After you are gone...

 There's a void in my heart 

obviously, an irreplaceable one.

How much I have loved watching you grow,

you fall in love, laughing at nonsensical jokes,

you fluttering like a butterfly,

rising every day to shine.

How I longed to see you live,

live every moment after your rent victory

but you left, leaving this emptiness

unbreakable, unreplaceable emptiness

I can be a new me

but an old one, I don't know

if that is ever going to be in your absence. 

5W 1 H Questions on Fear

 Fear, 'Daar'

I wonder if it wasn't there

how would I be,

"free", you say. From all the expectations and the boundaries.

Who would I be?

"Me", you say. The core,

that accepts me as a whole

with all her flaws and insecurities.

What would I see?

The vulnerabilities that reside in every nook and crannies

of human arteries.

Where would I be if fear weren't there?

"Is life possible without the feeling of fear?"

A rhetorical question;

yet I ask why is it there?

the fear, the scare, the trauma, the anxiety

the condition I guess,

from the society

when would I flee

from this fear, Daar from the society?

I guess, the day when I will finally accept me,

"the bithcy, the ugly, the ignorant me."

Without any question

without any judgment me. 

Sometimes I hate being woman

 Sometimes I hate being a woman

the other times, I dislike hatred as an emotion.

For the days when I crave love,

I understand there are most of the days

I hate; so hate being loved.

The apathy that the hormones generate

The irritation that I frequently get

The anger,

The dissonance and the disconnection

Why couldn't my life be simple

where I could just love and be loved

I question

Why should I be the one paying the 

a penalty just for the reason of giving birth to a new life?

Shouldn't I be getting the respect I deserve for bearing all that pain;

before and after begetting a new human?

Why does my body succumb every month to a disaster that is bound for an eruption?

Why there are only few days that I like to talk while the rest of the other

I just like everyone; everyone

including me to shut the fuck up.

Sometimes I so hate being a woman

for how all these pain are just taken as a means to blame you,

shame you, or to laugh at you.

the other times, I dislike 'hatred' as an emotion. 

Sometimes I wonder...

Sometimes I wonder

how the unconditional love that we promised,

is centered between our legs,

its exclusiveness between him and her, her and him,

the purity of our body, 

and the act that is just between thee.

sometimes I wonder,

what do you call a mistake, 

the expression of emotions on the submission of it.

Who is the victim, you, me or him,

Who is the culprit?

I, you or the others?

Or is it easy to blame the time,

that little pinch of time that

we could not be mindful of or the one 

when we were overtly mindful?

What is love?

The one we felt yesterday

when we were far yet close

or the one that we are living today

close yet far.

Sometimes I wonder how we are similar yet different

than Shakespeare's Romeo Juliet.

Alive in our bodies,

but dead in our thoughts.

Apology

 As much as the love I shower

Probability is that, however,

Obedient aren't my thoughts always

Lacks the empathy, my heart some days

Objectification of emotions was not the intention

Grateful for your presence

Yours and only yours truly, dearly I am sorry. 

Let's hang up...

 Years, it has been, years tath you are gone.

Most of the days, I feel like I have moved on.

I find myself in the warmest of arms

I giggle in the brightest of charms.

Did I stop breathing after you?

No, of course not.

I have counted each breath and lived 

each and every moment.

I have seized every other opportunity

that you wanted me to have it. 

I agree that I stumbled, yet didn't fall.

I cried, yes, I cried, yet I didn't die.

I found love, yes I found love again.

Yet, yet there's a string

in my heart that shimmers

in those lovelies of moments,

and wrenches my heart,

takes me back 

throwing me to the moment

when you had asked me to wait for your call.

But you left me where no network gets signal.

sometimes it's the song that you sang.

The other times, its my mellow heart itself

longs for you to call my name. 

Don't I love the one who calls me love now?

Oh, yes more than may be I had thought of how,

yet, I am weak in that flicker of a moment.

That longs for your last phone call and 

only wishes for you to say "Let's hang up". 

The Size of my Breast

 I was 10 years old when I realized my chest had lumps,

actually, two lumps growing.

I never shared; feared 

how the conversation would gear.

But it gave me pain, excruciating pain

making me feel I would die.

