It’s four days since Iam beneath the rubble,

Without food, without water, without fresh air,

Eyelids drooping with sleep.

Smile wistful, sometimes euphoric, sometimes pensive.

 

Catapulted in a weird world,

I am stringing

The scattered pearls of my life

While the adrenaline is rushing in my veins.

I see my childhood days,

A world torn by strife,

And my grieving heart bleeding

For the wounded and the widowed.

I can hear my friends

Playing under the mango tree

And my dog barking

And chasing them playfully.

 

Then, I see myself growing fast as an adolescent,

Expanding my learning experience

While my voice stabilizes

And my beards grow thicker.

 

I see my first love Koirala,

So beautiful, so innocent,

So caring and so loving.

Where is she now?

Is she beneath the rubble

Just like me, somewhere?

Is she waiting for me?

 

God, these three days were like three generations,

And I have eliminated

All shadows of sin from my heart.

My heart is bleeding

Just like my hands.

It is all, I believe, a cleansing process.

I am clean now.

I know what is life all about.

Lord, set me free.

 

Pramila Khadun