Suman Pokhrel's Blog: सुमन पोखरेल Suman Pokhrel

ПРЕЖДЕ ЧЕМ РЕШИТЬСЯ (Russian Translation of Suman Pokhrel's Poem 'Nirnaya Garnuaghi/Before Making Decision')

ПРЕЖДЕ ЧЕМ РЕШИТЬСЯ
- Сума́н Похрел

В скольких умах
Мне сойти с ума?
Кто бы мне ответил?

Прыгать мне каплей
Воды,
Вытекая из желоба
И ударяясь
О землю;
Или быть твердым,
Как камень
Под желобом тем?
Как не хлещет его вода -
Камень не шелохнется.

Чьи глаза мне искать,
чтобы найти последний
безжалостный ответ?
Или
Задавать мне каждому вопрос,
Какой не следует задавать?
А, может,
Обратиться к небу
И ответить на вопрос,
Какой не был задан?

В таких условиях,
Когда приходится
постоянно сходить с ума,
чтобы только выжить,
как выбрать благоприятный момент,
чтобы спятить?

Я не обращался к головам,
Схожим с фруктом лапси*
Без косточки внутри,
Не просил благоприятного момента,
чтобы судить, как листья дерева таанки.**

Капля росы, как обычно,
Всю ночь упивалась цветком,
Смакуя алкоголь,
Обнаженный солнечный луч,
Вынурнув из реки,
Опять отвешивал поклоны.

Такое возбуждение
Вскоре сошло на нет -
Так хлопковый флис под конец
Оборачивается тучей.

Ни у кого не спросив совета,
Я сам сделался безумен,
Сидя под тем же солнцем,
Под теми же облаками.

С самого начала я знал,
Что однажды
Все сойдут с ума,
И увидят, что я в здравом уме.

———
* лапсли или непальская слива
** Баугиния пурпурная

................................................

Перевод Германа Власова
................................................

ANTES DE TOMAR DECISIONES

ANTES DE TOMAR DECISIONES
por Suman Pokhrel


¿En cuántos sentidos debería volverme loco?
¿A quién debería preguntarle?

¿Debo seguir rebotando como gotas?
que saltan tras el agua
que fluye del grifo y golpea el suelo,
o permanecer paralizado
como piedra bajo el mismo grifo que a pesar de ser rebalsado
Por incesante flujo ni siquiera se mueve

¿Qué mirada debo buscar para hallar la respuesta irracional definitiva?
¿Debería hacerles a todos la pregunta que no debería haberse hecho, o debería
Mirar virando los ojos hacia el cielo
estar respondiendo la pregunta que no se ha hecho?

En esta ambiente donde tienes que volverte eternamente loco solo para sobrevivir,
¿Qué momento auspicioso debería elegir para volverme loco?

A nadie le pregunto como el corazón de las fruta no esconde semillas en su interior,
no preguntaré por un momento auspicioso
o un juicio como hojas de árbol taanki2.

como siempre pequeñas gotas de rocío
toda la noche estuve con flor deleitándome con el sabor a alcohol,
El sol desnudo de la mañana en visible adoración
después de bucear en el río
termino como un vellón de algodón que finalmente se convierte en nube.

Sin que nadie me aconseje me volví loco
sentado bajo el mismo sol y las mismas nubes.

Creí todo el tiempo que un día
todo el mundo se volvería loco sólo por verme cuerdo.

.....................................................................
la traducción Martiza Luza Castillo

Song of Soul by Suman Pokhrel

May I splinter away from myself
break into whole units
and
live in each with perfection!

This ME
made whole by
combining countless fragments
could not live in any one part
with complete ease.

May I show a true model
of deconstruction to Derrida
by taking off parts that make up my being!

So that I would see
one man fallen off me
shambling down the street,
and continue to speak in assemblies
with full ignorance of the subject,
continue to review the news of the world
by stuffing them in his brain
and go yapping in the crowds
fully content in the perfection of
his inferior sphere.

The other one
brooding over the ledger books
and the personal files
of the employees.