Few days into it, my mom

noticed, gave me a whit samij,

a tight wear beneath my shirt that helped me hid my lump,

and told, "tero supari dana chhop",

 hide your area nut, a metaphor

for our budding breast.

I hid it, hid it with all my width

until I was 20 and my boyfriend

wanted to touch it.

I removed his hand in agony 

terrorizing with the thought

how it hasn't grown much

since the day I had hidden it in bay.

He pleaded, I slowly unbuttoned

and placed his hands 

on my bosom, it pained more,

different than before

still his hands placed there

he share, "timro ta kasto sano raicha"

"Your breasts are small."

It kept on repeating, repeating and repeating:

heating up my heart and mind,

I rushed to buy

a padded bra that, with a piecing rod

it pained again, yes different,

it even left a mark on my chest

looks like a red smile underneath my 

pink nippled breast.

I turned 30, the journey continued.

I wonder how my breast feels confused

if it knows its size,

its actual size,

how it looks, red or pink, small or big?

Who am I?

It is confused.

I know just like me it wears a personality

and adjusts based on its outer covering. 

Let me hold...

 Let me hold this time

pause the moment when 

you were high on rhyme

all focused on exploring inches of me

one by one

length and breadth

giving me goosebumps,

an experience 

where I succumbed, screamed, and leaned

back into your arms

Let me hold the time back. 

If only you could...

                                                                    I wonder why don't you see 

yourself with my eyes,

If you do, you would see

the maddening soul

that won't need any substance to feel high.

I wonder why you don't hear yourself with my ears.

If you do, you would listen to

the intelligent heart

that needs no validation, 

external for that kickstart.

I wonder why you don't touch yourself with my hands,

If you do, you would feel

how warm and cosy you are,

you yourself would feel.

I wonder why don't you smell yourself

with my nose.

If you do, you would smell the perfume of belief that emirates

in each air that you breathe. 

I wonder why don't you taste yourself 

with my tongue.

if you do, you would taste

the recipes that life has 

made for yourself. 

I wish I could say this to you

every time you are down,

trodden and devasted. 

I wish I was that close to you.

Alas, I scroll down that comment button with the hope that

someday my feed would revisit a glorious post

made by you that has hope, belief, happiness, and victory. 

The First Kiss

 You tasted like brown sugar

Yes, brown sugar, milder to the lips 

deep molasses flavor to my tongue tips

like a perfect crystalized toffee

you smelt like a mixture, yes a mixture of rum and cigarette

irresistible and creamy, but just 

right enough to make it dreamy.

You touched me warm, yes warm like an old handwoven

sweater

thin in layer but thick enough 

to exfoliate my dried flair

I saw you me, yes me

who is intertwined with hope and fear

and heard your heartbeat

like a murmur soft enough to calm 

your breath but heard enough to 

stop the fluttering of my pounding heart.

Hey you, can you believe 

I can still feel you in my lips, tongue, eyes, ears, nose,

and in my every single breathe, 

our first kiss

Departure

Some anticipation
Some mystery
Some worries
and some victories
What this morning holds
in its grip?
I try to unleash and cherish,
the brightness of its beam.
This morning departure
hopes to bring an evening reunion
of love, joy, and aspiration.

Tears of Joy

Tears of joy
rolls by
even from the rocks
when the sun comes and turns
its ugly patches in brightness
and makes her look a real highness.

Contemplation

Thoughts to contemplate
Questions to dissect,
in this hussle and bustle of life;
does the company matter
or is walking alone better?

To the Companion

Dear companion,
Thanks for rowing along,
the boat of life
that carries you and me,
and so many of our dreams.
Whenthe sun dims and sets
thanks for being there to contemplate.
Nature is rude.
It makes me think of life without you.
But then, dear companion.
I cherish your presence.
My love for you has grown immense.
I vow to dive into you,
create moments that I can treasure
that you can treasure
for the day death preludes.

Autumn Romance

Just incase,
if the things turn out different,
not so afflunet,
then we will just be those autumn leaves,
who lived thier life in bliss;
till the moment the sun was there,
enjoyed the color it had in spring
and leave gracefully.

