Kewal Chandra Lama is not just a poet — he’s an artist who
uses words like brushstrokes to paint pictures in the minds of his readers. His
journey with poetry started back in the early 1980s, and since then, he hasn’t
stopped walking on the path of literature. With a deep love for imagery and
creativity, Lama has written poems that touch the heart, stir the senses, and
reflect the changing face of Nepali society.
In a world that keeps shifting, his words offer a sense of
grounding — but not in a rigid way. Instead, they flow, explore, and evolve,
just like the man behind them.
Kewal Chandra Lama began writing poetry during the early
years of the 1980s. That time was full of cultural shifts, political change,
and a growing sense of individual expression in Nepal. He picked up his pen and
joined this wave, but with his own unique voice.
His first published poetry collection was titled "Khand-Akhand",
As he listened to the poetic sounds of the transitional
period from the late 1970s to the 1990s, Lama absorbed their rhythms. These
decades were like a bridge — connecting older poetic forms with new,
experimental ones. Lama stood right there, in the middle, adding his own voice
to the chorus.
Other Notable Works
After his debut book, Lama went on to publish more
collections:
- "Kewalya"
(1993)
- "Ankhe
Jhari" (2013)
- "Ghar"
(2013)
- "Khilbutta"
(2022)
Each of these works showcases a different flavor of his
creativity. Whether it’s the emotional depth in “Ankhe Jhari” or the poetic
play in “Kewalya,” Lama always finds a way to speak directly to the reader's
soul.
But poetry isn’t the only place he shines.
Beyond Poetry – A Multi-Talented Artist
Lama isn’t just a poet. He’s also deeply involved in painting,
songwriting, theater, and cultural work. All these
experiences feed into his poetry. His poems often read like scenes from a movie
or brushstrokes on a canvas. They’re visual, emotional, and layered.
In fact, his love for painting played a huge role in shaping
his poetic style. The way he describes scenes or emotions feels like he’s
painting with words. Some people even called him an "imagist"
— someone who uses vivid images in their poems. But Lama himself doesn’t fully
agree with this label. He believes imagery is just one tool — a way to make his
message more alive, not the message itself.
What He Says About Imagery in Poetry
Lama once explained that imagery (or 'bimb' in Nepali)
is not the goal of his poems, but a tool. It helps him take abstract ideas and
turn them into something real — something readers can see, hear, touch, or even
smell in their minds.
In his words:
"Imagery is like a shortcut to the heart of the reader.
It makes the situation feel alive."
He admits that, at first, he didn’t really focus on using
imagery on purpose. But since he loved painting, his words naturally began to
take on a painterly feel. Over time, his poems became richer and more visual,
as if each line was a picture.
Some critics saw this and started calling him an
"imagist poet." But Lama gently disagrees. While he respects imagist
writers, he says he never tried to copy anyone. His voice developed naturally —
from life, from art, and from within.
Poetry During Times of Change
One thing that makes Kewal Chandra Lama stand out is how he
writes during times of change. In the late 1970s and 1980s, Nepali literature
was going through a shift. There were two big camps of writers:
- Those
who were very serious and intellectual (known for their deep,
layered writing).
- And
those who were highly emotional (focusing on feelings and personal
experiences).
Lama says that during the 1980s, many writers, including
himself, began to take a middle path — one that mixed both heart and
mind. This was a fresh and balanced approach, and it helped Nepali poetry grow.
In the 1990s, Lama and his peers became more active. Around
the same time, India adopted free-market policies, and globalization
started influencing the region. Lama saw this and decided that even though
global culture had its benefits, local traditions and identities needed to be
protected too.
This is why his poems often reflect both modern and
traditional values, showing a blend of the world and the village, the
global and the local.
His View on Society and Inclusion
Kewal Chandra Lama's poetry isn’t just about art — it’s also
about understanding people. He doesn’t just write about men and women.
He also includes those who are often ignored by society — people who are
differently-abled, silent, or marginalized.
He talks about:
- Gender
identity
- Caste
and ethnic issues
- Regional
pride
- Voices
that don’t get heard (like the mute, the disabled, the sidelined)
His poems show empathy — a deep care for human beings
in all their forms. He doesn’t just write from his own view. He tries to see
through others’ eyes and give voice to the voiceless.
