I borrowed 'Kira' to wear on 11th November, In 1996

                          Part-I

The bustled school campus; all the teachers and students assembled at the football ground. Teachers’  orderly distributed work, appointing a leader in each group; energetic boys sent to forest for collecting wooden pole, bigger girls were entrusted in decoration aspect and along with 30 students I was sent to bring white sand (in our dialect we call ‘Sakkar’) which is used to mark a line on the ground to make distinctive line for athletic's sight. It is three hours walk-able road  to and fro. We were made sure by teacher to return back within three hours which was a limited time, otherwise no lunch would be provided us as punitive. Led by house captains students were put in respective work field.  

It was to celebrate 11^th November, in 1996. In Bhutanese calendar, this particular day is exclusively recognized and celebrated as “The Birth Anniversary of fourth Druk Gyelpo Jigme Singye Wangchuck. 

It was left only 24 hours the next day (11th November) to come. Everything seems lively and everyone was preparing for the next day. Whereas me, my head was crushing thinking about ‘kira’, nothing I could think apart from getting ‘kira’ (Bhutanese National dress worn by female) which I must wear on cultural show next evening. For this I was desperately in needed a new kira.  Even my younger sisters needed too. Our father went to Diafam, it is a small town adjacent to Assam, India, where our villagers usually go there for shopping. It is tedious journey of two days. If my father won’t arrive home on time I have to look for other solution to get kira. We were made compulsory that dancer should wear nice kira. I was assured that I had no nice kira at home. With those sorts of thoughts creeping in my mind i was still on the way where I was sent to.  

I was alarmed from my thought when house captain called my name to be loaded. He lifted the sack and loaded on my back.With heavily loaded i started tottering - way back to school. Again i went back to previous thought in continuation; this time i come up with an idea “borrowing kira from my relative whose very closer to me”. By the time I was nearer to school when I knew I was still in the queue walking tirelessly, sweating and was fully exhausted. I lowered down my load (a bag of sand) and reported to teacher. There was still time left for lunch. Sun was in full shown and I took a rest under Nim tree shade to get myself cool.  Lunch bell rung and everybody made a queue with empty steel plate firmly grasped and waiting their turn to come. I didn’t take lunch thought I was starving long before. My appetite was lost and the very growling stomach has been filled by worries and frustration. My best friend asked me glancing at my weak face if I was sick. It was a nice hearing from her inquiring about my health.

I sacrificed lunch and went to relative’s house for borrowing a kira. It was only 15 minutes walk from the hostel where I stayed.

I knocked the door humbly;

“May I come in?” (I spoke in fumble)

Mathang (In-law-sister) – “yes, come in”. (her voice seems reluctant, probably she knew it was me)

I saw she was washing cloths. “Let me wash mathang, you can take rest”. By seeing her grimaced face I got a clue it wasn't a good day for me to ask about kira. Whatever might be there was no other person whom I felt convenient to ask for. i had left no choice rather decided asking her once.

“mathang can I borrow any of your kira for cultural show, tomorrow, only for an hour? I pleaded.

She said “No”, I don’t have lots of kira that can be borrowed to you. One which I have has to wear myself tomorrow on 11^th November”. Her answered was too short “No”.   

I was 15 and was studying in class five that time. I was very young enough to reiterate and exhort her after hearing her futility reply. I simply said “it’s okay” mathang. In fact I was woeful and saddened. I asked myself, if own relatives render no help than who will aid pitifully?

Part-II

with great expectation and hoped i begged for kira has been turn down. My heart filled with sadness and disappointed. In sober mind i tottered like a alcoholic man. On my way back, before i could reach hostel the bell rung signaling that everyone should be assemble at the ground for March past rehearsal. Over the past half month we have been practicing march past for the 11^th November celebration. I had no idea how school in urban areas celebrate this day but whereas in rural schools as I witnessed at my primary school, teachers with their enthusiastic and loyalty they painstakingly make schedule beforehand to remark this day cheerful and successful one. On this day all the people over vicinity; staffs from different offices and even villagers takes a day off from their tedious and nonstop work to witness this day. It was sure the ground will be crowded the next day.

