By Bibek Adhikari
A Lament, A Prayer This slow sweltering summer day the suburb seems to be sleeping, succumbing to the heavy & humid daytime lull. I walk from room to room with a glass of fizzy drink, losing track of time with my multifarious musings. I sit down to work amid the late afternoon susurrus sneaking in from the latticed windows. I put my pen aside — and there it rests on the table, too tired, too reluctant to write about all the paralyzing things happening in the world. My mushy brain throbs in its liquid room, swimming in endless tragedies of faraway places. At home, there’s birdsong and a willful indifference, though the heart is not impervious to losing. Days go by. Sparrows cheep and flutter, moths die on window panes, nothing arrives— not a single news of the ones who left us in these sleepy suburbs, full of endless waiting.
Bibek Adhikari writes poetry and fiction. He lives in Kathmandu and works as a freelance technical writer and editor.