The Dutch brought art, mud and dirt of the Kathmandu heartland,
With cigarette smoke clouding the air, and pizzas in the oven.
Not overcooked, no medium rare, slight rounded, man-made

The ambiance was now of Rembrandt and Van Gogh,
Yellow with the hint of light.
Perhaps coffee, perhaps tea.
And delight in a conversation of philosophy.
Maybe you'll pay, maybe me.

The open doors swallow in the air of the monsoon,
with the enigma of ever binding books who stuck to the wall
Like wall flowers, some folded papers like petals of an unbloomed bud.
They all had smells better inhaled with tobacco smoke.

The music played, and people dance within the security of their thoughts,
The shelter for their thoughts, the flaws of their speech.
Memories,pure and bright radiated from the lamps above the bar,
Lights which come to us only in fallen stars, but wishful thinking
is dangerous.
Hence forget it like Dutch forgot the wars.

Memories are made here, where the humidity is heavy from the perfume of heavy smiles, or folded chins and forheads from a chess game.
Not hidden, no worries, around the corner.
But yet again man made.

Dorsovertical is what my head is in,
contradicted to each other like
the ocean between us
But you cheer me up
being the beautiful soul
you are.

I dont see how the the
rainstorms in the New World are,
but i sure know if its
your eyes that see it, then
its all beautiful

We went walking in the rain, the sun
grass, mud and gravel rocks and sometimes
pavements
But in that fog of the morning here
and that of the mid day there
We're lost to be found everyday
im glad we still talk

I know you dont like to be written about
by me, at least
please know though that i need
you to stay, so slowly the
melancholy of the day disappears
I need you to stay, in my words

Dearest of them all
the light of my life,
without you there is darkness

The love of my life,

I do not find you in the pearl
or in the rest of the world
Like you said i will
I do not go to the "market"
Yes all day i sit still
And to live i have managed

It's not been long till you said
"Hold on to me love,
For in moments i am dead"
And moments later you left me
now watching us from above
And tales i tell my grandson
and he listens so keenly
Love like ours has done
immeasurable healing to him

Bask in your wisdom, the whole village
now comes to me for justice
They're rights taken and land pillaged
How much do they miss their king!

Yes for nine times i thought no
we cannot be so,
The time was seventy years ago
I was young and never imagined
You'll see in me what i hadnt

But i lost now the will to live
im old and not beautiful anymore
you at all the wonderful things at store
To tell me and to make me smile
Why? why couldnt you stay a while

But ill be there, my king
wherever you are our love will bring
Yes ill continue to live
But i'll see you soon i believe
I'll see you soon i believe

What if we never met?
what would then life beget
Would the suffering of you parting ease
Would not your existence please
like it does always to me
though countless time i went heartbroke
But now I am more, as off you go
and i am broke
Across the sea shall you be
would i never be there, letting you know
How beautiful you really are so

What if the pond we met at was never a part
of our lives which we cherish equally although apart
and the half moon on top of the football field
was like another regular moon, hidden with stealth
What if the colors on our faces never changed that day
and there was no water to wash them away?
What if i never told you how beautiful you really are
but i guess a million would tell you far,
a lot far from where i lay
where with you my heart stays
but would it not go so beyond
would there be no bond,
if we never met?

Isnt it beautiful to think though
you bring me sunshine on every morning
and i remind you of things you ignore
perhaps i would never bother you with them
if we never had met before
but i guess we had to, synchronize with the harmony
as dancing to the rhythm of life's own irony
fate called and would call but i guess
to have met you made me myself

Dear Mithila,
The mother of my children,
the love of my life
.
Yes, this place doesnt have wine
so no i havent been drunk

Heard my grandson's prayers,
you've been ill.
Heard you dont even go to the stock market
all day my wife is still.
I met your insurance contractor
And oh! is he a fine entity
he still bestows his powers upon me

My dearest Mithila
Loved you i have for seventy years
And ill love you till seventy eternities more
Our dead son, opened the door
and this place we reside is warm
unlike the winters where i went to the storm,
and blasted rifles in names of a revolution