May the next one always keep reading,
the other looking after children
and still another swimming
in love all his life.

May the other fragment – the ‘me’ whom I don’t like
remain shut somewhere in the room.

May one other splinter engage
in inner decoration of the house
and meet the hunger of needs.
If he cannot do so
may he fragment himself further
into contractors
supplying vegetables, miscellanies,
clothes, and fuels
and sorting out other mess.

May one other part
forgetting that he is my splinter
continue to clap on each stupid action
of his boss, shaking head, and
remain busy in his little puppet moves.

May the other take responsibility of
television, radio and newspapers.

May the other still stay repeating the news of
the relatives and acquaintances
fulfilling formalities of well-being
embroiling in the phatic–
where? what? how?
participating in all of sixteen rituals
and birthdays.

May the other one continue to repeat
the non-news of his immobility
and continue to go to places
where people gather,
and go doing something like that.

May I hold an assembly
of the proportional representation
of all my selves.
may I go out with the poet
by leaving all the others
in their chaotic meaningless arguments.

May my poet remain a poet
in its perfection
unattached to my domesticity
full of scarcities;
may he remain separate
from a job savvy me
who has sold his self-respect.
may my poet disengage itself
from my being
swayed by my brain.

May I discard the outer cover of time
from the layers of poetry
by immersing the poet in its entirety
within me, and
dismantle geography’s barriers.
may I break the windows of consciousness,
break further the dilapidations of waking moments
and emerge into the bright world of dream.

May life remain enamored of its own charm
may the river of love always flow from its own lap
may my pain remain drunk singing its own love songs
and the dead body of agony remain asleep
resting its head on a pillow of flowers.
may I free myself from the labyrinth of knowledge
run away from the jungle of thoughts
and jump from the hill of illusion
into the mind’s speedy currents.
by stepping on this joint of time.
may I pack all inventions in burlaps
and hide them in corners of Einsteins’ brains.

May I free myself from the ever-pressing chest
and enter the garden of imagination
by leisurely hiding brain on hill summits.

May I take off clothes covering shame at the border
leaving them hanging on dry trees of arrogance
and run by wearing the rays of the sun.

May I create plain fields by collecting clouds
and bedeck them with arching rainbows.

Playing ball of wind
reaching the other end of The Road Not Taken
may I call in Robert Frost by holding hands
and request Ginsberg to recite Howl
facing the world.

May I bet with Devkota sitting contentedly
by receiving his lord’s blessings
that you are a poet who has written epics
and win a bagful of stars.

May I exchange T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland
with the future of this earth like a lunatic’s dreams
and make one season of poetry farming
by tilling with the pen of desire.

Oh, this ME
made with so many fragments
could not make any achievements!

May I then splinter away
from myself
and live only with the poet.

...........................................................................
(Suman Pokhrel translated by Abhi Subedi)
...........................................................................
This poem was first published on Life and Legends

I DREAD TO THINK OF A SOCIETY DEVOID OF LOVE, COMPASSION AND HUMANITY - SUMAN POKHREL

'I DREAD TO THINK OF A SOCIETY DEVOID OF LOVE, COMPASSION AND HUMANITY'
- Suman Pokhrel

An Interview with Suman Pokhrel by Romain Molina


Romain Molina - If I am correct, you're from a village near Biratnagar. Can you describe your childhood there? I imagine the situation here was/is very different from other parts of Nepal (religion, ethnic groups, India's border...)

Suman Pokhrel - I was born in Biratnagar and a part of my growing up years was spent here. I was raised by my poet grandfather and bibliophile parents. I guess it was their influence that prompted me to be attracted towards books and go on to take up writing too. Those days the religion of people across Nepal was same with very few exceptions. However, cultures and customs varied among people of different ethnicity, and living in different geographical areas. The ethnic groups in hills and plains were and are varied. As my childhood got opportunity to grow up amidst variety of geography and people practicing different cultures, I could experience the very essence of our diversity.

