Niraj Dahal
That distant sun
Comes to touch me every day
But my grandchildren playing in the front-yard
Do not come to touch me.
The sun doesn’t abhor anyone, does it?
For years, I touched you
Though, it has been fairly long that you haven’t touched me
My son! A sickly mother
Is not mother-like, is she?
Let no ailment ever fall on you, my son!
My daughter-in-law
Walks past me from close, safely avoiding my touch
The sprays of her spitting
Fall on my shawl
My son! Ask her if
Her mother at her home never falls sick.
My husband
Brought me along
Promising me his company all my life;
The very next year of our marriage
He was snatched away from me by death.
Who on earth can tell me
How long the life of a promise is?
My mouth sometimes
Pines for hot water;
But my hand about to get dismembered from me
Cannot break open the lock
Daughter-in-law has hung on the kitchen door
I am at home
But far away from my family
While waiting for the earth to come and meet me
I happened to become the sky myself
Visible to all
But in the company of none
When sick
An individual starts longing for Aryaghat;
I too have started pining for it these days.
My son! The day you were born
I had shed tears of joy;
Do tell me only one thing:
On the day your ailing mother dies
Will you shed tears of joy
Or those of sorrow?
Tears fall on both these moments, after all!
[Translation: Mahesh Paudyal]
[Niraj Dahal (b. 1996) is a Nepali poet from Jhapa District. His poems have been collected in Ujyaloka Maliharu, a joint collection of verses by young poets. He is presently based in Kathmandu, and is pursuing his bachelor’s degree in English from Tribhuvan University.]
Inside Home
Must read
