Ye Naulo Manchhe – Shrawan Mukarung

ए नौलो मान्छे सुन यो सहरमा तिमी एक्लो छैनौ
बाटो हराएका
माटो गुमाएका
यो ठूलो संसारमा तिमी एक होइनौ

कति छन् यहाँ आफ्नो नाम खोज्दा बेनाम भएका
कति छन् यहाँ अनुहार खोज्दा पग्ली झरेका
ए नौलो मान्छे…

यहाँ छन् हजारौँ दुःखले गलेका मानिसका आँखा
यहीँ छन् हजारौँ मान्छे अटाउने देवताको काख
ए नौलो मान्छे…

तिमीले टेकेको गोलो यो पृथिवी तिम्रो पनि हो
यो धर्ती, यो आकाश अहँ हुँदैहोइन बिर्ता

The Elephant – Gautam Buddha

Silently shall I endure abuse as the elephant in battle endures
the arrow sent from the bow: for the world is ill-natured.
They lead a tamed elephant to battle, the king mounts a tamed
elephant; the tamed is the best among men, he who silently endures abuse.

Mules are good, if tamed, and noble Sindhu horses, and elephants
with large tusks; but he who tames himself is better still.

For with these animals does no man reach the untrodden country
(Nirvana), where a tamed man goes on a tamed animal, viz. on his own well-tamed self.

The elephant called Dhanapalaka, his temples running with sap,
and difficult to hold, does not eat a morsel when bound; the elephant
longs for the elephant grove.

If a man becomes fat and a great eater, if he is sleepy and rolls
himself about, that fool, like a hog fed on wash, is born again and again.

This mind of mine went formerly wandering about as it liked, as
it listed, as it pleased; but I shall now hold it in thoroughly, as
the rider who holds the hook holds in the furious elephant.

Be not thoughtless, watch your thoughts! Draw yourself out of
the evil way, like an elephant sunk in mud.

If a man find a prudent companion who walks with him, is wise,
and lives soberly, he may walk with him, overcoming all dangers,
happy, but considerate.

If a man find no prudent companion who walks with him, is wise,
and lives soberly, let him walk alone, like a king who has left his
conquered country behind,-like an elephant in the forest.

It is better to live alone, there is no companionship with a
fool; let a man walk alone, let him commit no sin, with few wishes,
like an elephant in the forest.

If an occasion arises, friends are pleasant; enjoyment is
pleasant, whatever be the cause; a good work is pleasant in the hour
of death; the giving up of all grief is pleasant.

Pleasant in the world is the state of a mother, pleasant the
state of a father, pleasant the state of a Samana, pleasant the state of a Brahmana.

Pleasant is virtue lasting to old age, pleasant is a faith firmly
rooted; pleasant is attainment of intelligence, pleasant is avoiding of sins

The Saint – Gautam Buddha

There is no suffering for the one
who has completed the journey,
who is freed from sorrow,
who has freed oneself on all sides,
who has thrown off all chains.

The thoughtful exert themselves;
they do not delight in a home;
like swans who have left their lake,
they leave their house and home.

Those who have no accumulations, who eat properly,
who have perceived release and unconditioned freedom,
their path is difficult to understand,
like that of birds in the sky.

Those whose passions are stilled,
who are indifferent to pleasure,
who have perceived release and unconditioned freedom,
their path is difficult to understand,
like that of birds in the sky.

Even the gods admire one whose senses are controlled,
like horses well tamed by the driver,
who is free from pride and free from appetites.
Such a dutiful one who is tolerant like the earth,
who is firm like a pillar,
who is like a lake without mud:
no new births are in store for this one.

One’s thought is calm;
calm is one’s word and one’s action
when one has obtained freedom by true knowledge
and become peaceful.
The one who is free from gullibility,
who knows the uncreated, who has severed all ties,
removed all temptations, renounced all desires,
is the greatest of people.

In a village or in a forest, in a valley or on the hills,
wherever saints live, that is a place of joy.
Forests are delightful; where others find no joy,
there the desireless will find joy,
for they do not seek the pleasures of the senses.

The Awakened – Gautam Buddha

The one whose conquest cannot be conquered again,
into whose conquest no one in this world enters,
by what track can you lead that one,
the awakened, the omniscient, the trackless?

The one whom no desire
with its snares and poisons can lead astray,
by what track can you lead that one,
the awakened, the omniscient, the trackless?

Even the gods emulate those who are awakened and aware,
who are given to meditation, who are wise,
and who find joy in the peace of renunciation.

