Tuesday, March 31, 2015

When a Lie Becomes Imminent -Dutendra Chamling






As children,
           we marveled at the flights of Demossile Cranes
           flying hither
           from across the Koshi
           crooning melodies of their heart.
           filed in a line like a wreathe
           Before long,
           they would dart away
           Mother would then, tell us—
           towards the mountains in Tyamké
           across the hills of Urleni.
           in small caverns along the walls
          'Kids! It's time, we should be sowing cucumber."
           See would then look for seeds
           poles at our backyards would be lush
           and in pouches, bound into knots
           and stored safely in clay goglets.
           In a few weeks,
           with juvenile cucumbers
           hanging like a madal. 
My son, yesterday, beseeched me
          to bring home a cucumber;
          I, however returned home empty
          from Ratnapark, the cherished field of the jobless.
          but I thought hard and consoled myself, 'No crane ever flies
          My wife reprimanded me
          over the skies in Kathmandu.'
          sowed when no cranes were flying
          And that gave an exit—
         'Honey; we shouldn't be eating cucumbers
          in the sky.'

Madal: an elongated drum, typically Nepali
Translation: Mahesh Paudyal


* Posted in  Sahitya Sangrahalaya , 5 April 2015

https://sangrahalaya.wordpress.com/2015/04/05/when-a-lie-becomes-imminent/

No comments:

Post a Comment