I directly rushed to the ground and attended the march past. Rehearsal went well. The next step was to go to dance club which was also rehearsal. I was in the state of mind that I do not want to go there. I sat down on the footstep in front of the hostel in hopeless. I saw my best friend walking towards me. She said “Aro” (friend) you are called by teacher for dance rehearsal”. Without a word I followed her. If i denied her I would have got punishment because it was me who was leading other dancers. I was put in three songs to be danced. Zest for moving my body has become vulnerable. I was feeling dizziness and faintness, it might be because i being in saddened or due to starving stomach. Somehow I managed to do my part well.

Now, school’s hectic work has been completed. Everything was made ready for tomorrow’s program. Every students were moving home.  

But my personal problem hasn’t solved yet. Where to get kira? Will my father arrive today evening? Constantly these two questions was being piercing my mind. All I could do was sitting and waiting for father and praying god to bring father back home safely in the evening.   

In the morning assembly, Headmaster had precisely announced that the hostelers who all are nearby school can go home and was asked to bring necessary things for tomorrow’s program.

Part-III

On that evening I went home with a great expectation that my father would have arrived home by now. It took 30 minutes to reach home. Normally the distance between my village and school takes almost one hour.

Seeing the door ajar, I believed both father and mother would be in the home. This very thought brought me alive from my current tension. Quietly I stepped in and slammed the door gently without my parent’s knowledge. When I got inside it was only mother, seated near the hearth, grooming firewood and readying to lit fire. She was just come home from daily field work. However, seeing my mother has alleviated my tension. She looked at me and we broke into smile. Before i could ask, mother said “father hasn’t come yet”.  I was nearly stunned hearing her assertive phrases because my mother did not know in what situation i was in. Nonetheless, I remained calm only to let my mother be calmed.     

I helped her preparing diner. Dinner was made ready but we waited father till 10pm to have dinner together. There was no sign for his arriving. After starving for so long we finally had dinner. We ate bokpi and chilli curry which is our everyday meals. Sometimes we take Thukpa (porridge). As I haven’t taken lunch I ate heavy dinner that night . My stomach was fully packed but I could still feel it’s emptier.    

Like always night, the remote and solitary village is overwhelmed by the darkness of the night. Night is the only few hours that the villagers gets free time to take rests from their daily manual and unfinished work, whether it’s raining or sunning day they work incessantly. This is the way of life that the villagers are dwelling in which is inexperienced or unseen by people who are dwelling in town. By this time every people must be taken rest to bed. My mother and younger siblings were already fallen asleep. I was kept awake not by noise pollution but the circumstances I mentioned earlier.           

It was half past 1Am and the new day begun for “11^th November”. Palpitation of my heart increases with the time passes closer. I stood nearby window, leaning my head at the window edge and looked out through it. The moon was in half shown that the moonlight was dimmer to see houses precisely or that could visualize night wanders in the darkness. Cold breeze was gently blowing and the sound of prayer flags could be heard which it beckons me of recitation “Badza Guru”. Instantly my heart arose cold and my eyes were moisturized with tears and it dripped over my cheeks.  I sobbed silently..

 

“Zamin” (daughter) my mother called. I knew she too wasn’t fallen into sleep.  

“Yes, Ama”

“Take nap, u haven't slept entire night, you will fall sick”.

"Its okay, Ama, I will stay till father comes"

“Your father might be on the way; walking through out the night”

“You are right Ama, he must be exhausted”

“Did you ask anybody?”

“What are you talking about, Ama?”

“About kira”,

“Who told you?”

“Your sister told me you need kira for the cultural show tomorrow evening. Why didn’t you tell me before? I would have asked from our neighbors”.

“Yes, I'm in needed. You have lots of work to do so I didn’t pressurize you”

“If you have asked to Mathang she would have given you her kira”.

“I did”

“Then what happened”

“She said ‘No’”

As soon as she heard the word 'no' she looks saddened and expressed her feelings ruefully.

“When she becomes mother of more children, when she becomes a grandparent of her own sons's and daughters's children, and when she will see her own children in difficult situation only than she will realize our today's suffering that we are going through. Your father’s parents died when he was young and I didn't get a chance to look after them. Today I wished their souls live in peace”.

When you are grown up, you will not be single; you will become wife of your husband and in-law-daughter of his parents. Give the same respect and feelings that you have for us. Your husband’s parents are your parents”. My mother said. 

How beautifully she spoke with meaningful sentences. She often used to tell us that not to differentiate between in-law-parents from own parents. I didn't know what makes her to says, especially this things again and again…Today I’ m grown up and realize her moral advised that why she has spoken invariably. Her words has got  that much potential even to let forgot my worries for awhile.  

