कुनै शङ्का रहेको थिएन तर पनि उनले नेपालमा क्रान्ति नै गर्ने कुनै अर्को पार्टी पनि देखेका थिएनन् ।

यसैबीच एमालेको नौ महिने सरकार पनि बन्यो । यसै बेला कोही मन्त्री बने । कोही राजदूत बने । कोही जी एम बने । कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीले भने कुनै राजनीतिक नियुक्ति पाएनन् । उनीहरूलाई लागिरहेको थियो उनीहरू पार्टीको माथिल्लो नेतृत्वदायी पदमा नभएको हुनाले मन्त्री वा राज्यमन्त्रीको पद नपाए पनि जी एमसम्म त बनाइनुपर्ने । उनीहरूले के पनि सोाचे भने पार्टीका सामन्य समर्थकहरू पनि ठूला ठूला डिग्रीधारी बुद्धिजीवी भएको कारण राजदूत बनाइए । जी एम बनाइए तर क्रान्तिको लागि बुर्जुवा डिग्री बहिस्कार गरेर आएको व्यक्तिको भने कुनै पनि मूल्याङ्कन भएन । उसलाई कुनै पनि ठाउँ दिइएन ।

पार्टीले कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीको कुनै मूल्याङ्कन नगरे पनि उनीहरूले पार्टीको नेतृत्व पंक्तिको राम्रै मूल्याङ्कन गरेका थिए । उनीहरूले देखिरहेको थिए हिजो रबरको सस्ता चप्पल लतार्दै हिाड्ने सर्वहारा कमरेडहरू यतिबेला पजेरो चढ्ने भइसकेका थिए । हिजो झुपडीमा बस्ने कमरेडहरू आज राजधानीमा नै महल बनाएर बस्ने भइसकेका थिए । हिजो कमरेडहरूले गद्दार भनेका पुष्पलालले बनारसमा पेटभरि पाउरोटी पनि खान पाउने थिएनन् तर नेपालमा क्रान्ति गर्न झापा विद्रोह सुरु गरेका कमरेडहरूका महलका कुकुरहरूलाई पनि मासुभात रुच्दैनथ्यो ।

पार्टीका नेतृत्व तहमा बसेका कमरेडका छोराछोरीहरू धमाधम विदेशमा डाक्टर, इन्जिनियर बन्न अमेरिका, बेलायत, रुस, चीन, जापान कताकता पुगेका थिए तर कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीलाई आफ्ना छोराछोरीहरूलाई सरकारी स्कुलमा पढाउन पनि गाह्रो भइसकेको स्थिति थियो । उनीहरूले के पनि देखे भने केही नहुनेहरूले पनि मलेसिया, दुवै, कतार, कोरिया, जापान आदि ठाउँमा पुगी प्रशस्त पैसा कमाएर काठमाडौामा घर घडेरी किनेका थिए तर विडम्बना न त कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीहरू पार्टीमा रहेर कुनै प्रगति गर्न सकेका थिए न विदेश लागेर नै । पार्टीकै पहलमा सञ्चालित एन.जी.ओ. आई.एन.जी.ओ.कामार्फत पनि कति कमरेडले आफ्नो सात पुस्ता सपारेको देखेका थिए । यो पनि उनीहरूको व्यापक असन्तुष्टिको कारण बनेको थियो ।

यस्तै अवस्थामा एक दिन कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीले आफ्नो पार्टी नेतृत्वसित आफ्ना सारा गुनासा राख्दै भने- हामी अब होल टाइमरको रूपमा पार्टीमा रहेर काम गर्न सक्दैनांै । हामी कुनै पेशा अपनाउँछौा र आफ्नो घर पनि हेर्दै सक्दो पार्टीको काम पनि गर्दछौा ।

दुवै जनाले यही कुरालाई दृढतापूर्वक राखेको हुनाले पार्टीले हुन्न भन्ने स्थिति आएन । उनीहरू आफूले चाहेअनुसार नै विविध पेशा गरेर पार्टी काम गर्न सक्ने भए ।

आफ्नो पार्टी सरकारमा भएको बेलामा कमरेड किशोरहरूको नाममा पनि सुकुम्बासीमा एउटा घडेरी दर्ता भएको थियो । उनीहरूले त्यही घडेरीमा एउटा छाप्रो हालेर आफ्नो गार्हस्थ जीवन सुरु गरे । कुरा त पैतृक सम्पत्तिमा दाबी गर्ने पनि उठेको थियो तर उनीहरूले पहाडमा आफ्ना दाजु भाइहरूले कोरेर खाएको एक टुक्रा जमिनमा दाबी गरेर उनीहरूलाई पनि किन सुकुम्बासीमा झार्ने भन्ने सोचले कुरा अघि बढाएनन् । उनले एकपछि अर्को गर्दै थुप्रै पेशामा हात हाले तर कतै पनि सफल हुने स्थिति देखा परेन । किराना पसल राखे । त्यो उधारोले सुक्यो । होटल राखे त्यसमा पनि उनीहरूले खासै प्रगति गर्न सकेनन् । रक्सी नराखे होटल नचल्ने । रक्सी राखे त्यसकै कारणले होटलमा नै दिनरात मारपिट भइरहने । केही समय उनले ठेक्कापट्टामा पनि मन दिए तर नेपालमा ठेक्का पट्टा गर्दा मनी र मसल दुवै चाहिने रहेछ भन्ने कुराको चेत भएपछि उनले छोडे ।