A Delightful Flight

Amazingly beautiful they looked,
when they flocked back in their group.
The sky was quite dark,
sun was slowly leaving its mark;
the group slowly fluttered its wings.
May be they had thousand miles to flip.
Chitter chatter, they called their friends;
soaring high like a legend.
Graduall, they reached those clouds
I guess, they had someone to scout
to take them back home
sothat they could sleep sound in thier dome.

म, एक भ्रम

न म तिम्रो अतितमा थिए,
न म तिम्रो भविष्य नै हु ।
त्यसैले मलाई वर्तमानमा पच्छ्याउने नगर,
म केवल तिम्रो भ्रम मात्र हु ।

तिमी जस्तो ठुलो सपनाको शहर म देख्दिन ।
तिमीलाई थाहा नै छ, म ती सुनौला गहनाहरुमा रम्दिन ।
म अझै नि उड्ने गर्छु
मेरो आफ्नै कल्पनाको दुनियामा,
जहां मैले पोतेका रंगहरु तिमीलाई फिक्का लाग्छन् ।
मेरो संसार तिमीलाई सानो लाग्छ,
अनि मेरा शब्दहरु अर्थहिन ।

शुन्दरताको तिमी पुजारी पर्यौ
म त अझै भावना मै विश्वास गर्छु ।
माफि नदिएकी हैन तिमीलाई
यत्ति हो म अचेल म आफुलाई धेरै माया गर्छु ।

साथी तिमी आएनौ ।

साथी तिमी आएनौ । 

झिसमिसे विहानीमा सम्झाए थे मैले तिमीलाई

साथी, आज भेट्नु पर्छ है । 

अनि मीठा मीठा कुरा गर्नुपर्छ, 

तिम्रा शब्द र मेरा शब्द बिचमा

जुहारी चलाउनुपर्छ, 

भाखा मिलाउनुपर्छ, 

शब्द मै आशा व्यक्त गर्नुपर्छ,, 

निराशा पोख्नुपर्छ,

शब्द मै हांस्नुपर्छ,

अनि शब्द मै तिम्रो र मेरो मित्रताको बखान गर्नुपर्छ । 

मध्यान्नमा पनि फेरी सम्झाए मैले तिमीलाई 

साथी आऊ है तिमी । 

आज धेरै दिनदेखी गुम्सीएर मनभित्र रहेका शब्दहरुलाई बाहिर निकाल्नुपर्छ, 

नचिन्ने भए होलान् सायद तिम्रा मेरा शब्द आजभोलि, 

धेरै भयो नि हामी नभेटेको, 

एकपल्ट फेरी परिचय गराउनुपर्छ । 

मुसुक्क हासेर जवाफ फर्कायौ तिमीले 

अनि म हतार हतार,

नगरी श्रंगारपटार 

दौडिदै आए 

मनमा अनेकन शब्द संगाल्दै 

तिमीलाई सुनाउन

तिमीसंग फेरी एकपल्ट शब्दहरुको गीत गुनगुनाउन

तर साथी, 

अंहं तिमी आएनौ 

खैर, केही छैन 

तिमी निस्ठुरी भए नि मेरा शब्द निस्ठुरी छैनन्

वर्षदैछन् फेरी पनि । 

एक्लै भएर के भो ? 

शब्दको आखिर काम नै यही हो । 

एकान्तमा भावनाको  साथ दिने 

व्यग्रतामा आशाको विज रोप्ने 

अनि फेरी निराशामा नि 

मलाई हांस्न सघाउने । 

Seclusion

Because some battles are to be fought alone.

***

What do you do?

When you are the only one who stop seeing the sky blue

When life happens actually that you didn't plan to do

When you are single,

to go through this ordeal;

when you can't smell the flowers others wait to smell

When every other person is happy and you are in pain.

When the rope of hope that you have been lingering on goes weak

Wherever you look, your vision goes bleak.

Sharing would have of course helped,

but the person around you isn't yet ready to emulate.

***

What do you do?

Hard to choose;

either to fight back or set yourself loose.

Yes, some roads are to be walked alone. 

What if?

P.C. Pinterest

I looked into his eyes, 

he looked into mine; 

Feelings were there 

deep enough to plunge. 

Ughh! we just stared blank

fearful of the depth.

We both returned.

Ahh! 

What if we had dared?