If Blood Indeed Was Thicker Than Water

We trod on the sandy shores

With our passion-smitten hearts

To paint our reminiscences of dexterity.

Our hearts were thick plumes of clouds

In the lightness of cotton feather,

Undefeatable in the crimson red

And in the whiteness of crystals and

In the richness of the redness of blood.

We trod together

And wandered among those vigils

In the altars of the colours of the air

And shared the thinness of the fading sky.

Drenched were we in the odours of the mild rain.

Bidding our adieus to the crescent sun

Soaked with romances of teasing night

Were our hatred-smitten hearts.

Yet,

We left behind those footprints of memories,

Deeper and distinct but shallower and hazy

Shallower and hazy but deeper and distinct.

We breathed each gorge, dale and hill

We took the flairs of the fairness of the blossoms

And left behind our footsteps.

Some of us cultivated our contentment in smile

While others harvested their frustration in tears

The smiles germinated to foster in fecund soil

And the tears withered to dissolve in derision.

Sighed we and the same we smiled.

We dreamt the same but expressed differently.

“What is the difference between us?”

Was in their crunched faces.

“What isn’t the similarity between us?”

Echoed in others’ glimpses.

Guessed I, apparently they weren’t incorrect.

Guessed I, apparently they weren’t correct.

As though my part of this doleful involvement

I pledged to ponder

If Blood indeed was thicker than water

And

If those icy drops of tears in the rubicund cheeks of a pauper

Were as valuable as the intimidating hot blasts of sperms

Along the quixotic curves of a harlot.

11/1/2010

Tags: Bhutanese Literature Bhutani kavita Dom Kafle