केही समय उनले उद्योग चलाउने जमर्को पनि गरे । ढाका उत्पादन गर्न तान राखे । उनको यस पेशाले पनि रोजगारी चल्न गाह्रो पर्‍यो । कामदारलाई महिना मर्नसाथ पैसा दिन पर्ने । आफू त नाङ्गाको नाङ्गै । भोकाको भोकै । फेरि उनीहरूले होजियारी राखे । यो पनि अन्ततः उनीहरूको लागि फलिफाप भएन । त्यसलाई बन्द गरेर केही समय फर्निचर उद्योग पनि खोले । यसमा बढी चोरीका काठ चल्ने । यो पेशा उनीहरूको निम्ति उपयुक्त नभएको कारणले मात्र होइन कम्पिटिसनमा आउन नसकेको कारणले यसबाट पनि हात धोएका थिए । केही समय कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीले पत्रकारिता पनि नगरेका होइनन् तर पत्रकारितामा आवश्यक गुण आफूमा नभएको हुनाले यसमा पनि उनीहरू धेरै समय टिक्न सकेनन् । केही समय फोटोकपी र फ्याक्सको धन्दा चलाए । त्यसबाट पनि कुनै उन्नति गर्न सक्ने सम्भावना नदेखेर कम्युटर इन्स्िटच्युटतिर ढल्किए । यो पेशा पनि उनीहरूले दुई डेढ वर्षभन्दा बढी चलाउन सकेनन् । चारैतिरबाट असफल भएपछि उनीहरूको अगाडि अब केवल दुईवटा उपयुक्त पेशा बाँकी रहेका थिए- जग्गाको किनबेचको कारोबार वा विदेशी रोजगारको कारोबार तर यसमा पनि कमरेडहरू सफल भएनन् ।

घरमा खर्च बढ्दै गयो । मागहरू बढ्दै गए । आवश्यकता बढ्र्दै गए । यी सब कुराको साथसाथै ऋण पनि बढ्दै गयो । उद्योग धन्दा खोल्छु भनेर बैङ्कबाट ल्याएको कर्जा तिर्न सक्ने अवस्था रहेन । सुकुम्बासीमा प्राप्त गरेको घर घडेरी विक्री गरे पनि ऋण बीसको उन्नाइस हुने छाँट देखिएन । कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीको पार्टी कामप्रति एक प्रकारको वितृष्णा लाग्न थाल्यो । उनीहरू बिस्तारबिस्तार निष्त्रिmय भएर बस्न थाले । वास्तवमा उनीहरू के गर्ने के नगर्ने भन्ने मनस्थितिमा पुगेका थिए ।

कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीले के देखे भने क्रान्तिकारी स्पि्रट भएका धेरै जसो कमरेड माओवादी भइसकेका थिए । उनीहरूमध्ये कति भूमिगत भइसकेका थिए भने कति बाहिर एमालेजस्तै देखिएर माओवादी पार्टीका गतिविधि सञ्चालन गरिरहेका थिए । कमरेड किशोरको एक मनले त क्रान्ति नै गर्ने हो भने माओवादीमा जानुपर्छ कि पनि भनिरहेको थियो तर फेरि उनको अर्को मनले भनिरहेको थियो यो उमेरमा आएर माओवादीले जति बलिदानीको भावनाले काम गर्न सकिन्न । यो उमेरमा आएर माओवादीहरूले जति ज्यान नै फालेर काम गर्न सकिन्न ।

यसैबीच प्रतिगमन आधा सच्चियो भनेर एमाले सरकारमा गयो । एमालेको कृपादृष्टि कमरेड किशोरमाथि पनि पर्‍यो । उनलाई पार्टीले जी एम पदले सम्मानित गर्ने निर्णय गर्‍यो ।

जिएम भएको एक/दुई वर्षमा नै कमरेड किशोरको पारिवारिक स्थितिमा ठूलो हेरफेर आयो । उनले राजधानीमा नै महल खडा गरेको खवरले समाचार पानाका पन्ना भरिन थाले । हुन त यसैबीच उनका जेठा छोरा कोरिया गएको एक/डेढ वर्ष जति भएको थियो । उनले आफूले राजधानीमा खडा गरेको भवन कुनै भ्रष्टाचारको पैसाले होइन । छोराले कोरियाबाट पठाएको पैसाले नै बनाएको हो भने । यो कुरा कतिले पत्ताए कतिले पत्ताएनन् तर साँचो कुरा के थियो भने यतिबेला कमरेड किशोर र कमरेड मालतीको अवस्था हिजोको जस्तो थिएन । उनीहरूको गणना राजधानीकै अभिजात वर्गमा हुन थालेको थियो ।

