Biranchi poydyal

Culture create system and system controls us. We should be conscious , under whose system are  we living?   who is controlling us and our choices   ?     C ultural imperialism   force people   from ethnic culture to defame their own values. A kind of organized system(fashion) is created to accelerate the attitude of self-hate among people of  independent cultural or ethnic group.   Sometime we tend to ignore that our lifestyle and even mind frame is mostly being   guided by imperialistic  culture.        The European influence have altered the way we see ourselves and has undervalued those , what were and are “ours”.   For instance ; Our sense of attraction is guided by European precautions(6ft tall, white, slim/ muscular), their fashion has become our passion (clothes), and we use their psychological unit to measure our standard of living. This manipulation that begin with modern f...

भिन्नता कहाँनेर देख्छौ तिमि ? तिम्रो र मेरो माथिको आकाश एउटै छ कुन सिमानाले हामीलाई आलग बनायो ? तिमीलाई र मलाई छोएर जाने हावा एउटै छ कुन रातमा आंखा चिम्ली निदाउछौ तिमि ? तिमीलाई र मलाई उठाउने बिहानी एउटै छ कुन फुलको बास्ना मग्मगाउछ तिम्रो आँगनमा ? तिम्रो र मेरो सुगन्धको आनुभव एउटै छ कुन धर्तिको कोखबाट जन्म लीयौ तिमीले तिम्रो र मेरो शारीरमा बग्ने रगत एउटै छ प्रगतिको कुन शिखरमा पाइला राख्यौ तिमीले ? तिमि र म पुग्नुपर्न गन्तब्य एउटै छ तिमि र म पुग्नुपर्न गन्तब्य एउटै छ |

“There is never Nothing happening”. Earth completes its rotation in 24 hours, passing through Mars, Jupiter and other planet it finally comes to the same beginning. Every day it moves to change the day, months and seasons. The buds of summer gets touch of autumn fall which broods it to blossom in spring; again it fades down until the earth move to invite summer. These phase of flower also cliché that something is happening. But we people sit alone in our lousy room and think nothing is happening, nothing has changed. We often feel nothingness, emptiness around us because we never try to accept the reality that something is happening. It was a fine summer morning when I woke up with humming birds around my windows and the eastern sky lends some rays to my abode. That chattering sound of birds tends to destroy slumber by enlightening mind with full of unrecognized rhymes, filling some kind of pleasure in my unconscious. This pleasure gives rise to the feeling of hope, e...

विदेशबाट चिठी आयो कलि बुडीको छोराले बीरगति प्राप्त गर्यो रे, यो खबर सुनेर बुडी रुना थालिन् आँखाबाट खसेका मोतिझै आँसु धर्तिमाताको कोखमा सेलाए, निमेषभरमै रापिलो घामले आँसुलाई बाफ बनाई उडायो माथि आकासमा अरु पनि धेरै आँसुका बादल थीए सबै ठोकिए एकआपसमा अनि ठुलो पनि पर्यो आमाको आँसुले, बडी ल्यायो घर बगायो तर बिद्रोहको आगो निभाउन सकेन |

M isfortune never comes singly. The shrouds of fine grey dust covering everything and everyone. Buildings shredded into splinters, streets flooded with carpets of glass, wood, metal and what could be human remains. In desolation, Dibash’s house standing alone like a Twin Tower relic after of 9/11 attack. Out of the blue another big quack turn up to complete ongoing series of recurring aftershock . A queer of uncomfortable perplexity began to invade him. His heart aches feeling numbness pain like hemlock flowing in his vein. Plagued by agreeable hallucinations he plunged into deep slumber in timeless world.  Next day fluting of sparrows salvaged Dibash from the dreadful nightmare and   his consciousness awakened   to behold a good day standing distinct under the sky. A melancholic symphonic pleasure beat on his heart, slowly he step down to green carpet holding himself straight. He went upstairs to inhale the fresh air of Sundarijal. He could sense disaster br...