A voice came,
out of nowhere,
and said,
“Come on,
leave your false identities,
leave your fake fallacies,
leave yourself from you,
leave the hoax that you are you,
come out in the
garden of God,
and wash the blood
of xenophobia from your hands.”

When I first heard that voice,
I ignored that voice, and kept
on marching on and on,
within the borders of my life
but even after years of negligence,
the voice kept on hitting me,
on and on, with higher notes.

Then one fine day,
I decided enough is enough,
and had one on one
conversation with the voice.
I asked the voice,
“Why are you always
troubling me with your
thoughtless advices?”

The voice smiled aloud,
leaned on my shoulder and asked,
“What is there in Indians,
which is not in Pakistanis?
What is there in Pakistanis,
which is not in Indians?”

Ah! It was a tough question
to answer for a fickle brain like me,
but to hide my ignorance, I gave,
hundred examples, but finally, I
gathered courage, and asked the voice
to answer its own question.

“Listen, my son,” it said,
“The answer is very simple,
“what is there in Indians
there is also in Pakistanis,
and what is there in Pakistanis
there is also in Indians.
Because both –
the Pakistanis and the Indians
have a heart- the engine of love.”

And likewise, it said,
“What is there in Americans that
is also in Iranians, and what is there
in the Iranians, there is also in the Americans.
Because both-
the Americans and the Iranians
are the children’s of one father – Love.”

My son, it said, “Don’t worry
about the mythical national frontiers,
establish love and solidarity all around,
and then watch the free play of natural forces.
If you do not think beyond your nation,
you will never become
a true human being in this life:
do not die, do not die my son,
without being a human-
after leading a human life.”

Oh, how, indeed could I tell the voice
that all these years, I had been living a false life?
How could I utter for shame that I am not
a human being, but a beast in the human form?

I sat on the grass of the reality,
and waited there for hours and hours
gazing upon the human,
creed by creed, religion by religion,
skin by skin, nationality by nationality,
trembling with utter shame
as a creeper rocked by the wind.


The voice rose again from its slumber
and said, “Stand up oh awaken!
Let not your life pass in vain! Here,
take my hand and let it be your guide.”
I stood up with a fertile heart, and
felt that I have become human
for the first time in my life,
and whispered softly in his ears,
“Thank you voice, thank you
so much for opening my eyes.
Come, my voice, let us sing the song
that has remained unsung till this day.”

Oh Lord!
No more worshippers, yet,
we will burn your lamp,
open the rusty gates
of your temple,
and bow before you, our pride.
Nationalism, patriotism,
and hollow martyrdom
these all are myths for us
they do not exist in our realism.
We are the global citizens,
the true citizens of this world.
We believe not in the axis of evil,
but in the circle of love.

Oh Lord!
Give us the pang
of thousand spiders,
and take away
everything we possess.
Smack us with
the hammers of misfortune,
and nail our smiles
in the sachet of pain.

Oh Lord!
Take us to the mountain,
and roll us down, down, down,
from the cliff, and leave our corpse
for the icicles to gulp.
Drag us to the river Koshi, peel our
heart naked, and then throw us into
its hungry rapids, as they throw
fishes in the mouth of the alligator.

Oh Lord!
Tie our hands
to the gallows pole,
and as earthworms, burrow deep
into the soil, to bury our soul.
Estrange us from our poems,
erase every verse of ours,
take our poetic fervor
and the rhythms of our life.

Thus we pray before you, our lord,
with folded hands, and with tears.
After so many beleaguered years,
do what you yearn to do with us,
but please give every mother
what she needs today -
Peace, peace, peace, peace and peace.
So that her darkened heart,
might become, a glittering ray
of glorious years to come.



Copyright 2006 Bhuwan Thapaliya