कमरेड मोहनको अगाडि एउटा पजेरो आएर रोकियो । पजेरो कमरेड किशोरको थियो । जिएम कमरेड किशोर ।

मलाई चिन्नु भयो मोहनजी ? कमरेड किशोरले गाडीबाट मुण्टो बाहिर निकालेर सोधे । आफ्नो अगाडि गाडी आएर रोकिादा कमरेड मोहन झस्किए । उनले देखे एक जना पेन्ट टाई सुट लगाएको व्यक्तिले उनलाई सम्बोधन गर्दै भनिरहेको थियो ।

उनले आँखा गाडेर हेर्दा चिनेजस्तो त लाग्यो तर ठहराउन भने सकेनन् । उनले विनम्रतापूर्वक भने- मैले तपाईर्ंलाई कतै देखेजस्तो त लाग्यो तर ठहराउन सकिनँ । आँखा कमजोर भएर पनि होला ।

म तपाईंको बनारसको लंगोटिया यार । कमरेड किशोर । कमरेड किशोरले मुस्कराउँदै भने ।

ए त्यसैले पो त मलाई तपाईं कुनै चिर परिचित व्यक्तिजस्तो लाग्नुभएको थियो । अहिले मलाई तपाईंलाई चिन्न गाह्रो भयो । हिजो किशोरजी वास्तवमा किशोर अवस्थामा नै हुनुहुन्थ्यो । अहिले यस्तो प्रौढ अवस्थामा मैले तपाईंलाई कसरी चिन्ने । दोस्रो कुरो तपाईं बनारसको धोती कुर्तामा हुनुहुन्थ्यो । अहिले यस्तो सुटेड बुटेड व्यक्तिलाई मैले कसरी चिन्ने ? उसरी तपाईर्ले मेरो कुनै खबर नलिए पनि तपाईंका बारेमा त मैले खबर लिादै गर्थैं । पछिल्लोपटक तपाईं जिएम भएको खबर पनि मेरा कानमा नपुगेको होइनन् । कमरेड मोहनले आफ्नो प्रतिक्रिया प्रकट गर्दै भने ।

भन्नोस् तपाईं अहिले के गर्दै हुनुहुन्छ ? केही गम्भीरजस्तो भएर कमरेड किशोरले प्रश्न गरे ।

के गर्ने गाउँमा मास्टरी गर्दै थिएँ । सरकारले मलाई आतङ्कवादी भनेर प्रहरी थाना पुरायो । सैनिक ब्यारेकमा पुरायो । जेलको दर्शन पनि गरायो । गायब नै पार्ने सुर पनि कसेको थियो तर नागरिक समाज, मानव अधिकारवादी सङ्घ-संस्था र कानुन व्यवसायीहरूको ठूलो प्रयासले छुटेको छु । यसमा न्यायाधीशहरूको पनि निकै ठूलो सहयोग रहेको छ । थाना र ब्यारेकमा ज्यादा यातना खाएर होला मेरो सम्पूर्ण शरीर मरेको जस्तो छ । अहिले उपचार गराउँदै छु । उपचार गराउन नै राजधानी आएको थिएँ । भोलि जिल्ल्ाातिर नै फर्किंदै छु । कमरेड मोहनले सबै कुराको बेली विस्तार लगाउँदै भने ।

आज मेरै निवास जाने कि ? दुःख सुखका कुरा गर्न सकिन्छ । कमरेड किशोरले उदारताको प्रदर्शन गर्दै भने । जान त जान हुन्थ्यो तर केही काम बाँकी रहेकोले अहिलेलाई क्षमा गर्नु होला । पछि कुनै दिन तपाईंको निवासमा अवश्य निस्किउँला ।

कुराकानी गरेपछि कमरेड किशोरको गाडी बानेश्वरतिर घुइक्यो । कपाल सेतै फुलेका कमरेड मोहन चुपचाप आफ्नो सेल्टरतिर लागे ।

भीमनिधि तिवारी

Bhimnidhi Tiwari was born to a young couple Lalnidhi Tiwari and Nanda Kumari Tiwari in 1911. Lalnidhi Tiwari was extremely pleased as he had previously had no sons and organized the Indrasavha drama – an extravagant thing to do at the time to celebrate the birth.

Bhim Nidhi Tiwari grew up in a traditional home. His mother died when he was seven years old. His poem, called “Dagbatti”, recounts his experience as a child the night he was taken to the ghat burning grounds, his head shaved, and his feeling when fire consumed his mother. When his father died, Tiwari had become 27 years old and his family’s responsibilities came upon him.

For 32 years he served as a government employee. First as a section officer in the Ministry of Education and afterwards an assistant secretary. In 1938, he established Nepal Sahitya Press which was later merged with Pashupati Press. In 1949, he established Nepal Natak Sangh – an organization that worked to uplift the status of Nepalese drama and literature.

Tiwari represented Nepal in the East Asia UNESCO seminar which focused on copyright. In 1967, he accompanied his Late Majesty King Mahendra Bir Bikram Shah on a royal visit to the Netherlands, West Germany, and Karachi. The Russian government also invited him for a three week visit. Later, he visited London, Rome, and Delhi.

