Suman Pokhrel
BIO
Suman Pokhrel is a poet, writer, and translator. He was awarded the SAARC Literary Award in 2013 and 2015, and his work has appeared in notable journals worldwide. Suman Pokhral is also a lyricist, playwright, and artist. His poems have been translated into Arabic, Bengali, French, German, Hindi, Italian, Maithili, Odia, Persian, Sanskrit, Spanish and Urdu. His poetry is included in the syllabus of Language and Literature Study at Tribhuvan University and Purwanchal University in Nepal.
Abhi Subedi
BIO
Born in Terathum of eastern Nepal, Dr. Abhi Subedi (अभि सुवेदी) received his higher education in Nepal and Britain. He is an essayist, critic, linguist, playwright, translator, and poet. He has over two- dozen books on different subjects to his credit. Among his over ten plays, strong theatre groups in Nepal and abroad have performed several of them. Professor Subedi has taught for 40 years at the Central Department of English. He is vice-President of the Nepali Folklore Society of Nepal. He is the founding former President of the International Theatre Institute (ITI) UNESCO from 2000—2008 and member of International Playwright’s Forum from 2000-2011. Subedi became President (1990-1992) and two times General Secretary of the Linguistic Society of Nepal. He was also President of the Literary Association of Nepal. He is vice-President of the Nepal Folklore Society and member of the International Association of Theatre Critics. He is involved in several interdisciplinary study groups and a prolific writer on issues of freedom, culture, literature, arts and social transformations. His essays and seminar papers are published in Nepal and outside.
While Parting
I’ve also felt
all windows were watching
all walls were listening,
I’d also felt at that time
streets and footpaths were speaking,
one’s veils were lifting.
I’ve felt
even when I was walking
even when I was stopping
all trees and birds
sky and stars
bosoms and bangles
were seeing everything.
It’s true
in that hesitation
whether to stop or proceed
get off or get over,
all roads had appeared
unfathomable.
It’s true
I had also read
on the face of surroundings
some broken
some disconnected
some cracked expectations.
I’ve touched some sentences
and have kissed some words.
Eyes that obstruct the road can be removed
but what happens when hearts block the passage?
that’s why
I’ve also pretended not to see
the windows and walls.
At such time
it has also seemed to me
there’ve been conspiracies against me,
search for instruments
to hit me in my words
has also been going on.
I’ve also felt
those eyes and looks
have also been sending a river
of the flowers of feelings somewhere,
raising a hill of the aromas of imagination.
And have experienced at such time
my mind sleeping in the joy of love.
and have felt some arid passion taking me somewhere
lopping off sensitive branches of life.
At such moments
felt my mind wake up with the temptation of life
gathering courage for flowering beauty
even in the desert of living.
Do not think
I’ve reached where I am now
by slipping like a landslide
or evaporating like a cloud.
I’ve climbed up here
holding the hilt of time’s sword
after driving it
into my tender heart.
Whether anybody comes to convince me or not
a part of my life does always ache
arresting my chest.
बिदा हुँदाहुँदै
तमाम झ्यालहरूले हेरिरहेजस्तो पनि लागिरहेकै हो
तमाम भित्ताहरूले सुनिरहेजस्तो पनि लागिरहेकै हो
त्यस बेला
ती सडक र पेटीहरूले बोलिरहेजस्तो पनि लागिरहेकै हो
आफ्ना आवरणहरू खोलिरहेजस्तो पनि लागिरहेकै हो।
मैले हिँडिरहे पनि
मैले अडिरहे पनि
तमाम
वृक्ष र चराहरूले
आकाश र ताराहरूले
वक्ष र चुराहरूले
देखिरहेजस्तो पनि लागिरहेकै हो।
त्यो द्विविधामा
अडूँ कि बढूँको
उत्रिऊँ कि चढूँको,
तमाम बाटाहरू अगम्य लागिरहेको पनि हो।
केही फुटेका
केही टुटेका
केही चुक्किएका
केही आकाङ्
क्षाहरू पढेको पनि हुँ
परिवेशहरूका अनुहारमा।
केही वाक्यहरूलार्इ छामेको पनि हुँ
केही शब्दहरूलार्इ चुमेको पनि हुँ।
आँखाहरूले बाटो रोके त पन्छाउनु पनि
मुटुहरूले बाटो छेके के गर्नु?