His Relationship with Visual Language
There’s something unique about how Lama thinks about poetry.
He often talks about “the language of painting.” Just like you can look
at a painting from different angles and still enjoy it, he believes a poem
should feel rich no matter how you read it.
He doesn’t mean poems should be confusing. What he means is
that poetry can be multidimensional — like a painting with layers,
colors, and meanings. His goal isn’t just to tell a story, but to create an experience.
Is There Still Romanticism in Nepali Poetry?
When asked about the romantic flavor in modern Nepali
poetry, Lama gives a simple answer:
“Yes, it’s still there. Romanticism is part of who we are.”
For Lama, romanticism isn’t just about love. It’s
about emotion, nature, imagination, and beauty — all things that are
part of life and art.
Remembering His Fellow Poets
Lama doesn’t stand alone. He’s always respectful of the
other poets he’s worked with or been inspired by. He fondly remembers:
- Uday
Thulung and his soft poetic voice
- Sanjay
Bantawa and the heartfelt piece “Meri Ito”
- Santosh
Ale and his moving poems
- Praveen
Jumeli, known for his poetic use of language
- Jayant
Krishna Sharma, who wrote with national pride
- Remika
Thapa, with her own unique poetic style
This sense of literary community is important to
Lama. He sees poetry as something shared — something that grows when writers
support and learn from each other.
Conclusion: A Living Legend of Nepali Literature
Kewal Chandra Lama is more than just a poet. He’s a bridge
between generations, a storyteller of society, and a visual artist in words.
From his early days in the 1980s to his recent works, he has continued to grow,
experiment, and inspire.
What makes his poetry special isn’t just the beauty of the
words — it’s the thought behind them, the heart within them, and
the images they create in our minds.
He has never tried to be trendy or flashy. He simply follows
the path of creativity, truth, and expression — quietly, steadily, and
powerfully.
For anyone interested in Nepali literature, art, or poetry, Kewal
Chandra Lama’s work is a treasure. And his journey reminds us that poetry isn’t
just about rhyme or rhythm — it’s about life itself.
Who is Kebalchandra Lama?
Kebalchandra Lama, often called simply “Kebal,” is a poet, a
painter, and a voice for the voiceless. He’s from Darjeeling, a place rich with
culture, beauty, and a long history of the Gorkhaland movement—a political
struggle for the rights and identity of Nepali-speaking Indians. His poetry
reflects all this.
People call him “the poet of the midnight Gorkhaland”—a
poetic way of saying he was born in the heart of a revolution, in silence, yet
with a fire burning deep within. Kebal doesn’t just write about life; he questions
it, challenges it, and even laughs at it.
His Poetry: Real, Raw, and Radiant
Kebal's poetry is not soft or decorative. It hits hard. It
walks through dark alleys, talks about social issues, and pulls out the truth
from under the carpet. His words are alive. When he recites his poems, even the
most distracted listener stops and listens. His voice doesn’t just speak; it
cuts through silence like lightning.
One memorable event was in 2015, when Kebal did a solo
poetry reading. Important literary figures like Gyanendra Khatriwada,
Bichandra, and Manoj Bogati were present. The audience was full of energy,
hanging on to every word. And yes, there was even an art exhibition of Kebal's
paintings alongside the poetry reading. It was a full experience—art, poetry,
and emotion all in one.
People were amazed. “Hat!” they said—an expression of
surprise and respect in Nepali. That’s the magic of Kebal.
The Fighter Poet
Kebal is known for being outspoken. He once joked, “From
today, I’ll call you ‘ta’ (the informal, even disrespectful version of ‘you’)!”
And no one dared to argue. This moment shows his boldness. He’s not rude—he’s
honest. Even if it means calling a king “ta,” he’ll do it if the poem demands
it.
His connection with people goes beyond poetry. He speaks
like a friend, argues like a philosopher, and loves like a family member. Even
his friends sometimes say, “This guy is a strange mix—part Marxist, part
dreamer, part rebel.” But that’s what makes him real.
He doesn’t fit into one political ideology. “Even being
non-political is a kind of politics,” he says. “I don’t write to support any
‘ism,’ but I do fall into many.” Kebal believes literature must have social
usefulness. “If it doesn’t help anyone, what’s the point?” he often asks.
