If I Could Share the Rainbow

From a distance, a rainbow showers
a fragile arc of hope after long silence.
Colors whisper of beginnings,
while shadows murmur of endings,
and the quiet fear of drifting into nowhere.

Still, the heart refuses to pause,

for light so rare cannot be ignored.
In this moment, a rainbow is felt in life,
and the wish is simple:
may it linger a little longer; or maybe forever.

If only I could share the rainbow,
I would stay beside it,
lose myself in its colors,
and find you there as well.

Beneath the Peaks, A young mind speaks

As a young mind growing in the land of the Himalayas,

I wish to keep alive the strength of my thoughts, the bloom of my will.

To stumble, to rise; to make mistakes and learn...

But around me, the elders stand like immovable hills... Guides, yes!

Yet often unwilling to admit when they too have lost their way.

They drive us mad with commands,

Yet they carry neither the weight of their faults, 

nor the burden of their outdated truths.

Oh, how loudly they preach mindfulness,

While dismissing the very discipline in their own actions.

Still, I’m expected to bow,

To cover their flaws with my silence,

While my small slips are judged as rebellion.

Despite the applause when I speak from my heart,

Where is the shift?

Where is the change they claim to value?

Oh, wise heads with silvered hair,

When will you see that youth is not a threat...

But a force? Not a fault line in your legacy,

But a bridge toward a better future? 

FEMPARCHY: Where Respect Flows Both Ways

Dear Patriarchy,
I am just a young woman trying to carve out a space: 

a place where I can simply breathe.
I am not here to offend you, 

nor am I trying to rebel against your mindset.
I’m just a young woman, showing up with the hope 
A hope that we can belong to the same universe... 
A universe shaped by a common mindset of equality and respect.

Did I expect more from you? No… maybe I didn’t.
I am not here to compete with you.
I only ask for a little corner in your vast yard 
a space where my ideas are heard, 

and where respect flows both ways.
I don’t seek pity. I don’t seek favor.
All I ask is a fair share of values and virtue; a place at the table.

Dear Patriarchy, I’m not here to burn down your walls.
I’m just a young woman longing for FEMPARCHY :
A world that’s half of you, and half of me.
Together. For all. For the future.

Incomplete Looks Good on Me

You said you'd never walk out; but you did,

like it was the easiest vow to break.
No storm, no fight, just silence...
with the door that learned to close too well.

Today the air lifted my hair, like you used to,
but it doesn’t lie about staying.
I whisper, "Just the wind"
and pretend I don't miss your lies.

How funny! I dreamed in forever,
you listened in temporary.
You stared at me like art,
admired, then left abandoned.

And they say I look incomplete without you.
Cute but Sarcastic...
As if heartbreak isn’t the best thing
you accidentally gave me.

IDEOLOGY of FOOL's

Oh, great wise fool with banners so bold,

Chanting old dogmas you barely uphold.
Your ideology; so rigid, so grand
Like a house of cards built on shifting sand.

Truth bends and breaks to fit in your mold,
Nuance? Complexity? Stories untold.
Shouting in echoes, so certain, so bright,
Yet reason retreats from the heat of your fight.

March on, dear thinker, so sure, so right,
Blinded by dogma, but bathed in its light.
The world spins on, unmoved by your creed
While wisdom dies where fools take the lead.

The Art of Falling Quietly

They told me mountains heal; that if I sit still enough,

breathe deep enough, I'll feel whole again.

But all I feel is the earth cracking under me,

the dry, brittle grass clawing at my skin,

and the wind screaming prayers

I no longer believe in.

I used to carry hope; tightly, like a fistful of glass
sharp, glittering, cutting me every time I tried to hold on.  

They called it love. I called it survival.
But who survives like this?
Who drags their heart to the edge of the world
just to watch it bleed out quietly
where no one is looking?

They never broke me; They didn’t have to.
They just took: some of my softness,
more of my belief in tomorrow,
Yes of course, my stupid desperate need to be seen.
They drained me slow, until I smiled through my own vanishing,
until I laughed at my own undoing.
God, I was so easy to forget.

And now, here I am.
Not peaceful. Not reborn.
Just another ruin on the mountainside,

watching the sun set on a life
I don’t even want back. What’s left to want?
When you’ve given until there’s nothing,
when love is just a beautiful way... to be left empty.

Call it healing if you want. Call it growth.
But I know the truth. I was never climbing;
I was falling all along... or call it; fallen long ago.

Footsteps or Footnotes???

