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Bhuwan Thapaliya

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Member Since: May, 2004

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Books by Bhuwan Thapaliya
Sail On Boatman, Sail On Towards The Shore
by Bhuwan Thapaliya

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Once, I met this, hoary old extraordinary man,
When I was in his cheerful and buoyant town
Loitering unaccompanied in the emerald park
In the smolder of the monotonous utter dark,
With two wooden oars in his vigorous hand
I smiled and said, Hello! How are you old man?
He nodded his face to me, with a bizarre smile.
"What are you doing", Mr. Old man, in the midst
Of this deserted and dark showground of the night,
I asked him dazed by his odd style. He smiled back
and sat beside me in the parks bench and gasped
a long breath. He smirked his old head and looked
Straight into the chasm of my dazed eyes and asked
"What you are you doing here", Mr. Young man at
This bright juncture of the luminescent nocturnal time
Traumatized was I, upon hearing his weird comments
And I laughed audibly like the thunder, in front of him
For I couldn't control my mirth, upon hearing his belief
This old man must be mad, I thought deep down inside
For, who in this entire extensive Earth, would call this
Terrible and total ecliptic darkness of the murky night
A bright juncture of the luminescent nocturnal time

I twisted my condescending eyes slowly towards him
But he had already gone afar from my instant stance
Holding two wooden oars in between his brawny arms
Singing the tune of labors grandeur with soaring pride
Flabbergasted by this old mans out of the normal action
I smiled with my own individuality, quoting his idiotic
And unpersuasive ephemeral revelation of authenticity
I then paved the path back towards my wonderful inn
Upon reaching the reception, I laughed much again
They inquired me its abrupt clarification and then I
Told them that, just an instant ago, I met this weird old
Man in the emerald park, who thoughtfully told me,
" What are you doing", at this bright juncture of the
Luminescent nocturnal time. Hearing this everybody
Erupted with thunderous laughter like a roar of the lion
waving them good-bye, I leisurely toddled whispering
towards my room. Out of the blue, vigorous lightning
Struck. Then it thundered and the rain began to fell
And in an hour the water level rose up and further up
To the extreme height of the waterlogged wretched inn
Chaos was here and it was there, it was rife as the sin
Fearing death, we all stood on the roof of that flimsy inn

But it thundered more vigorously with each lapse of time
And the rain became more severe as the ploy of the crime
Soon the water rose up to the attic, like the hate in the heart
There was soreness in every face, like the heart in exhaust
For death was already, in the dilapidated floor of lives stout
Dancing to the tunes of, the melodious gratis rain falls snout
Welcoming us to surrender, rapidly in their lap of waterbeds
Sans any bustling resist and enmity of humans manifestation
For all around it was misery and misery, shade within shade
And death was joking with our destiny, jousting our breath
Those cherubic faces, blossomed by the laugher an instant ago,
Now emblems the laughter's ambiguity, in this unbolt peccadillo
For who would have known this then, that after the laughter, we
Would be facing death, in the midst of this adventurous existence
Together in the roof of the abandoned inn, under the moons gaze
Far away from the protection of our domicile, in this forlorn phase
Had heard that love binds the people, jointly under the gaze of adore
But that day I learned that akin to love, fear also fastens the people
When they are in the corridor of death. Holding together their
Penultimate breathe, seeking miracles to save them from sinking
Deep inside this abysmal castle, of omnipotent and horrible decease,
Where there were no trees to give the oxygen, for their subsistence.

Cheers! Suddenly in the distance, we saw the wooden boat
Approaching towards our inn, fighting the towering water
In the midst of this frenzied reprehensible ominous scene
Zephyr of hopefulness blew, so close to our numbed heart
And cheerfulness took a dynamic twist, reverse towards
The core of our ceaselessly exhausted frozen knot of heart
Then life rose from the ashes of the death, like the first light
Back into the garden of love crammed gorgeous roses flight
Estranged from the lethal clutch of gloomy and humid ache
The boat was the emblem of undying hope for our existence,
When we saw the boat approaching towards us progressively
Hope, hope and only hope of subsistence ran in the corridor
Of our minds, in the midst of the shaded and secluded strife
In the shriveled flank of that floating wooden boat, the destiny
Of this so-called omnipotent species laid in abnormal serenity
When it was far away, our optimism was remote as the jollity
But when it came near, our hope was very near to our empathy
There were smiles all around the pinnacle floor, tears of ecstasy,
Hugs and kisses diluted the growl of the deluge with the song of
Life's rhythm. The boat clogged in front of our waterlogged inn
And strong comrades jumped into the dry boat before the frail