Romain Molina - In France, it's very rare to find someone writing poems nowadays; and it's a shame when you remember our tradition with Baudelaire, Victor Hugo, etc. Is it the same thing in Nepal or the poems are really a part of your culture?

Suman Pokhrel - The situation is very much similar here in Nepal. However, poetry is part of our culture in many ways. We have practice of reading Sanskrit verse during our religious and cultural events. Traditionally, there was practice of reciting a form of poetry called KHANDO in Nepali language during marriage ceremonies in my culture. People of different ethnicity have their own types of poetry to recite and sing as folk songs during cultural and religious proceedings. In light of these, I am quite sure that poetry will live long with our generations to come.

Romain Molina - I read a lot of your poems (in English of course). You are, as You are is an amazing piece for me, is my favorite. In each of your poems I read, you talk about love. My question is simple but why ? There's always a connexion to love, humanity, compassion... Values that I share.

Suman Pokhrel - I'm delighted to know that you have read and appreciated my poems. You are, as You are was written years ago and it is good to know it still touches people's heart. When you say that you find the quintessential element of love in my poem; all I want to tell you is that love, compassion, humanity are values which are irreplaceable. They are inherent qualities in human life. I dread to think of a society devoid of these values. In absence of these qualities in our nature, our planet would remain nothing but a material object. Hence, it is my earnest effort through my writing to express my belief on these essential qualities of life.

Romain Molina - You've wrote something beautifull about Taj Mahal. Why this monument and not something else?

Suman Pokhrel - Taj Mahal is not just a monument, but a symbol of love. In my poem, I urge readers to celebrate love throughout life. Instead of the loving the dead, I feel, we should love the living. Moreover, in my view; love is a feeling, and its expression is an art. I found the Taj Mahal as the most appropriate example of artistically expressed love; hence, a proper monument to write on to convey my message of love.

Romain Molina - Tibet, China, India... Nepal seems to be between the roof of the world and the biggest countries. It's a unique situation in the world. What's your point of view? For my foreign point of view, it seems that Nepal separates the Chinese and Indian world. It's a fascinating (and complicated!) situation.

Suman Pokhrel - Yes, Nepal does separate the societies in these two countries. China and India have seemingly different cultures. Nepal’s bordering areas in both sides’ buffer respective cultures across borders. However, in my view, culture is not the single factor to separate these populations. Geopolitical situations and economic ‘spaces’ play vital roles in mixing up and staying separate. Good thing for us is that this is fascinating but not complicated till date.

Romain Molina - The Greeks used to say:"Healthy body, healthy mind." Are you agree with that quote and do you think sports is a process to clean up your body and your mind?

Suman Pokhrel - Certainly. I am agreed with Greeks in this regards. We cannot imagine a mind without body. Body is the container of mind. If we have good container, we can keep the contents safer for longer duration. And it is obviously proven that sports keep the body fit, hence the mind.

An Interview - AN INDIVIDUAL APPRECIATES POETRY ON THE BASIS OF THEIR 'SPHERE OF INTELLECT'

(An interview with Lokantar)


AN INDIVIDUAL APPRECIATES POETRY ON THE BASIS OF THEIR 'SPHERE OF INTELLECT'
- Suman Pokhrel


Suman Pokhrel is a widely read poet with more fan-following in foreign countries than in Nepal. His works have appeared in various global poetry platforms. Two-time SAARC Literary Award recipient, Pokhrel has also penned short stories, essays, translations, plays, and songs, among others.

Pokhrel has been quoted worldwide in various quotation websites and literary articles. Making his mark in writing, activism and inspiration, Pokhrel’s Facebook page is one of the few verified pages of literary figures from South Asia.

One of his several quotes published in topfamousquotes.com goes like, ''If I’d ever grown prosperous like Shah Jahan was, I’d not have waited for my beloved’s death before I erected a Taj Mahal” has been ranked among the top three quotes on Taj Mahal. This quote was extracted from his poem titled Taj Mahal and My Love.