It is difficult to be born as a human being;
difficult is the life of mortals;
difficult is the hearing of the true path;
difficult is the awakening of enlightenment.

Not to do wrong, to do good, and to purify one’s mind,
that is the teaching of the awakened ones.
The awakened call patience the highest sacrifice;
the awakened declare nirvana the highest good.

The one who strikes others is not a hermit;
one is not an ascetic who insults others.
Not to blame, not to strike,
to live restrained under the law,
to be moderate in eating, to live alone,
and to practice the highest consciousness–
this is the teaching of the awakened ones.

There is no satisfying lusts,
even by a shower of gold pieces.
Whoever knows that lusts have a short taste
and cause pain is wise.
Even in heavenly pleasures one finds no satisfaction;
the disciple who is fully awakened
finds joy only in the destruction of all desires.

People driven by fear go for refuge
to mountains and forests, to sacred groves and shrines.
That is not a safe refuge; that is not the best refuge.
After having got to that refuge,
a person is not delivered from all pains.

Whoever takes refuge with the awakened one,
the truth, and the community,
who with clear understanding perceives the four noble truths:
namely suffering, the origin of suffering,
the cessation of suffering, and the eightfold holy way
that leads to the cessation of suffering,
that is the safe refuge; that is the best refuge;
having gone to that refuge,
a person is delivered from all pains.

A person of true vision is not easy to find;
they are not born everywhere.
Wherever such a sage is born, the people there prosper.
Blessed is the arising of the awakened;
blessed is the teaching of the truth;
blessed is the harmony of the community;
blessed is the devotion of those who live in peace.

Whoever gives reverence to those worthy of reverence,
whether the awakened or their disciples,
those who have overcome the army
and crossed the river of sorrow,
whoever gives reverence to such as have found deliverance
and are free of fear,
their merit cannot be measured by anyone.

The Downward Course – Gautam Buddha

Gautam Buddha

Gautam Buddha 563 BCE – 480 BC


He who says what is not, goes to hell; he also who, having done a thing, says I have not done it. After death both are equal, they are
men with evil deeds in the next world.

Many men whose shoulders are covered with the yellow gown are ill-conditioned and unrestrained; such evil-doers by their evil deeds go to hell.

Better it would be to swallow a heated iron ball, like flaring fire, than that a bad unrestrained fellow should live on the charity of the land.

Four things does a wreckless man gain who covets his neighbour’s wife,-a bad reputation, an uncomfortable bed, thirdly, punishment, and lastly, hell.

There is bad reputation, and the evil way (to hell), there is the short pleasure of the frightened in the arms of the frightened, and the king imposes heavy punishment; therefore let no man think of his neighbour’s wife.

As a grass-blade, if badly grasped, cuts the arm, badly-practised asceticism leads to hell.

An act carelessly performed, a broken vow, and hesitating obedience to discipline, all this brings no great reward.

If anything is to be done, let a man do it, let him attack it vigorously! A careless pilgrim only scatters the dust of his passions
more widely.

An evil deed is better left undone, for a man repents of it afterwards; a good deed is better done, for having done it, one does not repent.

Like a well-guarded frontier fort, with defences within and without, so let a man guard himself. Not a moment should escape, for they who allow the right moment to pass, suffer pain when they are in hell.

They who are ashamed of what they ought not to be ashamed of, and are not ashamed of what they ought to be ashamed of, such men,
embracing false doctrines enter the evil path.

They who fear when they ought not to fear, and fear not when they ought to fear, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil

They who forbid when there is nothing to be forbidden, and forbid not when there is something to be forbidden, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil path.

They who know what is forbidden as forbidden, and what is not forbidden as not forbidden, such men, embracing the true doctrine,
enter the good path.

