Auspicious dreams

I wondered if

there had been a reason

to think of you

that would explain

you walking into

my dreams

but then

why would I need a reason

to think of you

who are always on my mind

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Sunflower

You looked forlorn

thinking you were alone

not knowing

that i would always

always

come looking for you

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Notice

Notice

it is of course

well known

how men

steal

women’s labor

their cooking

their cleaning

their remembering

every appointment

and calling it all

love

and family

but lately

i have also been noticing

how they also steal

the woman’s

joy

like

all her joy

how the men who have wives

are

as they say in nepali

rato-piro

glowing

joyous

their cheeks rosy

their eyes twinkling

a smile always ready

a laugh always booming

and the woman next to them

is always

gloomy

drooping

tired

exhausted

sighing

once you see it

you cannot unsee it

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hierarchy of affection

 She greets everyone differently

And it is up to us to figure out

And squabble over

The hierarchy

Of her affections

Depicted by it

Some, she greets with a smile

And a ready yelp

With which she jumps

In their direction

One could say

This is the height of

Her attachment

Others,

She greets with a shy,

Hesitant smile

And will go to them

In a few minutes

One could say this is

Coyly affectionate

Still other,

she greets by showing them

Something

She is preoccupied with

Something like a book

Or a picture, or a toy

Just a deflection

Or projection

Of affection

A seeking, of attention

One could say

And then there is someone

Or maybe just one

Who she might greet

Not necessarily with a smile

Whom she blithely ignores often

To explore new realms

Or to delight

In play, in society

Or a laugh or a yelp

But looks at

With a desperate yearning

In times of distress

I would like to believe

The hierarchy

Is not settled

By smiles

But that would just be

wishful thinking

युद्धको विभत्सता

हिजो युद्ध विभत्स थियो
एक अर्काको ज्यान लिन उद्दत
पुरुषहरु
रणभूमीमा उत्रिन्थे

आज समय यति विभत्स छ कि
हिजोको युद्ध
आदर्श जस्तो देखिन्छ

आज 'पुरुष' भनाउँदो
हजार पत्रे किल्लाभित्र बसेर
मात्र बोलीको भरमा
ताकीताकी
बच्चाहरुको ज्यान लिन्छ

Ghar

Years ago

When someone said to me

Women always have one regret 

That they wish they had

Married into

A different house 

Somewhere 

They didn't have to 

Work so much

And i thought 

What nonsense 

These days

Women are capable 

Of doing things

On their own

Living their own lives

Making their own decisions 

Accomplishing 

Their own tasks

Or choosing to walk away

From unwanted ones

And besides 

It matters who you marry 

Not which family 

You marry into

And today 

I can only look back

At that girl's naivete 

And smile 

What a fool was I

You guys carry on

And I'll join you later

He always said

Anytime there was

Something 

He didn't want to attend

A shraddha, a festival 

A ritual, a community work

A death of someone distant

And he never did attend 

Anything that needed 

Even a little bit of 

Emotional labor 

Always, always giving time to

His own pursuits

His own interests 

And how foolish was I

Believing that

Just because I managed 

To shirk these 

Unpleasant responsibilities 

Once in a while

When I was young

And ostensibly studying,

I could avoid them

Forever 

And live his life of 

'tapasya' and 

'noble purpose'

Purpose

Coming to the conclusion that

There is no such thing as 

Masculinity 

Because 

All that is masculine 

Is also feminine 

(As the men like to say,

Humanists... 

Because all humans are

Human first of all...)

But yes, there is a great thing

Called femininity 

And that is not merely

'humanism'

Because they do something 

That other humans don't 

Namely, give birth

Which leads to

Lots of knowledge 

This femininity 

Is very, very hard to pin down

Very, very hard to put a finger on

And name, and articulate 

Because, often,

If you say one thing

Is femininity

Immediately 

Someone will pipie up and say

But my dad is like that 

Men can also be like that

I suppose can is the key word 

Men can

But women are.

Most, not all, of them...

And so, what are they?

I will try,

With less skill than is desirable 

To describe 

Something so important 

And yet, so elusive 

It is

In one word

Purpose 

Purpose 

Women 

Always have a purpose 

And the purpose 

Is to live life

To make the living of life

As easy and as simple 

And as quick 

As possible 

You might say

Isn't that what men also do?