Gorkhaland: A Silent Storm in His Words
Darjeeling has seen political struggles for decades,
especially the Gorkhaland movement. Many poets, like Birendra Subba, Guman
Singh Chamling, and Norzang Syangden, have told its stories. Kebal followed
this tradition, but with his own style—mixing poetry, painting, grammar, and
song lyrics.
The first Gorkhaland movement gave people frustration, pain,
and broken dreams. Kebal turned that pain into poetry. He used his words to
paint the feelings of a generation—sadness, anger, hope, and everything in
between. That’s why he’s not just another poet. He’s a storyteller of a wounded
land.
The Painter of Feelings
Kebal’s talent doesn’t stop at poetry. He’s also a painter.
His house smells of linseed oil and fresh paint, especially in the room where
his daughter Krishala was born. His paintings often express the same themes as
his poems: struggle, identity, dreams, and love.
One of his hobbies is listening to music while painting.
Sometimes he dances too. His family says that when he’s not writing or reading,
he’s either drawing or dancing. That’s just who Kebal is—someone who feels
deeply and expresses freely.
He doesn’t drink alcohol, but he enjoys chewing paan and
smoking cigarettes once in a while. He wears jeans and casual clothes, showing
that he doesn’t care much about formality. His poetry readings are also
unique—he doesn’t just stand and read. He moves, shakes his head, and adds
emotion to every line.
Books and Major Works
Kebalchandra Lama has written several books over the years.
Some of his well-known works include:
- Khanda-Akhand
(1991) – His early poetry collection
- Kebalay
(1993) – A deep, philosophical set of poems
- Aankhejhari
(2011) – Poems full of emotion and life
- Ghar
(2013) – A collection that feels like coming home
He also once planned to publish a book called Jhulkhe
Ghaam (Morning Sunlight), inspired by his daughter Krishala’s birth. He
said, “After my daughter was born, I started writing in her mood, in her
rhythm.” Though that book hasn’t come out yet, the idea shows how much family
influences his writing.
His poems like “Buda Ba Timri Rail Sikist Chhe Hai,”
“Sishnuko Jhyang,” “Bhaktapurko Anam Kalakar,” and “Lagyopardesh Sankanchako
Bau” are loved by readers and reciters alike. These poems are full of local
language, humor, and deep emotion.
Personal Life and Inspirations
Kebal was born into a creative family. His father, Babukumar
Chandra Lama, was a famous theatre artist in Darjeeling. Growing up in a
household filled with art and theatre gave him a unique view of the world.
As a child, Kebal read a book called Sanathula Taaraharu
(Small and Big Stars), and that’s when the light of literature switched on
inside him. He never turned it off.
He was heavily influenced by world literature too. Writers
like Indra Bahadur Rai, Raj Narayan, Madhav Prasad, and even international
names like Paveese, Larkin, and Muktibodh have inspired his thoughts. In
painting, he looked up to Van Gogh, Salvador Dali, Hemu Rai, and Bhotu Pradhan.
Despite some health issues—like collapsing a few times due
to diabetes—he remains active in art and poetry. His family takes care of him
like a child, especially his sister-in-law, who makes sure he eats and takes
medicine on time.
A Poet of the People
What makes Kebalchandra Lama stand out is how close he stays
to everyday people. His poems talk about things we all feel—loneliness, anger,
injustice, love, and dreams. He’s not writing for the elite or academics. He’s
writing for you—for us.
Even on Facebook, he surprises people with sudden, emotional
posts. Once, he wrote about Helen Keller, comparing her to a wheelchair flying
into the sky. It was his way of saying that even when you’re limited, your
dreams are not.
He doesn’t just create art; he lives it. From hosting
poetry events to organizing art shows, from supporting young writers to
inspiring old ones, Kebal has been a strong, steady presence in the Nepali
literary world.
Final Words: A Star That Still Shines
Today, his daughter Krishala is in college. Kebal, now older
and a little slower, still talks about walking with her to class one day.
Before leaving the house, he always looks into the mirror, fixes his hair, and
adjusts his signature curly fringe. He walks with pride—not because he’s
famous, but because he has lived a life full of meaning.
