Bhuwan Thapaliya

I am your voice

I am your voice but I will not say a word. I am politically numb. I fear that we may be entering an age of authoritarian populism and one day…

Future

As a gust of wind sends the curtains flapping wildly, I wonder about our future. The future is signaling us to go back. The future is telling us to stop…

Stand up and fight

When you feel your generation is being crushed by the twin excavators of the political imbecility and haphazard bureaucracy. When you realize that the government is insensitive to the peoples…

Mungling Dreams

  He slept as a truck driver with vertigo, in the Mungling lodge midday buffet of daal, bhat, tarkari and naked women, all left on their own. Dreamt he was…

A Peg Of Anguish

Is this life? Is this the life I had dreamed of? I might have foreseen big, beautiful things but all I have in my cup now is a peg of…

Safa Tempo

In the ‘Safa Tempo,’ everyday whistles a chilled exhaustion of human struggle for survival. Every day the smell of a burnt human hope mingles with the unwashed dreams, reeking old…

Oh God! I Thank Them

On the green terrain of the fortitude, I have built a house out of the broken bricks, and the pebbles they had thrown at me. And I have painted my…

What Type Of Poem Am I?

“What type of poem am I?” I am as formless as the clouds, and as elegiac as the silence, in the itinerary of the noise. I am not a classic…

Barren Hills

  No glass in the windows a shell hole in the roof wretched tanks, old fighter jets and rust kissed guns lie around as discarded toys. In the distance traits…

Will You Remember?

No, my world! “I shall never be hopeless ... whatever you may say. I shall rhyme my life with the rhythm of God’s chime, and row my boat of love…

Venomous Girl

  I flinched and hid myself to evade her but she spotted me, her prey. Clad in a national dress, and waving the flags of patriotism in the air she…

Hunger

  Bloated stomachs and rust colored hair strolls everywhere in the countryside and city slums, obliged to perish much before their time empty, naked hungry and cold, their figures are…

To The Wind

Every morning, she stands at the murky corner of her room, and raises her finger to the world. Several Kashmiri shawls, a wreath of roses, an expired passport, feathers of…

We Are

 I am not in you you are not in me. We are as diverse as the stars in the sky; we are not us we are total strangers. You live…

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