Once an old friend of mine asked,

About me and my poetry,

Its simplicity and its glade.

I said, well that is it.

The way I write and my thoughts.

He wasn’t satisfied and yet he nodded down,

Our converse came to an end.

He parted and I too made my way,

In the piazza I stopped,

I turned around.

I found myself all alone.

My inner voice spoke,

Why do you fear?

I was aghast, I smiled.

Again I walked.

Darkness surrounded me,

I was in my bed,

Friend’s query and my inner voice,

Both came to glare at me,

I had a stroke, a choice of one,

I had choose my voice,

My inner voice.

I knew what I learnt from this,

This world is an idiom, smaller it is.

Every word and illusion over.

What I see cannot be peek otherwise.

What I think cannot be feel otherwise.

So who is who to ask me?

About my poetry and me.

6-12 aug 2004

wr

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Fluttering heart had thousand wings,

Lusty world wasn’t et al enough,

I screamed below the blue horizon,

All off maddy field that was broad.

Welcome to my world, my dear.

Sweet love and great reminisce,

Is all, which are you and me?

My days are yours,

Yours is mine.

I dream for you,

Shower me with your hue,

Petal of faith I ask,

It is all I can say?

Be with me,

With me in my blue horizon!

Daydream that got lost ago,

That music has again strike,

I find myself in a sound sleep.

Slept that with a pleasant moist,

Pleasure thoughts revolves around,

I sway, I promise,

I welcome you, to my life

Welcome you to my

…..blue horizon.

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तिम्रो त्यो रूपको झझल्को
बाँच्न मलाई किन दिदैन
हर घर्डि मलाई प्रस्न गर्नीए गर्छ
निक्को भाईसकीएको घाउलाई सल्बलाइदिन्छ

मन्न लाई खुशी पार्दै हुन्छु
टिम्रो मुहर अगिही अैदिन्छ
मेरो झुकय्को नजारलाई बेर्थाइ नसाम्ज्ह
म त खाली एउटा जिव्दो लाश छु

तिमी देखी टाराह्,धेरै टारह भैइहलेय्
सन्जोक् कसरी भनु, मैले गरएको भूलको, सजाइ हो प्रियेय्
खुशी छु म तिमी देखी टारहभाई
आफ्नो आसु पीयेरह् ठिकै छु म, यो बाहेक के पो भन्न सक्छु प्रियेय्

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An illusion of my thought

Sometime I find myself,
In a position I am unknown,
Like an illusion and still a fact,
Many ways to go,
And yet I am off nowhere.

Well, could be the season’s song,
Or the memories of different thought.
I wish, I could come up,
To scale the thought of hell.
I know I am not alone,
With all my vision still bright,
Yet rusty I go and the cry……

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Farewell Steve...

Gentleman game misses you,

Search of the crowd hail you,

We miss you, Steve, we miss you.

Wonderful memories you gave,

Pleasure of the game you shared,

As every Aussies, we too hold.

The grudge of splendor,

That would be no more.

The original “Mr Cool”,

The real “Mr Dependable”,

For the best you have served,

For the best you have performed,

This is the tribute to you.

The man of the moment,

Solvate the thrush you posted,

It’s a great beginning, to a beautiful end.

Farewell Steve, farewell

For the memories you gave.

Farewell Steve…

23-29 Jan 2004

WR

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My mother

O! The moving air, O! The moving air,

When you move around, did you hear of my mom?

I feel, she is somewhere there beneath the blue sky, she hides.

She is timid, she is shy, look for her, and you might get her.

Do tell her, we miss her, Do tell her, we still believe her.

Our world has not changed; our memory isn’t so bad,

Unplugged we do live to her; do tell her, we love her.

O! The moving air, Help me send my message, Help me on my words.

Memory keeps on coming, Eye dries up every morning,

But the moment is still alive, alive to my heart, alive to my breath.

I keep on saying, there shall come a day, someday,

We shall meet again, Where I shall again touch her, feel her.

If you happen to meet my mom,

Promise her to visit us, to the same place,

To the same heart, where she left for forever.

O! The moving air.

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Sukhim, Sikkim and me!!!

Shital Pradhan

Singtam, Sikkim

It was an awesome dream,

A dream that had million trims.

I saw a battle being fought,

A battle that had no army men,

No weapons and no horses,

And still it was a war,

A great tussle of words.

A shinny man in old torn cloths,

Touching his withered forehead,

Caught on with the debate,

I tried my best to recognize him,

But the wrinkled face fooled me.

Upon I look to the other side,

A debonair, dashing,

Determined face he had,

I took a chance,

And went close to him,

I easily found his freshness,

Phoney it did not looked.

But I felt, I should,

Ask both of them,

Their existence,

And the word for their fight.

The beard man looked right towards me,

He saw my sleeping suit and looked his upon,

He rubbed his eye and moved his lip,

Slowly he told, he was “Sukhim”.

From the past he had come,

For the truth he had came,

But surprised, his days have ended.

His dreams of serene beauty is gone,

His fight for the existence is gone,

All lost to the hollow space of time,

Alas he cried, alas I am dead now

I was aghast

Sure, I knew nothing at all,

I thought of myself,

Is he the one I used to search?

Or, the other side of my hard pain really,

I looked at that old fellow

And smiled……

The others man’s face,

Pierced through my eyes,

I too was aware now...

I whispered, are you “Sikkim”?

He looked in my eyes,

Nodded his head,

And in a sarcastic way,

Asked me, who are you?

Me, I told…well who am i?

Neither a part of Sukhim,

Had I recognized me,

But I am afraid.

Nor Sikkim recalls me,

Really what am i? Who am i?

I closed my eyes…

I see the great land of Demajong,

People living in serene valley,

With happiness and shelter around,

And from somewhere I hear a moan,

I search to the cry, I try, and I tried,

A baby I found, lying in pain,

Dust, pebbles, thorny arms reaching her,

I went to the baby and lifted her,

She smiled and made me surprise,

I looked below the ground,

And all the things were gone,

I was taken aback,

The baby girl touched my eye,

And I could feel it,

I rubbed my eye and ah!

I was back from my dream.

I could not understand

The tale of the baby and still,

I gave a thought,

…i found my way back,

I went near Sukhim and Sikkim,

They awaited my lips reading,

My thought, my degree of existence!

Well I said,

“I am the future of Sikkim,

And the past of Sikkim”,

They looked at each other

And went through the air.

Never could I find the way out,

The debate of the two thoughts,

And the sudden vanish.

Well, I kiss my night,

And speak to myself.

There shall be another day,

Where I shall again see,

Sukhim, Sikkim and me!!

19-25 dec, 2003

Wr

NB: Sukhim is the earlier name of Sikkim

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