Of many elephants who once walked- brave!
Through the foothills of Terai, rivers and lakes!
Nothing seems familiar like the past!
Of those lush forests that did not even last!
And many died that ill fate...
Written by humans- whom they met!
On their way to the home they called!
Where their spirits got mauled!
One more down- laid on the ground!
A bullet within- dead 'they' found.
One by one, the elephant will go!
And alas, you must end this show!
~ Sanjeeta Hridayaninadini
As the bird learns to fly,
To the vast sky-
Rarely the bird will find-
That warmth in the nest-
That it left!
The ragged twigs- dark whining stories!
The nest- no longer
Felt the best!
As the bird learnt to fly...🪶
~Sanjeeta Hridayaninadini
While the rest (elephants) left me here-
I sneaked in by crossing that fence!
I broke that door and entered in-
For the smell- of fruits and grains-
That farmer hides behind the hut-
In an utter dismay and fear!
While the rest (humans), away from here!
Talk so big! Plea us to co-exist!
And they know no fear-
Of their sweat being 'raid'*!
Of what it means to be chased!
Or, hitting the train and being dead!
Every night- I write my fate!
As I silently cross that gate!"
~Sanjeeta Hridayaninadini
*Apologies for using this term
And she found!
Knowing what the lost noises mean,
Amidst the crowd of thousands,
Yet the peace within!
And she is the bravest-
For the battle, she is in! 🌿
~Sanjeeta Hridayaninadini
For a bird that chose to fly,
Alone, above the sky!
With no camaraderie!
And no family to inquire!
If her wings were fine?
Sans mother at the time of pain!
Those were her tears,
Oozing as the rain!" 🌿
~ Sanjeeta Hridayaninadini, 'Within her'
If there is a wish to borrow...
And I get a chance to be a bird,
I want to be a sparrow.
Flying over the stream-
And the forests I have never been (to).
Perching on the windowpane!
And chirping my best,
Gathering some fur and some twigs...
Building my cosy nest…
All I do then- are...
Fly, forage and sing…
And in the days of gloom,
I'll puff my plume!
And wait for the spring!
And yes!
How can I forget!
In the list of whom I hate-
Remember me-
If ever a sparrow shits on your head!
...flipped decades.
Dusks still sleep silently.
Pushing hard through the crowds-
Amid the abandoned dreams. Reneged promises...
Wounded time. Caged shadow.
...she walks- tall.
And she will continue to-
dusting it off after every fall!
Detangling the strings-
Solus.
She stood.
~Hridayaninadini.
Dust of the dunes-
Drifted thoughts!
Dunes in the desert.
Dampened dreams-
Dragging the dead desires.
Disappear, she wants to-
the void.
Scars on the mind.
Past that haunts.
Glochids painless-
Plucks some thorns-
Droplets of blood-
On the desert floor.
Dried quickly, not to be healed.
Healed to be dead.
Dust hurled over the dunes.
And she was nowhere to be seen...
Sanjeeta Hridayaninadini
I saw a mirror.
Bright and shiny.
And yet, some scars.
I touched them.
A silent scream,
Echoed deep within.
'...must have been tough'
I thought!
My reflections.
In pieces.
Of words- I never liked.
Of a lost home.
Of a new world-
Of becoming a stranger.
Of being lost!
I saw myself.
Bright and shiny!
And yet, some scars.
Was it me or that mirror?
Something felt-
Broken!
Sanjeeta Hridayaninadini
Everything.
All things, there were-
that made her engaged.
She grabbed one doll.
A book.
And a few chairs.
Flipped the pages.
She rejoiced.
Pulled hands of a doll.
Laughed.
Saw a unicorn.
Ran behind
Everything around her-
made her happy.
............................
While- on the other side,
Of a glass door-
Stood that love.
Silently observing her.
Her little tears...
Tiny fears.
Love observed them all.
...............................
And now when she realized-
That she missed something-
Amidst these joys.
She did not know-
What stood on the other side of-
A glass door.
~Sanjeeta Hridayaninadini
Strange, it is.
The ache within.
If it could speak.
The volumes, it would be.
Learn, I must.
From these throbs.
Amidst the sharp pain,
Cajoled my lips into the smile.
Sanjeeta Sharma Pokharel 'Hridayaninadini'
She sat on that wooden chair and pondered.
Glanced out through the mesh,
That had a hole in the corner, a tiny fly sneaked in.
Wondered what she found, she lost the decades.
The dried leaves. The butterfly that fluttered around,
Flew high and disappeared.
The shadows of the leaves and branches, the bright sun,
She thought, art on the ground,
Only a few will behold, the rest will pass by.
as her lashes clasped each other, her eyes,
They reached to the branch,
From where a dried leaf toppled down...
A tenuous thread spun around the twig,
An end where sat this tiny fly,
And another attached to the torn kite.
She stopped.
Bright yellow, it may have been.
As the mangled paper ruffled upside down.
The slight gush and another leaf toppled.
The kite and the wind!
Must have been a dream of that little kid,
Who laughed heartily, to see his kite reach the extreme.
A season or two might have passed,
As the paper was still bright,
The same brilliance that it had on its last flight.
