For the unborn

Born in Lower Bockray, Chirang Bhutan, in 1974, Pokhrel attended his primary education from Damphu Junior High School. He completed his secondary and higher secondary education from Nepal and has Bachelors degree in Humanities’ with sociology honors from West Bengal, India. He is one of the founding executive members and vice-chair of Bhutan Press Union (BPU) and founding member of Bhutaneseliterature.com, one of the much browsed literary sites of Bhutanese across the globe.

Also, currently is the Secretary of Literature Council of Bhutan (LCOB) established in 1993. He served Bhutanese Refugee Children as a volunteer teacher under Caritas-Nepal from 1996-2001 and taught in a few private schools in Nepal prior to his departure to the US.

He has an ardent interest in poetry, short stories, and drama work since his early days. Has contributed more than two dozens of his poetry works and write-ups both in English and Nepali in Kuensel Weekly published from Thimphu Bhutan in the past, an equal number of his literary works are published in other regional magazines and portals, and few of his dramas staged so far.

One of the founders of this portal, Pokharel served as Managing Editor from 2010 to 2014. He also served as Secretary of Literature Council of Bhutan (LCOB) from 2014 to 2019.  Currently, he resides in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and works for BNS as its Chief Editor, President of Bhutanese Community Association of Pittsburgh (BCAP), Service Coordinator at Jewish Family & Children Service, Pittsburgh under Immigrant Services and Connections (ISAC) program.

Rup Narayan Pokharel
Sanischare

In an early dawn
Of late autumn
Through ajar window
Of a semi-urban house
Dropped an eerie epistle.
The lassie of the flat
Did pick it up,
Yet:
Doer remained unknown.
Lassie ran through lines…..
Seela, love and soothing kisses to you
Though late.
I’m at the verge of
Breathing my last,
For I’m wounded
To no repair.
I did my best,
To let my land live long.
I am happy indeed,
For I’ve lessen
The risk of being fallen.
Take care of the fetus,
For there flows my blood
And your only living hopes.
The name tag for it
That we have chosen
Perhaps unforgotten.
I had thought of soiree with cronies
And confer the named-tag
By the gender betwixt the two.
Seela, do confer from my part too.
May they bring to you
My stiffened corpse …
My humble plea!
Do have a snap
For I haven’t had any.
Do it just for the sake
Of our progeny
To at least imagine my being.
Be in good heart enough
And moist not the eyes,
For I am parting
Being Martyr.
Martyrdom owes…
Seela, love and soothing kisses to you
Shall shower by my soul
Take care of the newcomer.

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