Lalnidhi Tiwari was a great inspiration to his son’s writings. Bhimnidhi Tiwari used to say: “The future of Nepalese drama is in doubt. Dramatists are not respected and actors and actresses are desperate.” No doubt, after Bal Krishna Sama, Tiwari contributed much to the enrichment of Nepalese drama. Among his works are Sahanshila Sushila, Adarsha Jiwan, Putali, Kashiwas, Kishan, Nainikaram, Siddhartha Gautam, Nokar, Biwaha, Akanki Pallav, Satya Harishchandra, Aakanki Kali, Silanyas, Matoko Maya, Maharaj, and Indradhanus.

Tiwari also wrote short stories, novels, poems, lyrics, and satires. He believed in social reform and wrote against smoking, drinking, and gambling. His work gives insight into Nepalese lifestyles, culture, mythologies, and history. Bhimnidhi Tiwari received many awards and prizes for his creations. “Yasashvisav” and the historical dramas, “Silanyas” and “Matokomaya” were awarded. He received the Madan Puraskar in 1970 and his Late Majesty King Tribhuvan honored him with the Prakhyan Trishakti Patta, Rajyabisekh Padak, and Gyanpad Sewa. Tiwari died in 1956.

Shakuntala Act 1 – Kalidasa

King Dushyant in a chariot, pursuing an antelope, with a bow and quiver, attended by his Charioteer.
Suta (Charioteer). [Looking at the antelope, and then at the king]
When I cast my eye on that black antelope, and on thee, O king, with thy braced bow, I see before me, as it were, the God Mahésa chasing a hart (male deer), with his bow, named Pináca, braced in his left hand.

King Dushyant: The fleet animal has given us a long chase. Oh! there he runs, with his neck bent gracefully, looking back, from time to time, at the car (chariot) which follows him. Now, through fear of a descending shaft, he contracts his forehand, and extends his flexible haunches; and now, through fatigue, he pauses to nibble the grass in his path with his mouth half opened. See how he springs and bounds with long steps, lightly skimming the ground, and rising high in the air! And now so rapid is his flight, that he is scarce discernible!

Suta: The ground was uneven, and the horses were checked in their course. He has taken advantage of our delay. It is level now, and we may easily overtake him.

King Dushyant: Loosen the reins.

Suta: As the king commands. – [He drives the car first at full speed, and then gently.] – He could not escape. The horses were not even touched by the clouds of dust which they raised; they tossed their manes, erected their ears, and rather glided than galloped over the smooth plain.

King Dushyant: They soon outran the swift antelope. –Objects which, from their distance, appeared minute, presently became larger: what was really divided, seemed united, as we passed; and what was in truth bent, seemed straight. So swift was the motion of the wheels, that nothing, for many moments, was either distant or near. [He fixes an arrow in his bowstring.]

[Behind the scenes.] He must not be slain. This antelope, O king, has an asylum in our forest: he must not be slain.

Suta: [Listening and Looking.] Just as the animal presents a fair mark for our arrow, two hermits are advancing to interrupt your aim

King Dushyant: Then stop the car.

Suta: The king is obeyed. [He draws in the reins.]

Enter a Hermit and his Pupil.

Hermit: [Raising his hands.] Slay not, O mighty sovereign, slay not a poor fawn, who has found a place of refuge. No, surely, no; he must not be hurt. An arrow in the delicate body of a deer would be like fire in bale of cotton. Compared with thy keen shafts, how weak must be the tender hide of a young antelope! Replace quickly, oh! replace the arrow which thou hast aimed. The weapons of you kings and warriors are destined for the relief of the oppressed, not for the destruction of the guiltless.

King Dushyant: [Saluting them.] It is replaced.

[He places the arrow in his quiver.]

Hermit: [With joy] Worthy is that act of thee, most illustrious; of monarchs; worthy, indeed, of a prince descended from Puru. Mayst thou have a son adorned with virtues, a sovereign of the world!

Pupil: [Elevating both his hands.] Oh! by all means, may thy son be adorned with every virtue, a sovereign of the world!

King Dushyant: [Bowing to them.] My head bears with reverence the order of a Bráhmin

Hermit: Great king, we came hither to collect wood for a solemn sacrifice; and this forest, and the banks of the Malini, affords an asylum to the wild animals protected by Shakuntala, (Shakuntala) whom our holy preceptor Kanva has received as a sacred deposit. If you have no other avocation, enter yon grove, and let the rights of hospitality be duly performed. Having seen with your own eyes the virtuous behaviour of those whose only wealth is their piety, but whose worldly cares are now at an end, you will then exclaim, ‘How many good subjects are defended by this arm, which the bowstring has made callous!’

King Dushyant: Is the master of your family at home?

Hermit: Our preceptor is gone to Sómatirt’ha, in hopes of deprecating some calamity, with which destiny threatens the irreproachable Shakuntala, and he has charged her, in his absence, to receive all guests with due honour.