Let me try and 

Have another go at it

It is

The feeling when

Mother is in the house

Versus 

When father is in the house 

When mother is in the house 

You know

She is thinking 

Of how to get food 

Cook food

How to make sure

Everyone is fed

And can make

Their schedules

How and when to clean

What to buy

What to replace 

What to destroy

In short how best to 

Live the life you have 

How best to 

Distribute resources 

Meaning time, attention,

Money, emotion

To meet everyone's needs

All their actions 

Have a purpose 

When father is in the house

It is the exact opposite 

They bumble around 

Breaking things

And the entire purpose 

Of their life

Is to accumulate 

All resources 

How best to gain

Their own comfort, fun

Pursue their interest 

The rest of the people 

Be damned to hell

Selfish 

To the bone

You might think

This is the description 

Of individuals 

Think deeper 

And know this

To be the story

Of almost 

Every household 

With the exceptions

Only proving the norm

She smiles in sleep

And i know

She knows

She is loved

And that seems to be

The biggest achievement 

Today 

Creation

After giving birth 

The one thing you realize 

Is that nothing 

Is under your control 

Nothing 

Not

A

Single 

Thing

You cannot control 

Or even predict 

When or if you will conceive 

What it is a boy or a girl

What signs you will have

How exactly you will find out

What kind of pregnancy 

You will have

Whether you will be

Hungry or perpetually full

Vomit or just nauseate

Whether you will like

Sweet or sour

Lose weight or gain weight 

And how much you will gain

If you do gain

Whether you will have 

Diabetes 

High pressure 

Or even 

Hyperemesis gravidarum 

Whether your feet will swell

And change size forever 

Or get back to what they were

Whether you will be able to walk

Or lie in bed all through 

Whether you will have 

Crystal clear thoughts

Or befuddling brain fog

Whether your belly sits high or low

Shows or doesn't show

Whether the weight your gain

Goes to you or goes to the baby

What size will the baby be

Whose eyes? Whose height?

Whose face? Whose brains?

