Equality Fetched by the Fear of Tragedy
Also called by Yati Raj Nyaupane, Yati Raj Ajnabee is an enthusiast of letters who had to leave his parents, siblings and his homeland in the first year of his teens in 1992. He, who was born in Surey, a village in Southern Bhutan, has been living in Australia since September 2008. The chap is convinced that the language and literature of a community reflect how far it has reached in the road to civilization. According to his inner man, underlining promotion and preservation of culture, language and literature in a foreign country when an exodus leaves its indigenous locale for keeps, is so tough and testing that it turns out to be a knack if one does well in doing so. He can be contacted at yrajanabee@gmail.com.
Yati Raj Ajnabee
Adelaide, South Australia
Malnutrition and poverty-stricken Africa
has been singly fighting for centuries
begging for breath
The virus of famine is bigoted
It only sneaks, rests in, infects the poor’s intestine
Coronavirus creates no clefts among classes
It doesn’t discriminate based on precedence or valour
It splits no humans for their possession, profession, country, costumes
The whites and the blacks, the Aryans and the Mongolians are alike
The doctors and the traditional healers are alike
The warlord, president, prime minister and the bridesmaid are alike
Donald Trump and Tom, Dick, Harry are alike to the one-eyed virus
More than by Adolf Hitler, Saddam Hussein and Pol Pot
are humans horrified by
the unseen and the unknown enemy— COVID-19
Humans are scared more to the unseen and the unknown enemy— COVID-19
than to the WWI&II
They’ve distanced themselves
They’ve forgotten the tragedy—
The genocide of the Jewish
They no longer recall the gas chamber
They’re destined to see their own holocaust
The sunrise and the sunset make no difference now
Asleep in the dark are the owls
Not anymore sing the cuckoos
Sealed are the bills and toes tied of the ever chirping and astir wrens
The stink of stiff no more fascinates vultures
The eagles are deaf to the last laments of the snake-fanged-frogs
The lions not anymore pounce on other beasts
Now the waves are whispering soliloquies
On the seashores is walking
the deathly silence sheathed in a bulletproof jacket
Everything’s dull
Blocked are the borders
Aloof are the affinities
Mute are the tones of life
At the nightclubs is the present, as if it’s an end of eras,
showcasing the destructive dance— Tandava
Every moment is singing blues in an opera void of audience
The cinemas have malformed into ghost house
Solitary are the shopping malls
Forsaken are the plazas
The orchards, gardens, parks are deserted
Though the heart’s beating, it feels as though the breeze’s stopped
Though the clock’s ticking, it feels as though the time’s paused
Flowless are the rivers of time motionless as hills
Tinkle not the temple and church bells
Lonely are the entire dells
Bare are the boats on the Lake Fewa
Soundless are the cities
Lifeless are the Wall Streets
The mothers are hesitating to breastfeed their own kids
The sons are scared to bear the body of their deceased father
The crematories are void of and funeral-goers and grievers
No attendees are at weddings
The grooms are faltering to hold the bride’s finger for a ring
The newly-weds on their honeymoon are petrified to share the bed
The skies have peace but no planes
The aircraft have grounded themselves and
are on strike postponing their flights
Dead are the rails
Void of vehicles are the roads
Prostrated as dead are the schools and colleges
Crowded until yesterday
empty are today the bars, pubs, cafes, restaurants
The manufactory’s chimney no more belches out smoke
The seats maintaining mutual distance at the stadium
are watching the play of time
Humans have surrendered
They’re caged in their own nests
The residences have turned into prisons
The residents into prisoners
Click here to listen/watch the poet reciting its Nepali version.