King Dushyant: Holy man, I will attend her; and she, having observed my devotion, will report it favourably to the venerable sage.

Both: Be it so; and we depart on our own business. [The Hermit and his Pupil go out.]

King Dushyant: Drive on Suta. By visiting the abode of holiness, we shall purify our souls.

Suta: As the king (may his life be long!) commands. [He drives on.]

King Dushyant:[Looking on all sides.] That we are near the dwelling–place of pious hermits, would clearly have appeared, even if it had not been told.

Suta: By what marks?

King Dushyant: Do you not observe them? See under yon trees the hallowed grains which have been scattered on the ground, while the tender female parrots were feeding their unfledged young in their pendent nest. Mark in other places the shining pieces of polished stone which have bruised the oil fruit of the sacred Ingudì. Look at the young fawns, which, having acquired confidence in man, and accustomed themselves to the sound of his voice, frisk at pleasure, without varying their course. Even the surface of the river is reddened with lines of consecrated bark, which float down its stream.

Look again; the roots of yon trees are bathed in the waters of holy pools, which quiver as the breeze plays upon them; and the glowing lustre of yon fresh leaves is obscured, for a time, by smoke that rises from oblations of clarified butter. See too, where the young roes (deers) graze, without apprehension from our approach, on the lawn before yonder garden, where the tops of the sacrificial grass, cut for some religious rite, are sprinkled around.

Suta: I now observe holy habitation.

Dushm. [Turning aside.] This awful (awe inspiring)sanctuary, my friend, must not be violated. Here, therefore, stop the car; that I may descend.

Char. I hold in the reins. The king may descend at his pleasure.

King Dushyant:[Having descended, and looking at his own dress.] Groves devoted to religion must be entered in humbler habiliments (garments). Take these regal ornaments;–[the Charioteer receives them] –and, whilst I am observing those who inhabit this retreat, let the horses be watered and dressed.

Suta: Be it as you direct! [He goes out.]

King Dushyant: [Walking around and looking.] Now then I enter the sanctuary. –[He enters the grove.] –Oh! this place must be holy, my right arm throbs. –[Pausing and considering.] –What new acquisition does this omen promise in a sequestered grove? But the gates of predestined events are in all places open.

[Behind the Scenes.] Come hither, my beloved companions; Oh! come hither.

King Dushyant: [Listening.] Hah! I hear female voices to the right of yon arbour (tree). I am resolved to know who are conversing. –[He walks round and looks.] –There are some damsels, I see, belonging to the hermit’s family who carry water–pots of different sizes proportioned to their strength, and are going to water the delicate plants. Oh! how charmingly they look! If the beauty of maids who dwell in woodland retreats cannot easily be found in the recesses of a palace, the garden flowers must make room for the blossoms of the forest, which excel them in colour and fragrance. [He stands gazing at them.]

Enter Shakuntala, Anusuya, and Priyamvada.

Anusuya: O my Shakuntala, it is in thy society that the trees of our father Canna seem to me delightful; it well becomes thee, who art soft as the fresh–blown Mallicá, to fill with water the canals which have been dug round these tender shrubs.

Shakuntala: It is not only in obedience to our father that I thus employ myself, though that were a sufficient motive, but I really feel the affection of a sister for these young plants. [Watering them.]

Priyamvada: My beloved friend, the shrubs which you have watered flower in the summer, which is now begun: let us give water to those which have passed their flowering time; for our virtue will be the greater when it is wholly disinterested.

Shakuntala: Excellent advice! [Watering other plants.]

King Dushyant: [Aside in transport.] How! is that Kanva’s daughter, Shakuntala? –[With surprise.] –The venerable sage must have an unfeeling heart, since he has allotted a mean employment to so lovely a girl, and has dressed her in a coarse mantle of woven bark. He, who could with that so beautiful a creature, who at first sight ravishes my soul, should endure the hardships of his austere devotion, would attempt, I suppose, to cleave the hard wood Samì with a leaf of the blue lotos (lotus). Let me retire behind this tree, that I may gaze on her charms without diminishing her confidence. [He retires.]

Shakuntala: My friend Priyamvada has tied this mantle of bark so closely over my bosom that it gives me pain: Anusúuya, I request you to untie it.

[Anusuya unties the mantle.]

Priyamvada: [Laughing.] Well, my sweet friend, enjoy, while you may, that youthful prime, which gives your bosom so beautiful a swell.

King Dushyant: [Aside.] Admirably spoken, Priyamvada! No; her charms cannot be hidden, even though a robe of intertwisted fibres be thrown over her shoulders, and conceal a part of her bosom, like a veil of yellow leaves enfolding a radiant flower. The water lily, though dark moss may settle on its head, is nevertheless beautiful; and the moon with dewy beams is rendered yet brighter by its black spots. The bark itself acquires elegance from the features of a girl with antelope’s eyes, and rather augments than diminishes my ardour. Many are the rough stalks which support the water lily; but many and exquisite are the blossoms which hang on them.

