LB Chhetri
Living wrapped up in my own soil
Is ever an unfulfilled property of memory.
All imaginations!
Perhaps I am lost
in a world
Opposite to surrealism;
No bridging
between reality and imagination
In a country where
The abstract rules
Absurdity being the regime
Life is always in chagrin;
Where can I search meaning of my existence?
In the Arabian land, the sand is very hot
I am with the lambs
They don’t understand my language;
To those who understand it
I am a mere salve
And they, my masters.
They provide me with coins;
In political language
It’s called ‘remittance’
In memory
Are the distant Himalayas
Including the highest peak
SAGARMATHA,
The pride of the world!
I miss
My distant land!
Its distant beauty!!
And my distant love!!!
[Chhetri is the author of two Nepali poetry collections, Bheedma Harayeko Manchhe and Ko Ho Tyo Manchhe, and a collection of poems and stories in English, titled The Corridor of Senses. Also a storywriter, he has published three collections of stories: Trishankuko Deshma, Indramayako Deshma and Bratabhanga. He is the Chairman of Kavidanda Sahitya Samaj, a literary organisation based in Chitwan, Nepal.)
