The Autumn

Dedication:To all the mortals to remind that our lives are like the subjects of cruel Autumn.There is no spring as vivid as for nature yet we live intact life after life.

The selfish autumn when fate gives it a life
Takes away worth of existence.
Those ornaments of nature,
Along the thickets
Along the streets
Along the high ways
Along the rivers
When the curse of nature befall on them
Like a thunder
The departure marks
The farewell of gorgeous life:
The reign of silence and
The appearance of ugliness,
Albeit for short term, songs
Of absence of the soul of nature
Rings beep deep in our ears and
Nothing but when spring
comes next,world becomes golden brimmed again.

Our life bears its duplication,
When season changes from time to time,
And devil autumn rules the world
The death with its sack
Bait the snare
To abduct the immortals
Away to the strange place.
Like the dress of nature
We shed our breathe and fade
Into nothingness and
Our presence become a history.
Unlike the spring that gives life back to the nature
There is no vivid season in mortals
Unless when prophesy reveals
Another birth of our soul
We remain nowhere.
Yet we shall live in history,
In memories
In legends
And life after life;
Unlike the nature's green
we survive in books and pages.
We survive in the virtues
we painted the summer for myriad lives.
Yet we shall never hear our own history
Nor will we narrate ours own.

Prem K. Bhattarai
B.Sc Sustainable Development
CNR

Tribute to the past lovers

Of the past:Of those role models
I shall sing.
Of those divine souls that existed until the end;
Until when fate cheated them,
Until when the envy of cruel death
Eroded them into eternity.
They loved once.
Married once,
And settled once.
They pledged few oaths
yet nurtured until the nature revolted.
They met once but loved forever.
Holy drop of water
embodied love,then.
Oh! where has time dumped it,today?
Where has today postponed it's existence?
Destiny would shy away,they say,
By the power of a pinch of vermilion;
Dead would delay the expiry of feelings
Until when breathe betrayed the body.
Wrinkles and scars spoiled but nothing;
Beauty or ugly,
Good or bad times
Arguments or agreements
were but the slaves of those hearts
For they destroyed nothing.
Charms and miracles survived
In the typical way love was accepted;
Bliss and fortunes grew as two committed souls aged.
Together they cried,laughed and pushed
Evils that attempted
and barred their ways.
Devil bowed down in their meeting
And love sang while trust danced.
Divine survived everywhere
in the home
in the field
And in the heart of the lovers.
Of that blessed era:Of that little world
I remind you.

A piece of Advice to the youths

"

Perhaps i am harsh upon you,
Perhaps i am soft.
But listen to me again for now.
Hear me and evaluate yourself,
For i may speak wrong on you.
To those that close devotees of Lord,
I might cleanse your filth of falsehood.
To those who despise him
And sleep on the lap of evil,
I might provoke you.
No sweetness,no butter-nothing yummy,
yet i hold the truth.
The truth you must spit upon
Or the truth you must lower you head for.
In those 19th and 20th centuries,
They say,truth sang from every lip
And hearts nurtured the reason:
Love begged the alms door to door,
Love and truth and bliss,
care and conviction and hopes
cling in every inhaled air.
In the market,
In the thickets,
in the house,
in the hut,
in the lips
and in the heart,
Truth and love gleamed.
Those once-seen faces,
Those parent-decided decisions
saw its real end.
There was an obvious begin
and the obvious end.
Marriage,they say,is the knot
that ties two souls forever.
How pure and sacred it used to be-
Those swears and oaths taken
when the vermilion marked the partition of a bride
remained divine and eternal.
Didn't the wind shake the strength of those oaths?
Didn't devil hatch conspiracy to undo the knot?
They lived till the end.
They embraced Lord
And end to them was when
The cruel death baited the hook.
Did you you compare yourself?
Did you see those devotees?
God is where truth exists.
Thus,if you want to see god,
Mimic those mortals
that not now will remain a mere history.