Shakuntala: [Looking before her.] Yon Amra tree, my friends, points with the finger of its leaves, which the gale gently agitates, and seems inclined to whisper some secret. I will go near it. [They all approach the tree.]

Priyamvada: O my Shakuntala, let us remain some time in this shade.
Shakuntala: Why here particularly?

Priyamvada: Because the Amra tree seems wedded to you, who are graceful as the blooming creeper which twines round it.

Shakuntala: Properly are you named Priyamvada, or speaking lovingly (kindly).

King Dushyant: [Aside.] She speaks truly. Yes; her lip glows like the tender leaflet; her arms resemble two flexible stalks; and youthful beauty shines, like a blossom, in all her lineaments.

Anusuya: See, my Shakuntala, how yon fresh Malicá, which you have surnamed Vanàdósini, or Delight of the Grove, has chosen the sweet Amra for her bridegroom.

Shakuntala: [Approaching, and looking at it with pleasure.] How charming is the season, when the nuptials even of plants are thus publicly celebrated! [She stands admiring it.]

Priyamvada: [Smiling.] Do you know, my Anusuya, why Shakuntala gazes on the plants with such rapture?

Anusuya: No, indeed: I was trying to guess. Pray, tell me.

Priyamvada: ‘As the Grove’s Delight is united to a suitable tree, thus I too hope for a bridegroom to my mind.’ –That is her private thought at this moment.

Shakuntala Such are the sights of your own imagination. [Inverting the water–pot.]

Anusuya: Here is a plant, Shakuntala, which you have forgotten, though it has grown up, like yourself, under the fostering care of our father Kanva.

Shakuntala: Then I shall forget myself. –O wonderful! –[approaching the plant.] –O Priyamvada! [looking at it with joy] I have delightful tidings for you.

Priyamvada: What tidings, my beloved, for me?

Shakuntala: This Madhavi–creeper, though it be not the usual time for flowering, is covered with gay blossoms from its root to its top.

Both. [Approaching it hastily.] Is it really so, sweet friend?

Shakuntala: Is it so? Look yourselves.

Priyamvada: [With eagerness] From this omen, Shakuntala, I announce you an excellent husband, who will very soon take you by the hand. [Both girls look at Shakuntala.]

Shakuntala [Displeased.] A strange fancy of yours!

Priyamvada: Indeed, my beloved, I speak not jestingly. I heard something from our father Kanva. Your nurture of these plants has prospered; and thence it is, that I foretell your approaching nuptials.

Anusuya: It is thence, my Priyamvada, that she has watered them with so much alacrity.

Shakuntala: The Madhavi plant is my sister; can I do otherwise than cherish her?

[Pouring water on it.]

King Dushyant: [Aside.] I fear she is of the same religious order with her foster–father. Or has a mistaken apprehension risen in my mind? My warm heart is so attached to her, that she cannot but be a fit match for a man of the military class. The doubts which awhile perplex the good, are soon removed by the prevalence of their strong inclinations. I am enamoured of her, and she cannot, therefore, be the daughter of a Brahmin, whom I could not marry.

Shakuntala: [Moving her head.] Alas! a bee has left the blossom of this Mallicá, and is fluttering round my face. [She expresses uneasiness.]

King Dushyant: [Aside, with affection.] How often have I seen our court damsels affectedly turn their heads aside from some roving insect, merely to display their graces! But this rural charmer knits her brows, and gracefully moves her eyes through fear only, without art or affectation. Oh! happy– bee, who touchest the corner of that eye beautifully trembling; who, approaching the tip of that ear, murmurs as softly as if thou wert whispering a secret of love; and who sippest nectar, while she waves her graceful hand, from that lip, which contains all the treasures of delight! Whilst I am solicitous to know in what family she was born, thou art enjoying bliss, which to me would be supreme felicity.

Shakuntala: Disengage me, I entreat, from this importunate insect, which quite baffles my efforts.

Priyamvada: What power have we to deliver you? The king Dushmanta is the sole defender of our consecrated groves.

King Dushyant: [Aside.] This is a good occasion for me to discover myself –[advancing a little.] –I must not, I will not, fear. Yet –[checking himself and retiring] –my royal character will thus abruptly be known to them. No; I will appear as a simple stranger, and claim the duties of hospitality.

Shakuntala: This impudent bee will not rest. I will remove to another space. –[Stepping aside and looking round] –Away! away! He follows me wherever I go. Deliver me, oh! deliver me from this distress.

King Dushyant: [Advancing hastily.] Ah! While the race of Puru govern the world, and restrain even the most profligate, by good laws well administered, has any man the audacity to molest the lovely daughters of pious hermits? [They look at him with emotion.]

Anusuya: Sir, no man is here audacious; but this damsel, our beloved friend, was teased by a fluttering bee. [Both girls look at Shakuntala.]

King Dushyant: [Approaching her.] Damsel, may thy devotion prosper! [Shakuntala looks on the ground, bashful and silent.]

Anusuya: Our guest must be received with due honours.

Priyamvada: Stranger, you are welcome. Go, my Shakuntala; bring from the cottage a basket of fruit and flowers. This river will, in the mean time, supply water for his feet. [Looking at the water-pots.]