The love of my life,
the mother of my children.
Teach our grandsons the song we sang
The bells in the market we rang
And let them ask if not pray
for their grandfather far away
Let not little grandsons of mine
forget honor due to evils of time
Oh! how i miss you dear
and oh, how i was wish i was there

You'll come in time, but understand
your wishes, my queen, were commands
but this wish i cant fulfill and i wont let the company,
wont let them take you like they took me
Stay! for my daughter still needs her mother
and my grandsons and granddaughter
needs to know of our love

Forever yours,
Madhav

There is not much to gamble
a drunk ramble,
midnight gunshots
but the city didnt hear,
because violence is it's old peer
and there nothing peaceful
when putting a wager
a blade being your avenger

I'm balling
gambling, falling
and there is the traffic,
spills on the road like molten gold
all the smoke coming out of one *****
city a two thousand years old
Only god really judges you here
because god's not a bureaucrat
look at people and memories leer
and where exactly
is this god of yours at?

I rose, I saw
and I saw the flaw
of what i left my countrymen in
But I decided to rise
Despite my demise
thinking i was dead
but not fallen

But little had i know
that my bloodline would be cast away
and all my subjects go astray
Like the ash-dust in my silver ash tray
they lay contaminated as i blow
the smoke is ceaseless,
as it burns in the eyes of my subjects
But their conscience rejects

As my Royal Stature fell
to my weak heart i had which
i gave away 'till it went stale
and wounds were deeper to stitch
after years of my departure
But in this rupture
of my throne and of the crown
It's not my palace or town,
that is in debris
It is my kingdom

Winds stop to gaze ever shallow morning,
To wake little miss sunshine off her bed

And to take the Winter Princess to school
on the school bus full
And yet she is angry because of words she said
unto to me which came out of my mouth unspoken as much
A certain small trust broken as such
and her temperance is now her temper only
which burns me, makes me whimper totally

And it yet not be the first time i angered her so,
but i am a person who understands slow,
yet im fast enough to apologize
because beyond chemistry and history
i still recognize her,her eyes when i see
the reflection of the moon on the pond
where we met much of the time
Yet memories sublime i know too much to tell
but i had to, get people down to their level to sell
to them, a certain reason they wont buy
Business and technology is inconsistent because
oceans are far apart from us
yet souls draw near and i will thereore fear
of always losing the touch
from your soul of beauty

He who came, on a weary road
saw little difference in life
of how it was before
and how it revolves in strife ,
but he couldn't perhaps be told
as for what he heard where whispers in his head
and things that were less lively, yet almost dead
He wasn't insane but sanity was absent
and it was winds that whispered to him in their
own soft accent
that in the language of life
but he couldn't hear it
he was deafened

His solitude was his prison
his dwelling, his vision
his presence in his own utopia
where he found himself alone
but to mess his expectations
came other souls
he wasn't there the only one
but there were others too along
who he shared his breath
there was compassion's warmth  
and deceit's wrath
and he was disturbed

He wouldn't want to be a label
where one's eyes would tag him
and a free life is a fable
in this world he lives which in grim
is much a pain to his time
Time is so limited yet just to live
in himself he wanted much to believe
but it was exploited
at heart, and retorted
by his own grimaces
because of the judging face
so he became dumb

Not a word heard, not a word said
walking on his own, living or dead
he walks step by step
still judged by many and by some
He is deafened, disturbed and dumb

Blood and bones
never leave the adversity,
with which the lifeless tones
spark with melody

Unheard
live demons,
or monsters whatsoever
The chills of summer
and the heat of winter
Might ignite a million suns
Under the skins of humans

Consumes them till they are burnt
or down under earth six feet
Melody drags with no beat
and no such audibility
Only exists under my skin
In my favors and sins

My demons, my angels,
The hexes, the spells
All under or inside us to begin
All lay there, and then
Under our skins

In my consciousness remains  darker images
undefined ideas some literal espionage
that it pulls
my words rhyme to the sense
when we go behind zero and null
that empty space in our brain
And to our vibes remorse which die
in my consciousness i reside
along as i go by

And is there a reason to explain what i think
as a million thoughts have passed when i blink
is what im hearing thoughts of my own
or is it someone else's whistle in my head blown
But all this has made reflect
that down in the sunshine resides a darkness in my head
a world in my consciousness i neglect

If you shall get me you'd understand
whats in your head makes you appreciate
what makes you retaliate?
is it just function of a naive mind?
these questions pop in my conscious

You cannot tell a word to its meaning
until it is felt in to the brain,
and turned into sound.
Only to make it more worse we
say things we should hear,
instead. Like "thank you"s
and "sorry"s

The oceans are, if not, the wails
in words of the earth alone.
Perhaps explosions of asteroids in far space
are just wails of the universe.
Wails, sobs and cries
Are words only to describe
But the question stands
and might be unanswered
are words hollow or
are they weighted?