The elders lead, heads held proud,
feet on steps well-worn, well plouged.
The young ones trail, heads bent low,
following where they “ought” to go.

A woman behind, a man ahead,
the script unchanged, the lines still read.
Her steps are light, her space is small,
or so they thought. She’ll change it all.

Yet not alone, hands reach, stay,
lifting, guiding, lighting way.
Wisdom lent, not caged nor tied,
strength in voices, walked beside.

So here we march, down for a new page,
wrapped in colors, freed from age.
The flags still dance, the sun still burns,
and now—we rise. It is our turn.

The Chapter of Change

 

Change was never a hollow space,
a missing piece, a thing replaced.

It was the rhythm of time unfurled,
a shift, a breath, a turning world.

She carved her days with quiet grace,
not erasing, but reshaping space.
A book, a journey, a transitory rest
small rewrites in time’s request.

She held her ground, her steadfast view,
unchanging, firm, and wholly true.
Yet life, with whispers soft or stern,
can twist the path, can force a turn.

She didn’t know, she couldn’t see,
that change was waiting patiently.

To All the Women and Girls: Right, Equality, and Empowerment

Nepalese women and girls have made notable progress in recent years, yet significant challenges persist. As of February 2024, women held 33.1% of parliamentary seats, reflecting strides in political representation. In the economic sphere, female labor force participation increased from 23.6% in 2010 to 28.6% in 2022, with women comprising 29.6% of managerial positions as of 2021. 

However, 34.9% of women aged 20–24 were married before 18, and only 61.9% of women aged 15–49 had their family planning needs met with modern methods as of 2019. Additionally, the adolescent birth rate remains high, and significant gaps persist in areas such as unpaid care work and access to assets. As we approach International Women's Day 2025, it is imperative to address these challenges through collective action. This day serves as a call to break barriers, uphold women's rights, and promote gender equality through practical steps. By fostering an environment where every woman and girl in Nepal can thrive, lead, and live with dignity, we can turn the promise of equality into reality.

Step by Step: Side by Side

We dream of a world where voices rise,
where hope unites, where justice flies.
Not yours, not mine—but ours to share,
a space for all, a future fair.

Hand in hand, we claim our place,
no walls to break, no lines to trace.
Opportunities, not just a few,
but open doors for me and you.

We march today, not just for rights,
but for a world where kindness lights.
To walk as one, to shape, to drive,
to build, to lift, to dream, to thrive.

With every step, with every stand,
we write the future, hand in hand.

In the hold of Stillness

Silent he sits, where all worlds begin,
Eyes shut tight, yet awake within.
Moonlight rests on matted crown,

Ganga cascades in silver gown.

He is calm of dusk, the storm of night,

Fire that burns with healing light.

In Tandava's beat, the cosmos sways

Birth and ruin in endless plays.

With Parvati's touch, the fierce grows mild,
Half ascetic, half love's child.
He drinks the dark for life to stay,
Lord of time, who gives and takes away.

Almost Free

She left...
not because she stopped loving,
but because he stopped staying.

Now, hearts knock gently,
but her door stays closed.

Not ready.
Not yet.

Somewhere between leaving him
and loving again,
she lingers;
almost free...

Still Holding on

She lingers in the echoes of yesterday,

where his laughter still curls in the corners of her mind,

soft and deceiving.

She runs her fingers through memories,

like brushing pages of a story

she’s too afraid to finish.

He left; but the scent of him lingers in the air of her quiet nights.
His touch, a ghost on her skin
she cannot wash away.
She tells the world she’s fine,
smiles stitched like fragile silk across her lips.

But love? No! Love is a language she’s afraid how to speak.

How do you trust touch

when his hands once promised forever 

and let go?

How do you believe in hearts

when his pulse once matched hers

but walked away without a sound?

Others come close,

but her heart... afraid to bloom only to wither again.

She laughs at their words,

but her soul stays quiet,

locked in the room where his goodbye still echoes.

He took more than himself when he left:

he took the part of her

that believed love was safe.

Now, she keeps the memories,

even the broken ones

because letting them go

would mean admitting he never stayed,

never truly loved.

And maybe,
a small, fragile part of her
still waits...
for the impossible return, for a love
that won’t come back.

Until then, she’ll walk, half-alive,
wrapped in the softness of what was,
too tender, too torn
to begin again.

Bound by Silence

I’ve stopped holding expectations,

But they weigh heavy with their demands.

I’m overlooked for what I am,

Exhausted, drained by empty hands.

They want me to bend, to shift,

To wear their choices as my own.