त्यसैले
ती झ्याल र भित्ताहरूलार्इ
नदेखेझैँ गरेको पनि हुँ।
त्यस बेला मेराविरुद्ध षडयन्त्र भइरहेझैँ पनि लागिरहेकै हो,
मेरा शब्दहरूमा मलार्इ प्रहार गर्ने सन्यन्त्र खोजिरहेझैँ पनि लागिरहेकै हो।
ती आँखा र हेराइहरूले
भावनाका फूलहरूको एउटा नदी कतै पठाइरहेझैँ पनि लागिरहेकै हो।
कल्पनाका सुगन्धहरूको एउटा पहाड कहीँ उक्साइरहेझैँ पनि लागिरहेकै हो।
त्यस बेला, मेरो मन मायाको आनन्दमा निदाइरहेझैँ पनि लागिरहेकै हो।
जीवनका संवेदनशील हाँगाहरू भाँच्दै
कुनै नीरस मोहले मलार्इ लिएर कतै गइरहेझैँ पनि लागिरहेकै हो।
ती क्षणहरूमा
मेरो मानस भोगाइका मरुभूमिमै सौन्दर्य फुलाउने आँट लिएर
बाँच्नको लागि ब्यूँझिरहेझैँ पनि लागिरहेकै हो।
म अहिले जुन ठाउँमा छु
नठान्नु होला
यहाँ म पैह्रोझैँ बगेर पुगेको हुँ
वा बादलझैँ बाफिएर।
आफ्नो कोमल मनमा
समयको तरवार रोपी
त्यसैको बिँडमा समातेर उक्लिआएको हुँ।
कसैले सम्झाए पनि नसम्झाए पनि
दुखिरहन्छ जीवनको एक अंश
मेरो छाती समाएर।
Song of Soul
May I splinter away from myself
break into whole units
and
live in each with perfection!
This ME
made whole by
combining countless fragments
could not live in any one part
with complete ease.
May I show a true model
of deconstruction to Derrida
by taking off parts that make up my being!
So that I would see
one man fallen off me
shambling down the street,
and continue to speak in assemblies
with full ignorance of the subject,
continue to review the news of the world
by stuffing them in his brain
and go yapping in the crowds
fully content in the perfection of
his inferior sphere.
The other one
brooding over the ledger books
and the personal files
of the employees.
May the next one always keep reading,
the other looking after children
and still another swimming
in love all his life.
May the other fragment – the ‘me’ whom I don’t like
remain shut somewhere in the room.
May one other splinter engage
in inner decoration of the house
and meet the hunger of needs.
If he cannot do so
may he fragment himself further
into contractors
supplying vegetables, miscellanies,
clothes, and fuels
and sorting out other mess.
May one other part
forgetting that he is my splinter
continue to clap on each stupid action
of his boss, shaking head, and
remain busy in his little puppet moves.
May the other take responsibility of
television, radio and newspapers.
May the other still stay repeating the news of
the relatives and acquaintances
fulfilling formalities of wellbeing
embroiling in the phatic–
where? what? how?
participating in all of sixteen rituals
and birthdays.
May the other one continue to repeat
the non-news of his immobility
and continue to go to places
where people gather,
and go doing something like that.
May I hold an assembly
of the proportional representation
of all my selves.
may I go out with the poet
by leaving all the others
in their chaotic meaningless arguments.
May my poet remain a poet
in its perfection
unattached to my domesticity
full of scarcities;
may he remain separate
from a job savvy me
who has sold his self-respect.
may my poet disengage itself
from my being
swayed by my brain.
May I discard the outer cover of time
from the layers of poetry
by immersing the poet in its entirety
within me, and
dismantle geography’s barriers.
may I break the windows of consciousness,
break further the dilapidations of waking moments
and emerge into the bright world of dream.
May life remain enamored of its own charm
may the river of love always flow from its own lap
may my pain remain drunk singing its own love songs
and the dead body of agony remain asleep
resting its head on a pillow of flowers.
may I free myself from the labyrinth of knowledge
run away from the jungle of thoughts
and jump from the hill of illusion
into the mind’s speedy currents.
by stepping on this joint of time.
may I pack all inventions in burlaps
and hide them in corners of Einsteins’ brains.
May I free myself from the ever-pressing chest
and enter the garden of imagination
by leisurely hiding brain on hill summits.
May I take off clothes covering shame at the border
leaving them hanging on dry trees of arrogance
and run by wearing the rays of the sun.
May I create plain fields by collecting clouds
and bedeck them with arching rainbows.
Playing ball of wind
reaching the other end of The Road Not Taken
may I call in Robert Frost by holding hands
and request Ginsberg to recite Howl
facing the world.
May I bet with Devkota sitting contentedly
by receiving his lord’s blessings
that you are a poet who has written epics
and win a bagful of stars.
May I exchange T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland
with the future of this earth like a lunatic’s dreams
and make one season of poetry farming
by tilling with the pen of desire.
Oh, this ME
made with so many fragments
could not make any achievements!
May I then splinter away
from myself
and live only with the poet.