Self takes one
Love takes none
Humor takes words
words make puns.
Sunset shows birds
birds make songs
That winds sing along

Sore the winds is a cry
A helpless, faithful cry
to hear it takes one
but cry it takes none
To hurt it might take many
to get hurt it takes plenty
To be happy then
takes none,
To smile through pain,
For momentous gains
A gaze into the world of beauty
and be in the daze of tranquility,
It takes one to make
the world, to intake
All life gives

But it takes none
to go astray
of all the good things
It takes none,
to take it all away

When birds fly further further
as cloud in the sky shutter
the perfume in the air is heavy,
and accommodation of my is heavy
too heavy, for a sight like this
too corny, for a stride like this
But hence i walk, where to go?
Homewards i walk,
slow and slow

And creep i must through dirt
and put out the logs i burnt
turn stones or blast them
go round adversity or jump past them
I know where to go
Homewards i walk,
slow and slow

Adverse it is for me to say though
and no my friend no
i havent found my home
but i know where to go
its home and home alone
and i'll find in time though.
Marking the paths with chalk
Homewards i walk
slow and slow

Destiny,Fate?
and how hard is it?
it winds wield pity ,
with a jungle of concrete built
why havent i found
what ive been looking for?

In big and narrow spaces
in hugs and embraces
of my own and of strangers
why am i not bound
for what im hoping for?

And i see empathy on the mask
of the faces so dark
in coherence of my non-belonging self
and with might or pelf
of my won so called pride,
my emotions divide to see
and tell me
tenderly
what is it again that im looking for?

I can bleed a poem,
from the compass blades i cut
through my skins for
for directions unknown

For the life lived in
an inertia is better
than to feel and react.
The hysteria of the mind
is too violent to me
and all on my part
i can do is bleed in words

Because if nature abhors a vacuum,
like science says
in between that space
must be letters and sentences that rhyme
there might have been poetry sublime
And we can scribble them down on the
paper
Or we simply can bleed

You all must be social
because you judge
without knowledge

I had told you
in the field of grass
when dragonflies hovered by
not to break my heart and never to
cease this moment in which passed
an eternity lasted under the sky
i dont know, what forever meant
anymore

But all i asked was not to break
my heart, and myself
but you broke both in precision
its better to be burnt
alive and at stake
and to feel a little less
tried to save a girl,
from all her nightmares
but it hurt instead

Waiting to fall out of love?
You already  have
its me who pain you gave
who's afraid to love again

Where is Simrik?
she's with me
In the kisses i give
the air i breathe

Where is Simrik.
shes in the flowers i pick
in the streets of lalitpur town
brick by brick

In the sloppy kisses
in my cheeks
under the trees
next to the creek
thats where is simrik
she's under my skin

I am not your good critic
Do not go deep into my critique.
As for me every creature that walks the earth
is beautiful down to their soul.
For me every adversity is a rebirth,
of a thought new to this world

I will never point the wrong, in an action
I will only make you strong, by my actions,
And if i cant i have some words to spare
Some dark tales of mine i can share.
I shall shed light to the brighter side,
show you codes by which i abide.
For those in suffering only come forward
Let this bad critic give you comfort

Take a puff
smurf it up as it snuggles
the free air, it baffles
when smokes thick
blur grey, illusion its depicts

Surp it up
the wrath they scare you with
because life is a myth
are you living, or are breathing
are you awake or still sleeping
and in sober slumber
is this someone else's dream
are you the sum of a banter
of the inner war unseen?

