This is something different from Bhuwan. This is not a poem. Hope you will like this.

(One fine morning, I was strolling all alone in the garden far away from my home. All of a sudden, there I saw a girl with a warm, ripe breast. My goodness! She was lovely and her breasts were so ripe that my mouth watered with joy. I couldn’t resist my temptations and introduced myself to her, coz she was as beautiful as the Helen of Troy.)

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Scene I

Me: I am thirsty. Can I have them please?
She: No, I am saving this for someone special.
Me: Oh! Who is he?
She: The man of my dreams.


Me: But your breasts are already ripe.
She: So what, I shall wait for him.
Me: Your breast will be rotten by then.
She: No it wont be; it’s just a matter of time.


Me: Oh! Ok, but what will you do,
if the man of your dream,
comes never in your real life.
She: I am sure he will come.
Me: Incase, if he never comes in your life.
She: In that case, I shall find another man.


Me: Till then you will be old and
your ripe breasts will be rotten.
She: Oh, yeah. Let it rust. I don’t mind.
Me: And what will you do, if
no man turns to look at you.
She: Oh! Thanks for reminding me.

Scene II

She: I agree with you. There is no point waiting.
The future is hazy and the life is transitory.
By the way, I think the day is hot and you are
looking very parched and hungry. Would you
like to taste me?
Me: No. Thank you.
She: What. My Goodness…. why not?
Me: Because I am not the man of your dreams.


She: You are mad, I am sure. You told
me not to wait, and now, when I am
offering these fresh fruits to you. You
are abstaining me.

Me: I was only testing,
your patience and faith in love.
But now I am surprised,
how easily you left all
your dignity just because
of some silly stranger like me.

She: (Eyes of remorse)

Scene III

Me: Have faith in God and Love.
Then you will get the man of your dreams
and don’t worry about getting old
cause the man, who really loves you,
loves you not for your breasts.

Whether it’s ripe or rotten,
it doesn’t matter.
All he needs is a beautiful heart.
Life sure is transitory
but it should be lived
with dignity.


(We waved good-bye and headed our way.
But every single day I still see her and hear her.
Finally after ten years I met her again
beneath the orchard tree.)

Scene IV

Me: I am thirsty, can I have them please.
She: You are a rascal. Stop!
The kids are glancing.
Me: I don’t mind!
Go and play kids.
Mama and Papa are meditating.




Copyright 2005 Bhuwan Thapaliya.

Pic source: www.gregoryharrisonsite.com