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Showing posts from August, 2015

म उसको छाँया हुँ उ मेरो प्रतिविम्व

पस्छु  अनि निस्कन्छु  निस्कन्छु अनि पस्छु  कहिले भित्र  कहिले बाहिर  अनगीन्ती सपनासँगै  छरप्रस्ट रहरसँगै  कहिले उसको गतिमा समय चल्छ  कहिले मेरो गतिमा  गान्धि भवन अगाडी बसेर  जब म उसको मुहार हेर्छु  कहिले उसको छाँया भित्र आफ्नो घर देख्छु  कहिले छिमेकीको आँगन  कहिले छिर्छु उसको सुन्दरतासंगै  अनि निस्कन्छु उसको कुरुपतासँगै  कहिले भिडमा पनि एक्लो पाउँछु  कहिले एकान्तमा पनि भिड  मेट्छु   कोर्छु  कोर्छु अनि मेट्छु  आफ्नो अनि उसको छाँया  म उसँगै बुढी हुदै छु  ऊ मलाई उछिनेर जवान  कहिले रुन्छु उसको कथासँगै  कहिले बहकिन्छु उसको कवितासँगै  म उसको छाँया हुँ  उ मेरो प्रतिविम्व  उ सेक्सपिएर सिद्ध्याएर  माया एन्जोलो पढाउँदैछ  म परिवार छोडेर  बुढो विश्वविधालय बुझ्दैछु  ऊ प्रेम सिकाउँदैछ  म बिद्रोह बुझ्दैछु  उ भाषाभित्रको हार्मोनी बुझाउँदैछ  म भाषाले दिएको बिछोड सम्झदैछु  तर पनि जबजब उ रुन्छ कताकता म पनि भक्कानिन्छु  किनकि उ रंग हो  म उही रंग पोतिएको क्यानभास। 

Beauty Versus Me

 Every individual has a different concept of beauty. It is an implicit term. Although our society has a certain taboo about the beauty that gives more emphasis on the overall appearance or outlook of the person. And it seems more rigid in case of women. I am one of the victims of it. I endure lots of mistreatments and cruelties because of it. But up to teenage, I never understood that external beauty has so much worth. From childhood, I kept on believing that beauty is not only the skin deep. It is something which has great significance with morality, ethics and overall character of the person. Similarly, my mom always taught me how to be proud of my black complexion, my femaleness and therefore my inherent ability to rise after every fall. However, the outer reality is far more different than my belief. So, it leads me towards a great agony. This is the untold story of my life that made me a different person. My mom never gave me any suggestion, tips or lesson about the tech