Biswasdip Tigela
 |
| Poet Biswasdip Tigela |
Here, in a foreign soil
reveries strike
bringing in mind homeland and friends
sending tears down the eyes!
Going back is no good either
friends, turned strangers now
shall, with their strange ways,
send tears flowing down the eyes,
once again.
What should I do now:
stay away or turn homeward,
could anyone tell?
Where do I belong—
on this bank, or that?
On this shore, or that?
Those on this shore say,
I belong to the bank across;
those on that side allege
I belong to this shore.
To this group, an out caste I am;
to that group, an alien I am—
a real untouchable I am rendered
far from this end
and farther away from the other!
Who will listen
to the tales of my mind
filled with pains and blots of sorrows?
Whom should I share now
the memories of my juvenile days,
and accounts of life, far away?
Was it a fault
that I came afar, leaving my motherland?
Or, was it wrong to recall
friends and playmates of boyhood days?
These are questions
I have been asking myself
of late,
always; all the time.
Translated from Nepali by Mahesh Paudyal
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