Quest for name and fame

Written few weeks ago, still unedited, lacking enthusiasm to edit it anyway. This speaks about me, and lot of other people. But I was uncomfortable to post it as I thought it will be directly linked with me. But now, I don't want to deny my quest for finding my own 'niche', doing something good for the world, being known as expert of at least one obscure thing. What can anyone do anything new anyway? Americans have already been to moon, Arundhati Roy already wrote a book that got her booker Prize. So, is there nothing left to be done? That's what plagues most of us ordinary beings, who just dream, who do not work, but just aspire to be someone without doing nothing. I am trying my best not to be end up like this.

When one is surrounded
by Whiz kids
by role models
by Heroes ( including women)
There is always a gnawing thought inside
That eats me little everyday

I see my hair graying
My body expanding
A slow realization dawns
I have become nothing
I have become no one

I have not been able to leave my marks
I will not be in pages of history
I will not be remembered
I will not be applauded

I have not found my 'niche'

I am not an expert of
a single obscure issue

What is this
This quest for fame
This quest for name
That restlessly pushes me

Isn't that is what pushes
our power hungry politicians
Our religious fanatic gurus
Our savvy stars

But then, do we work
just for its sake
or for its rewards?

Poem is just about anything. I saw one lady crying in WIRE office, I don't know the reason. I could not find out. But still, I find the idea fascinating that she after all came to the right place, where she will be listened to. Sometimes, women need a space to cry, just to cry and cry.

Life is a pain

at times

things go wrong

Problems pile up

one after another

One disaster complements another

I cannot bear it anymore

I cannot hide it anymore

I cannot ignore it anymore

I need someone to talk to

But I was alone

No one to ask

No one to talk to

I wish I had

just someone to hold on

Someone just to listen to me

While I cry

Someone to hand over the

tissue

and say' I know'

'I understand'

'I know what you feel'

But where is this person

Who would listen to me

even without knowing me

Without judging

Without prejudice

Then walking over

to get coffee

in lonsdale street

Busy street of melbourne

I just entered into WIRE

Someone asked me there

'How are you'

That caring voice

opened the flood within me

I cried

I cried

and I cried even more

I had reached the right place

to be listened

not to be helped

to enable me to 'help myself'

This poem is dedicated to one of my very good friend, Handun. Thank you dear for all that you have been to me. Even poems cannot express!

Someday

Somewhere

Discovering someone

who is 'no one'

in the beginning

and gradually with succession of

lunch, laughter and 'girl talk'

we gradually bond

How long does it take

for stranger to

turn into 'friends'

and then again 'friends'

to turn into 'best friends'

Is it a slow progression

that happens over discussion of

recipes

academic discussion

personal dilemmas

With you it happened

With abrupt halts and progression

It happened slowly

Gradually

Our friendship is growing

Blooming

Mellowing

But yes,

'goodbye' time is coming too

But, It is just a physical separation

In my corner of heart

You will always remain

In a safe compartment

You have a room of your own

Which no one can claim

Different culture

Different taste

Different countries

Different language

Different personalities

Yet friendship happens

It is because of you

that this 'unknown' land is

not strange anymore

I am gradually feeling

that I 'belong' here

Another recovered one again! I am excavating and opening some closed closets and finding some treasures, which are my own! well may be dream for anthology is not that far now! good!

This time,
When we meet,
I will ask no questions,
And don't you offer any answers.
Just let the thudding beat of hearts,
Speak the language of passion.

I will lock the past in closet.
And don't you probe,
the future prospects.
Lets not wear watch that day,
Let our feelings set its own timing.

Let's not speak,
Let the silence prevail.
And let it remain that way,
Soft and cool.
Hiding the burning desire,
Beneath that facade.

But EYES!
our eyes,
Will decode that hidden message.
It will interpret all those silent years of longing and waiting.

Something profound will happen that day.
The hidden volcano,
Buried inside our heart,
The lava of love
Will spill out.
BANG!
EXPLOSION!
Everything will be submerged in throes of passion.

So, what's the use of these
Questions and answers.
Of past and future.
Of problems and solutions.
Of certainity and confusions.

That instant moment,
Everything will be clear.
Everything!!!

But that day,
Oh! that day,
When would be that day?
Perhaps, this november

It was somewhere in between the year of 2004 I wrote this I am sure. I laugh while I read this. I recovered it suddenly! amazingly!

.....................................................
I am sick and weary
Of hoping and coping.
With your inbearable attitude,
And I am myself
Tired of this waiting,
Caring and raving,
For your little words,
small kindness
And tiny gestures.

Now at this point,
I find myself asking.
Why me? always me?
To start something,
To share something.
Yes, it has been me all along.