Kebalchandra Lama isn’t just a poet. He’s a movement, a
memory, and a mirror of our society. He may never be on billboards or in fancy
magazines, but in the hearts of readers and lovers of Nepali poetry, he will
always shine—like the morning sun on his daughter’s warm blanket, like a quiet
revolution in the night.
भारतीय हुनलाई मेरो अनुहार कस्तो हुनुपर्छ ? आँखैमा राख्दा पनि नबिझाउँने के हो ? आमा कि देश ? आमा, बाबा र भारतीय पानी मुछिएर बनिएको भारतीयको अनुहार कस्तो छ ? म तुरुवनन्तपुरमबाट उकालो चढेको कालो पसिना तर म मद्रासी होइन । भारतीय भन्नलाई मेरो अनुहार कस्तो हुनुपर्छ ? म सर्वविद्याको राजधानी काशी पढ्दै गरेको अरुणाचली छात्र, म चिनिया होइन भारतीय भन्नलाई मेरो अनुहार कस्तो हुनुपर्छ ? म काले अग्ले घुँघुरिएको केश, यस्तो हुन्न र भारतीय अनुहार ? म पुडके गहुँगोरो पहाडबाट झरेको अनि टिस्टा-ब्रह्मपुत्रमा बगेको म दुर्गा मल्ल । मेरो सालिक छ संसद भवनमा । मलाई विदेशी भन्छौ भने कस्तो हुनुपर्छ भारतीय अनुहार ? म राधाकृष्णन्, म पटेल र म सुभाषचन्द्र । म वीरबहादुर, म सोमरा म परमिन्दर । म मन्दिर, स्वर्ण मन्दिर, म गिर्जाघर, मस्जिद र गुम्बा । कस्तो हुन्छ यी सबैको घुलमिल अनुहार ? मलला जस्तै म शबनम म बुर्काको काखमा राख्छु यो देश मेरो अनुहार कस्तो हुनुपर्छ ? म भीमराव अम्बेडकरको मित्र अडिबहादुर गुरुङ १९४९ को भारतीय संविधानको मस्यौदामा सहीछाप गरेको छु भारतीय भन्न मेरो अनुहार कस्तो हुनुपर्छ ? नेहरूको पालामा महासचिव भएर भारतीय राष्ट्रिय काङ्ग्रेस सम्हालेको म थियोडोर मनेन, म गोर्खा हुँ इज्रायली यहुदी होइन, भारतीय भन्नु मेरो अनुहार कस्तो हुनुपर्छ ? फुटबलको चन्दनसिंह, हकीको ध्यानचन्द, गीतकी मङ्गेशकर र नेता नमुद्रीहरू शिखरदेखि सागरसम्म छन् । छेत्रीले गोल हाल्दा, तेन्दुलकरले सेन्चुरी हान्दा, हजारिकाले गाउँदा र तेनजिङले चुचुरो टेक्दा रमाउने अनुहार एउटै छ त ? नेप्टे, चेप्टे, चुच्चे, फेडे, काले, गोरे, राते, फुस्रे सब एउटै । अब तिमी नै भन न – भारतीयको अनुहार कस्तो हुनुपर्छ ? |
भाउजूदुईछाक खोज्छिन् चियाबोटमा भाउजू घर खोज्छिन् एकसरो फेरफारे गुन्यु र केटकेटीका खाताकिताब। भाउजूले पाएकी छन आधापेट निस्तो गाँस फाटेको लुगा लाउने घर अक्षर मेटिएको किताब र खालीखुट्टे बारी। फेसबुक र पासपोर्टसंग कुनै वास्ता नहुने भाउजूको फेण्टसी सीमित छ मज्जाको टीभी सिरियल र कहिलेकांही घरमास्तिर उड्ने हेलिकप्टरसम्म। तर भीख माग्दिनन् भाउजूहरू। मार्छन् नि हौ पसिना कमाएर खाने दाजुहरूले। |
