To be Dylan's voice-
With a shriek within tremors
In a land of folk, to land like a rolling stone
To be like a strum in silence
Cacophonously universal
Adversely everyone's but uniquely one's
To be a confluence of revolution
Where the voiceless meets the harmonica
Where the withered fingers meet the guitar
A complete unknown like a rolling stone
To be a gust of wind
Blowin' with answers
A genesis of alienation and the burden of perfection-
None's imitation and none's to claim
A centurion's gift but with seclusion as a friend
To be a stream of response
To be a protest
To be Dylan's voice-
To be Dylan.

The tiny moths circled around me as I lit my cigarette to feel the warmth of my mouth,
A bother to sway them away; I just stared perplexed at a fading reality

"My name is Sarah", said she
mirroring my dead wife
Not much to my surprise
I heard the bugs talking every now and then
"What brings you here? This open balcony that no one inhabits?", Said she
"To escape from myself", said I
"It's funny, how you swallow what we call home and it doesn't burn you"
I replied, "but it does **** me, even if it doesn't burn me"
"Oh!", she gasped.
Not understanding what I meant
"I will let you stick to my body just to feel the warmth I stole from your home", said I

She swarmed over my body and slowly her friends joined in too
They felt the warmth of their stolen abode
and I felt the warmth of bodies
They kissed me all over, savoring every trace of their destroyed home and I fell limp but complete

"Your warmth is growing dimmer", said one
My body turned cold and my eyes shut close
I died on that fateful day giving them back a piece of their right
When the morning light fetched sunrays
They had died with me
Laying in bulk beside me.

Ever since we gained consciousness
We were-
Taught to slit throats; not algebra and geometry
Handed not cricket bats but automated rifles

Taught not to play but to hang them by the tree
Dressed not in uniforms but bandanas over our forehead.
Sworn not to education but to shoot heartlessly

We raided a village and killed the head
Took some more of their kind
Decapitated; watched the green turn red
We smoked their temple; raised our flag
Watch the light fade
As they fell into eternal nap.

Their forces marched with guns and bombs
But mostly useless; for we hid among shadows
We reigned over branches and slit them when they least expected.
We had sworn our loyalty when we hadn't learnt to speak
We felt no joy; no sorrow
We didn't know what our future would be,
Would it be a death in the form of a bullet?
Would it be called normalcy?

One raid complete- forced to fight the next
We were always fighting for they said we were the best,
All of us had our appetite for blood,
I robbed a mother of her child-
Snapped the little thing right in front of her.
Shot one up his ******,
Plucked one off his ear-
A girl my age watched with horror, the advocacy of a Devil-
Smeared in mahogany red with gushes of fluid splashing on my face.
I gripped the machete, ready to strike
But her eyes were an aegis of her own-
An iron resistance against something that had never felt warmth,
My heart ached as if Hell was gavelling every part of me.
To tear that perfect face of hers- To gouge out her aegis with my warhammer.
Every step towards her felt heavy, so I pulled out my pistol
Aiming right towards her, my finger jammed as if the metacarpals were commanding me to stop.
I had like a Godman bestowed mercy upon her to cover up my inability to blow her the Death kiss.

As I turned the other side, a bullet flew beside my ear-
The "swoosh" rapidity bedazzled me
With anxiety and fear, I turned my back
To see my Dead Deity,
The comrade shot her dead- his unholiness pierced through her shield.
A string passed through my head and it gifted me a memory;
Of us playing in the sand building castles
Of us going to school together
Never had I seen the beach,
Never had I experienced learning,
So what was that?

After the raid was done, I plucked a blood-stained daisy and placed it over her dead body.
And to this day, I think
How life would've been
If it was different and she was with me.

I once was a pirate, terror at sea
Sailed past all currents, tamed the fiercest beasts,
Kissed the wild waves, achieved unmatched feats
Mortals shivered, the o-cean; scared of me!

Cursed was I, heart a lock; needed a key,
Tasked to venture where even God retreats!
My crew fled- left to face my last defeat.
Drew my sword- if I were to die, Let be!

Long hours I searched, until at last, drew nigh
A maiden, one unlike I'd ever seen
Each breath, each glance drew me ever closer

Realised there was no key, it was a lie,
Drained my soul, to claim me was Death quite keen,
The Siren sang death, The pirate's wrath; over.

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.