A media-shy person, Pokhrel agreed for an interview with Birat Anupam for Lokaantar.com. Below is a summary of long conversation with this versatile poet.

Q. How do you define yourself–as a poet, playwright, lyricist, essayist, translator or an artist–since you have worked on all these genres of literature?

A. I am happy to be reckoned as a poet as poetry covers all spheres of literature. A powerful poet can pen a powerful essay but a powerful essayist may not be able to write powerful poems. I think all other genres are derivatives of poetry.

Q. If so, are you happy with your definition in Wikipedia that goes this way: ”Suman Pokhrel is a multilingual Nepali poet, lyricist, translator, and an artist.”?

A. That is their style of introducing people. People define others in their own way, based on their findings and perceptions. There is a saying that people have three identities: one, the identity they are convinced upon; second, an identity given by others and third, the real identity which may lie somewhere between the first and second.

Q. You have good reputation in literary translation. However, your Nepali poems are translated into English by Prof. Dr. Abhi Subedi, poet Manu Manjil, poet Mukul Dahal, among others. Why so?

A. In my view, an effective translation can be carried out by a poet and a good translator who is better equipped with poetic and lingual ingredients. So far as my own experience is concerned, a poet has some constraints to translate his/her own creations. Translations should be executed by a translator. While translating own poems, the poet has to be extra cautious or else the original essence of the poem can be altered. This is only because s/he thinks s/he has the liberty because it is his/her poem. However, I have translated many of my poems myself.

Q. When is a poet supposed to publish his collection of poems?

A. This is a very common and easy question with some complex answers. I guess any poet with his/her size-able poetry audience can publish his\her poetry book.

Q. What sorts of poems are appreciated by a huge audience?

A. Generally, poem is understood and liked on the basis of the 'sphere of intellect' of an individual. Poems falling under the sphere of intellect of larger size of readers can be popular. It doesn’t mean that all popular poems are powerful in their content, structure and art. Many of the vibrant poems haven’t been appreciated by a larger mass of audience as those poems don’t fall under their sphere of intellect.

Q. It is said that contemporary poems in Nepal are thematic and based on certain trends. How do you assess this?

A. I believe that poem itself is an invention. And an invention or discovery doesn’t go with any particular trend. Poetry must be exclusive and it mustn’t go with the trend. Bucking the trend is the very nature of good poetry. Nepal’s great poet Laxmi Prasad Devkota and pioneer of prose poetry Gopal Prasad Rimal are always remembered as they didn’t follow any trend but paved their own distinct way.

Q. What is your take on women’s literature in Nepal?

A. A litterateur or a poet definitely does belong to one of the genders. That doesn’t mean it is always visible. A male poet sometime writes as a man and sometimes as human. To cite my own example, I wrote Children as a human and wrote Taj Mahal and My Love as a man. I think the same applies to women poets and litterateurs everywhere.

Q. You have good rapport with poets and literary figures around the SAARC region. What is their impression on Nepali literature?

A. I have had the opportunity to witness many such occasions when Nepali poetry got recognition. Nepali poetry has definitely made a major impact in South Asia and beyond. Poetry possibly is one of the few areas where Nepali content has been acclaimed.

.................................
Source- http://english.lokaantar.com/intervie...

English translation of Abhi Subedi’s poem “निचरेर सुकाएको आकाश”

Sky, Wrenched and Stretched to Dry
by Abhi Subedi

On falling a showering wail onto
my ears
from sky,
I rushed to find;
earth, by entwining her attire
into the wheels of my motorcycle,
got herself almost unclad, and
sat plumped like water.
akin to wet laundry, I got hanged stretched
with love; and
I became an ethereal sky, wrenched
and stretched to dry.


