In the sky as the children gazed,
They saw not a prism of rainbow
But ***** of fire-
Burning orange, reeking of death.

"Ceasefire, they said" the words betrayed
A mother of two lay dead
A father of three; beheaded

The echoes of joy, no longer reciprocated;
Only the cold shrill of silence repeated,
"Abbu, run faster" "Ammi ! Behena ! Bhai !

The skyline burnt with the missile's glare,
Children- elder, in smoke- filled air
With each minute; a corpse found,
Their homes now buried underground.

Their leaders chant "We'll avenge, we'll maim!"
So they trade blood in the same old game-
Missiles for Missiles, name for name.

The cartographer's pen trembles
Drawing borders in erased pencil,
While the land bleeds real ink.

Hospitals bombarded, Cities destroyed,
Only the schools remain,
But what use of it?
There are no students left to train?

At the UN, they count the toll
While the cemeteries overflow-
Your calculators can't handle the numbers!
The suffered missed on countless Decembers.

Oh God! What sins have they to repent?
How many dawns must break?
Before the children see a rainbow again.

With the cry of a tigress and the beauty of stars,
She fell to Earth from her mother's womb.
Like a bird, she longed to soar-
Like a leaf, she learned to fall.

Her brother was adored; and she was his shadow,
A flicker in the light they reserved for Kings,
Betrayed by her own, yet still-
She dipped her spine in ink and painted wings.

"A woman's hand," they scoffed,
"Was made for holding, not for breaking."
So she raised hers to the sky,
And pulled down lightning for her naming.

They hurled their rocks and built cages around her,
But there exists not a cage, strong enough to hold the storm.
They asked, "Who gave you the right to fly?"
She smirked, "The same God who gave you the Sky."

After years of flight, she was no longer a shadow,
Her brother could have his birthright!
For she claimed something grander than that-
With wings now like an Albatross, she claimed the sky.

She claimed the sky

As prismarine rivers flow beneath mighty mountains- Uncharted by nature and resolute by force,
We Gurungs, with hearts that burn like amber,
Set out on life's unpredictable course.
Symbolised by a Sheep and steadfast as it's horns,
We're simple- but cross the bounds,
We're like Roses; Beauty with Thorns!
Shepherds we are; we graze the earth and all that it offers,
But when it's time to protect our flock (community), we don't care what thrives and what suffers.
With the Tungna at peace and Khukuri in blood,
We know the way of flowers—and of flood.

Fairness; garlanded by Purbeli Kantha, ornamented by cheptesun,
Warriors; accompanied by khukuri and honor in each ounce of blood,
For what can stop us in the battlefield?
When our rage burns like towering walls of fire!
For what can stop us in the battlefield?
When we're not afraid to surrender ourselves in ceremonial pyre!

Blessed with the blessings of 'Aap' and 'Aam'
For our honor is love to us-
We will give up our lives than sell our ethics.
We've always lived by honesty and shall keep living that way
And till then "Chhyaajalo" if you stumble our way.

You ran along the lush green garden with your hair flinging along the lines of air like soaring kites.
My mind was stuck in a whirlwind while you anchored me with your touch.
You held my hand and locked my fingers within yours.
All I could see was your crescent smile, your fleeting dimples softening like shadows at dusk. As the wind crossed us it left a cold longing within our hearts that was hard to name.
The breeze lifted your hair letting it dance freely amidst the diaphanous haze. Gently, I unfurled my fingers from yours and ran them across your heavenly face, tracing the contours of the most beautiful sight my eyes had ever beheld.
I was so lucky to have you and you were happy to have me.
Butterflies- pairs of them- fluttered around us, and for a moment, we stood frozen, our gazes locked, lost in each other
Lost in time,
Lost at a great time-
Lost in the moment
Lost forever.

She's stripped off of her jewel,
Her roots burnt- Her cries; petrified,
She gives life and we take too much.
Her gifts; unfurled and pain implied,
Her house; deprived and she as a house-
Perished.
And then we wonder,
Why the winters are colder?
Why the summers are hellish?
When the protectors of it are
Vanquished.
Even in death- they're pillars,
The pillars of our homes
But who will come forth to save?
The pillars of Blood and Bones.
When the pillars themselves are turned into
Logs of red, saffron and brown.
It took her years to grow-
Years to put on her green gown.
While it took us minutes and hours to cut her down,
No time to bid goodbye, No time to weep,
Broken down by a tormented painful sweep.

Ragged, bruised, *****- yet a happy small boy,

Roams around the streets of this wretched town

He’s a small bundle of misery with a bit of subdued joy,

He greets but he’s met with an unsolicited frown.



The town folks are irritated by his situational ploy,

He has no one in this world he could claim as his own

But he has all the sands of this Mother Earth to enjoy,

Why is his life like this? He hasn’t even a sin to atone.



He talks to a girl although, his only ray of hope,

Her name he doesn’t know but knows she sweeps,

She drives him forward in life’s steep *****,

But today while playing- she doesn’t smile, she weeps.



She says with teary eyes and a broken smile,

“My father has set my marriage with a washer man”,

It was hard to comprehend; he stood there confused for a while

“Would she run away with me?” but quickly discarded his plan



For what could he provide her with? He hadn’t even wealth,

Love can never be sufficient for he didn’t even know if it was love,

He knew he couldn’t even provide meds for her health,

So he let her go, he let her fly in the sky as a free dove.



He attended her wedding from afar with a cold heart,

He wanted to cry but his tears were adamant in his eyes,

He knew it was over- they were forever apart,

“She was just a friend, I wasn’t even in love” coping with lies

But letting her go wasn’t easy- it burned,

He packed his things, and took pain as his prize.



He moved on from the place, never returned,

To a new nest, with no answers or goodbyes.

I picture myself in a realm of love and grace,
With my beloved- away from this society’s ties,
I picture waking each morning in your warm embrace,
Share a deep kiss whilst staring into your eyes.

Our bond is an unspoken taboo for this world,
What’s nectar for us in their eyes is blood,
We want love nonetheless, but hate is hurled
The serenity of our love disrupted by this society’s thud!

What has my identity to do with love?
When all that matters is- he loves me, I love him.
What has my gender to do with love?
When all that matters is- she loves me, I love her.

Love is for the brave, not the coward at heart,
They might whisper, shout or even try to tear us apart
Love is for the brave, it’s neither profane nor sacred,
And ours is fueling the fiery pyre of hatred

Live with love- Live with pride!
Kiss me now, let’s rise and glide.
They’ll hurl their dogma, their hate, their lies,
From our burnt ashes, we’ll yet arise,
Let us break bonds from our chains,
Kick off the hate and rinse off our stains,

“Love is for the brave”
“Love is for the brave”