मनको गीत
फुटूँ म आफूबाट
टुक्रियूँ मेरो सम्पूर्णताका एकएक अवयवहरूमा
र
बाँचूँ सबै टुक्रामा पूर्णताले।
यावत टुक्रा जोडिएर बनेको
यो मले
बाँच्न सकेन कुनै भाग पनि
धक फुकाएर।
आफूबाट फुकालेर आफ्ना निर्मितिहरू
देखाइदिऊँ विनिर्माणको एउटा साक्षात् नमूना
डेरिडालार्इ।
मबाट भत्किएको एक अंश, एउटा मान्छे
हिँडिरहोस् सडकमा लम्र्याङ्लम्य्राङ्,
बोलिरहोस् अज्ञानले भरिपूर्ण भएर सभाहरूमा,
दुनियाँका तमाम खबरहरू हालेर मथिङ्गलमा
समीक्षा गरिरहोस् र कराइरहोस् भीडहरू माझ,
निमग्न रहोस् आफ्नो लघुताको पूर्णतामा।
अर्को घोरिइरहोस्
व्यापारका हिसाबकिताब र
कर्मचारीका व्यक्तिगत फाइलहरूमा।
एउटा पढिरहोस्
एउटा केटाकेटी खेलाइरहोस्
एउटा प्रेममा पौडिरहोस् आजीवन।
मलार्इ मन नपरेको एउटा टुक्रो म
कतै कोठाभित्र थुन्निइरहोस्।
एउटा चोइटो
घरका भित्री आवरण सिँगार्न र
आवश्यकताका भोक मेटाउन लागोस्।
भ्याउँदैन भने टुक्र्याओस् आफूलार्इ अझै
तरकारी, मसलन्द, लत्ताकपडा
इन्धन र अरू लठिबज्र हेर्ने
ठेकेदार मान्छेहरूमा।
एउटा भाग
मबाटै टुक्रिएको भन्नेसमेत बिर्सेर
हाकिमका हरेक मुर्ख्याईँमा थपडी बजाइरहोस्
हल्लाइरहोस् टाउको र
व्यस्त रहोस् कठपुतली चालहरूमा।
एउटाले जिम्मा लेओस्
टेलिभिजन, रेडियो र अखवारहरू।
आफन्त र परिचितहरूका हालखबर घोकेर बसोस् एउटा
सन्चोबिसन्चोका औपचारिकता पुर्
याइरहोस्
कहाँ?, के?, कसो?का चासोहरूमा रुमल्लिरहोस्
सोर्हसंस्कार र जन्मदिनहरूमा सहभागिता जनाइरहोस्।
अर्को
आफ्ना गतिहीनताका अ-खबरहरू भट्याइरहोस्।
गोष्ठि, जमघट र केजातिहुँधो धाइरहोस्।
एक साँझ
भेला गरेर सबै आफूहरूलार्इ
एउटा समानुपातिक सम्मेलन गराऊँ।
अरूलार्इ छाडिराखेर गन्जागोलको निरर्थक बहसमा,
निस्कूँ
कविलार्इ लिएर।
मेरो कवि
सम्पूर्णतामा कवि नै रहोस्
नटाँसियोस् अभावले भरिएको मेरो गृहस्थसँग।
अलग रहोस्
स्वाभिमान बेचेको मेरो जागिरेसँग।
छुट्टियोस्
मस्तिष्कले थिचिराखेको मेरो जीवबाट।
कविलार्इ हालेर आफूभित्र सम्पूर्णतामा
म
कविताको पत्रबाट
समयको खोल झिकेर फ्याँकूँ
उक्काऊँ भूगोलका डिलहरू।
फुटाऊँ चेतनाका झ्यालढोका
भत्काऊँ विपनाका खण्डहरहरू र
निस्कूँ सपनाको उज्यालातिर।
जीवन आफ्नै अँगालामा लठ्ठिइरहोस्
प्रेमको नदी आफ्नै काखबाट बगिरहोस्
वेदना मेरो प्रेमगीत गाएर मात्तिइरहोस्
पीरको लास फूलको सिरानीमा निदाइरहोस्।
ज्ञानको जालोबाट फुत्किऊँ
भागूँ यो विचारहरूको जङ्गलबाट
समयको यस आँख्लामा टेकेर
भ्रमको पहाडबाट फालहानूँ मनको वेगमा।
तमाम आविस्कारहरूलार्इ बोरामा कसी
लुकाइदिऊँ आइन्सटाइनहरूका मस्तिष्कका कुनाहरूमा।
सँधै थिचिरहने आफ्नै छातीबाट निस्किऊँ
मगजलार्इ देउरालीमा फुसर्तले थिचिराखेर
पसूँ कल्पनाको बगैँचामा।
लाजको आवरण सीमाना मै फुकाली
आडम्वरको थाङ्
ग्रामा टाँगिराखेर
घामका किरण पहिरिएर दौडिऊँ।
बादल बटुलेर मैदान बनाऊँ
इन्द्रेणी टाँगेर सिगारूँ।
हावाको भकुण्डो खेल्दै
नहिँडेको बाटाको पल्लो छेऊ पुगी
रोबर्ट फ्रोस्टलार्इ हात समातेर बोलाऊँ र
दुनियाँतिर फर्किएर प्रलाप सुनाउन आग्रह गरूँ
गिन्सबर्गलार्इ।
प्रभूको वर पाएर
निमग्न उग्राइरहेका देवकोटासित
तिमी महाकवि हौ भनी
बाजी थापूँ र
जितूँ एक झोला ताराहरू।
बौलाहाको सपनाजस्तै यस घर्तीको भविष्यसँग
साटूँ इलियटको बाँझो भूमि र
रहरको कलमले जोतेर
एक बाली कविताको खेती गरूँ।
यावत् टुक्रा मिसिएर बनेको
यो मले
गर्न सकेन कुनै उपलब्धि।
फूटूँ म आफूबाट र
केवल
कविलार्इ लिएर बाँचूँ।
*****