How exactly will you have labor

Or not

In what way will the baby come out

Will it long, or short

Painful, or ecstatic 

Will you gain weight after, or lose

Will you get back to your shape

Or change

Will you be depressed 

Or buoyant 

Will you be instantly 

Attached to your baby 

Or will it take time

Or will you be 

Forever repulsed by it

Will you prefer being

Around the baby

Or will you prefer 

Being away from it

You can control nothing 

You can predict nothing 

Not a thing

So the only one thing 

About creation 

That you can tell 

For certain is that

It's painful 

It's very very painful 

And difficult as hell

And there go men

Inventing rules

To control everything 

As if things 

Nature

This world

Is controllable 

And pretending they know 

What creation is

By inventing gods

Who create

Perfectly beautiful universes

We believed them

We foolish women

Who were brought up 

To think

The world of men

The outside world

Is superior to

The world of women 

The inside world 

And so, we learned 

Control, rules, prediction

And all that nonsense 

And so

When we were faced with 

Something so vast

And powerful 

And completely outside 

Of our control 

Or even prediction 

As creation 

We were 

To put it mildly 

Deeply flummoxed 

And to put it more intensely 

Went completely crazy

Lost our marbles 

Life fell apart

And lay around 

All over the place 

Because we were 

Unable to deal with 

loss of

Control 

And after going through this

Only after going through this

And noe after

Reading or listening or learning 

Comes wisdom 

That you cannot control nature

You can only accept 

And decide 

What you do next

The double lives of women

If I say that 

I do not want to be happy

Like your mother

Happy after lavishing 

All her love, attention 

Vigor, memory 

Life, charms

On her husband and children

But mostly on husband 

Happy because he praises her

So that he can go on

Living the life of kings

Never lifting a finger at home

If I say I do not want to be 

Happy like that 

That would be true 

And if I say that

I do not want to be sad

Like your mother

Sad because 

At the end of the day

Despite all she does

She has not a single friend

Because she has been taught that

Women who gossip are bad women

So ahe proudly states that

She doesn't have any friends 

She doesn't have a single person 

Who will listen to her day

So she is desperate 

For someone, anyone

Who will listen to the

Deceivingly simple and banal

But actually the most vital

Account of her day

And thus has been waiting 

Since forever 

For her real life to begin 

Where she has one friend 

Just one friendly soul

To perform 

The most ordinary act 

Of conversation 

That elixir 

Which keeps humans alive

For this simple act she pines

And prays upon

The hapless young woman 

Expected to wait on her

But is rebuffed because 

Emotional labor 

Is a most unpleasant task 

When you do not love

The concerned person 

And so she waits and waits 

And by the time she dies

Has barely ever felt that

She has lived her real life

If I were to say

That i do not want 

To be sad like her 

That would also be true 

Images

 In the dusk of dawn

I have a new favorite color

And it's not a color

It's the collage 

of fresh, new, dark green, shining moss

upon layers and layers of old, 

faded, blurred, disintegrated, 

yellowed, grayed, moss

On a large, dark grey stone statue

Of a sleeping Buddha

Woes unlimited

When they said

That after marriage and children 

You stop thinking 

About anything else

I somehow

Assumed

Foolishly 

That they meant

It was because you would be

Happy in it

Turns out it's the exact opposite 

There is just ap much to do

So much to, so much to worry about 

So much to argue, so much to compromise 

That you have no time 

For anything else

Either or

It's been a while

That I often think 

Of how 

Will and Lyra's story ended

They knew 

That while one lives

The other cannot survive 

That they would wither

In each other's lands

And what I thought

Was fantasy

Comes back to haunt me

Again and again

Because it is true

Every day, every where

For every people 

That none can survive 

In alien lands

Alien hands

And each would wither

In the other's sanctuary 

And so Will and Lyra 

Parted ways

Just so that

They could each 

Live full lives

And this

Was greater to them

Than being together 

If only 

I had had

That courage 

Cork

The image 

That comes to mind

Is a piece of wood

Flung into water

It is sinking

As most things will

In water

But then,

It is wood

Not stone

It's nature 

Is not to sink

It is to float

And so it will

It is just

A matter of time

So is life

And I wait

Wait wait

Deep in the depths of sinking

For the bounce to come back

For the moment of floating

When I break the surface 

And take deep lungfuls of air

And breathe 

And float along lazily 

I wait 

But the wait 

Too heavy to shake off

And I sink

Struggle to float

And sink again 

Geeta

You must do what you must do

Without caring about the results 

You must remove yourself 

Completely 

From the results

From feeling anything 

Not because 

You don't care

But because 

If you only care

You cannot do

What you need to do

Live

To the question of

Where do you live

If you are

Not to be yourself 

Anywhere, with anyone 

The answer is

Alone

You live alone

And nowhere else

The key

Then 

Is to kill yourself 

Ignore feelings 

Entirely 

To not look for

Ways to soak and spread 

And flower and bloom

In the harsh glare 

That is society 

And instead 

To spread yourself thin

Dip your toe

Test the waters

And withdraw 

Constantly 

Only spread your roots

Nay, not roots

But let down a tentacle

Only when it is right

Smile, agree, nod, laugh

For as long as needed

Feeling not a bit of it

Feeling 

Is not necessary here

Only acting is

Only doing what you need to do

And conserve

Your strength 

Live inside your head

Bide your time 

Until

You can let down your guard

Sigh

Close your eyes

And bloom

Let jungles rise from you

Destiny

Everything 

That happened before

Happened 

So that I could accept you

And appreciate 

How precious you are

Harsh light

Picture 

A seed buried deep

In the depths of the soil 

Dark, loamy and rich

It burrows its way up

Slowly, gradually

Unfurls some leaves

Into the dark night

Silent and pulsating 

With mysteries, 

And the promise of life

Stars in the distant sky

And lavender fireflies aglow

A flower blooms

To the tune

Of this black night 

That's you

Taking your own time

To see the world

Learn its ways

Shutting down when you need to

Opening up when you want to 

Swaying gently to the breeze

**

And then imagine 

The flower 

Suddenly thrust into

Piercing white light

Harsh and glaring

Light so strong it's blinding 

And hot, the rays scalding

Imagine the flower

Standing in this white light

All day and all night

Without the rest, respite

And rejuvenation of the night

That's marriage 

Relentless, unceasing 

Scrutinies, demands

For answers, for justifications

Where there are none

**

No doubt you hate it

And yet, 

If you don't learn

To make friends 

With the harsh, blinding

Scorching white light

You will surely wither and die

**

And yet

If you do learn

To make friends with it

You feel

Like a traitor

How can you make friends with 

Something thay blinds you

Sucks the life out of you