King Dushyant: Holy maid, the gentleness of thy speech does me sufficient honour.

Anusuya: Sit down awhile on this bank of earth, spread with the leaves of Septaperna: the shade is refreshing, and our lord must want repose after his journey.

King Dushyant: You too must all be fatigued by your hospitable attentions; rest yourselves, therefore, with me.

Priyamvada: [Aside to Shakuntala] Come, let us all be seated: our guest is contented with our reception of him. [They all seat themselves.]

Shakuntala: [Aside.] At the sight of this youth I feel an emotion scarce consistent with a grove devoted to piety.

King Dushyant: [Gazing at them alternately.] How well your friendship agrees, holy damsels, with the charming equality of your ages, and of your beauties!

Priyamvada: [Aside to Anusuya.] Who can this be, my Anusuya? The union of delicacy with robustness in his form, and of sweetness with dignity in his discourse, indicate a character fit for ample dominion.

Anusuya: [Aside to Priyamvada.] I too have been admiring him. I must ask him a few questions. –[Aloud.] Your sweet speech, Sir, gives me confidence. What imperial family is embellished by our noble guest? What is his native country? Surely it must be afflicted by his absence from it. What, I pray, could induce you to humiliate that exalted form of yours by visiting a forest peopled only by simple anchorites?

Shakuntala: [Aside.] Perplex not thyself, O my heart! let the faithful Anusuúya direct with her counsel the thoughts which rise in thee.

King Dushyant: [Aside.] How shall I reveal, or how shall I disguise myself? –[Musing.] –Be it so. [Aloud to Anusuúya.] Excellent lady, I am a student of the Véda, dwelling in the city of our king, descended from Puru; and, being occupied in the discharge of religious and moral duties, am come hither to behold the sanctuary of virtue.

Anusuya: Holy men, employed like you, are our lords and masters. [Shakuntala looks modest, yet with affection; while her companions gaze alternately at her and at the king.]

Anusuya: [Aside to Shakuntala] Oh! if our venerable father were present–

Shakuntala: What if he were?

Anusuya: He would entertain our guest with a variety of refreshments.

Shakuntala: [Pretending displeasure.]Go too; you had some other idea in your head; I will not listen to you. [She sits apart.]

King Dushyant: [Aside to Anusúuya and Priyamvada] In my turn, holy damsels, allow me to ask one question concerning your lovely friend.

Both. The request, Sir, does us honour.

King Dushyant: The sage Kanva, I know, is ever intent upon the great Being; and must have declined all earthly connections. How then can this damsel be, as it is said, his daughter?

Anusuya: Let our lord hear. There is, in the family of Cusa, a pious prince of extensive power, eminent in devotion and in arms.

King Dushyant: You speak, no doubt, of Kausika, the sage and monarch.

Anusuya: Know, Sir, that he is in truth her father; while Canna bears that reverend name, because he brought her up, since she was left an infant.

King Dushyant: Left? The word excites my curiosity; and raises in me a desire of knowing her whole story.

Anusuya: You shall hear it, Sir, in few words. –When that sage king had begun to gather the fruits of his austere devotion, the gods of Swarga (heaven) became apprehensive of his increasing power, and sent the nymph Ménacà (Menaka) to frustrate, by her allurements, the full effect of his austerities.

King Dushyant: Is a mortal’s austerity (piety) so tremendous to the inferior deities? What was the event?

Anusuya: In the bloom of the vernal season, Causica, beholding the beauty of the celestial nymph, and wasted (overpowered) by the gale of desire. –[She stops and looks modest.]

King Dushyant: I now see the whole. Shakuntala then is the daughter of a king, by a nymph of the lower heaven.

Anusuya: Even so.

King Dushyant: [Aside.] The desire of my heart is gratified. –[Aloud.] How, indeed, could her transcendent beauty be the portion of mortal birth? Yon light, that sparkles with tremulous beams, proceeds not from a terrestrial cavern. [Sacontalá fits modestly, with her eyes on the ground.]

King Dushyant: [Again aside.] Happy man that I am! Now has my fancy an ample range. Yet, having heard the pleasantry of her companions on the subject of her nuptials, I am divided with anxious doubt, whether she be not wholly destined for a religious life.

Priyamvada: [Smiling, and looking first at Shakuntala, then at the king.] Our lord seems desirous of asking other questions.

[Shakuntala rebukes Priyamvada with her hand.]

King Dushyant: You know my very heart. I am, indeed, eager to learn the whole of this charmer’s life; and must put one question more.

Priyamvada: Why should you muse on it so long? –[Aside.] One would think this religious man was forbidden by his vows to court a pretty woman.

King Dushyant: This I ask. Is the strict rule of a hermit so far to be observed by Kanva, that he cannot dispose of his daughter in marriage, but must check the natural impulse of juvenile love? Can she (oh preposterous fate!) be destined to reside for life among her favourite antelopes, the black lustre of whose eyes is far surpassed by hers?