Part-IV 

  
Cocks and hens made a chirping sound, letting the farmers’ wake up from a sound sleep. I was still awake and my mother didn’t get a chance to wake me up that morning. In other days usually she has to provoke me for waking up every morning. I used to be the last person to wake up late in the family.

It was around morning 3am when I finally heard a knock at the door. I had no patience to wait and see who it was; I suddenly got up, stumbled at the door and unlashed it. “‘Yes’ it was father”; his untidy shirt was still dripping wet, face moisture with perspiration and he looks feeble. I introspect how fast he would have walked that night without even taken a nap. My mother already waked up and was preparing some food for father. Seeing him tiresome I could not dare ask him whether he brought kira or not. My mind was still whirling of tension.

Outside it was still dark. I must reach school earlier before sun rises as I was assigned some responsibility for the program. I told my parents that it was time for me to move to school’. Until then my father utter words ‘wait for sisters in the school’. Hearing his words I comprehend that he has got something for me. For that something I was waiting for the whole night and dreaming of it.  

As I stepped into the school gate the school campus looked seemingly different; the liveliest campus and fragrance of happiest. And all of my friends seemed hyperactive of enthusiastic, made self looked beautiful and elegant. Smile could be sensed on everyone’s face. How happy they appeared.

Few minutes left for assemble for the ground. My sisters have not yet come. I was worried if they be late. I stood at the veranda waiting for them. This waiting offers me a breathtaking panorama of the campus. The football ground was beautifully decorated with buntings, flags and white marked lines. Thrilled in me could be felt giving me a solace for awhile. I got lost in imagination.  

“Ana..ana….we are here…..” they were gasping.

“Come in …..Hurry up, hurry up, we are getting late” 

“Today i m very…very…happy….” One of my sisters said

“You must be, for now shut up and get ready first”

She was overwhelmed with excitement and continued expressing her happiness “We got new cloths after couple of years back…this could be the happiest moment that I ever had felt before…” I could see happiness in her bulging eyes. It was happy to see them happy. I dressed them up, comb hair neatly and ushered them to go to the ground.

I made ready myself and rushed for the ground. Delirious of joy could feel in me on that day as I was in new school uniform. But still there was unsolved things left about ‘borrowing kira’. It was to wear on cultural show in the evening after the day program was over. On every 11^th November our school used to conducts cultural show to the people and staffs by which accumulate some money for the school fund.  

Now the day was about to beginning. The ground was circled by crowed audience. Staffs from other Department office were invited as a chief-guest for the program. The fourth King’s portrait is kept before us. Headmaster hoisted the National flag along with we sung the National Anthem in choir. After that welcome speech was given and we did march pass.   

The most entertainment part of the day's program was sport competition. My house captain has put my name for eight various games. i pleaded him to cut my name from high-jump and long-jump lists. During that time these two games were new to us and more over girls would feel shy to take part in. girls in remote is typical coz we used to argue with house captain for refusing to play games. Captain did not listen for my pleading; however, I had to participate in all eight games. Out of which i got 7 prices; first price was steel plate, second steel cup and third two pencils. I received 6 steel plates for first prize and one steel cup for third prize. Those prices are no worthless as it was a gift from me for my parents. I brought a grinned on my mother’s face that day. How thankful we feel ourselves to see our parents smile. In contrary, a wealthier people may seem such a steel place is worthless but whereas the peasants like us who inhabits in the remote place who are depriving from congenial city lives are hardly afford to buy even this cheaply things. Hoped I’m not offending anyone by confessing what is truth in life. If affluent person will touches the earthly life of peasants then only one could comprehend afflicts that farmers are bogged down with. 

One of my mother’s relative asked for a steel plate ( prize i got ). My mother calmly gave one plate to her with no reluctant or with no heart of saying ‘no’. When I was young I was good in games but now after stepping into adulthood it was totally opposite. I become idle and clumsy, especially athletic area. Despite the tension I had, I found the day was interesting. I now considered that day as a monument that I will cherish in the time when I feel desolate and dreary.

The ‘11^th November’ celebration ended with ‘TASHI LAKBAY’ song.

Now it was time for the evening program to start the cultural show. It was to start after having dinner. Within half an hour I must get ready for the welcome dance. Other participants were getting ready; my friends were looking awesome in new cloths but this time not in school uniform. They were in casual kira.   