The rest shall perish in the seasons to come...
Another little kid, will run to that meadow and fly his kite!
No one shall ponder again about...
The tiny fly that sneaked in...
The butterfly and the dried leaves
...the torn kite stuck in that branch~
~Sanjeeta Sharma Pokharel 'Hridayaninadini'
Art by: Lisa Lea Bemish
ನೀವು ಮನುಷ್ಯರು, ಹಾಗೆಯೇ ನಾನೂ!
ನೀವು ಹೇಗೆ ನೋವು ಮತ್ತು ಸಂಕಟವನ್ನು ಅನುà²à²µಿಸುತ್ತೀರೋ
ಹಾಗೆಯೇ ನಾನೂ!
ಈ ಸಂದರ್à²à²¦à²²್ಲಿ, ನಾನು ನಿಮಗೆ ಒಂದು ಕಥೆಯನ್ನು ಹೇಳುತ್ತೇನೆ!
ಇಲ್ಲಿಂದ ದೂರದಲ್ಲಿ ಒಂದು ಹಳ್ಳಿ ಇದೆ!
ಒಂದು ಸಣ್ಣ ಹಳ್ಳಿ! ಜನರು ತುಂಬಾ ಕರುಣಾಮಯಿಗಳು!
ಒಂದು ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಸಮಸ್ಯೆ ಇದ್ದರೆ,
ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಬಂದು ಸಹಾಯ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು!
ಬೇರೊಬ್ಬರ ನೋವನ್ನು ಕಂಡರೆ,
ಎಲ್ಲರಲ್ಲೂ ಕಣ್ಣೀರು ಹರಿಯುತಿತ್ತು!
ತುಂಬಾ ಒಳ್ಳೆಯ ಜನರು!
ತುಂಬಾ ಕರುಣಾಳು ಗ್ರಾಮ!
ಆದಾಗ್ಯೂ!
ಮೂರೂ ತಿಂಗಳ ಹಿಂದೆ, ತಾಯಿ ಮತ್ತು ಮಗು!
ಅದೇ ಹಳ್ಳಿಯಲ್ಲಿ, ಸಾವನ್ನಪ್ಪಿದರು !
ಆದರೆ ಆ ಹಳ್ಳಿಯ ಜನರು!
ಅವರು ಯಾವುದೇ ನೋವನ್ನು ಅನುà²à²µಿಸಲಿಲ್ಲ!
ಅವರ ಕಣ್ಣಿನಿಂದ ಯಾವುದೇ ಕಾವೇರಿ ಹರಿಯಲ್ಲಿಲ್ಲ!
ಯಾಕೆ, ನಿಮಗೆ ಗೊತ್ತಾ?
ಸತ್ತ ತಾಯಿ ಮತ್ತು ಮಗು ಆನೆಗಳಾಗಿದ್ದವು!
ವಿದ್ಯುತ್ ಆಘಾತದಿಂದ ಅವು ಸಾವನ್ನಪ್ಪಿದವು!
ದುರಾದೃಷ್ಟವಶಾತ್, ಅವು ಮನುಷ್ಯರಾಗಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ!
ತಾಯಿ ಮತ್ತು ಮರಿ!
ಅವುಗಳಿಗೂ ಒಂದು ಕುಟುಂಬವಿತ್ತು!
ಅವುಗಳಿಗೂ ಸ್ವಂತ ಮನೆ ಇತ್ತು!
ಅವೂ à²ಾವನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಹೊಂದಿದ್ದವು!
ಮತ್ತು ಅವೂ ಸಹ ನೋವನ್ನು ಗ್ರಹಿಸಬಲ್ಲವುಗಳಾಗಿದ್ದವು!
ದುರಾದೃಷ್ಟವಶಾತ್, ಅವು ಮನುಷ್ಯರಾಗಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ!
ಒಳ್ಳೆಯದು, ಅವು ಮನುಷ್ಯರಾಗಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ!
ಇಲ್ಲದಿದ್ದರೆ!
ಅವು ತಮ್ಮ ಮನೆಗಳನ್ನು ವಿಸ್ತರಿಸುತ್ತಿದ್ದವು!
ತಮ್ಮ ವಾಸಸ್ಥಳವನ್ನು ಅತಿಕ್ರಮಿಸುತಿದ್ದವು!
ಮತ್ತು ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯವನ್ನು ನಿರ್ಬಂಧಿಸುತ್ತಿದವು!
ಸಾವಿರ ಕಥೆಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಇದೂ ಒಂದು ಕಥೆ!
ಉತ್ತಮ ಹಳ್ಳಿಯ ಕಥೆ!
ಜನರು ಜನರಿಗೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ಒಳ್ಳೆಯವರು!
ಆನೆಗಳು ಎಷ್ಟು à²ಾವನಾತ್ಮಕ ಜೀವಿಗಳೆಂದು!
ನಾನು ಮತ್ತೆ ನಿಮಗೆ ಇನ್ನೊಂದು ಕಥೆ ಹೇಳುತ್ತೇನೆ...
ಸಂಜೀತ ಶರ್ಮ ಪೋಖರೇಲ್ 'ಹೃದಯನಿನಾದಿನಿ'