Priyamvada. Hitherto, Sir, our friend has lived happily in this consecrated forest, the abode of her spiritual father; but it is now his intention to unite her with a bridegroom equal to herself.

King Dushyant: [Aside, with ecstasy.] Exult, oh my heart, exult. All doubt is removed; and what before thou could have dreaded as a flame, may now be approached as a gem inestimable.

Shakuntala. [Seemingly angry.] Anusúuya I will stay here no longer.

Anusuya. Why so, I pray?

Shakuntala. I will go to the holy matron Gautami, and let her know how impertinently our Priyamvada has been prattling. [She rises.]

Anusuya. It will not be decent, my love, for an inhabitant of this hallowed wood to retire before a guest has received complete honour. [Shakuntala, giving no answer to go.]

King Dushyant: [Aside.] Is she then departing? –[He rises, as if going to stop her, but check himself.] –The actions of a passionate lover are as precipitate as his mind is agitated. Thus I, whose passion impelled me to follow the hermit’s daughter, am restrained by a sense of duty.

Priyamvada. [Going upto Shakuntala} My angry friend, you must not retire.

Shakuntala: [Stepping back and frowning.] What should detain me?

Priyamvada. You owe me the labour, according to our agreement, of watering two more shrubs. Pay me first, to acquit your conscience, and then depart, if you please. [Holding her.]

King Dushyant: The damsel is fatigued, I imagine, by pouring so much water on the cherished plants. Her arms, graced with palms like fresh blossoms, hang carelessly down; her bosom heaves with strong breathing; and now her dishevelled locks, from which the string has dropped, are held by one of her lovely hands. Suffer me, therefore, thus to discharge the debt. –[Giving his ring to Priyamvada Both damsels, reading the name Dushyant, inscribed on the ring, look surprised at each other.] –It is a toy unworthy of your fixed attention; but I value it as a gift from the king.

Priyamvada. Then you ought not, Sir, to part with it. Her debt is from this moment discharged on your word only. [She returns the ring.]

Anusuya. You are now released, Shakuntala, by this benevolent lord –or favoured, perhaps, by a monarch himself. To what place will you now retire?

Shakuntala: [Aside.] Must I not wonder at all this if I preserve my senses?

Priyamvada: Are not you going, Shakuntala?

Shakuntala: Am I your subject? I shall go when it pleases me.

King Dushyant: [Aside, looking at Shakuntala] Either she is affected towards me, as I am towards her, or I am distracted with joy. She mingles not her discourse with mine; yet, when I speak, she listens attentively. She commands not her actions in my presence; and her eyes are engaged on me alone.

[Behind the scenes.] Oh pious hermits, preserve the animals of this hallowed forest! The king Dushyanta is hunting in it. The dust raised by the hoofs of his horses, which pound tile pebbles ruddy as early dawn, falls like a swarm of blighting insects on the consecrated boughs which sustain your mantles of woven bark, moist with the water of the stream in which you have bathed.

King Dushyant: [Aside.] Alas! my officers, who are searching for me, have indiscreetly disturbed this holy retreat.

[Again behind the scenes.] Beware, ye hermits, of yon elephant, who comes overturning all that oppose him; now he fixes his trunk with violence on a lofty branch that obstructs his way; and now he is entangled in the twining stalks of the Vratati. How are our sacred rites interrupted! How are the protected herds dispersed! The wild elephant, alarmed at the new appearance of a car, lays our forest waste.

King Dushyant: [Aside.] How unwillingly am I offending the devout forests! Yes; I must go to them instantly.

Priyamvada: Noble stranger, we are confounded with dread of the enraged elephant. With your permission, therefore, we retire to the hermit’s cottage.

Anusuya. O Shakuntala, the venerable matron will be much distressed on your account. Come quickly, that we may be all safe together.

Shakuntala: [Walking slowly.] I am stopped, alas! by a sudden pain in my side.

King Dushyant: Be not alarmed, amiable damsels. It shall be my care that no disturbance happen in your sacred groves.

Priyamvada: Excellent stranger, we were wholly unacquainted with your station, and you will forgive us, we hope, for the offence of intermitting awhile the honours due to you: but we humbly request that you will give us once more the pleasure of seeing you, though you have not now been received with perfect hospitality.

King Dushyant: You depreciate your own merits. The sight of you, sweet damsels, has sufficiently honoured me.

Shakuntala: My foot, O Anusúya is hurt by this painted blade of Kusha grass; and now my loose vest of bark is caught by a branch of the Curuvaca. Help me to disentangle myself, and support me. [She goes out, looking from time to time at Dushmanta, and supported by the damsels.]

King Dushyant: [Sighing.] They are all departed; and I too, alas! must depart. For how short a moment have I been blessed with a sight of the incomparable Shakuntala I will send my attendants to the city, and take my station at no great distance from this forest. I cannot, in truth, divert my mind from the sweet occupation of gazing on her. How, indeed, should I otherwise occupy it? My body moves onward; but my restless heart runs back to her; like a light flag borne on a staff against the wind, and fluttering in an opposite direction.[He goes out.]
Kalidasa