By Bina Theeng Tamang and translated by Hem Bishwakarma
My Father
Ere yesterday,
I could not see my father
He turned up—
While I had been to collect the sun
.
For the second chance,
He turned up at daytime, yesterday
Oh! I’m sorry, I could not see him
For I went out
To seek a morsel of food
.
Perhaps,
He will turn up this evening
Yet, I am walking out to reap the time
I know, I would not see him yet again
.
My father had to take me
To a hospital
Lifting a spiky sun on his head
Along the bank of the Rapti River
.
I am here —
Showcased as a city-marionette
Grasped by a lollypop so tight
.
He used to look into the sky
With a deep sigh!
I used to look at the city
.
He used to ask briskly
Groping money —
Earned selling the Kulfi
“Which did you like, dear?”
.
He used to laugh
With the face shattered by helplessness;
And the chest stroked by fate
Then he would say,
“You are my heart
How would I live heartbroken?”
.
After four to five years of his avowal
He let his heart
To a strange person
.
He is unwell nowadays
However,
He comes to see a piece of his heart
.
How would he know?
For seeking a mouthful bread
Sometimes for collecting the sun
And frequently to reap the time
The Heart rushes ever
In the marathon of life
.
We may not see each other
In the next visit, too!
.
Bina Theeng Tamang is a writer from Kathmandu. She is an author of two books, Chhuki, a story collection and Rato Ghar, a poem collection. She is an awardee of different Nepali awards.
Hem Bishwakarma is a writer and translator from Nepal. He has poetry and short stories translations, and poems in Nepali and English published to his credit. He mostly works on Nepali-English translations.
.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.
Borderless 