(Translated from Nepali by Suman Pokhrel)

पीडाको वन्दना (Nepali translation of Nazik al-Mala’ika's poem 'Hymns to Pain')

पीडाको वन्दना (दुई)
- नाजिक अल मलाइका (२३ अगस्ट १९२३ - २० जुन २००७ / इराक)


किन आउँछ हामी भए ठाउँ यो पीडा?
कहाँबाट आइपुग्छ यो?
वर्षौँदेखि
लडिबुडि खेल्दै हाम्रा सपनाहरूमा
सिँगारिरहेछ यसले हाम्रा गीतहरूलाई।
तिर्खाएका मुख रहेछौँ हामी
र यिनै पीडालाई पिएर प्यास मेट्ने गर्दा रहेछौँ ।

कसै गरी तलाउसम्म पुर्‍यायौँ घिसारेर त्यसलाई हामीले
कुनै सुस्केरा नलिई, आँसुको एक थोपोसमेत नचुहाई
टुक्र्‍यायौँ त्यसलाई
र छरिदियौँ तरङ्गहरूमा,
मिसाउँदैन त्यसले अबदेखि हाम्रो खुसीमा दु:ख
बरू हाम्रा गीतका पछाडि लुकाइदिनेछ सुस्केराहरूलाई भन्ने ठानेर।

त्यसपछि आइपुग्यो
आफन्तहरूले क्षितिजपारबाट हाम्रा लागि भनेर पठाएका
सुन्दर सुगन्धित गुलाफको फूल।
त्यसबाट आशा थियो हामीलाई
खुसियाली र हर्षपूर्ण सन्तुष्टी देला भन्ने,
तर त्यसले त झनै विक्षिप्त गरायो
र आँसुसँगै बग्न थाल्यो पीडा
पीरहरूले कुँदिएका हाम्रा औँलाहरूमा।


Nazik Al-Malaika translated by Suman Pokhrel from Husain Haddawy's English translation from original Arabic.

खै के थियो, भन्नुपर्ने (Nepali translation of Gulzar's poem "न जाने क्या था, जो कहना था")

खै के थियो, भन्नुपर्ने
-गुलजार

खै के थियो, भन्नुपर्ने
खै के थियो भन्नुपर्ने
तिमीलाई भेटेर आज।
तिमी भेट्टिएकी पनि थियौ
तर, खै कुन्नी के भनेँ मैले।

एउटा कुरा, जुन तिमीलाई भन्छु भन्ठानेथेँ
तिमी भेटिदाँ त्यो पहिल्यै भनिसकेको हुँ जस्तो लाग्यो।
खै के थियो,
के थियो खै कुन्नि
भन्नुथ्यो तिमीलाई भेटेर आज।

केही यस्ता कुरा जुन भनेको छुइनँ तिमीलाई, तर
भनिसकेँ हुँला कुनैबेला जस्तो लाग्छ
तिम्रो सम्झनामा होश गुमाएको छुइनँ, तर
तिमीलाई सम्झिँदा केही बिर्सेबिर्से जस्तो हुन्छ।

खै के थियो,
के थियो खै कुन्नि
भन्नुथ्यो तिमीलाई भेटेर आज।

Gulzar translated by Suman Pokhrel

आर्यघाटमा केही लेखिरहेको छैन

आर्यघाटमा केही लेखिरहेको छैन
- सुमन पोखरेल


यस्तो बेलामा
मान्छे आम मान्छे भए
झोक्राएर बस्ने थियो कुनामा
वा फाल हाल्ने थियो भीरबाट खोल्सामा
वा एक गिलास पानी खाने थियो, धारामा थापेर ।

तर सबै म विशिष्ट हुन्छ
त्यसैले म
त्यसो गरिरहेको छुइनँ ।

यो बेलामा, यस्तो बेलामा
म केही लेखिरहन पनि सकिरहेको छुइनँ ।

बिर्सिएको छु मैले अक्षरहरूलाई
शब्दहरूलाई, मसीहरूलाई
रङ्गहरूलाई ।

त्यसैले म टोलाइरहेको पनि छुइनँ
र
लेखिरहेको पनि छुइनँ ।

यो रातभरि
कोल्टे फेरिरहन पनि सकिरहेको छुइनँ
निदाइरहन पनि सकिरहेको छुइनँ
तिमी नै जसरी ।

मलाई विश्वास भइरहेछ
तिमी पनि यो नाटकजस्तो जीवनदेखि दिक्क छौ
यो अभिनयदेखि आजीत छौ
म नै जसरी ।

तिमी पनि
मान्छेका लस्करहरूको चोर ‍औंलादेखि डराउछौँ
र आफूलाई
तिनै चोरऔंलाहरू बाटिएर बनेको समाजका लागि
चरु बनिदिन्छौ -
स्वाहा !
स्वाहा !
स्वाहा !