For me I haven’t got kira and the time was moving very fast. If I wore school uniform it would have looked awkward. In saddened I retrieved of yesterday why mathang had not let me borrow her kira. I was certain that she knows how to loam kira and has a number of cloths. My elder brother came running and asked whether I got kira or not. ‘No’ was only i could utter apparently. I wasn’t in a state to talk more. He suggested me to borrow from mathang which I did yesterday and was being disappointed. He was shocked and furious because he knew that she had given her kira to another student, a friend of mine. I wasn’t against her refusal. I convinced him. My brother cried hearing my despaired feelings. I tried acting bold in front of him but could not hold my tears.

Part-V

My brother went back to his hostel. I stayed on the footstep, filled with sad and despair emotions. An acquainted friend who's from another village, came and seated on the left side to me where I was sitting. We never had a talk before though we were studying in the same school. However, we have exchanged a smile whenever our eyes get fixed to one another. She used to be a simple girl in the school.

This little known friend had finally pacified my two days endured worries about ‘kira’. She has two kiras which one gave to me. The kira was big enough, double the size of my height and body as it was her mother’s kira. I double folded the kira and wore. Fortunately I was thin that time and that’s why, in school, one of my teachers used to say ‘you don’t stand in the wind, otherwise, vigorous of the wind might blow you away”, he also nicknamed me as ‘Dry Fish”. Having those memories freshly in my memory I vividly can visualize my teacher’s amusing talks.

By the time, all the audience had taken seat. Audience had seated not in a chair or on a bench or on the carpet but on the earth surface as their mattress.  Teachers and participants were reported at the tent. I was going toward tent. I could see people hastily moving here and there, might be in search of what they need. At the time, I was a person with no worries anymore because I got what I have been desperately needed for.  I reached there exactly at right time when welcome dancers were called on stage to greet the audience through our welcome song. We did welcome dance and then other lists of programs followed one after another. 

For a moment, on that night, the remote school and the peasant audience had an eventful night. Shouting voice of enthusiasms, parents sobbed in children’s glory and screamed of innocent child could spill from the audience. Whoever presents there could feel the night filled with enjoyment and thrilling. In such occasion and during village festivals, the tranquil and ever solitary village seldom turns into animate.

Everything was over; the day’s activities and the night cultural show. ‘I returned back the kira to her with wholeheartedly thanking her’.

When everything was over the time was already around 11pm. All the people over there were moving home. I had to look for my mother since my father did not come for show. My mother took a little alcohol that night with her relatives having being met after many months. I pushed myself through the crowed, eyeing for mother. She was nowhere to be found. I dreaded as she was little drunk. I immediately thought of my relative ‘mathang’ if she would have taken her at her place. I forged toward her place. My anticipation proofed true. My mother was cautiously taken cared by her.

As soon as I saw her with my mother, a strange thought crept in my mind. “She did not land me her kira the previous day but the very night I saw her caring mother. That’s a great thing I knew about her. My negative thoughts and distrusts about her melted away having seen her current action. Every soul in this world is never born badly”. I thought.   

The particular day, 11^th November, 1996 has bidden adieu. Within these two days there were many things happened which rendered me a lesson like every day things happening to us.

The End 

     

moon

How sad sky must be feeling

when cloud overtakes,

veiled seeing the earth    

How happy sun must be feeling

when no cloud appears to block his way

for sparkling on an indigent souls

in the very samsaric world  

How despair we feel

when a rays of hope

dissolve in the darken cloud

when no sun brings grin on dingiest face

Oh! The Lord Guru

I believe you’re omnipresent

I bend at your feet

with pray-

Let the moon always shines   

in the terrible and greediest night,

glisten the darken cloud

into blue skies,

bring smile on sufferers face

at least by the torch of moon

to walk ahead

through hell of darkness

to the heavenly abode

Parents are our Soothing Rhythm

Image from Google

Leaving our parents

for a stranger

who later becomes our soul-mate

so-called “husband or wife or lover”

