Lyrics – Jaba Jaba Timro Saath

जब जब तिम्रो साथ, मिल्दैमिल्दै गयो।…२
धरोधर्म मेरो जिन्दगी, कायापलट भयो।
[यस्तै माया गरिरहुँ, अँगालोमा बेरिरहूँ।
सधै तिम्रै हुने, मन छ।
यो मनले सधैँलाई, माया गर्दै तिमीलाई।
ढुकढुकी बनाउछु भन्छ। ]…२

लाग्छ मलाई, मेरी जीवन फिका रहेछ पहिले।…२
स्वर्ग झैँ आभाष हुन्छ, आफ्नै जिन्दगी अहिले।
[यस्तै माया गरिरहुँ, अँगालोमा बेरिरहूँ।
सधै तिम्रै हुने, मन छ।
यो मनले सधैँलाई, माया गर्दै तिमीलाई।
ढुकढुकी बनाउछु भन्छ। ]…२

तिम्रो साथ छ, मधुमास छ, न्यानो-न्यानो मिठास छ।…२
तिमी छौ र त मेरो, जिन्दगानी खास छ।
[यस्तै माया गरिरहुँ, अँगालोमा बेरिरहूँ।
सधै तिम्रै हुने, मन छ।
यो मनले सधैँलाई, माया गर्दै तिमीलाई।
ढुकढुकी बनाउछु भन्छ। ]…२

जब जब तिम्रो साथ, मिल्दैमिल्दै गयो।
धरोधर्म मेरो जिन्दगी, कायापलट भयो।
[यस्तै माया गरिरहुँ, अँगालोमा बेरिरहूँ।
सधै तिम्रै हुने, मन छ।
यो मनले सधैँलाई, माया गर्दै तिमीलाई।
ढुकढुकी बनाउछु भन्छ। ]…२

Maya Le Boleko – Karkhana

मायाले बोलेको, बोलि मिठो भो।
सुरिलो आवाजको, जादु छुट्टै भो।
जोवनले पिरतीको, कथा लेख्ने भो।
आँखाको गहिराईमा माया।
जुन तारा साँचेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।…२
धर्ती आकाश भाकेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।
जुन तारा साँचेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।

चाहना यस्तै हो कि, माया हो यो मेरो।
बाहना तिमी हौ कि, भावना हो यो मेरो।
यो मनले त्यो मनसँग, माया गाँस्ने भो।
मन भित्र गहिराईमा, माया।
देबिदेउता भाकेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।
जुन तारा साँचेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।

धर्ती आकाश भाकेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।
जुन तारा साँचेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।
मायाले बोलेको, बोलि मिठो भो।
सुरिलो आवाजको, जादु छुट्टै भो।
जोवनले पिरतीको, कथा लेख्ने भो।
आँखाको गहिराईमा माया।
जुन तारा साँचेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।…२
धर्ती आकाश भाकेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।
जुन तारा साँचेर, यो मनै तिम्रो भो।…२

बिहानी फुल हाँस्यो, राती चन्द्रमा।
जन्ती लिई आउनु हजूर, मङ्सिर पन्ध्रमा।

Poem – Suicide Is Bravery

Imagine standing at the edge
No more reasons of anything in life to pledge
Looking down as the wind bleeds your eyes dry
When you fall you have seconds to say goodbye to the sky
Adrenaline causes the mind an instant rush
Anticipating freedom until you become crushed

Now a coward alive would say this man was weak
Yet this man in life couldn’t imagine thinking deep
Instead of jumping for problems, you take a jump for power
I’ll live more in 10 seconds than you do in a million hours
So as your standing at the edge giving life your last salute
Remember your brave, realize most wouldn’t jump even with a parachute
Most would run as they saw death screaming 1000 feet down
A brave man would dig is own corpse into the ground

So as you read about another suicide statistic being
He did it because of strength, something your not seeing
When life screeches to an end and you want to be saved
This ‘coward’ was brave, this soul was brave

Poem – Marriage

Age old saying about marriage,
Sacred bonding and not carriage,
It is not freedom from cage,
Necessarily arising with completion of age,

No one thought of its sanity,
What are marriage and its utility?
Does that stand for population continuity?
Permanent bond and relation in amity,

New relations with two families union,
End of sour relation and exit form oblivion,
Finding perfect match as true companion,
With gala dance and lavish dishes in pavilion,

So long confined within limits, can be perfect,
Enhancing prestige and image with great impact,
Adding to civility with understanding and respect,
Surely it is an arrangement and not a pact,

Lavish spending is not necessarily,
Simple marriage with blessings happily,
Out of reach expenditure will be simply silly,
Not a wise steps but committing folly,

Parent may suffer on account of marriage,
Colossal waste of money can’t manage,
Adding to worry with heavy burden,
Pressure may be high to tackle it sudden,

With over of ceremony no more worry,
Calm all over and nothing to hurry,
Simple way of parting beloved one,
Sharing of joy but pain by none

Poem – By Their Works

Who cleaned up the Last Supper?
These would be my people.
Maybe hung over, wanting
desperately a better job,
standing with rags
in hand as the window
beckons with hills
of yellow grass. In Da Vinci,
the blue robed apostle
gesturing at Christ
is saying, give Him the check.
What a mess they’ve made
of their faith. My God
would put a busboy
on earth to roam
among the waiters
and remind them to share
their tips. The woman
who finished one
half eaten olive
and scooped the rest
into her pockets,
walked her tiny pride home
to children who looked
at her smile and saw
the salvation of a meal.
All that week
at work she ignored
customers who talked
of Rome and silk
and crucifixions,
though she couldn’t stop
thinking of this man
who said thank you
each time she filled
His glass.

Poem – Being Late

Something dangerous is beginning:
I am coming late to my own self.
I made an appointment with my thoughts-
the thoughts were snatched from me.
I made an appointment with Faulkner-
but they made me go to a banquet.
I made an appointment with history,
but a grass-widow dragged me into bed.
Worse than barbed wire
are birthday parties, mine and others’,
and roasted suckling pigs hold me
like a sprig of parsley between their teeth!
Led away for good
to a life absolutely not my own,
everything that I eat, eats me,
everything that I drink, drinks me.
I made an appointment with myself,
but they invite me to feast on my own spareribs.
I am garlanded from all sides
not by strings of bagels, but by the holes of bagels,
and I look like an anthology of zeros.
Life gets broken into hundreds of lifelets,
that exhaust and execute me.
In order to get through to myself
I had to smash my body against others’,
and my fragments, my smithereens,
are trampled by the roaring crowd.
I am trying to glue myself together,
but my arms are still severed.
I’d write with my left leg,
but both the left and the right
have run off, in different directions.
I don’t know- where is my body?
And soul? Did it really fly off,
without a murmured ‘good-bye! ‘?
How do I break through to a faraway namesake,
waiting for me in the cold somewhere?
I’ve forgotten under which clock
I am waiting for myself.
For those who don’t know who they are,
time does not exist.
No one is under the clock.
On the clock there is nothing.
I am late for my appointment
with me. There is no one.
Nothing but cigarette butts.
Only one flicker-
A lonely, dying, spark…P