In the race of ultimate survival, perfect example of survival
For the fittest was shown, upon the first ray of luminous hope
But the boatman waited for all to approach this miniature boat
For unlike those self-centered comrades, the altruistic boatman
Was here to assist the lean and the feeble souls into the dry shore
Then in a whilst the boat was crammed with lighthearted souls
And the voices sang, sail on…. sail on…. sail on…. sail on now
Sail on now…. sail on now, boatman…. Please sail on towards,
The shore, where there is no water to drown our drenched soul
The captain laughed with himself, totally amused, for they were
Floating on top of the water, to scamper away from the water
Smiling with himself he just kept sailing on and on…. On and on
Echoes of life's timely conquest ran into the heart of them all
The rain was over and gone and the Sun rose in the murky Sky
Life shed its delicate fragrance back into the garden of essence
Death was so close but disheartened it took its solitary course
The boat came to the shore and all of us stepped down with bliss
Into the dry and parched land, the terra firma of ceaseless ecstasy
We were snatched from the clutch of bereavement by the divine
Hands of the solitary man, who rescued all of us from potent vile
Then every body went ahead and thanked this son of the divinity
Songs of his grandeur soon echoed all the way towards the ecstasy

Kissed his hands by citing it as the heavenly hands of the almighty
But this man was not touched by their enthralling cry of praises
The God like behavior of this man stunned me instantaneously
I headed in front to salute and thank him for saving our life
When he turned to look at me, I was shocked and baffled as the
Prey down in the land, when the eagles shadow lands in their flesh
For this man was the same old man, I had met the previous night
In the smolder of the dull park, with oar in his wrinkled hands
Ashamed with my own misdemeanor, I bended down in his knees
And asked for the forgiveness, to forgive me from that deadly sin
He smiled and nodded his head to me and turned back into the boat
That day I told myself, never in my life I will make a joke of the
Laborious men words, no matter what they sound to my puerile core
For there are some individuals, who never slumbers in the ecstasy
And take life as an opportunity to contribute something to the humanity
I stepped back and watched the old man sailing back into the sea
Where would he sail now? I asked this snooping question to me
Suddenly far away from the distance, I heard the whimper for help
And the old mans boat was sailing in the direction of that suppurate
After a while I heard the chant…. sail on boatman…sail on boatman
Please towards the shore, where there is no water to drown our soul
Then I stood straight and saluted this old mans exhilarating bravado

Copyright 2003 Bhuwan Thapaliya

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Reviewed by Tami Ryan 8/23/2003
What a masterpiece!!
Reviewed by Jenni Kalicharan 8/16/2003
Masterfully done..thanks for re-posting..
Reviewed by na na (Reader) 8/16/2003
Bhuwan, always follow the lead of the 'old man' and you can do no wrong. What a deep and interesting work of art. What a story of survival of Spirit in face of death; led by a Savior. Excellent tale my friend.Bill Murray
Reviewed by Birdie Houston 8/16/2003
A Splendid Masterpiece !
Reviewed by Nicole Davis Vergara (Reader) 8/16/2003
Wow, Bhuwan a true masterpiece here you have penned...old or not it is extrodinary!!!!
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 8/16/2003
outstanding write, bhuwan; thanks for posting this! (((HUGS))) and love, your frined in america, karen lynn. :D
Reviewed by - - - - - TRASK 8/16/2003
Next Time Some Old Man Smiles . You Will Think Twice,i.e. Satan Devil Has Many Faces, He Is HUMAN BEING!

Note: Whence Some One Smiles . Me My 1st Thought,i.e. What Is It He/She Wants_
Of Course I Have Lived Many More Hells In This Physical World Longer Than You...

Credit For The Write N Detail..
Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader) 8/16/2003
A masterpiece...
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader) 8/16/2003

I smiling poet friend hugs so excellent this is
perfection John is right wisdom and such a

{{smiles}}}} Clap Clap Love and Luck
Lady Peg
Reviewed by E T Waldron 8/16/2003
Just what this Den needs to read Bhuwan! A masterpiece, thank you!
Reviewed by OnepoetGem *the Poetic Rapper 8/16/2003
I was curiuos as to how this was going to turn out. I wasn't disappointed. Kind of reminded me of one of my own dilemmas. These two young men, both about 20 years younger than me, kept harassing me, in a fun like way. One of them challenged me to a wrestling match, I beat him. Then came the basket ball, he only beat me by two points. Afterwards they had more respect for this old man who was twice their age. I tried to tell them before it all started, "I'm not the average old man, I'm in pretty good shape for my age and I'm strong. Great story, enjoyed it. G
Reviewed by Floreann Cawley 8/16/2003
Magnificent write..Floreann
Reviewed by Tony Nerone 8/16/2003
Wonderfully done.

Reviewed by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie 8/16/2003
This was so beautiful and outstanding, I loved reading this so very much this morning, You are truly a master poet and story teller,

Reviewed by John Bidwell 8/16/2003
This is just too good to believe.
Everybody can stop writing has been done to perfection here.
You were sure in the right place when inspiration struck.
They don't get better than this.
I salute you!
Reviewed by Tinka Boukes 8/16/2003
Enjoyed this nice loooooong one Bhuwan!!

This was real good to read!!

Love and luck!!

love Tinka

A Crimson Tide by Lena Kovadlo

Indulge in poetry that spans the many colors of our lives.....  
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