kavita – jaado

एक्लै छु म
र दिल्लीको सडकमा गर्मी पस्दैन
म बसेको
पाँचतारे होटेलको
दुई सय चौध नम्बरको कोठामा ।
झुग्गीका मानिसहरुको
जाँड खाने भट्टी होईन
एक्लो छु
टेलिभिजनको पर्दा
पङ्खा, एअरकुलर
रक्सीका बोलत
हट डग र ह्याम्बर्गर
सबैसँग आनन्द गर्न सक्छु,
लबी म्यानेजर सुन्दरीका आँखामा
अल्झन सक्छु
खै मेरा ओछयानका उपियाँहरु ?
खै मेरो गर्मी ?
खै मेरो जाडो ?
र र्खै उदास आँखा लगाएर
हिजोदेखि भोकै बसेको मेरो भाइ ?
खै मेरा प्रिय मित्रहरु
जससँग हल्लँदा पनि
अनुभव हुन्छ —म बाँचेको छु ।
बाँचेको छु
तिनै हल्ला र काठमाडौका गल्लीहरुमा
बसेको छु एक्लंै तपस्यारत बुद्धझै
समाधि कसेर दिल्लीको पाँचतारे होटेलमा
र सोच्दैछु
किस्ने छेत्रीले किन माग्यो
मेरो भिजिटिङ कार्ड ?
बाथ टवमा नुहाउँछु
र मलाई सम्झना हुन्छ भक्केमुलाको
लिफ्बाट घरी उक्लेको छु
घरी ओर्लेको छु
र मलाई सम्झना हुन्छ
मेरो घरको लिस्नुको
जसबाट कति पटक पछारिएको छु भुइँमा
बोलेको छु अङ्गेजीमा सिगार च्यापेका ओठले
मलाई कलकत्ते तमाखु राखेर
माइली मैयाँले दिएको
बुट्टेदार सुल्पाको सम्झना हुन्छ ।
बाहिर मानिसहरु मर्दै छन्
तातो हावाको लहरले
र भित्र जाडो छ ।

kavita – antim yuddha

चमेराहरू झुन्डिइराखुन् रूखका हाँगाहरूमा
आकाशलाई पाताल र पाताललाई आकाश बनाइरहुन्
ढोईलाई लगाएर अघि–अघि
अभयारण्यमा लम्किरहोस् मत्त हात्ती
बघिनीहरू घुमफिर गरून् आफ्नो प्रिय जङ्गलमा
र स्नेह गरून् आ–आफ्ना डमरुलाई
हिउँदको चिसोमा
माटाको न्यानो गर्भमा
गुप्त बास बसुन्
या घाम ताप्न निस्कुन् सर्पहरू
स्यालहरू कुदून् बेतोडले
म्याराथुन धावकझैँे
पण्डितहरू मन्दिर जाऊन् या पादरीहरू चर्चतिर
प्रार्थना गरून् वा वर मागुन् आ–आफ्नो ईश्वरसँग
मलाई आपत्ति छैन शासकहरू हो !
यो संसार सबैको हो ।
तर राति झ्यालबाट पसेर चोरझैँ
मेरा जुँगा चाट्न हुन्न चमेराहरूले
मन्त्रीको आदेशमा डाँकाले झैँ
सुकुम्बासी गाउँ नउजाडुन् हात्तीहरूले
खोरका घारहरू फुकालेर
सुत्केरी बाख्राको कल्चौँडो खान हुन्न बघिनीहरूले
सानो दुधे शिशुलाई आँगनमा सुताएर
काममा गएकी छ उसकी आमा
फर्केपछि देख्नु नपरोस्
आफ्नो प्रिय शिशुको छातीमा
सर्पदंशका डोबहरू
कुनै किसानले पालेको कुखुरा
सुटुक्क चोरेर
खोल्सामा लगेर आफ्नो भोक तृप्त गर्न पाइँदैन स्यालहरूले
पण्डितहरू पनि बुझून्—मानिसको बलि दिनु हुन्न
पादरी वा मौलवीहरू पनि बुझून्—
अर्काको आयु ताछेर
आफ्नो आयुमा थप्न पाइन्न
यो संसार सबैको हो ।
संसार सबैको हो भने
मेरो पनि हो संसार
तर मेरो भाग खोसेर कसैले खायो भने
म तयार छु अन्तिम युद्घ गर्न
अन्तिम युद्घ अर्थात निर्णायक युद्घ
जसले फैसला गर्नेछ हारजितको
ए जङ्गल शासक र शिकारी शासकहरू हो !
मेरो सबैभन्दा तीखो हतियार
नैतिकता हो ।