All of a sudden

he/she means a world to us

then we become busy like bees life

losing ourselves in love world

like bee engrosses into honey

as the time adds for an hours                   

and the months adds for years

love sometimes doesn't go well  

when our lover leaves us alone 

who was once everything to us

becomes a great sources for sorrows  

it’s an amazing thing we experience

when we are child

we pester our parents

and cry loudly and shamelessly for

‘a toy we love’

but in the adulthood

when we are grown up

we cry silently for losing ‘a person we love’

and letting him or her go where wishes to-

 

we become alone -'single' 

when by the time everything around us

would be seems different

life we had in the childhood is no same

in this single life-

How sad it is of

retrieving the past life

we go away from parents for searching happiness

but we return back to parents

with torn life-

heart wounded with sorrows-

despaired hopes- 

disillusion for trust and faith

we had for someone

now along with us

we bring worries even

in parents lives
making their lives miserable 

After then

once again we become a child

to our parents

who measurelessly loves and cares us

like before with no changes

even after everything collapse

Who we left for our own happiness

becomes ‘soothing rhythm’ (parents)

of our own sorrows and dismay we possess 

in later life

Thus,

i define love we get from our parents is non-fiction

and love we get from our life-partner is

sometimes fiction - 

Judgement is left to my readers 
to believe it or not 
if parents are lovable than lovers
or lovers are lovable than parents 

Three of us, me and my two friends always walk home on foot after the class. Walking has become our everyday routine. To pass the time we do chitchat while tottering along the road side until we arrive home. In fact gossiping and to chitchat is a common activity for every human being and so we do the same.  But we normally talk about our younger days and where our future would be landed up in next few years. We exchange our views and opinions each other but not about others criticism. Thus, we become aware of what is like and dislike of anther person and through this three of us become an intimate friendship like a sister to one parents. The strongest weapon for which needed in mending friendship is to share a certain feelings and to have patience in understanding others inconvenience. If you be optimistic you will woo the friendship. This is what I believe. To condense my blathering and to not waste your precious time in reading this let me directly yank to the next theme.

It was on Wednesday. Weather was too harsh, scorching our face into reddish skin. When we were strolling my friend unintentionally blew a whistle. Immediately another one started mimicking her.  By seeing them whistling I was thrown to nostalgia of my days at village. I intervened their whistling by telling whistling is a belief that my native people practice. When I was a child I accompanied with my mother in the field for helping. While she was filtering barley from other unwanted things she often whistled. I wondered and asked, why she was whistling frequently. She said that she was calling the wind to exorcise dust from barley. I can vividly visualize how aesthetically she used to whistle. After hearing me they were amazed as their native too has the same belief. We looked at each other in grinned. 

We were completely engrossed in whistling, imitating each other and laughing crazily. Instead of being vigilant in watching out we were lost in relishing. Suddenly my friend screamed “see eagle” it is coming to us”. When I twisted my neck to glance at it, yes she was right. I could see its silhouette, wings widely stretches, flying in the sky heading towards us. We had no idea what it was aiming for. It directly flew just over our head and we all were in terrible thought if it could pierce on our coward but the foremost brain. I defense head with my two hands. When I looked at them they too veiled their head with the college bags. We were scared to eagle. It hovered just above us and whirled for transience.

I held my head up and watched where it will fly over. Perhaps eagle might have visualized us bigger than it so it has left us. I was wondering where it would hovers next. It suddenly descends and with its beak attempted to catch a dog which was innocently sniffing into the bushes for scavenging. Even that dog was bigger than its size. When I was young I heard that eagle hunts for hens and cocks as their food but not the dogs. May be eagle must be in starvation and might has seen dog smaller enough to catch for food. There were some other dogs nearby but it attempted at the smaller one. it was unfortunate day for eagle as it could not hold a grip on dog and it must be heavier than eagle's own weight, so the eagle lost its prey. On that day the dog was supposed to be victim but was lucky enough to stay alive. In yelped dog ran away as fast as it could hide itself from the eagle's sight. My friends were laughing seeing the dog frightened.

It was contrasting scenery that someone could think beyond our imagination; Dog scavenging on garbage that something to eat, and the eagle tirelessly flying over in the vast skies, wandering and hungrily longing for food. Finally the eagle went back with a stalk.

We were actually whistling to call the wind but instead the eagle loomed before us without our knowledge or anticipation. This is terrible and amazing things to happen and see.

My request to you all is while you are walking, stop for a while and sense the beauty of nature. Look and observe what’s happening around. You will see the cycle of life in the world and that is your education for better enlightenment of life.

The earth is beautiful but our impure thoughts and minds visualize it as ugly.

