By कति आत्तिन्छ तिम्रो मन?
कति सोच्छौ त्यही एउटै कुरा?
केही भन्न मन लागेको
केही लुकाउन मन लागेको,
कहीँ कतै चिच्याएर कराउन मन लागेको
सबै उही सानो केही ग्राम मुटुको आढसमा कैद छ,
हैन त?
थाहा छ, धेरै कोसिस गर्छौ त्यो मुटु हल्का बनाउन,
तर अँह ! बोली फुर्दैन
खै साइत हो यहाँ मिति केही जुर्दैन
हेर्दा टिप टप,
झिल्के देखिन्छौ
मन सफा खुल्ला देखिन्छौ,
लाग्छ यसको मुटुमा के नै छ र?
कति सरल देखिन्छौ
कति आराम देखिन्छौ
तर सायद तिमीलाई मात्रै थाहा होला, के छ तिमी भित्र
डढेलोमा जल्नेलाई हो आगोले पोल्ने,
परबाट त डढेलो पनि झलल बलिरहेको उज्यालो देखिन्छ
हुरीमा फसेकोलाई थाहा हुन्छ
त्यो हुरीको गर्जन
घरभित्र बस्नेलाई त सिरेटोको मधुर धुन मात्रै सुनाइ दिन्छ
तिम्रो मुटु भित्रको आधी कहिले सुनिन्छ त?
कहिले डढेलो सेलाउँछ त?
कि यत्तिकै सिद्ध्याउँछौ आफूलाई
कतै केही नभनी
केही नसुनाई,
उही खरानी बनी, माटो बनी,
अनि उही एक भित्ते चित्र बन्ने छौ,
मूर्ति बन्ने छौ,
भगवान् बन्ने छौ,
उही सालिक जस्तै लाग्छ
सालिक केही भन्दै छ
तर शान्त छ
तिमी पनि उही देवता बन्ने छौ,
शान्त, धैर्य, शालीन।
Read English Version of this poem:
How Restless is Your Heart?
How many times does it circle within that same thought?
Something wants to be said,
Something wants to be hidden,
Tucked away in some unseen corner of your mind –
At times the urge to scream,
At times the need to shout.
Everything is locked away in that tiny corner of your heart,
Where dreams are laid like fragile threads,
Sorrows pulled over as blankets,
And hopes wait silently –
Hoping your voice will finally break free.
I know, you’ve tried so hard to lighten your heart,
But words refuse to rise,
Sentences freeze upon your lips,
Dusk flickers in, night deepens –
And you remain,
Trapped within the folds of your own heart.
Your face gleams under the world’s gaze –
Clean, smiling, easy, graceful,
But what lies hidden behind that smile,
Who would ever know?
How simple you appear,
How calm you seem –
Yet only you know –
What churns deep within you.
It’s only the one who burns that feels the sear of the flames,
To others, the fire’s light may seem beautiful,
But the pain of burning – that’s yours alone.
The one trapped in the storm knows its roar,
To those sheltered indoors,
It’s merely the sweet hum of rain on the roof.
But within that storm, in the heart –
Which sea of fear and turmoil surges,
Who will ever know?
When will the storm within your heart be heard?
When will the flames within you subside?
Or will you silence yourself forever,
Without a word,
Without a sound,
Becoming ash,
Becoming earth,
Then becoming a piece of wall,
A painting, a statue,
A monument – that speaks nothing,
But stands quietly,
You will become that statue –
Whose gaze never drops,
Whose lips never part to utter a word,
Whom people call a god –
Calm, patient, serene.
But within that stone,
Which fire still burns,
Which pain still throbs –
Who will see it?
Perhaps, one day, that statue will shatter,
And the voice of your heart,
That storm, that fire –
Will echo across the world.
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