kavita – waripari

देशे बेचेर आफ्नो छोरालाई घडेरी किन्नेहरु छन् वरिपरि
अर्काको काँधमा चढेर सगरमाथा आरोहण गर्नेहरु छन् वरिपरि
जोताएर तमाम मानिसहरुलाई किसान बन्नेहरु छन् वरिपरि
भोक्दै छु एकनाससँग
मलाई लुछ्दै गइरहेका किर्ना, जुम्रा र बिच्छीहरु झैं
केही बाबुहरु छन् वरिपरि ।
हावामा झुलिरहेछन् प्लाष्टिकका रङ्गीन फूलहरु
र जबरजस्ती चुँडिएर
पूजाकोठाको मूर्तिमा चढाइएका छन् सृष्टिका सुन्दर शिशुहरु
परन्तु निःशब्द मानिसहरुको लाटो भीड छ वरिपरि
निहत्था आमाहरुको जमात छ वरिपरि
र ग्रह घुमिरहेका उपग्रहहरु छन् वरिपरि
केही बाबुहरु छन् वरिपरि ।
यो कहाँ हो ?
कहाँ छु म ?
र कहाँ छ यहाँको मानवबस्ती ?
कतिहजार कोष टाढा फैलिएको छ यो अँध्यारो जङ्गल ?
को सँग सोधूँ, कहिले पुगिन्छ मानिसहरुको बस्तीमा ?
यहाँ त केही ताजमहलहरु छन्
जो बनाउँदा काटिए हातहरु कर्मीका
केवल ठुटा हात भएका कलाकारहरु छन् वरिपरि
इतिहास बन्दै गएका केही मानवकृतिहरु छन् वरिपरि
अकुत सम्पत्तिको समुद्रमा पौडिरहेका केही बाबुहरु छन् वरिपरि ।
छद्म समाजसेवीहरु छन् वरिपरि
मृत्यु—घण्टाको रालो अँठयाएर
जबरजस्ती बाँचिरहेका सिकारी चितुवाहरु छन् वरिपरि
सधै घातक खेलमा व्यस्त
व्यूह रचना गरिरहेका केही दुष्टहरु छन् वरिपरि
आगो चोरेको आरोपमा मानिसलाई सजाय दिन सधै उत्सुक
सिकारी द्यौताहरु छन् वरिपरि
केही बाबुहरु र उनका
प्रिय नातेदारहरु छन् वरिपरि ।

kavita – maag

मैले सारिसकें आफूलाई तिमीमा
मेरो प्रिय छोरा
अब म जन्मिसकें तिमी भएर
फेरि पलाइसके केशहरु मेरा
फेरि तिखारिएको छ आवाज मेरो
म फेरि खोज्न थालेको छु
मलाई खेल्न चाहिने
पर्याप्त मैदान ।
पुनर्जन्मको खोजमा डुल्दाडुल्दै
भेटिएकी थिइन् तिम्री आमा
उस्तै त हुन्छन् हरेक आमाहरु
मेरी आमा कलावतीजस्तै
तिम्री आमा शारदा जस्तै
स्नेह, करुणा र ममताले परिपूर्ण
तर तिम्री आमाजस्तै किताबहरु
जब तिमी खोज्छौ
र भेटिन्नन् कतै पनि
त्यस बेला
म फेरि खोज्न थाल्छु
तिम्रो लागि किताबहरु ।
ओह । म चञ्चल हुन फेरि उदाइसकें
उफ्रिन, कुदन र जुलुसमा नारा लगाउन
र केही वर्षपछि
म फेरि प्रेम गर्नेछु
कुनै प्रेमवती किशोरीसँग
त्यति बेला तिमी सार्नेछौ आफूलाई
आफ्नो नवजात शिशुसँग
र म अर्को पटक
समाहित भइसक्नेछु उसमा ।
तर अझैं
जब म हेर्छु तिमीलाई
दगुर्न नपुग्ने यस साँघुरो कोठामा
घरी यता, घरी उता गरिरहँदा
चुरचुर भएर खस्छ
मेरो अमरताको अभिमान,
तसर्थ म माग गर्दछु
यस महान् प्रजातन्त्रमा
आफ्ना निम्ति पर्याप्त मैदान ।

कविता – सीमामा असीम

हे असीम ! सीमामा पनि तिम्रो स्वर ध्वनित भइरहे छ ! मेरो
अन्तःकरणमा पनि तिम्रो मायाले प्रकाश छ !
हे रपरहित ! मति रङ्ग, गन्ध, संगीत, छन्दहरुमा तिम्रो रुप,र तिम्रो
लीलाका बयान मेरो ह्दयमा भरिएको छ !
यसकारण मेरो अन्तःकरणमा तिम्रो शोभा यति आकर्षक छ !
जब तिम्रो–मेरो मिलन होला त्यस वेला सबै समस्याहरु हराउनेछन् ।
संसार–सागरका तरंगका ज्वार उठ्नेछन् अनि पृथ्वी हल्लिनेछ !
तिम्रो उज्वलतामा छाया छैन : मेरो अन्तःकरणमा नै उसले
काया पाउँछ !
मेरा आँसुहरुमा नै उ संतप्त, र सुन्दर हुन्छ,
मेरो ह्दयले गर्दा यसकारण तिम्रो शोभा यस्तो आकर्षक छ !

