सडकको तनाव र क्याफे प्राङ्गणको चिया गफ ( The Tension in the Street and the Banter at the Cafe Premises)

सडकको तनाव र क्याफे प्राङ्गणको चिया गफ

विलौनाहरु वेलुनझैँ अनेक रङ्गमा फुक्थे, फुट्थे
ती थुकका छिटा
अर्काका परेलामा झुण्डिएर
झरीको थोपा हुन्थे
आफ्नो प्रतिबिम्ब टल्किन,
यो सडकको तनावको किनारमा
यो चियाको चुस्कीबीच गजब थियो मेरी गो राउण्ड !
पारी छे आँखैमा सुम्सुम्याउँदै
अञ्जानअञ्जान, एउटा डिल पक्रेर एउटी परी,
अर्को छेवैमा हाँस्छ, फलाक्छ,
कराउँछ हाँस्छ
ल ! हो त ! अर्को पनि छ
झन् अर्की पनि छे
छ
छे
छन्
तिनीहरुआकाशभरी
जतिजति मधर्तीमा जरा फाट्छु, खिपिन्छु,
उफ्रिइउफ्रिइ, चर्किइ चर्किइ,
यो नाचबारे नसुनेका होलान्
तर तालमै कम्मर भाँचीभाँची,
मलाई समेत थाहा थिएन जुन संगीत रहेछ ।

सडकमा रगत वग्न लाग्यो,
खुट्टैछेउ आयो भेल, ढल यतै कतै पथ्र्यो क्यार !
सोचेँ – चाटिदिउँ !
अम्लै तानियो
लौ उत्तानो परेर लड्न क्या काइदा—
अव त नीलो आकाश आँखा सुम्सुम्याउँथ्यो
लंकेश्वरको अन्तिम चित्कार लेखिएको
सूर्य टल्केको श्वेत वादलु अक्षरहरुमा
अघिका प्यारी प्याराहरु रित्तिएका चिया कपहरुले
उगाउँदै थिए यो सित्तैको रेड लेबल, म लडिबडी गर्थें
तिनीहरुका नदीनाला, तापक्रमहरुमा,
मगजमा चाहिँ म कस्तो विकृत भएँछु धेरैवटा  
परिचय गरिनँ चोइटाहरुसँग
वरु यी सबै एउटै शरीर भैदिए पनि
आफ्नै आफ्नो परिवार जमघट गराइ दशैं मनाउँजस्तो भयो
सत्ते ! चोक्टाचोक्टा, फाल्सा फाल्सा पारेर निलेछन्
एउटैले खा’को भए पनि त हुन्थ्यो !

The Tension in the Street and the Banter at the Cafe Premises

Grievances, like balloons of various colors, blew up, bursted
Those spittle-blobs
Dangling on others' eyelashes
Became drops of rain
To mirror one's own image.
At the margin of this street tension,
Between sips of tea, it was an amazing merry-go-round !
Across sits, a she, stroking right on my eyes,
Quite quite unknown, an angel holding by a ridge;
Another one, a he, laughs on my side, blabbers
shouts, laughs
Oh! Yes indeed! There is him too !
And her as well !
(he) is
(she) is
(they) are
They-all-over-the-sky
As much as I-into-the-earth branch out into roots, get woven into,
Leaping-springing, hollering-yelling,
Mustn't no one have heard of this dance
Yet gyrating to the rhythm,
Which I too didn't know was music.

Blood began spilling on the street,
Flooding right to my legs- the drain must have been somewhere here!
I reckoned- I'll take a lick.
But as I dipped the whole finger got pulled away!
So nice it is to lay flat on the back-
Now the blue sky stroked my eyes
With words of Ravana's last screams written
In the sunshined letters of white clouds . . .

The beloved ones from a while before were scooping up with emptied tea cups
That red-label for free, as I squirmed about
In their rivers and rivulets, temperatures,
And in minds I happened to be so deteriorated, variegated
That I didn't introduce myself to splinters.
If only these were one body
I should have gathered for each one their own family and celebrated Dashain, so I felt.
Truly! They swallowed me as pieces, clots
Could just one of them have eaten me!