ENOUGH

The frozen message in the eyes of a goat at the butcher’s

The rain drops on the beak of a dead bird

The cry of a half fed baby in a brothel

The veiled wail of a martyr’s young half

The fear in the eyes of a girl of the cruel stares

And the dangerous snares

The wait in the eyes of the bedridden

And the baby at the door for the working mother

Song of the blind by the sidewalk

The sad tale of a printed mishap on passengers' lap

The mystery of a sudden exit

The lewd, inviting gestures of a housewife whose husband slogs day and night

The bruises of domestic violence 

And her smoky, choking chores

The complacent smile of a lauded poet

The greedy hospitality of a desperate sycophant

The pathetic servility of a hapless labourer

The empty verbal revolutions

There is nothing sadder than the face of a grazing cow

I can’t bear it any more

Enough is enough

--by Santhosh Kumar Kana

MAHATMA

A Mahtama is not born in the bookshelves

Nor among sartorial luxuries 

A Mahatma is born when the pain on the trampled body feels millions

When the beast within bows down in defeat

When a trodden path is walked upon with unseen awareness

A Mahatma contains millions of atma within

It is one pulse

A Mahatma bears the brunt of a million blows

feels the heat of a million tears

and sheds them for millions

A Mahatma knows the way within in one step

A Mahatma is a fragrance you can’t resist

A mirror you can’t break

A Mahatma is called back when the halo begins to wane

A Mahatma sees through you with compassionate eyes

Your title “Mahatma” is a mere garland.

-by Santhosh Kumar Kana

for YOU in desperation-Durbar Marg, Kathmandu

Really unbearable

There’s a bird within flapping its wings

Messages and calls falling feathers

Once all fallen

Still there would be a chirrup, a croon, a whimper or a whisper

Then nothing

Then no more

Till then bear with me.

I remember your messages and missed calls blinking on my screen like the night flight.

How my screen used to be cleansed by your words!

And you became my conscience!!

I feel you like a rustle in the trees, the drizzle hits me like your hair

The deepest conversations are only with utmost physical proximity!

Want you badly, to be on you like a creeper, like the serpentine trails on the hills.

We were like childhood playmates
We plucked flowers, chased dragonflies,
rubbed the sap of a leaf on our eyelashes,
jumped over thorny fences,
stood panting lost in the brightness of each other's eyes,
We could read the poetry of life despite its prosaic relalities,
We hugged each other in immense joy....innocence intact..


You stabbed my creativity out, I love it… your brutish love

My creative bleeding

Oh! How much you take out of me!!!

Each visit of yours was a stab

You left me without a word

Though painful,

Let me go like this….

Let us go like this with many “unsaid”s

It leaves a pain and a discontent to live

It leaves something to live for

Don’t make it so clear and plain

Let the abstract and the waited remain

It gives some dream moments that we never could

Let it be its poetry

With an eloquent silence and an abundant emptiness!!!!  

 --by Santhosh Kumar Kana

Journey back in time:The Himalayan Times(Foodspies)

My review published in the English newspaper from Nepal, The Himalayan Times:
http://www.epaper.thehimalayantimes.com/PUBLICATIONS/THT/THT/2012/08/02/ArticleHtmls/Journey-back-in-time-02082012015003.shtml?Mode=1

Published on August 2nd, 2012