Birbhadra Karkidholi
(Sikkim - India)

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This is the occasion
of my birth day
which I observed along this year.
I burnt the tips of my fingers
while burning the candle
and I nearly killed myself
with the knife that I used
for cutting the cake.

I was not aware of the spring.
No flowers of any kind bloomed
in our yard
nor any birds visited,
our domestic pigeons too
did not hatch out new chicks.

We got torrents of rainfall this year,
the remaining wishes and the dreams unfulfilled
all died in the battering blows of the
rain and the hailstone.

I unlocked to see myself
After years of confinement
to see how much stuffy I have become
stifled and rotten in the process
torn apart with its dead end reached.
and now
I am looking at those candles,
the burnt fingers, the cake and the knife today,
reminiscent of my birthday
of which I am afraid a little.
Really, a frightening moment.

© Poet

(Published in Kafla Intercontinental - Spring-2016)


As a matter of fact, the fishermen
like floods and deluges.
But the fishes, poor as they are,
donít even recognize the fishermen.

No noise for a second, please!
The noises are trying to separate
from the noises.

Crying is strictly forbidden,
Not a single drop of tear is to be shed.
Laughter is strictly forbidden,
see, there is no trace of smile on the lips.
The eyes have been covered
and a ban has been imposed
On dreams.
If the eyes are covered, is vision essentially
disrupted too?
Does prohibition of tears
mean she is not crying at all?

The swimming fishes
donít have any idea about the river banks.
The fishermen know the fishes
The fishes donít know the fishermen.
Water is essential for the fishes,
but for the water, fishes are not necessary.

© Poet

(Published in Kafla Intercontinental - Spring-2016)