Hundreds of flowers bloom amidst exotic orchid cowslip magnolia and countless flora exotica galore. This is us – Nepali Sovereign - spread out from Mechi to Mahakali. Men and women and children work together here hoeing the vegetable patches and tilling the land for crops to be sown.
Monsoon makes the crops greener. Farm vegetable, crops, grains and lentils must thrive. A playground for millions of Nature’s gifts- ant eater, danfe bird, cock of the forest, cormorant, snow leopard, one honed rhino, haathi the elephant and the immortal Everest and the Himalaya looking down upon the world of men . . . Land of knowledge, land of peace, Terai, hills, mountains . . . Indivisible - our beloved, motherland Nepal. Orchids sprout. Flowers bloom and butterflies flutter . . . Ethereal dewdrops glisten here and there. The ranges of kaleidoscopic colours are enhanced. By the blood of heroes, independent and immovable -Multi-racial, multi-lingual, multi-religious and with a large culture . . . Progressive nation ours, oh great Nepal!
The North Star appears. Winter skies open up for the dark of night’s panoply to be pinned with bright stars. The dead heroes disappear as martyred ashes dispersed by a fresh breeze. Into the atmosphere into the river mixed with the sand pebbles and the sand their substance vanished.
Far into many starry nights my own contemplation keep me awake. From now on national heroes would no more amicably share the material world here with their fellow nationals however their spirit, an integral part of collective consciousness, souls weighed for their patriotism . . . would continue to inspire. Prayerfully I leave my ponderings for sleep and dreaming dreams within dreams.
Innocence resides within: ignorance surrounds us; the dance of tender hearts and good will is choreographed to the music of sound knowledge. The melodies must be pure and true. On the other side of the river of progress dancers see a bright future. Culture, geography, history, the sciences and the arts ride of the tides of commitment. Not only folklore, even education takes on such substantial meanings as to be placed among legendary symbols as relevant to the present as the crops in the fields, the weather, the beasts and the forests.
One day when the nation settles down again, the peace kept for good in this land, I’ll mosey up and down from the meandering Himalayan trails to the Tear Eye Plains to visit all the villages I can. I look forward to quiet laid back times with different countrymen, amas and the ketaketi - all the big ones and the little ones there. To all, God bless . . .