बिहानकालो छालाको ज्याकेट र कालो चस्मा लाएको काले बिहानले ऐठनको डरलाग्दो गुन्डाबाट जोगाउँछ हुन त । तर दिनभरिको ज्यालास्वरूप माग्छ एक दिनको मजदुरी अनि दिनपछि कालो पर्दा थुनिएको ओछ्यानमा उज्यालाको अस्थिपञ्जरले मुसारेर माग्छ एक चोला समर्पण । एउटा किच्चक व्यापारी हुन्छ त्योचमचम हिमाल । साहू हुन्छन् हरिया चोरबाटाहरू । ऋण हुन्छ त्यो सुरमय नीलो। डाका हुन्छ सूर्योसदय, तर घाम जन्मँदैन । एकै जना पनि हुँदैन मलाई बचाउने उज्यालोको काले छोरोबाट । मलाई सुत्न दिनोस् गुटुमुटु, बिन्ती सिरानीमै राखी पुरानो अँध्यारोको यो नयाँ फुटबल । |
लु लेख् मेरो अनुहारबन्दुकले भन्यो - 'लु लेख् मेरो अनुहार'। मेरो मुखमा लागेको रगत त्यो मर्नेकी स्वास्नीकाे नि:शब्द आँखाले पोलेको छु। त्यस विधवाकाे धारिलो चकमन्नले मेरो आगो सल्काएकाे छु। त्यो मर्नेकी बूढी आमाका लखतरान सुस्केराले मेरो छातीकाे ओढार भरेको छु। त्यो मर्नेकी सानी छोरीको पाठ्यपुस्तकबाट अलिखित अक्षर खोसेको छु। त्यो मर्नेको छोरोकाे हिँड्दै गरेको बाटोलाई च्वाट्टै छिनाएकाे छु। त्यो मर्नेका बूढा बा´का चेस्मामा अौँसीकाे चुक घोप्टाएर आएको छु। `लु लेख् मेरो अनुहार´ - मेरो बन्दुकले भन्यो मुखै फोरेर। |
उनको कवितामेरो कविता लेख्नु न! – उनले भनिन् । ‘केको कविता ?’ – मैले सोधेँ – – पातको ? – हाँगा-बिँगाको? – काण्डको? – जराको ? उनले सहमति जनाइन् । मैले लेखेँ – – पहेँलो – कालिदासले काट्नु आँटेको – सुक्खा , सुकेको , मरन्च्याँसे – जिङरिङ्ग घरदेखि बाहिर निस्केको ठूलो निश्वास लिएर भनिन् – प्रतिबिम्ब देखिने त्यो पोखरी सुकेको धेरै भएछ नि …! |
बाघ र समयकतैबाट फुत्त निस्कन्छ बाघ । कतैबाट पनि । कहीँबाट पनि । फुत्त निस्कन्छ बाघ कुनै दन्त्येकथाबाट कुनै जनश्रुतिबाट कुनै उखान नभए बाग्धाराबाट र डाँडाको टुप्पोबाट हेर्छ तलको मैलो नगरलाई , तलको बाक्के बसेको गाउँलाई, माथिको धमिलो जूनलाई । त्यसपछि गर्जन्छ बाघ मलिन स्वरले मध्यम स्वरले र उच्च स्वरले तारसप्तक बन्दछ । सपनामा देखिइने नगर कवितामा भनिइने गाउँ भयले लगलगी काँप्दछन् । निभिसकेको बत्तीको अँध्यारोमा गुम्लुङ्ग भय ओढेर निदाएको नाटक खेल्छ घर । पाठ्यपुस्तकमा लेखिएको छ रगतले तिर्खा मेट्छ बाघ । बाघको वृत्तचित्रमा बाघले काँचो मासु खाएको दश मिनेटको दृश्य छ । बाघका तिखा नङ्ग्रा र धारिला दाह्राको वर्णन छ थुप्रै दन्त्यकथा र आख्यानहरूमा । आकाशलाई मनपर्दैन कि बाघको वीरताको बखान ? गड्याङगुडुङ गर्छ । चट्याङको ब्रह्मास्त्र हान्छ बाघलाई ताकेर । त्यसपछि पानी पर्छ । मुसलधारे पानीमा बाघको नङ्ग्रामा अल्झेको मासुको चोक्टा मुखमा लागेको आलो रगत सबै बग्छन् । तृप्त भएर बाघ काल्पनिक जङ्गल पस्छ । ` बाघको प्रस्थानपछि ढुक्क भएको घर निदाउनु लागेको गाउँ फेरि बत्ती बाल्नु आँटेको नगर सबै सबै बगेर जान्छन् कतै पनि, कहीँ पनि ´ काव्यमा यस्तै वर्णन छ । |