योॐ विनाको स्वाहा हो
यहाँ शान्ति छैन मनहरूमा
यहाँ नदीहरू बग्दैनन्
यहाँ मान्छेहरू भीड मात्र हुन् ।

***

यो सृष्टिमा
सिर्जित हरेक वस्तुमा संवेदन हुन्छ
यहाँ स्वास्नीमान्छेहरूमा संवेदन हुन्छ
यहाँ लोग्नेमान्छेहरूमा संवेदन हुन्छ
यहाँ जोसुकै मान्छेहरूमा संवेदन हुन्छ ।
तर पनि
यहाँ मान्छे
झुण्ड बनाएर आफू हराउने गर्दछ
र
संवेदन बिलाउँछ
बाटिएका चोरऔँलाहरूमा ।

मैले स्वास्नीमान्छेलाई चिन्न सकिनँ
मैले लोग्नेमान्छेलाई चिन्न सकिनँ
र
मैले मान्छेलाई पनि चिन्न सकिनँ ।

यी तीनवटैको अनुहार कहिले बिल्कुल एउटै हुन्छ
कहिले मुसो र मिसाइल जस्तो पृथक ।

***

यो मान्छेहरूको बस्ती हो ।
भन्नुको अर्थ; यो मान्छेहरूको पनि बस्ती हो ।

यो मान्छेको बस्तीमा रात
दिन नबिराई आइरहन्छ ।

मान्छेलाई रात चाहिन्छ
निद्रा लागेको बेला सुत्नलाई
नलागेको बेला कोल्टो फेर्नलाई
अघिको दिन सम्झनलाई
र
अरु पनि केही गर्नलाई ।

***

झ्याऊँ झ्याऊँ झ्याऊँ झ्याऊँ झ्याऊँ
किक् किक् किक् किक्
सररर सररर
हलो हलो हलो माइक टेस्टिङ्
छैंया छैंया छैंया छैंया
ए ! क्या बोलती तू
घर्रऽऽऽऽर
किटिक् खिटिक् किटिक् खिटक्
यो
रातको बोली हो
मेरो कोठामा ।

पिलिक्क झ्याप्प, पिलिक्क झ्याप्प
पिलिक् पिलिक् पिलिक्,
रातो इन्डकेटर
मस्क्यूटो डिस्ट्रवायरको बत्ती
भित्त्ताको ऐना;
यो
रातको अनुहार हो
मेरो कोठामा ।

यस्तोमा मान्छेले (आम मान्छेले )
स्लिपिङ पिल्स
भेलियम फाईभ वा टेन खान्छ ।
तर, मान्छेको म विशिष्ट हुन्छ।
त्यसैले
मले त्यस्तो केही खाँदैन ।

मैले त्यस्तो केही खाइरहेको पनि छैन
मैले कलम चलाइरहेको पनि छैन
मैले आँखा उघारिरहेको पनि छैन
मैले आफूलाई निदाइरहेको पनि छैन
मैले निद्रालाई कोल्टे फेराइरहेको पनि छैन ।

***

मान्छेको शरीर
मान्छेको सिर्जना होइन
प्रयास मात्र हो ।

शरीरमा अंग हुन्छ
अंगहरू हुन्छन् ।

तिमी निदाएको छैनौ
म पनि निदाएको छुइनँ ।

मुटु चल्दैछ
टुक टुक ।
नाईटोमा ।

सृष्टिको अनुहार टाँसिएको छ
मेरो कायामा ।

***

कसैले सोध्यो
तिम्रो गाग्रोमा पानी छ ?
मैले नरिवलको रुखको पात देखाइदिएँ ।

मान्छेको भाग्य त्यस्तै त छ आखिर !
जीवन जस्तो
चिरैचिरामा सग्लिएको ।
मायाको तातो
र
बाटेका औंलाहरूको चिसो मिसिएर ।