Ma – Bhupi Sherchan

म एक पुत्र
एक पति
र एक पिता हुँ

एक न्वारान
एक विवाह
र एक चिता हुँ

म एक होटल
एक बोतल
र एक प्याला हुँ

म एक श्रम
एक उत्पादन
र एक ज्याला हुँ

म एक इन्टरभ्यु
एक लामो क्यु
र एक क्यान्डिडेट् हुँ

म एक खाली बिल
एक खाली विभाग
र एक खाली पेट हुँ

म एक सभा
एक श्रोता
एक वाह
र एक ताली हुँ

म नेताजीको एक गीत
एक भाषण
र एक गाली हुँ

म एक जुलूस
ए उफ्र्याइँ
एक नारा
र एक झण्डा हुँ

Galat Lagchha Malai – Bhupi Sherchan

जब म
यी भोकमा डुबेका चोकहरुमा
यी वैलाएका कलीजस्ता गल्लीहरुमा
हेर्छु एक-दुइ दिन बसेर बास
तब मलाई गलत लाग्छ
मेरो देशको इतिहास

यो बाटोमा बीचमा माटो खनेर
बसेका देवताहरु
यो बुझेर पनि लाटो बनेर
बसेका देवताहरु
यो बुझेर पनि लाटो बनेर
बसेका मानिसहरु
यी भूकम्पपीडित मन्दिर

ढल्केका गजूरहरु
यी सालिक बनेर दोबाटोमा
उभिएका हजूरहरु
जब देख्छु म यी सबलाई
सधै त्यहीं सधै उस्तै र
सधै एकनास
तब मलाई गलत लाग्छ
मेरो हुरीको इतिहास
जब म
असङ्ख्य सीताहरुलाई सधै
यूक्लिप्टसका रुखझै नङ्ग्याइएको देख्छु
अनि जब देख्छु असङ्ख्य भीमसेन थापाहरुलाई
निस्पन्द, निश्चल, शिथिल, चुपचाप उभिएका
आफ्नो आत्माको गीत मारेर
कल्कीका बोटझै
दुबै हात तल झारेर
तब मलाई गरुँ-गरुँ झै लाग्छ
आफ्नो रगतको उपहास

जब म
यी भोकमा डुबेका चोकहरुमा
यी वैलाएका कलीजस्ता गल्लीहरुमा
हेर्छु क-दुइ दिन बसेर
तब मलाई गलत लाग्छ
मेरो देशको इतिहास
सुन्छु अमरसिंह काँगडासम्म बढेको कुरा
सुन्छु तेन्जिङले सगरमाथा चढेको कुरा
सुन्छु बुद्धले धरामा शान्तिको बीउ छरेको कुरा
सुन्छु अर्निकोको कलाले विश्व-मन हरेको कुरा
सुन्छु सधै सुन्छु र केवल सुन्छु
तर मलाइ हुँदैन विश्वास

जब म
यी भोकमा डुबेका चोकहरुमा
यी वैलाएका कलीजस्ता गल्लीहरुमा
हेर्छु एक-दुइ दिन बसेर बास
तब मलाई गलत लाग्छ
मेरो देशको इतिहास
यो मेरो सत्य इतिहास ।

Maani Nabhayeko Jindgani – Bhupi Sherchan

आउँछन् जब किरण भोरका
झ्यालभित्र ज्वरको रापझैं
उठ्छु चूपचाप ओछ्यानबाट
घाममा सुकाएको गीलो कपडाको बाफझैं
हराउँछु दिन–दिनभरि घरबाहिर
रक्सी पिएर बिर्सेको पापझै
रातको साथमा घर फर्कन्छु
नशा उत्रेपछिको पश्चात्तापझैं
आह ! यसरी बितिरहेछ जीवन
सन्निपातको रोगीको प्रलापझैं ।

Dui Tukra – Bhupi Sherchan

जहिले पनि भर्खरकी किशोरीजस्ती
साँच्चिकै तिमी हिमालकी छोरीजस्ती
कुन्नि के छ तिमीमा, जो अरुमा छैन
कि तिमीलाई जति पाए पनि थोरैजस्ती

एकलास तिम्रो बाटोमा रमाइलो दिन सक्तिनँ म
तिमी थाकेर ढल्दा सहाराको हात दिन सक्तिनँ म
बर्सनै नपाई डाँडा काटेको बादल मेरो यौवन
चाहेर पनि ए ओइलाउँदी कली ! वर्षाद दिन सक्तिनँ म ।

Aba Kaha Jane – Shyamal 

अब कहाँ जाने ?
केश बनाइसकिएको छ

र दलिसकिएको छ अनुहारमा क्रिम

कपडामा छरिएको छ सेन्ट

र ऐनामा सयौँ पल्ट जुधेका छन्

आफ्नै आँखाहरू

शृङ्गार सकिएको छ

सुन्दरी, अब कहाँ जाने ?


