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Shopping
by
Thomas L. Guta
I
went down to Tarlam's
to
buy a skull cup for my wife.
"Aro!
thought you were a corpse
Where
you been - the other side of Ogmin?
And
how's the khandro and the kids
So
have some tea and tell me all about it
Seen
my tiger eye Z stone
Nothing
can compare or smell these amber
Straight
from the old Queen's plait
If
you need a bone then check the femur
Blow
it and watch the fairies queue
And
my tridents just got through
Shipped
from Kali Ghat last spring
Just
the thing – so what about
The
patina on these beads – you guessed it
A
rhinoceros gall stone rosary
Authentic?
Do dakinies have three eyes?
I
have got the horn buried in the back
No
trades but we can talk alterations
You
need a skull cup? Sure thing
Got
one with brass fittings, silver lined
But
first touch the drum beads
Scraped
and stretched the skins last week
What
say? just the skull cup – unlined?
Sorry
– don't stock them any more
Can't
get the skulls you used to
They
come soft and leaky nowadays
Useless
– so what else is new?
Have
a look at my meteorite dagger
Make
me an offer – come back Saturday
OK
OK ask old Agah, he's got a spare..."
I
went up to Agah's
to
buy a skull cup for my wife.
Undefeated
by
Viplob Pratik
Alone,
I know you are examining my prospects
through
the peepholes of your little mind.
Oh
yes I know, being, myself a protagonist
who
looks through peepholes to see what I'll find.
It's
indulgent I know, and nastily so
to
use the breathing galaxy of humanity
like
some kind of travelling sideshow.
Yet,
I keep my pride and valor.
I'm
not the only one on this stage.
Inside
I weep at meaner moments
that
do not measure up to the ideal.
Perhaps
the meanness is what's real?
Yet,
we can all carry the dream
of
meeting a soul with a lion heart,
a
mind to put the world on fire,
and
keep alive the hope to play a part
to
encourage, love, and to inspire.
And
truly, if my tears were pearls,
I
would present them to you on a precious tray.
But
I am quite, quite alone
upon
this earth, beneath its glaring sun.
Quite,
quite alone!
Translated
by Greta Rana
Kathmandu
by
Bhanubhakta Acharya
Lively
young women with flowers in their hair
walk
here and there with their friends.
They
walk in dreams that are all their own
in
this garden-city the gods have built.
The
rich in this place are uncountable
each
person's mind is filled with joy.
Kathmandu
City is an ocean of happiness
it
is the golden city that the demons once built.
Some
places like Lhasa, London, or China,
some
dark alleys like those of Delhi.
Some
places that rival the mighty cities of India
are
in this city that light has filled.
Swords,
hatchets, knives, and khukuris,
decorated
by pistols and even rifles.
Brave
and strong men fill all its streets.
Could
another place like Kathmandu exist?
There
is no anger, deceit or falsity
there
is no limit to dharma and nobility.
The
Lord of Animals protects this city,
this
is the land of God Shiva, the land of immortality.
After
so many days I have seen the Balaju water-gardens again
and
I write that underneath earthly skies this is a Heaven.
All
around me are birds that sit or swing upon vines
maybe
their soft voices intend to steal my mind.
If
I can stay here and make many verses
what
better thing or pleasure could I ever wish.
If
there were a beautiful maiden to dance before me
Lord
Indra's paradise I would never miss.
Adapted
by Pallav Ranjan |
COLLECTIBLES