घरघरमा मान्छे मात्र बस्दैन घरमा सपना पनि बस्छ । एक कुनामा डल्लो परेर बसिरहन्छ उमेर निकै ढल्केपछि एक बिहान अल्पन्छ । घरको अघिल्लो खिर्कीबाट एउटा सपनाको ज्यान जान्छ । घरको पछिल्लो दैलोबाट अर्को सपनाको प्राण निस्कन्छ । कुनै न कुनै सपना सिँगारपटार गरेर घरमा बसिरहन्छ सधैँ। * घरमा मान्छे मात्र बस्दैन एल्बमको हरेक कोठामा अतीतहरू खचाखच बस्छन्। सम्झनाले कहिले घरमा रङ्गपचेरा गर्छ । सम्झनाले कहिले दसैँलाई रुवाउँछ । घरको पाठ्यपुस्तकमा वर्तमानकाल मात्र हुँदैन, भविष्यत्काल पनि हुन्छ । आँगनको नाङ्गो रूखले भविष्य समातेर उभिइरहन्छ— एक्लै र कठ्याङ्ग्रिई बस्छ एक्लोपनले । घाम अस्ताएपछि बूढो घर आफ्नी बूढी स्वास्नीका आँखाभित्र पस्छ र पुग्छ कालो ओढारमा, भेट्टाउँछ एक रास कङ्काल— सूर्योआदयको । भोलिको उज्यालोको कुन्नि कस्तो आसमा बूढो घर निदाउने सश्रम आतुरीमा हुन्छ ऐठनका सल्याङमल्याङ कोब्राहरूमाझ । * घरमा आकाश पस्छ बर्खाले मातृभाषा भुल्दा । घरमा पृथ्वी पस्छ बालीले आशा मार्दा । घरमा छोराको तन्नेरी सम्झना सुत्छ राति–राति जब घर फर्कने बाटो सहिद हुन्छ पल्टनमा । * सुट्ठीसारै भएपछि घर विश्वभ्रमणमा निस्कन्छ घरमै छोडेर बूढा बा–आमा । घरमा बाको सुस्केरा र थकान बस्छ घरमा आमाको आँसु र बिमार बस्छ । * हाम्रो घरमा मान्छे मात्र बस्दैन हाम्रो घरमा वैभवको फोटोकपी बस्छ । हाम्रो घरमा हर्कबडाइँको निम्नस्तरीय उल्था बस्छ । हाम्रो घरमा सन्त्रासको व्याकरण बस्छ । हाम्रो घरमा असुरक्षाको भर्खर छापिएको किताब र त्यसको पुरानो संस्करण मिलेर बस्छ । हाम्रो घरमा मान्छे मात्र बस्दैन हाम्रो घरमा उपर्युल्लिखित सबै शाखा–सन्तानको गुँड नै बस्छ… । |
घर १ -३घर-१ चरी बरीका ओठबाटै गीत खोसेर परपरी भुट्यो उसले। हावाको हातैबाट शीत खोसेर आगोमा झोस्यो उसले। ठूल्ठूला पाँसुला देखाएर आँगनभरि घुम्यो डँडाक उ। आकाशभरि हातखुट्टा फैलाएर लमतन्न प-यो नाथे तानाशाह घाम। ड्याम्म दैलाखिर्की थुनेर उ ओछ्यानमा पल्टी। कहिले फर्कने हो अब घर मोरो पल्टने? घर-२ मुटु राख्नलाई घर चाहिन्छ भन्छन्। उसो भए बेघरबार भयो मेरो मुटु। कसरी हुर्काउनु होला भविष्यत् काल घर नभएको मान्छेले। छुट्टिने बेलामा गाँउघर जम्मै बोकेर निस्के पनि जम्काभेट हुँदा मुटु ढुकढुक हुने त्यो राम्री केटी यो टाढामा हुँदैन रहेछ। कस्तो सास्ती यो घरबाट धेरै टाढा हुनु आफू आफ्नै घरमा। घर-३ सानोमा मेरो सानो झ्यालमा सानो आकाश टाँगिन्थ्यो। म दौडेर आँगनमा निसकन्थें। मेरो सानो झोलामा मेरो भागको सानो आकाश भर्न चाहन्थें। घरका सबै झोलामा पनि नअँट्ने हुन्थ्यो आकाश। आज पनि खोज्यो कि हराउँछ यो आकाश। पाउने बेलामा चोरिन्छ त्यो आकाश। वास्तवमा त्यो आकाशभन्दा अलिकति ठूलो छ मेरो घर। |