Throw it out
and it goes so slow
and vanishes as it goes
and meets the air
everyone breathes
pain is shared, and none shall heed
that to your lifespan, there is no greed
you breath it,
you feel underneath it,
the canopy
is yet a mystery

Smoke it up
and see
the decree
and the flow
goes down so low
and dont tell them to stop
unless and until
you have smoked it all up

Can you not? Why do you ask
me how my day was
when days are short this
season, and you dont know
how my answers swings around
your head and winds me up in
your dreams

And you would tell me
about yours, but Simrik
i can swear to you I want
to be a part of your
Camu jacket,
in the cluster of your
combat pattern so it could be
never washed away from it
except from your tears

Can you not ask
me why? Because
the swinging of answers will
roam around and keep you again
in four walls of solitude

He tempts me- Mara.
He tried and almost tempted the Enlightened one.
Mara, he calls himself, Mara that brings death.
But so sensually he does so
He tempts me

He says, almost in rhymes, rhythm that dances like death.
The wasteland around the tree of knowledge drops it fruit.
He tempts, and tempts again, in snake oil, perhaps snake skin.
He tempts me the same.

Mara the demon, he is, and he tempts me with flesh of beauty.
He tempts me with bearings of promises in bridal purse of his sisters.
He tempts out of love, he tempts me to lust.
He tempts me all the same.

Mara is he, the demon of temptation.
But temptation I've begun to love.
Tempt me more, Mara. For I've begun to lust for the World and all its giving.

I live i die, im all too human
very human, so human ive lost track
of what time it is

The duration of events between my  life and death
is it time? is it life? I'm living and clock's ticking
all the same, so humanly same

time has value, like its money
time is valuable, some formulae told me
time is money, and we run according to it
so human, so humanly insane.

I will not quit,
the blaze of my glory,
which disappears in the skies slowly
nicotine is toxic, but not the entity of mine
the richness in its bitterness, the joy of sublime
Who thinks the smoke is pleasure?
begone fools! those who smoked at luxury
its for the one whose pain they treasure
and smoke the blaze of glory!

What's forever?
the end of time?
or just to say never and sublime,
emotions and hopes
to merely extend chokes
that are stuck as words
in our chest, which heard
the intersection of time and life
the meeting of joy and strife

Would forever mean, a few days which pass
Or does that flip too, along with the hour glass
Does time change, and does forever happen in time
is forever beautiful like a rhyme
or poetry which align
in the edge of my mind
which i shall write forever
Until forever i find
what i forever looked for

Life began in the universe, and
its maker made it grand
The garland of trees and flowers
were made together for each other
and so were humans too

The oceans were made to stay calm
and mix with each other
without a banter
as to who be strong
who be weak
who does hang along
and whose strength ******
and even in these peace came flood
which came to man's abode

But man was the same,
he too could stay calm,
and the next moment be alarm
and while ocean flooded waters
man flooded blood to the alters

And the maker made land,
for man to step
the maker gave humans the hand
to give and take, perhaps, cultivate
he hunted other made things,
but he never took a look down
there on the ground
and murdered the land
murdered each other
a brother killing another

And the maker, who made the universe so grand
sits up and maybe asks
Is it yet time for my wrath?

The grove we walked,
your hand in mine
nothing has changed in time
except the fact that when they'll be sun
you'd be looking at the moon then on

The grove shone, but not with sunshine
because it is gone, somewhere down the line
but what remains is the warmth,
you left in palms
is the sweetness of your subtle word that calms,
a weary heart that mourns

In this reminisces
it was the grove that shone
and this grove
i walk alone

If we are completely limited to the
mind, the body and are questioning whether
we have a soul than we cannot quietly tell the others
how we are, by what we are

But we can commune silently,
where everything vile is out
of the darkness within, or the vacant feelings
we feel. How are we, by what we be

Some exist while some just endure
very less live in the present,
and mos people rift in waves, drown
in the past or make dams for the future
for "Me, My and Mine"

How we are by where we live in the time frame
How I am, how are you?
If i am being me than so are you.
Are you me? Or me that you are is you
Our name's declined us of our commune. Otherwise,
How we are, is by how we become

Low low mountains,
watch them go
They stay so,
down with snow
as it piles on it
more and more
As i walk they change the angles
In chains of rocks and riverflow
Down goes the mountains
low and low