सलबलाइरहेछन् युवाहरू

सिकारको खोजमा

तिम्रो शरीरको आरोपित सुगन्धको

विषालु उन्माद

छरिनेछ हावामा

र पुग्नेछ उनीहरूको नाकसम्म

शृङ्गार सकिएको छ

सुन्दरी, अब कहाँ जाने ?

जताततै फोहोर छ

भोकै छन् मानिसहरू

र तिम्रा बहिनीहरू सस्तोमा बेच्छन्

आफ्नो जवानी

मानिसहरू पछारिएका छन्


र झन्डा उठ्दै छ सहिदको

निर्जीव हातबाट

जताततै फोहोर छ

तिमी जति छर्क

आयातित पफ्र्युम अनुहारमा

जतिसुकै छर्क

झन्– झन् कुरूप हुँदै गइरहेको देख्दै छु म

भित्रभित्र धमिराले खाएको

काठको सुन्दर मूर्तिझैँ तिमी र यो देश

दुवै छन् यहाँ

तिम्रो शृङ्गार सकिएको छ

सुन्दरी, अब कहाँ जाने ?

Poem – The Wise – Gautam Buddha 

If you see a wise person who shows you your faults, 

who shows what is to be avoided, 

follow that wise person 

as you would one who reveals hidden treasures; 

you will be better not worse for following that one. 

Let one admonish; let one teach; let one forbid the wrong; 

and one will be loved by the good and hated by the bad. 
Do not have wrong-doers for friends; 

do not have despicable people for friends; 

have virtuous people for friends; 

have for friends the best people. 
Whoever drinks in the truth 

lives happily with a serene mind. 

The wise are joyful in the truth 

revealed by the noble ones. 
Engineers of canals guide the water; 

fletchers make the arrow straight; 

carpenters shape the wood; 

the wise mould themselves. 
As a solid rock is not shaken by the wind, 

so the wise are not shaken by blame and praise. 

As a deep lake is clear and calm, 

so the wise become tranquil after they listened to the truth. 
Good people walk on regardless of what happens to them. 

Good people do not babble on about their desires. 

Whether touched by happiness or by sorrow, 

the wise never appear elated or depressed. 
Whoever for one’s sake or for another’s, 

does not wish for a son or wealth or power, 

and if one does not wish for success by unfair means, 

that one certainly is virtuous, wise, and holy. 
Few are those people who reach the farther shore; 

the other people here run along this shore. 

But those who, when the truth has been taught to them,

follow the truth, will pass over the dominion of death, 

however difficult to cross. 
Leaving behind the path of darkness 

and following the path of light, 

let the wise person go from home to a homeless state, 

in retirement looking for enjoyment 

where enjoyment seemed difficult. 

Letting go of all pleasures, calling nothing one’s own, 

let the wise cleanse oneself 

from all the troubles of the mind. 
Those whose minds are well grounded 

in the elements of enlightenment, 

who without clinging to anything 

find joy in freedom from attachment, 

whose appetites have been conquered, 

and who are full of light, 

they are free in this world.

Poem -Space Cake, Amsterdam – Yuyutsu Sharma

“Don’t panic,” they said, 

remain cool like your Krishna, 

meditate maybe like Buddha, 

uttering ‘Om Mani Padme,’ jewel in the lotus, 

or lie down and relax 

like Vishnu on the python-bed 

to float on the ocean’s currents, 

buoyant on the invisible thread 

of your breath in slow motion… 
Millions of cats prowled around me. 

Smoke from shared sex 

and hashish joints stung my eyes. 

Unsettling tongue 

of an awkward fire fed my stomach. 

I skidded queasily towards 

towards the formidable edge, 

unknown ominous frontiers of human life… 
They laughed a secret laugh 

behind my back – “Isn’t it crazy that 

this man from Kathmandu should get stoned 

from a piece of space cake in Amsterdam?” 
“Don’t be serious, laugh, 

celebrate the flame of life!” a woman’s voice said. 