छोप, छोप
केशहरूले छोप नाईटोलाई,
ढुकढुकी माथितिर सरोस्
छातीको अलि नजिक ।

सृष्टिको हरेक कुरामा संवेदन हुन्छ
नाइटोभन्दा माथि पनि
नाइटोभन्दा तल पनि
त्यसले त संसार चलेको छ
टुक्रा टुक्रा जोडिएर
अरु टुक्रा उमार्नलाई ।

तर
यो रातमा
म केही लेखिरहन सकिरहेको छुइनँ
कोल्टे फेरिरहन पनि सकेको छुइनँ
निदाइरहन पनि सकेको छुइनँ
बिउँझिरहन पनि सकेको छुइनँ
उज्यालो पर्खिरहन पनि सकेको छुइनँ ।

आर्यघाटमा
भोलि पनि घाम उदाउने छ ।

जीवनमा
सुकेका पातहरू खसिरहेका पनि हुन्छन्
हावाहरू उडिरहेका पनि हुन्छन्
पानीहरू बगिरहेका पनि हुन्छन्
नदीहरू वरपर सरिरहेका पनि हुन्छन्
रातहरू गहिरिरहेका पनि हुन्छन्
ताराहरू छरिरहेका पनि हुन्छन् ।

सनपाट र बाबियो मिसाएर
केको डोरी बाटनु ?
पिङका लिङ्गाहरू कता फर्काउनु ?

***

तिमीले सोध्यौ, जीवन के हो ?
मलाई भन्न मन लाग्यो - मृत्यु,
कसैले सोध्यो, गन्तव्य कहाँ हो ?
मलाई भन्न मन लाग्यो - मृत्यु,
उसले सोध्यो, प्राप्ति के होला ?
मलाई भन्न मन लाग्यो - मृत्यु,
जो सुकैले सोध्यो, सृष्टि के हो ?
मलाई भन्न मन लाग्यो - मृत्यु,
सबैले सोधे, मृत्यु के हो ?
मलाई भन्न मन लाग्यो - मृत्यु ।

न्यूटनले, रदरफोर्डले, बोरले
विज्ञान जम्मा गरेर भने
क्षय - अणुको गतिको परिणाम – शून्य – मृत्यु ।

विज्ञान मृत्यु
भोक मृत्यु, ज्ञान मृत्यु
शक्ति मृत्यु, एटम मृत्यु, युद्ध मृत्यु
जीवन मृत्यु
मलाई आज किन जे सुकै मृत्यु लागिरहेछ ?

यो रातमा
यो मेरो कोठामा
सूर्य मृत छ
उज्यालो मृत छ
मन मृत छ
केवल जीवित छ
एउटा अस्तित्व
जीवन्त छ त
बस्, यो कलम ।

आर्यघाटमा
सधैँ घाम उदाउने गर्छ ।


(शून्य मुटुको धड्कनभित्र \\ सुमन पोखरेल \\ २०५६)

From Shoonya Mutuku Dhadkanbhitra by Suman Pokhrel

शून्य मुटुको धड्कनभित्र

शून्य मुटुको धड्कनभित्र
- सुमन पोखरेल Suman Pokhrel


यो कस्तो शून्य भयो ?
मुटुले पनि पोल्यो
आँखाले पनि पोल्यो
केवल आगोले पोलेन
यो चुरोटले पोलेन ।

मायाले पोल्यो
आरिसले पोल्यो,
हिजो हरायो
आज शून्य भो' ।

***

तरल यो जीवनबीच
न आलिङ्गनले भिजायो
न चुम्बनले भिजायो
न यौवनले भिजायो ।
क्षितिजसहित आकाश शून्य भो'
फगत आँखाले भिजायो ।

पैदल यात्रा यो तरलताको
पाइला हरायो उडेर आकाशमा।
माया आगो, माया पानी
मिलेर आपसमा
धूवाँ भो
यो कस्तो शून्य भो ।

माया शून्य !