Mock me,
bury my face to the ground
take my existence down
where you bury me
with my shame
and hate me hard, in my name

Mock me,
in a gloomy morning
and darker nights
in stormy brooding
stop this heart so hollow
and ease this sorrow

Mock me
and morality,
and my belongings they may die
because they sprung out of vile thoughts
where no action could be caught
vividly, or decisive

Mock me,
and **** every
bone you envy
or hate, devastate
it and make me so lonely
and dont hear my dark bellows
leave me be in these
frozen hollows
and let me sleep
and after that
Mock me no more

I didnt lose
i had nothing to
i didnt believe i would
because nothing seemed to
Nothing! believes in me

Be it the Belief of everything
except that i dont exist
and everything in midst
I stand, but they say
i dont see the right way
but tell them
that way doesnt exist

No! neither does your God
neither does the abode
in which you live
not the people you believe
None! None! None!
I am alone
But then again i am not
I am here to rot
Oh! but i am not!
I dont exist
I am ceased
Since i wasnt deceased

But i dont exist!
I dont exist!

Ghastly lights of the lamp posts shine through pavements
And each steps burns the floor to engravement
as he drips drop by drop
the buses he takes, stop to stop
he bleeds and no one sees
he bleeds and no one believes

Watch his head he hung low
wayward to wayward he go
But what way was meant to walk though?
Stop by stop buses change
in his pockets are the crumbled change
his fare to the unknown
but forward he goes
forward he goes

Destiny,Fate?
and how hard is it?
it winds wield pity ,
with a jungle of concrete built
why havent i found
what ive been looking for?

In big and narrow spaces
in hugs and embraces
of my own and of strangers
why am i not bound
for what im hoping for?

And i see empathy on the mask
of the faces so dark
in coherence of my non-belonging self
and with might or pelf
of my won so called pride,
my emotions divide to see
and tell me
tenderly
what is it again that im looking for?

The winds were here,
a second ago they were swirling
The dazzled dance of the air
and in my hair it was whirling
And it left
it was gone
And i could not have kept
within my enclosed palms
because it was gone
opposite to the direction had it blown

Just like you, it gave me chills and went on
The winds are gone

The preacher said, "Bow down before the will of Him who has made you, he knows all, he is everywhere. He is always, he is after  and before."
The prophet said, "He will redeem you."
The alchemist said "By His will all your ailments be gone."
The poet asked "Where is HE?"
The man asked "Where was he when such befallen me?"
The woman asked " Why is my virginity for the giving of men i dont know?"
The philosopher said "I'll argue."
The doctor said, "Why couldnt i save?"
The survivor asked, "Why me?"
The dead were silent.
And the air whispered in their air, "Even He doesnt know"
Reason cried "He is not!"
But faith sobbed "Dont let me go."
And life simply scoffed "Do whatever."

It's the word and the sentences i put
to touch the tenderness that it should,
and blaze it must a fire in the heart
should separate the mind and soul apart

Hence, in that indifference will you see
just what you yourself can be.
For in zero existence you are merely
and merely
just human

Go, get it done
the one you want
to do things, they
said you cant
but they dont know
who to blame for
sure

Because they are guilty
you are not , to chase
dreams outside reality
They are insane
and are in vanity,
with their existence bane
but not you, you
are the same

Just go
dream and live
and believe
that this is a show
with no ticket-returns
a movie with no reruns
so make it to the big time
they'll go dim, my friend,
when you shall shine

It nothing but a debris
Under skies that die
and none is set free
as freedom is shy
and wont rebel for itself
it is so powerless
and sorry to say,
it is so less

And the love that runs down
the loves lips goes around,
in aimlessly in city streets
where it meets
the memory of all done
but that time is gone
and we start anew
even in that time comes the memory
and we love to the degree
we always do
but then again,
why is it so few?

Less, very less
so few in life,
all reckless
but tiresome, and the multitude
is so great the tune
becomes unheard
because all is so lacked
and fire is backed
which burns hope of more
as it always tore
the limits in dreams
but why so less,
so less it seems

I would drown the demons
in to the ocean
which seperates