What silences the voice of the voiceless? What does the flame of poverty destroy?
Questions for Life by Sushant Thapa
Sushant Thapa is a Nepalese poet who holds a Master’s degree in English Literature from Jawaharlal Nehru University, India. He is the author of the book “The Poetic Burden and Other Poems” published in New Delhi, India.
His English poems are featured in Trouvaille Review, litehouse exophonic magazine, International Times, New York Parrot, My Republica, The Kathmandu Post, Sahitto Bilingual Literary Magazine, Indian Periodical, Ponder Savant, Grey Thoughts, The Gorkha Times, The Piker Press, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Offline Thinker, Sahitya Post, Aksharang, Atunis Poetry, Kabita Minar, Suryodaya Literary Foundation, EKL Review and WILLIWASH. Sushant lives in Biratnagar, Nepal.
Questions for life
What language does imagination speak?
What belief does faith foster?
What is philosophy and abstraction?
What does the silence say?
Which smile does happiness cherish?
Which boat the river of life waits to sail?
Which answer questions the fate?
How is life fulfilled in its totality?
How real is the dream?
How blooms the garden of love?
What does the heart beat for?
What is death, without life?
How tears wash the pain?
What silences the voice of the voiceless?
What does the flame of poverty destroy?
What is greenery and richness?
How music tunes the balance of mind?
How does beginning and ending vary for all?
Being a Poet
Allow me to be the poet of the whispers
Before being a poet of the words.
Allow me to be the poet of the wave
Before glorifying the concrete world
Allow me be the poet of the wind
Before being the poet of touch.
Allow me to be the poet of the clouds
Before being the poet of the sky.
Allow me to be the poet of simplicity
Before being the poet of philosophy.
Allow me to be the poet of thirst
Before being the poet of satisfaction.
Time Does Not Die
Whiteness of the pigeon fluttering its wings freely,
Air kissing the flowers
This is the time of rejuvenation;
Where nature dances with its creation
We still haven’t lost the charm of the alluring nature.
Brighter days and calmer nights bring energy and rest.
Some lives are lost in hospital beds
Some lives are searched under the concrete debris
Modern war and disease has waged the destruction.
Destruction and beauty both have
Become the face of nature;
Destruction is the death of hope and
Beauty is the construct of hopeful ladder that we can climb onto
Destruction calls for peace process and nature calls for healing.
In our existence, books are burnt and bookstalls are destroyed
Children without education and blank mind
Will not be able to bring a new dawn of future
Let us realize that time cannot be killed
Although, clock towers can be destroyed!
I dreamt of the childhood
Looking at the playful tyre
Rolling down the road
The child mounted on a three-wheeler cart,
Children diving into a pond;
Take my youth away.
When the night was still
I received the tight dreams
Shaking me loose!
These days, I also dream that I might
Not be able to dream anymore.
Waking up to behold the night
Is my only excuse!
If dreams could be exchanged for childhood
I would become a child again.
The laughter of the child that echoes in the house,
The playful drama with childish props,
A bearded sage made out of clay,
Remain to visualize the dreams.