माया किन हुन्छ शून्य?

शून्य मायाले जीवनको
आँखा शून्य भो'
मुटु हरायो ।

मुटु हरायो
अन्धकार भो ।
संसार जीवित छ
सूर्य उदायो
आँखा अन्धकार भो
आँखा शून्य भो ।

***

म माया
माया शून्य, म शून्य !
आँखा शून्य, पानी शून्य
तरलतामा बिलाएका चेतना शून्य ।
तरलता शून्य
यो कस्तो शून्य भो ?

यो हिजो
त्यो आज ।
उल्टिएर धरती, ठाडिएर तरलता
पोखिएर आगो
आगो माया भो ।

आलिङ्गन आगोसँगको
आलिङ्गन मायासँगको
आलिङ्गन जीवनसँगको ।

मेरो जीवनले भन्यो
यो अन्तिम आलिङ्गन हो
हामी बीचको ।

म माया, म डर
म मौन, म विलिन ।

***

मैले पाएको उपहार हो यो
सेतो ओछ्यानमाथि सेतो तन्ना
सेतो तन्नामाथि सेतो ओछ्यान
राता मायाहरू र
हरिया मायाहरू फक्राएर ।

अनुपम उपहार
मेरो एकान्तसँगको मेरो कोठा
र यो वैयक्तिकता
र यो तन्ना सेतो
र यो ओछयान सेतो;
जहाँ तरलता शून्य छ
आगो शून्य छ
माया शून्य छ
आरिस शून्य छ
व्यवहारिकता, सामाजिकता शून्य छ
भौतिकता र संवेदन शून्य छ ।

यो शून्यतामा
म जीवनसँग निस्फक्री
माया गर्न पाउने छु,
जहाँ जीवन निर्वस्त्र मेरो अगाडि उभिएको हुन्छ
मेरा लागि अन्तिम आलिङ्गन बोकेर;
संवेदनाका धड्कनसँगै
मुटु र आँखाहरूमा
हत्केला र ओठहरूमा;
जहाँ केही पनि नग्न छैन ।

त्यहाँ नग्नतामा आवरण छ मायाको
रातो, ओठहरू जस्तै
तरल, आँखाहरू जस्तै ।

यो नग्नताभित्रको मायामा
वैयक्तिकता शून्य भो ।

वैयक्तिकताको शून्यतालाई पन्छाएर
आलिङ्गनमा बेरेर नग्न जीवनलाई
एउटा रुमानी कविता लेख्न पनि त सकिन्थ्यो !
तर
खुसीका निर्वैयक्तिकता बीच
जीवनसँगको माया र चुम्बनमा
कविताको के अर्थ ?

साँच्चै नै आलिङ्गनमा जीवनको
कविता अर्थहीन लाग्छ,
जसरी
राम्री मायालाई राम्री भन्नु
लजालु आँखालाई लजालु भन्नु
माया गर्नेलाई माया गर्छु भन्नु
कति निरर्थक लाग्छ
कति अनुतपादक लाग्छ !

सपनाजस्तो
जीवनजस्तो
साथ रहुञ्जेल रमाईलो
साथ छुट्दा शून्य ।

यो कस्तो शून्य भो ।

***

आलिङ्गनले बेरेर शून्यतालाई
मायाको अनुभूति यो छातीमा
छातीभित्रदेखि
छातीभित्रसम्म
मुटु वरिपरि
मुटुभित्र ।

आज यो धड्कन मुटुको,
कस्तो शून्य भो !


((शून्य मुटुको धड्कनभित्र \\ सुमन पोखरेल \\ २०५६))
From Shoonya Mutuku Dhadkanbhitra by Suman Pokhrel