How I wish I were born in your generation…

‘How I wish I were born in your generation…

Raised adjacent to the muddy lands of Khotang,

Heightened along with the pains of life

How I wish I were born in your generation…

I was amused by the fun of stones and mud

Certainly, further life was a drill in a gloomy corner

Shrubbing the dishes and beating the clothes

I saw the boys holding their bags and heading out to school

My heart was captured with the desire to study and get a job

Such a moment was it,

“arka ko bhitto dalney jaat, chori ko k padhnu parcha!”

My voice still shivered to speak

They never let me hold it

They never let me own it

Now, when I turn behind to a tiny version of me

There begins a flood of thoughts

How I could have excelled the education

How I could have pasted it for a raise

How could I have dug the words

Not an assumption,

I still hear the echo of claps

To the way I master whatever I grasp

Learnt ‘Geeta’ at a diligent age,

It's a pride that my mind still draws those pages well

What an era was it,

I owned the life, they lived it

I hike the situation, they made it

It was my own feet to walk those miles,

Now,

I realize it was all perception that made the journey twice

Held the hand of an unknown man

When I begged them to wait till the age

Something I never wished for yet known about,

Gloomed throughout the journey

I colored the darkest colors to shine them bright

As his second wife at the age of 10

I was abandoned to vocalizing

I was rooted in household work beginning before sunrise,

Sasuama swayed with distasteful treatment

And inferior scolding for my mistakes of millimeters

I spent my 2 years overlapping my pains

My deep frustration was shelled forever

My voice was drowned in the deepness forever

Who knew the dense deepness awaited,

I lost my husband at the age of 14

Along with other wives, I got detached from the family

I only did not have any kids to accompany

I Supported my “Sauta” in our indifferent journey

Lonely from the start point of my path

I packed my bags to depart to my “maita”

No way they accepted me

I spent some years with tears

Headed to Kathmandu with my other relatives,

I cooked and eat on my own

Not even with my in-laws

Not even with my own

Loneliness suffered with old age

Impossible independence overlapped me within this “briddhashram”.

….

Being old, I comprehend the importance of family

I discern that a family would have covered my loneliness

Seeing others smile out of their enthusiasm

Regrets me about how I should have moved on along with a new family

I wish I could hold my grandchildren in my lap

Fluttering with them to live my own childhood again

I am shading without illuminating,

I am aging without unearthing

How I wish I could wander around the river

Hearing the waves conflict with each other

My old age difficulties have wrapped me around

Denying my adventures of gleefullness

Life has almost come to a conclusion within this center

I couldn’t work as usual, no residence to reside

This old age house has let my life overflow with tranquillity

Out of chores and out of responsibilities,

Yet, deep inside there is an emptiness of a family

Shouts of grandchildren, deep talks with husband, and care by children

Yet, I segregate this twinge apart

Inhaling this delightful present

And exhaling all my past regrets

My struggles have more to reflect

Things must remain untold until they get proper words

My hopes for further cheers

My hopes for tears to die

And a positive perception of any turbulences

Survived me this long in life

This generation has the rains of flowers

I so desire to splash these colorful petals

I was within the leaves in my childhood

clasping monotonous freedom to my own living

Now,

‘Nanibabuharu’ can choose their own loving life partners

Breath along the loved cheers not the dishes of houses

Opt for their own heart and happiness, not others

With a lesser greasy road to existence

You get to work on your own

Stand on your own feet despite of any gender

Be a spender or a blender,

Fewer breakers in the road and all choices in the palms

You get to dream and plan a future

Either splendid or rupture

All in your palms and your feet

It's all your direction today

Again, how I wish I were born in your generation

Married later and studied better