By Momila
Life turned all but water
I spilled here;
Quenched someone’s thirst there
And drifted a corpse somewhere
Here,
The Ganges had to flow alone
But the Tukucho flowed along too
When I had to take a flight like the clouds,
I silently poured down.
Life turned all but water…drifted a corpse somewhere.
I had to craft saligrams* out
But I meandered along and drifted away;
I had a warm rinsing touch to tender,
But I melted on collisions
Life turned all but water…drifted a corpse somewhere.
I had to decorate pearls
That sparkle on foreheads
I had to clean the sordid hearts
Being holy elixir
I had to juice the dry desert
When chilly turned this life and froze
I happened to fall in your front,
And when sizzling I got hot and burnt,
A flame besieged me from within,
Nuptial or funeral processions
Both went alike for me.
For, I meekly spilled out of the eyes!
I wanted to befriend the lake
Till I breathed my last
But I dried out against my will
At the sun’s very sight
The desire to freeze within
Crashed, for I fell from the eyes
Life turned all but water…drifted a corpse somewhere.
If I was doomed to spill,
I could at least become a mirror
Why was I condemned to hang
On the eyelashes,
Cursed to be mopped with a tender touch?
Even as I tame my senses,
I transform into the colors of a rainbow.
My inebriated self
Transmutes into Baikal *within
When I had to live as clouds
I got auctioned into the sea, instead.
Time and place mattered little to me,
And dropped even down the eaves,
Roses or ferns were one to me,
I went as dews on every leaf
Life turned all but water…drifted a corpse somewhere.
Life is all but fluid,
To be drunk and that is all!
Life turned formless
With no definite volume!
Life fumed as smoke, and with it
I subsumed into the fog
Bruises blighted all over me
And I am smiling over the resultant scars
If only life were interminable!
I turned into the gloom of the dusk, instead.
I happened to thaw at the frontier
When, I had wished to go along
Firm like a mountain
Life turned all but water…drifted a corpse somewhere.
saligrams* : a stone that becomes round and smooth after repeated striking with other stones as it flows along with the river water. This rare stone is considered an incarnation of Lord Vishnu by the Hindus, and is worshipped.
*Baikal: the Black Sea
Trans: Mahesh Paudyal
[Momila Joshi (pen name Momila, b. 1967) ) is one of the finest Nepali poets well known for her literary crafts and recitation skills. She has to her credit five books of poetry and a collection of essays including Paiyun Phulna Thalepachhi (After Cherry Goes Blossoming, 1995), Joonkiriharoo Orlirahechhan (Down Come the Fireflies, 1998), Durgam Uchaimaphoolko Aandhi (Flowery Storm on Unattainable Height, 2004), Selected poems, 2013 and Bhimsen Thapako Suicide Note (Suicide Note of Bhimsen Thapa, 2014) and Ishwarko Adalatma Outsiderko Bayan, 2007 with its English translation An Outsider in the Court of God, 2010 (A Collection of Lyrical Essays). She is the Chairperson of Nepali Kalasahitya Dot Com Pratishthan (Nepali Art & Literature Dot Com Foundation) and Chief Editor of literary magazine Kalashree and web magazine www.nepalikalasahitya.com /www.nepaliartnliterature.com.]