| EkChhin
: MS-Nepal Newsletter 2003 Issue 1 |
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Dry
Goes My Heart...
Jhamak
Kumari Ghimire, 20, is physically handicapped. She is dumb and
paralysed. Her right leg and both her hands are dysfunctional. So
going to school is out of question for her. She is the eldest
among five children of her poor parents who live in a remote
village in Dhankuta district in Eastern Nepal. The only way to
communicate with her is to scribble the message on a piece of
paper so that she can read it. She has already established herself
as a promising poetess of the country who has a number of books to
her credit: all written with her left foot. Strange it is to note
that her writing is the outcome of what she has learned
informally. Her astounding literary sense and writings are
testimony to the fact that she is well ahead in the race of one’s
abilities.
The
struggle of Jhamak Kumari has a message for us all to ponder over
what indeed is the meaning of life. To a question ‘what is life?’
Jhamak jots down these words: “Life is a bed of fire.” Her own
arduous struggle is the source for her to put her feelings into
words. It is against this backdrop that she has written the poems.
Acknowledging her exclusive prowess in the literary field, she has
been recognized with various awards of national status.
Jhamak
has been a source of inspiration for the disabled and the general
public as well in that commitment and hard work lead to success.
Disabled though she is, Jhamak has firmly set up a notion that the
essence of being a human being lies not in the body but in the
brain.
The
two poems used here have been translated into English from Nepali
to simply help readers have an insight into the fertile brain of
Jhamak.
Dry Goes My Heart
With innumerable wishes,
Death ! I befriend you.
Perpetual feelings within
This impoverished chamber,
Surviving I am suffocated.
Now I give no importance
Tying or not any relation
With the bankrupt society.
Nasty, I bring not into present
The dirty past.
Upon seeing those fields
And trees and cracked valleys
Sans water,
Dry goes my heart,
In utter bitterness I feel like crying.
But, but
Tears rolling down the eyes
Are prevented by this
Drought torn heart,
Saluting them.
Fear I
Obnoxious past like water drops
Will trickle down like water
And mix into the present.
Terror like a serpent
Fear I will come and bite me!
How meaningless are
Pangs of my heart!
Frozen are my aimless wishes
With morning biting frost.
I feel like dying
A heroic death
From the cemetery
I wish to born as a witch
To scratch my ugly past.
I further wish to agonize my heart
Forced dry by the drought.
Pains of the heart
Did not agonize me enough
Mountains of wishes eroded
But my present did not ache
I no more wish to agonize it any more
My past underwent many pain
I don’t want to ache my present.
Drought forced this heart
With innumerable wishes,
Death ! I befriend you.
Perpetual feeling within
This quite bankrupted room,
Surviving I am suffocated.
Foundation
In the era of modernity
Norms and values are forgotten
With the losing values
The bleak era looks gloomy
Where should the value of
Values be sought?
And where to look for the
Fading footmarks of the ideals?
Piled within the garbage
container
Are idealism and values
Dignity and respects
Have been for sale
Lost is here
The very foundation of values.
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