“Hold my hand; I can imagine 

you are alone on this trail. 

I’v been there once,” she whispered. 

Her tongue curled like a dry leaf in my ear 

and crackled “How much did you take, 

just a piece? I took thirty-eight grams once, 

It can be crazy if you don’t know it’s coming. 

Just don’t worry too much. 

Don’t lose your control over things. 

You can kiss me if you like, 

You can pat my back, 

tickle my belly or stroke my breasts 

for a while, if it comforts you. 

Sometimes it can be heavenly, 

this licking the rim of the forbidden frontiers of human life. 
“That’s what he wants, that’s exactly 

what he’s looking for,” a voice leered far off. 

“But I have to go ultimately, 

I’ve a man waiting at home for me.” 
“Maybe read a poem of yours,” 

someone said. My heart raced wild 

and I heard some-girls gossip in the next room— 

What if he gets sick in Europe? 

Don’t we get sick in Asia? 

“Just take it easy,” another voice echoed 

“You won’t go psychotic. Remember one thing, 

whatever happens, you can always make a comeback.”

Faces of my dear ones veered past my face. 

I felt delicate thread of my life 

slipping through my fingers 

“Hey man, it’s fine. Don’t worry too much.” 

My host shouted. “Drink lots of water.” 

Drink black tea or coffee,” a guest suggested. 

“Or take lots of orange juice.” 

“Maybe sing your favorite song,” a woman said. 

“Or recite one of your Hindu mantras.” 

“Maybe stick your finger into your throat” 

another voice came sheepishly, “And throw up. 

You probably haven’t digested everything yet.” 
Questions came like wind slaps. 

“Can you tell me what they call boredom 

in your mother tongue? Do you remember 

your email account and password? 

Discuss your children, if you have any. 

Shall I bring my little daughter before you? 

Maybe you’d feel better then, 

seeing her brilliant eyes.” 
I imagined a child’s face and clung to it, 

like a penitent would hold onto 

a sacred cow’s tail in his afterlife, 

and slept on it, all through the river of blood… 
Hours passed by 

and then I heard someone say— 

What if he had freaked out? 

What if Death had stalked our house tonight? 
Hearing these words, I woke up 

knowing I’d come back, stepped on 

the familiar shores of life 

where Death’s feared, a distant distrustful thing. 

My drowse burst like a glacial that cracks 

from rumble of a seed of fire 

that explodes somewhere in earth’s deep sleep.

Poem – The Brahmin – Gautam Buddha 

Stop the stream valiantly, drive away the desires, O Brahmana! 

When you have understood the destruction of all that was made, 

you will understand that which was not made. 
If the Brahmana has reached the other shore in both laws (in restraint and contemplation), 

all bonds vanish from him who has obtained knowledge. 
He for whom there is neither this nor that shore, nor both, him, 

the fearless and unshackled, I call indeed a Brahmana. 
He who is thoughtful, blameless, settled, dutiful, without

passions, and who has attained the highest end, 

him I call indeed a Brahmana. 
The sun is bright by day, the moon shines by night, the warrior 

is bright in his armour, the Brahmana is bright in his meditation; 

but Buddha, the Awakened, is bright with splendour day and night. 
Because a man is rid of evil, therefore he is called Brahmana; 

because he walks quietly, therefore he is called Samana; 

because he has sent away his own impurities, 

therefore he is called Pravragita (Pabbagita, a pilgrim). 
No one should attack a Brahmana, but no Brahmana (if attacked) 

should let himself fly at his aggressor! Woe to him who strikes a 

Brahmana, more woe to him who flies at his aggressor!
It advantages a Brahmana not a little if he holds his mind back from the pleasures of life; 

when all wish to injure has vanished, pain will cease. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who does not offend by body, word, 

or thought, and is controlled on these three points. 
After a man has once understood the law as taught by the Well- 

awakened (Buddha), let him worship it carefully, 

as the Brahmana worships the sacrificial fire. 
A man does not become a Brahmana by his platted hair, by his 

family, or by birth; in whom there is truth and righteousness, 

he is blessed, he is a Brahmana. 
What is the use of platted hair, O fool! what of the raiment of 

goat-skins? Within thee there is ravening, 

but the outside thou makest clean. 
The man who wears dirty raiments, who is emaciated and covered 

with veins, who lives alone in the forest, 

and meditates, him I call indeed a Brahmana. 
I do not call a man a Brahmana because of his origin or of his 