घर-४अविवाहित घरको चकमन्नले आमाको आँखामा टाँगिदिन्छ बेकारी छोरोको सपनाको आकाश। सपनाको आकाशमा बुहारीलाई जूनको टीको लाइदिन्छिन् आमा। सपनाको आकाशमा नातिनीको जामामा तारामण्डल टाँसिदिन्छिन् आमा। सपनाको आकाशलाई नयाँ नयाँ प्याटर्न हालेर ऊनीको सुइटर बुनिदिन्छिन् आमा र लामोसुस्केराले सोध्छिन् आफैलाई कहिले जाने होला सपनाबाट यो हिउँद। |
घर ५ -९घर-५ औ जाऊँ एउटा फूलबारी खोज्दै। एक्लै छोड़िदिऊँ यो घरलाई। हामीजस्तै होस् न यो। बोल्ने साथी नपाएर। सुन त, चिनी अलि बेसी हालेर हलूवा बनाऊ। त्यो फ्लास्कमा चिया हाल। हाम्रो दोकानमा बिस्कुट उधारो दिन्छ की? जाऊँ । छोड़िदिऊँ आज दिनभरि एक्लै। दशैंमा छोरीले ल्याइदिएकी साड़ी लगाऊ म त्यो नयॉं पेन्ट लाउनुपर्यो। एकछिन् घर नबढ़ार त, मेरो कुरा सुन त। भनेजस्तो कोट पो छैन। जुत्ता सिलायौ के? हेर कस्तो मज्जले घाम लागेको छ। मान्छे बॉंच्नु मात्र होइन आमा चैं हॉंस्नु पनि पर्छ। मान्छेलाई पूजापाठ मात्र होइन रमाइलो पनि चाहिन्छ। नाति-नातिनीको अवोध अनुहार भूल्न नसके पनि मत्थु ज्वाइँको अनाचार र छोरीको हाहाकार भुलिदेऊ। एकछिन श्रम भुलौं। अपमान भुलौं। दाह्रा ङिच्चाइ भुलौं। फर्कँदा साथीभाइकोतिर निस्कौं। मट्टितेल खोजौं। ग्यासको सिलिण्डर सोधौं। माथि बड़ीआमालाई इस्कूसको मुन्टा माग है फर्कँदा। लु लु छिटो गर। फर्कंनुलाई घर त छँदै छ। हामीले छोरा-छोरी नाति नातिनी आउने दिन पर्खेजस्तो पर्खोस न घरले हामीलाई। मेरो सुगरको दवाइ तिम्रो प्रेसरको पनि त किन्नु छ। घर-६ घरमा एकजना हिमाल बस्छ। हिमाल अग्लो हुन्छ र शिर झुकाउँछ ठूलाबड़ाको सामुन्ने। घरमा फर्साइलो हिमाल बस्छ। घरको हिमाल मलामी जान्छ जन्ती जान्छ र घर फर्कँदा वृद्दा गुरूआमाको सौदाको झोला बोकिदिन्छ। घरमा मिचिक्क हॉंस्ने झिल्के हिमाल बस्छ। हिमाल सेतो हुन्छ। हिमाल राति पनि सेतो हुन्छ। घर-७ कोपिलाजस्तै खुशी घरमा बस्छ। चिन्ताफिक्रीको डड़ॉंक बारूला घरमा बस्छ। ह्वेलजत्रो खुशीको ऐनामा घरको अनुहार हत्तपत्त अनुवाद हुँदैन चोरजस्तो सुटुक्क पस्छ घरमा चिनाजाना अफशोस। श्रंगार गरिरहेको बेला कुनै घाउ फर्केर पछिल्लतिरबाट बोलाई पो हाल्छ की भन्ने पासोमा जाकिरहन्छ घर। घरले सहनुसक्छ-खास कुरा त्यति हो र घर