A miracle sheep

The night was terrible and icy cold as it was covered in a thick blanket of fog. The area was covered in dense jungle. From nowhere I found myself standing in the middle of the dense forest, so quivering. I turned to left side; I could hardly see a very old bridge, nearby, there are group of lad, holding each bottle alcohol in their hands and were cracking so much of noise. Their eco sound could be heard as if sounding far behind the mountain.  Most probably they must be a night wanderers. Seeing their indecent behavior I was frighten. Then, I turned behind when I saw I was being followed by a flock of dogs and their owners. Perhaps they were hunters. The dogs seemed malicious and might gnaw me bitterly. In fact, I thought how dreadful moment it was being in an inescapable situation. I thought i was a dead meat that night. The dog’s owners were giants with black complexion. Seeing their appearance seemed like one would get faint in scare. 

At opposite direction, may be five minutes walk from where I was standing, I could see as if like a cone shape of rock, poising just before me. I became vigilant, identifying what actually it could be. When I was visualizing the image i heard a mellifluous water flow. The urgency of soothing sound and an image galvanized me into action to move forward to see that rock like a cone shape. But I couldn’t move even a step forward as those strangers were coming closer to me. I was plunged in trapped. A few minutes later, I heard a soft voice;

“Be calm”

I wondered, my eyes widened in search whose voice that could be. Observing the situation I could have no expectation if anyone could help me get out of this.  

Second time I heard the same voice.

“I m here nearby you, look down”

As I looked down I found a white sheep, very adorable one. No human was there who can speak.

The third time I heard the voice again;

“Do not be scared I m with you”

I actually felt someone was with me, embracing and defending me from dangerous. I introspect, who was that miracle?

I looked at the gangs they were still sipping and yelling at me. Then I looked behind while i saw the dogs and men had stopped tottering. However they were nearer to me.

As i slowly bent down and patted on sheep I heard a voice was whispering inside the sheep, absolutely not human. It genuinely was incredible creature. Really it was amazing one. I moved closer to sheep and listened carefully. I sensed it was a miracle voice of the sheep’s only.  

While I was listening to him I took a glance at that image. By that time fogy had given a way to a brighter vision. I saw a chorten (Buddhist shrine/sacred relics) and stream, gently flowing down through the dense forest. How lively it was to see an image like a cone shape was actually the chorten.

“Look, a guy is coming from opposite direction to abduct you”, sheep whispered.

I observed stranger was coming closer; so, i plead him to help me before he could get me. In anyways he seems no reluctant in helping me. He was readiness to do anything I would ask.

“Close you’re eyes and think about me”

 I did exactly what he said to me. May be after five minutes later when I opened my eyes I found I was still laying on bed. By the time, the dawn had been already set forth and my room was lightening with sun’s rays. It was time for me to wake up for morning ablution.

I realize it was just a dream, perhaps a nightmare, not in reality. 

Indeed, I will miss the dream, especially a miracle sheep.  

pain can't be seen 

I'm mentally wilt 
but 
i behave physically 
strong,
is only 
  to 
strengthen  
another's 
heart.
  

Juvenile

Once there was a time

When I envied my elder sisters

Who were grown up; elegantly!

I envied nothing but to

Grow like them; quick and elegant,

And, halt when I am grown enough

To remain juvenile ever;

Wishing no death to take me away  

From the motherly abode!

Hanging from my mother’s close hand

As if I feared eagles’ snatch,

Away from her, mother’s care!

I trudged across bridges

To school; I was enrolled then,

To read books, experience school life;

Give every exam

And get passed;

By then I was in adulthood.

Today, everywhere I go

I hear people asking each other’s ‘age’

They ask my age too!

Blatantly!

Against what I had wished—

To be ‘juvenile’ forever—

I realize I’ve become a sister my own,

Of my younger sisters!

It’s amazing to sit and watch—

The passing life—

That moves so gentle like rivers’ flow

And the sun that rises only to set;

Age passes, adding wrinkles

To a laughing face

In his journey from

Womb to tomb;

Palace of birth to inferno of death!

Now,

I wish no one asks me how old I am!

As all existing souls grow old and die,

No fetus remains fetus forever;

No wishes hold true to truths;

Once pushed out of womb,

You are destined to keep walking

And when your legs twist you

You are destined to stop—

Like it or not—

Near the graveyard,

Your indestructible home!