Baba Basnet
Plunging into the burning pyre alive
I became a scapegoat; a sati
To your traditions.
As Badini and Deuki
I was caught in your grand snares.
For ages
I made my existence a meal of your hunger
In the form of Jhuma.
Still, I am enduring chhaupadi
Letting my silent scream
Get stitched with a pin.
Master
What did I spare to make you more powerful?
By making my original childhood translate into exquisite make-up
You hung me from a window at Basantapur
You named me a ‘Kumari’
And necks that were gaining age
Closed their eyes and drank all tender streams of my youth dry.
Stepping on the head of the onlookers
I am adding height to the civilization at this hour
From the same height I commence
An altogether new history.
Sorting out the evil traditions of patriarchy
I am flinging away the black weevils and litters.
I shan’t obey your evil mores and customs anymore
If you can, shackle my thoughts
With your handcuff all eaten up by rust
Make is stand on the same decayed witness box
You may call my move a revolt of mutiny
I am ready to endure every sort of punishment
For my crimes.
As one goes drinking
All the poisonous traditions
A person becomes an ocean
It’s true, my master,
I also became an ocean.
No sun shines over an ocean
Rip me, cut me into peaces
No blood spills out of the ocean
Only that—
The ocean pukes volcanoes
Though it remains placid and calm.
I am the same Sita, my master!
The one who endured flames
To make you Rama.
I am the same Draupadi
Who bore all impotence of the Kurukshetra
And added manliness in the five Pandav brothers
In order to save the Mahabharata.
Yes, I am the same Mandodari
Who brightened the entire Lanka
Relaying the bellows of Ravana.
By sending out of home
All daughters of King Janak
When your existence became an ideal one
By absconding home
Leaving your wife and infant baby behind
When the Buddhatva in you earned the name ‘Tathagat’
I became a maid, my master.
And thus, I became a mockery
Of idealism and scholarship.
For that reason
By revoking courage in idealism and scholarship
I am nurturing ambrosia
In the fertile terraces of ideas.
Enough! Do not tell me
Your outdated talismans, my master!
I shall myself make the policies for me.
After an excessive doze of the venom of evil traditions
When one grows immune to poison
A person becomes an ocean.
It’s true, my master
I have become an ocean.
Baba Basnet is a Nepali poet and fiction writer. She has been writing since 1983, and till date, she has published more than a dozen of works, including collections of poems, songs, stories and essays. Her renowned works include Dhartiko Susesi (poems), Baluwako Ghar (poems), Seto Phariya (poems), Gantabya (stories), Unyu Phulepachhi (stories), and Raat ki Rati (novel). She is an executive member of Devkota Lu-Xun Academy, Senior Vice-President of International Nepali Literary Society (Nepal Chapter) and currently, the Central Vice-President of INLS, representing Asia. She is the recipient of Gunjan Talent Award, Bhanubhakta Gold Medal from Nepal Government (2014), Byathit Kavya Literary Award (2014), and many other honors and felicitations.