You are always,
Shut like a clam.
Speaking nothing.
Like a dark mirror,
You reveal nothing.

Ok, be the way you are.

But, I am tired of this game.
I am sick of this,
Role of faithful admirer of yours.

It's time, I start beleiving,
That no mattter how much anyone tries,
It's impossible to ,
Love without condition.

I am tired of this,
Self-sacrificing love.
I am afraid.
To turn into martyr.

Something in my heart,
Breaks now.
I hear a silent crash.
Yes, my dreams have broken.
Faiths have shaken.
And my positive attitude has,
Desolved in thin air.
Which I had rebuild after such a long time.

My thoughts are always,
Full of gloom and doom.
And I am desperately worried.
That's why I sent you that message,
" Don't worry, be happy"

Kathmandu

I miss you

despite your dirty streets

pollution in the air

that flares my nostrils

I even love

countless hours of load shedding you have

I love your darkened streets

I love your candle lit homes

Where we all hunch together to talk

Where we switch of television and

suddenly 'channel war' between siblings

cease to exist

I love you for your spontaneity

Everyday when I am out of my home to work

I can never predict

whether I will reach to work in time

One single incident

like a bike

hit by a car

turns into a 'class war'

in few minutes

Tyres burning all around

Slogans

In an hour, we face 'Bandhas'

I even love these

"Bandhas'

When I can sit back

and blame all those

good for nothing politicians

Life is surely hard

Dark

Dangerous

in Kathmandu

But never for a minute

it lulls us into nothingness

There is always something to be angry about

There is always something to be happy about

And aren't these emotions important!

That is what keeps us alive after all

These strong emotions,

for me, it is a sign that I live

In contrast,

Imagine living in a city

When everyday,

You know that you are going to reach to work in time

when everyday you take the same bus

Or same train

You never speak

Everyone has a book to read

No one shouts and no one screams

There is however always a blank stare

That tells me 'you do not belong'

In Kathmandu, I dare to shout

When I am in a crowd of people

I lose myself,

But also there are stares that follows me

There are gossips that tracks me

I am 'someone' in Kathmandu

Thus, It is Kathmandu where I belong

Where I eat 'chana chatpate' on the way to campus

Where I haggle and bargain for 2 Rs

Where I get wet when car passes by me and

bestows me with a muddy water

Then I shout

Then I curse

and move along

Yes, it is Kathmandu

Where I truly belong

This is something i wrote long time ago, in my ' lonely abroad days'. I rediscovered it suddenly shuffling pages of my old diary. My eyes are still moist!

In this train
that goes somewhere
I am going nowhere
reaching nowhere

Without you
There is no journey
I am travelling towards a big void

I came from somewhere
to reach nowhere
It seems my life is
just standstill

It is just same morning
That I don't want to wake up to
I don't have your loving embrace
to refresh me

I have no one
Here, in this 'abroad'
To share, to care

This long distance love
based on emails
and occasional minute calls

I live only in these moments
your words ,
news from home.

I see shubham in your words
I am hugging him through your words

My son far away
from my bosom,
from my embrace

I am just a far distant voice
for him in a mobile phone
I see his childhood growing
in my husband's emails

Each year
at this day,
Present year ends
and new year begins
In between that,
We grow little older
Little saner
Lets not talk about big changes
But think big with small deeds
Each year,
Lets review
What we were
What we are
And what we will be
Each year in wake of change
Lets review
Ourselves
Lets search that inner voice within us
To discover our true selves

Happy New Year 2066

What am I avoiding

and thus what I am confronting!

Something is going down the drain

Something is missing

Something is being destroyed

Something precious

as we both recognize

Something we are killing

softly

with our indifference

With our 'small talk'

of trivial matters

Price of Stupidity!

what is the price

One can pay for

Stupidity

For not knowing

an outcome

For every mistake done,

It is not mistake in the beginning

Rather it is a possibility

which might either turn into success

Or failure

or something that is neither

but in the middle of both

So, if one does not dare

One does not risk

What will be the outcome

No actions

No outcome!

No risks

No mistakes

Thus,

I paid a price today

Literally something big

but still small for peace of my mind

I should let this go!

Dollar

Dollar Dollar

A price in dollars

Converted to Nepali don't know

how much it would be

Thus, I am speaking

Literally and figuratively

At this moment,

I am just thinking

Of various other prices

I have paid for daring

For thinking

For taking risks

But I would continue doing it

I know

But I would have rather liked

to pay this 'huge' price

to someone who had truly

benefited from it

I wished I could have a choice

to give it like 'donation'

Be a saint outside

while hiding my sin within

Isn't what people do all the time

at least some group of people

committing sins all their life

being corrupted

And when end approaches

They wish to go to pilgrimage

Take a bath in 'ganga'

to wash of their sins?