"'Prayers to the god""

'

Oh god,oh the father of the world,
Oh,the creator of the destroyers!
Where has silence crumpled you?
Where has the world barred you?
In temple,they say,you reside.
In sacred places,
In the busy markets,
In the heaven,
you exist;
But why are you absent in mortals;
In their dirty heart.
In their filthy mind
In their destructive hand?
Are you protecting those-
Those who are against the truth,
Those who wear the mask of false words,
Those who speak from the swine's shed?
Where the world has collapsed
not with the outdated pillars
but with the outdated thoughts-
Not with the absence of good people
but with the presence of filthy ones-
are you not there,dear father?
Come once.dear father,
Visit me once
and bless me with the wisdom
with which i can subdue the ignorance,
slay the falsehood,
bury the ego
fight the falsehood
and cleanse the world
with holy thoughts of truth!
Oh god,dear father,
Bless me with the the courage
and a love to fight for evils,
protect the innocents
and help them kill the false truth
that has ruled their lives

Realities and the fictions

Like in the fictitious movie,
Reality holds the duplication
That reflects the role of every character.
Like reflected in the movie
The role of those poor villagers
and the stupid goons,
our life gets entrapped into accepting the defeat without fighting.
The thousand villagers
when ruled by ten goons,
and when those innocent soul
die breathing life that devils rule,
my nerves used to get disturbed
and i would think and curse them;
what the hell coward people they are!
Oh no...reality and dreams and fictions are related
and this,i knew not then.
Films are the reflection of truth and reality,
the bitter reality,
the indigestible reality.

"Love,the fake one of today"

Today's lovers;the young generations,
Listen to me,listen to my cry-
Listen with your love,not anguish
For this, few of you might take it as an insult,
Few as an advice;few as the concern
And many more at you own wisdom.
where have you buried those old days?
Where have you abducted those sweet traditions?
Why have you murdered their existence?
Love,they say,is a song of two hearts;
Property of the down trodden souls,
Courage of the cowards
Wealth of the poor
and breathe of the breathless dwellers;
The cry of the trumpets that emerged from the true heart,
The vibrations of the drums that moved a tough heart,
The cymbals,the violins ,the flute and many more;
Why have you snatched their value?
Where have you discarded their sweetness?
Love,i heard,pure,sweet and beautiful it used to be,
why have you contaminated it?
why have you destroyed its beauty?
Like a- once- upon a time's holy
water that sang it's beauty
In the heart of river Ganga
that enchanted millions,
Love once upon a time was everyone's desire
And no mortals thought of dying without being loved.
yet today,
Those desires are fading in man.
Once upon a time they survived to love,
but today,they die for love.
For the impurities that today's generation
has added on its sacredness.
Listen:Hear me once,dear today's lovers:
Clean the filth that has inflicted many,
purify the contamination,
Spare the world from the virtue of fake love,
Bring back the sweetness,purity
and old tradition.
Lets reunite and revive the true love
and let go the fake love of today.

Is there GNH?

Where lives are at stake

But remains unobserved,

Where people cry out loud

But becomes inaudible to the should –hear ears.

Where happiness philosophy is sold out cheap

But the lives are expensive to buy,

Is there GNH?

Where the birth happens in front of our eyes,

Yet lives remain unrecognized;

Where getting identity is impossible,

And we become alien to our land

Is there GNH?

Where you become neither wild nor domestic,

And lives remain dead in wait,

Where your wait never ends

And you leave the world unrecognized;

Is there GNH?

Where census updates and registration

Remains a dream of many,

Where the fault of parents and grandparents

Are revived and penalized;

Is there GNH?

Where narrow domestic walls of ethnicity

Exists that bar the entry of one from others,

Where lips chant baza Guru

And heart holds the dragger;

Is there GNH?

Where people are sad

Yet they pretend to smile,

Where they scream with complain at heart

Yet fear to sing with lips;

Is there GNH?