mother. He is indeed arrogant, and he is wealthy: but the poor, who 

is free from all attachments, him I call indeed a Brahmana. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who has cut all fetters, who never 

trembles, is independent and unshackled. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who has cut the strap and the thong, 

the chain with all that pertains to it, 

who has burst the bar, and is awakened. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who, though he has committed no 

offence, endures reproach, bonds, and stripes, 

who has endurance for his force, and strength for his army. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who is free from anger, dutiful, 

virtuous, without appetite, who is subdued, 

and has received his last body. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who does not cling to pleasures, 

like water on a lotus leaf, 

like a mustard seed on the point of a needle. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who, even here, knows the end of his 

suffering, has put down his burden, and is unshackled. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana whose knowledge is deep, 

who possesses wisdom, 

who knows the right way and the wrong, 

and has attained the highest end. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who keeps aloof both from laymen and 

from mendicants, who frequents no houses, and has but few desires. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who finds no fault with other 

beings, whether feeble or strong, 

and does not kill nor cause slaughter. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who is tolerant with the intolerant, 

mild with fault-finders, and free from passion among the passionate. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana from whom anger and hatred, pride 

and envy have dropt like a mustard seed from the point of a needle. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who utters true speech, instructive 

and free from harshness, so that he offend no one. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who takes nothing in the world that 

is not given him, be it long or short, small or large, good or bad. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who fosters no desires for this 

world or for the next, has no inclinations, and is unshackled. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who has no interests, and when he 

has understood (the truth), does not say How, how? 

and who has reached the depth of the Immortal. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who in this world is above good and evil, 

above the bondage of both, free from grief from sin, and from impurity. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who is bright like the moon, pure, 

serene, undisturbed, and in whom all gaiety is extinct. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who has traversed this miry road, 

the impassable world and its vanity, who has gone through, and reached 

the other shore, is thoughtful, guileless, free from doubts, free from 

attachment, and content. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who in this world, leaving all desires, 

travels about without a home, and in whom all concupiscence is extinct. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who, leaving all longings, travels 

about without a home, and in whom all covetousness is extinct. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who, after leaving all bondage to men, 

has risen above all bondage to the gods, and is free from all and every bondage. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who has left what gives pleasure and 

what gives pain, who is cold, and free from all germs (of renewed 

life), the hero who has conquered all the worlds. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who knows the destruction and the 

return of beings everywhere, who is free from bondage, welfaring 

(Sugata), and awakened (Buddha). 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana whose path the gods do not know, 

nor spirits (Gandharvas), nor men, 

whose passions are extinct, and who is an Arhat (venerable). 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who calls nothing his own, whether 

it be before, behind, or between, 

who is poor, and free from the love of the world. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana, the manly, the noble, the hero, the 

great sage, the conqueror, the impassible, the accomplished, the awakened. 
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who knows his former abodes, who 

sees heaven and hell, has reached the end of births, is perfect in 

knowledge, a sage, and whose perfections are all perfect.

Poem – Old Age – Gautam Buddha 

Lord Gautam Buddha  563 BC - 480 BC

Lord Gautam Buddha
563 BC – 480 BC

Why is there laughter, why is there joy 

while this world is always burning? 

Why do you not seek a light, 

you who are shrouded in darkness? 
Consider this dressed-up lump covered with wounds, 

joined with limbs, diseased, and full of many schemes 

which are neither permanent nor stable. 

This body is wearing out, a nest of diseases and frail; 

this heap of corruption falls apart; life ends in death. 
What pleasure is there 

for one who sees these white bones 

like gourds thrown away in the autumn? 

A fortress is made out of the bones, 

plastered over with flesh and blood, 

and in it lives old age and death, pride and deceit. 
The glorious chariots of the kings wear out; 

the body also comes to old age; 

but the virtue of good people never ages; 

thus the good teach each other. 
People who have learned little grow old like an ox; 

their flesh grows, but their knowledge does not grow. 
I have run through a course of many births 

looking for the maker of this dwelling and did not find it; 

painful is birth again and again. 

Now you are seen, the builder of the house; 

you will not build the house again. 

All your rafters are broken; your ridgepole is destroyed; 

your mind, set on the attainment of nirvana, 

has attained the extinction of desires. 
People who have not practiced proper discipline 

who have not acquired wealth in their youth, 

pine away like old cranes in a lake without fish. 

People who have not practiced proper discipline, 

who have not acquired wealth in their youth, 

lie like broken bows, sighing after the past.