Poetry:
S.P. Koirala
Life, Youth and Libations
There, in every nook of the city
Tyres burn, connoting high demonstrations
Here, an unparalleled gale
Shakes every corner of the newlywed Ram Hari,
Who has just ushered his bride in
He brooded for a while –
The events turned dramatic
All of a sudden,
In the midst of the movement
The courtship was done, and everything settled
Yesterday, the knot was tied
And today, the bride brought home
Lately, a decree came from the leader,
That we ought to go to the demonstration
Tear gas, lashing, and boots
Are as imminent as ever
I don’t know,
Whether the police will notice me,
Whether to the movement, I shall assist
It's unsure
Whether I will cross the huge river of revolt;
What, if a bullet hits and I end in death?
At present
Which movement shall I fight for?
Movement for life
Or
Movement for youth?
To meet my sweetheart awaiting honeymoon
I might make a comeback for sure,
To fulfill my mother's dream of a grandson,
I might manage this evening for sure,
In a marathon of optimistic thoughts
Ram Hari ran into the surging movement
At the pace of a deer,
With wedding mark still fresh on the forehead
News reached as evening approached—
"The movement was a triumph today!"
Late at night, the hospital wired,
"Ram Hari has come round!"
When, on the television screen,
Ram Hari asked the doctor
If he had in fact survived
The doctor answered,
"You did survive,
But, sorry,
The mark of your masculinity did not."
By his side was his newlywed bride
Standing at the interlocking tide
Of life and youth,
With libations in her hands…..!
Translation: Mahesh Paudyal
