By Phulman Bal

Kantipuri,
Oh my beloved
Open your eyes
I have come
With red roses in my hands

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Forgotten since ages
I, crazed, lovelorn
Have come
To place these love-flowers
On your loosened hair

**** *****

Perhaps,
You’ve forgotten those days
When
You were adorned
In clothes I weaved
And your virgin beauty smiled
In the ornaments I studded
You sun-bathed lying
On the ancient courtyard that I laid for you
It was I who sketched
Your oil paint portrait in your boudoir
It was I who carved love images
On the ivory cupboards
Do you remember
Those formless shadows
That appeared north of your boudoir every evening?
That which you thought the soul of a white khyak – spirit
Was I
The rustling sound you heard
Was of my feet.

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Kantipuri,
Oh my beloved
I have many complaints
Who erected those white palaces on your breast
That you consider your identity?
Who engraved the crown as tall as temples and steeples on your hair
That you consider your pride?
Who decorated
Your beautiful garden
Where, rambling in the mornings and evenings
You lost yourself?
And who built the ancient stone-water-spout
Where, giggling with maids and friends
You washed your youth?

********* ***********

Yes Kantipuri,
O My beloved,
Entangled am I this moment
In the thicket of complaints upon complaints
Many a night,
Have I approached the golden door of your boudoir
To return without knocking on it
And when your cherished one
With drama of love
Continuously squeezed you
Many a time have I
Withdrawn my hand empty
From the khukuri sheath hanging on my hip
One day, lost in the rainbow of your intoxicating eyes
The tray fell on the floor
And with the ineradicable marks of the lash
Was I chased away.

****** *********

Tell me Kantipuri,
O my beloved.
Whose sweat has flowed on the walls of your palace?
Whose pain is engraved in the beam supports and taps of temples?
There, do I still hear the tunes of life flowing
And restless images of pain do I see swirling
While you went for drives in the vehicle
We, without being paid,
Carried on our shoulders from Bhimphedi
You enjoyed the cool breeze of the yak tail flipper
That we knitted till the blood boiled in our fingers
I used to sweep away the dung of your horse
And spend sleepless nights inside the stable
Many a time have I sprained my legs
While climbing Sanga Bhanjyang with a load of mangos for you

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Kantipuri,
O my beloved!
Ripping apart the veil of long sleep
I’ve awoken after an age
You were also asleep!
In a long sleep of delusion
Awake now.
Recognize and fold me in your embrace
To rub rose water
On your lethargic spine
Have I come.

******** *************

Now see.
The crimson rising in the East
Perhaps, from the coupling of earth and sky
A new morning is being born
And this morning will create
A new city
Such a city
Where
I shall love you without fear
And make you mine forever
Because
You’re always mine.