बॉंच्नुसक्छ स-साना खुशीहरूमा -बा को पेन्सनको कुरा छिन्यो आमा सञ्चै छिन् केटा-केटी बिग्रेका छैनन्,पढ़्दैछन्.... कोपिलाजस्तै खुशीको रंगमा क्या खुल्छ घर। घर-८ एकपछि अर्को आउँदैछन् घरमा अँध्याराहरू। बत्तिएर कुद्ने बसमा आँउदैछ चिसो हावा। अँध्यारोको ख्वामितले पठाएको छ घामलाई विदाबारीको सूचनापत्र। छताछुल्ल छ विरामी घामको रगतका फाल्साहरु घरमाथिको आकाशमा। एउटा आफ्नै घर बनाउनु नसकेकोमा दिनभरि आकाश ताक्ने घामबूढ़ा खिन्न छ। अवकाशग्रहण गरेर घर छोड़िजॉंदैछ बूढ़ा घाम। सेवानिवृत भएर घर फर्केको छ क्लान्त घरबूढ़ा। दिनभरि छिचोलेको टन्टलापूर सपनाको किताब अन्तिमखेपलाई दोहोर्याउँदैछ बूढ़ा घाम। उज्यालोको अन्तिम बिँड़ी सल्काएर धुम्धुम्ती बसेको छ बूढ़ा चामे। गौंथलीले तातो चिया दिएकी छैन। सायद घरमा छैन गौंथली। तयार भइरहेका होलान् रात्री-पाठशालामा आउनु अपरिचित तारागण। हेलित घाम डुब्नु खोज्दैछ। तर न कुनै सागर छ क्षतिजमा न आँगनमा कुनै कुवा। घर-घरमा भखर्रै बलेका छन् हष्टपुष्ट बत्तिहरू। गौंथलीले सहारा दिएर चामे बूढ़ालाई घरभित्र लगेकी छे र ग्यास-चुह्लामा पानी बसालेकी छे। घर -९ बाहिर लखेटेको छ घरले मलाई घरबाट। ओछ्यानको मनतातो वक्षको लोभमा छु वाहिर जाड़ोमा। घरको मनोपस चुक्कुल खोल्ने महोत्सवहरू छन् मसित। थकानले सेलिएको छ घरको देह। फतक्क गलेको छ घरको गुलाबी कुर्कुच्चा। मेरो छालाबाट उख्लिएको छ घर। प्रेमपत्रका पङ्क्तिहरूबाट पन्छाएको छ घरले मलाई। भयानक भाल्टेज बड़ेको उज्यालोलाई गोप्य कुनाकाप्चाको छिड़्किनी खोल्नु नदिनु मेरो घरबाट। |
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सिउँडी Siudi (Euphorbia Neriifolia) Uses, Benefits, Side Effects, and Medicinal Properties
काठेकार, फर्कफल, काठआँवली, Averrhoe acida :
Kaaulo, काउलो, कोह, नाकेम, नेपाली अर्जुन, Kaulo Arjuna, Machilus dutbiei
Kaalo Punarnawaa, कालो पुनर्नवा, Black Patagon
Seti Kareli, सेती करेली, तितेकरेली राम्री, तिताकरेल, Bitter Gourd
Thulo Pahelo Kapaas, ठूलो पहेँलो कपास बिरुवा, Cotton Yellow, Gossypiun birsutam
Kapas, कपास, सूत्रपुष्प, Cotton, Gossypiun herbaceum
Thulo Karkalo, ठूलो कर्कलो, मानकन्द, माने Gaint Taro, Alocaria species
Alocaria speciesThulo Karkaloठूलो कर्कलोमानकन्दमाने Gaint Taro
Katahar, कटहर, Artocarpus beterophyllus
Bans Bata Baneko Kaagaj, बाँसबाट बनेको कागज, Paper From Bamboo
Nepali Speaking Practice through Books in Hindi and English
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