Category Archives: poetry

I have a dream…


I have a dream…

that one day my children, their children and their grandchildren shall all embrace this nation as their god-given home
and not some rented shack that they choose to leave when the cracks start appearing …

I have a dream…

that one day, my little boys and girls shall be judged by the glow in their eyes,
and not by the accent of their voices;
by the aura of their deeds,
and not by the surname of their forefathers …

I have a dream…

that one day, every grandmother, her daughter and her granddaughter
shall all live within a breath of each other,
weaving monuments of love to leave behind,
just like in the past with those temples, ‘chautaris’ , gompas or ‘mithila’ art…

I have a dream …

that one day, leaders of our nation shall be judged
not by their herd of their followers, but by the leaders they build
that our little boys and girls shall brave this world
no longer as fearless mercenaries but as fearless citizens
that once again, “guests will be gods” and rivers will be holy,
villages will be youthful and our smiles will be for real…

And I have this dream …

that each morning, I shall walk down my lush terraced coffee gardens,
to find strangers from afar, sipping a cup of our one of a kind coffee..
and every single time my wrinkled hands joyfully come together,
to welcome with a “Namaste…”

I have a dream …

inspired by Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream”

म त गुरु मान्दिन

गुरु हुनुहुने साथीहरुले चित्त नदुखाई पढिदिनुहोला :

म त गुरु मान्दिन

हातमा लौरो बोकेर
टेबुलमा ठोकेर
हाम्रो सातो लानेलाई
नपढाई जानेलाई
म त गुरु मान्दिन
झुक्न पनि जान्दिन !
प्रश्न सोध्नै नदिने
हाम्रा कुरै नसुन्ने
तँ भनेर हेप्नेलाई
सधै मुर्ख देख्नेलाई
म त गुरु मान्दिन
झुक्न पनि जान्दिन !
स्वस्थ्य शिक्षा पढाउने
आफै धुवाँ उडाउने
फोहोर लुगा लाउनेलाई
सधै ढिला आउनेलाई
म त गुरु मान्दिन
झुक्न पनि जान्दिन !


शिशिर ढकाल
कक्षा -८ , ब्लुमिंङ् स्कलर एकेडेमी

फेसबुकका पोस्टहरुबाट साभार गरिएको यो लेख हो। धन्यवाद रवीन्द्र मिश्रलाई, ध्यानआकर्षण गरिदिनुभाकोमा।

Nepal Bandh

Recall this shell-shocked face?
went mortally embarrassed today
hope’s taken a thundering smack down,

As this city of five fold a million woke up
a ruthless mob of five fold a hundred cracked down,
held hostage to this city of lost souls,
their blades sharpened with our cowardice,
their seething passion fueled from our hollow despairs

as this sheep wanders aimlessly
down these bare streets of Kathmandu
am left red-faced by her nakedness,
spikes after spikes of anguish shoot up,
herds of poker-faced zombies march past me,
fear imprinted on their drained faces,
crushed by the sight of mere couple wolf packs

The reign of wolves runs rampant
ruthless rulers of a kingdom of million weak sheep
a land, where dues are paid with fear
and despair is the only  currency
while they lick our fear
will you dance to these mad pipers
As we march towards a cliff of despair
Us, ‘poor, waylaid ‘ sheep, tis time to make a choice

Maybe some god will pity you and me, maybe …
maybe god is just one of us cowards, maybe …
Perhaps she will rise from us, perhaps …
perhaps she will replace that fear with hope…

Till then, here’s to remember you and me,
“to this long line of  fear-struck
self-pitying sheep of five fold a million…”

(I wrote this a couple of years ago yet is as relevant as ever to our apathetic state and lack of responsibility as Nepali citizens).
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