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In the Dark Corner

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  In the Dark Corner  ****************** Away from hustle bustle of  picnic spot, a ripe-aged man was standing in a dark corner of park, was taking puffs of cigarette. Enjoying smoking, he was interrupted by an inquisite young man, who was curious to know why that old man was standing there alone, puffing cigarette. The old man replied that he was smoking in that dark corner of the park, because he did not want to be observed by his son.  Abruptly, he observed that young man, too, was holding cigarette in his hand and was about to take puff. The old man asked him, "Why are you standing in this deserted corner, leaving the joy of company of others?" The young man replied, "I don't want to be noticed by my parents that I smoke" Rajni Chhabra 22/10/2024
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I HAVE TO KEEP MOVING ************************ Their feet are not composed of  Bones and flesh, Neither any blood circulates in them  Nor they gain their existence  From any thick skin Still, while opening their feet at night They look at these with deep longing, Caress these, Even press these a little, They feel that  After carrying their burden The entire day These too, might have tired And these too, need to relax These, too, need a power nap. They show their love towards these By addressing as companion And at other times address as  Having closeness of breath. With the same intense sincerity  They tie laces of their shoes And with equal fondness Shine them by polishing. These are the feet That carry burden of  Their wounded aspirations, These infuse with self-confidence  Their stagnant life Fill their dumbly present sitting on borderline  With future moving ahead with time. These are the feet winged with Wings of their aspirations. They ...
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KANCHANJUNGA USHERED: ENGLISH VERSION BY RAJNI CHHABRA. POEM ORIGINALLY COMPOSED IN NEPALI BY BIRBHADRA KARKIDHOLI

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KANCHANJUNGA USHERED ***************************** I asked clouds, fog, smoky dust They said  You don't own any part of sky, Birbhadra! I asked high mountains , too They said You don't own any surface, Birbhadra! It is very true that  I don't own any house, any palace, Sir. Not even shambles I merely own a hut In which dwells my mother Once, narrating my story to Kanchanjangha I pleaded Blessing me, she said Calm down, Birbhadra! Observe patience Don't narrate this story to  Anybody else than me Listening to it Neither snow, nor Himalaya will melt Even huge stones can melt, but When stones melt You will suffer more pain Than me, Birbhadra ! After listening to her Caves dwelling in me  Are constantly waiting For soft sunlight You blame me that I am greedy This name has been defamed always Tell me, of what use will  This name be. To you.
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