Disgust swells as I drift,

In silence, my voice overthrown.

A democracy, they say it’s mine,

Yet I’m forbidden to speak my mind.

A system of freedom, locked in line,

Where my choices are lost, undefined.

Caught in this web, I wonder still:

Are we free, or just bound by will?

ESCAPE not Death...

In shadows cast by moonlight's glow,

Mankind's dreams falter, hopes laid low,

An escape they seek, where burdens wane,

Responsibilities, a fleeting pain.

The weight of life, a crushing load,

Expectations, a heavy road,

No strength to stand, no will to fight,

The darkest hour, the blackest night.

 

The easiest path, a silent plea,

To end it all, to cease to be,

Alas, the hopes that died in vain,

Alas, the soul that bears the pain.

From mind to heart, from soul to flesh,

A tragic tale in silent hush,

A life that sank to lifeless sleep,

A heart that knows the endless deep.

 

Life’s a trauma, a cruel jest,

To defeat oneself, eternal rest,

To win by death, the final breath,

An urge to ease, to escape in death.

Alas, the laughter that now fades,

In empty rooms, in hollow shades,

The soul grieves... the heart cries... 

with every tear, a world of lies.

 

A tragedy unfolds; whispers cold, in tales retold,

The burdened laugh, the weary jest,

To seek escape, to find no rest. 

Yet in the dark, a sliver’s gleam,

A fading star, a distant dream,

For even in this somber play,

A hope that lingers, come what may.

 

Alas, dear soul, the battle’s fierce,

The wounds are deep, the scars they pierce,

But in the struggle, find your part, Tragedy of heart. 

For life, though heavy, holds its grace,

In every shadow, a tender trace,

So laugh at pain, that one face,

it was clearly an Escape not death.....

Womenhood

In the heart of the village, her presence shines,

A beacon of hope, a thread that binds.

She walks with grace, her spirit bright,

A woman leader, a guiding light.

With wisdom deep and eyes that see,

She nurtures dreams, sets spirits free.

In her hands, the map of change,

A multitasker, she rearranges.

From dawn till dusk, she wears many hats,

Balancing roles, breaking through the stats.

A mother, a sister, a friend so dear,

In her embrace, there's warmth and cheer.

She weaves connections, like threads in a loom,

Building bridges, dispelling gloom.

In the fabric of community, she's a maker,

A force of nature, a peace awakener.

In her laughter, echoes resilience,

In her silence, echoes brilliance.

For she carries the stories, the hopes, the fears,

Through trials and triumphs, through the years.

Here's to the women, strong and wise,

Who paint the world with vibrant dyes.

In their strength, we find our grace,

In their love, we find our place.

The womenhood, let us stand tall,

For they are the heartbeat, the soul of all.

In their light, may we forever bask,

For in their presence, we unmask. 

SHALLOW SHADOW

 Oh, let me spin a yarn of great delight,

About a world where things are just so right.

In a land where fairness always prevails,

And she prove herself, as the story entails.

Why, oh why, must she prove her worth?

In this enlightened age, a land of mirth.

A realm where equality supposedly reigns,

Yet she must dance in society's chains.

She, a creature of immense grace,

Must prove her mettle in every space.

For in this world, so just and fair,

Her skills and talents need constant declare.

Oh, the joy of proving, again and again,

That she's just as good as any man.

In a world where equality's the norm,

She must navigate the relentless storm.

"Why, oh why," she wonders in dismay,

As she battles stereotypes day by day.

In this sarcastic ode, let's raise a toast,

To a world where proving is what matters most.

For she, a marvel of wit and might,

Must validate herself, terms of bright Shallow.

In this cosmic comedy, indeed is cold and shadow,

Proving herself is the eternal need.

So here's to the skeptics, the doubters, the crowd,

Who watch her journey, sometimes unbowed.

In this sarcastic verse, a truth unfurls,

That in proving herself, she conquers the world.

Critical imagination

Imagine a simple situation where there is so much inside a speaker to say and express; while he lack the perfect set of audience to listen. And This time the task listening isn't only the listening, it's actually the phenomenon to understand how actually the speaker has been suffering inside the shabby debate of emotion vs intelligence.

Then imagine another situation where the speaker indeed has a good volume of listeners; but he already knows none of the audience is actually listening. Rather this time the audience find the speaker audible because they lack entertainment in their life. Focus on another imaginary situation, This time speaker got his audience who are willing to read what's inside him. They do understand everything. Yet, both can't help each other because of a helplessness.

Often the relationship between the speaker and the audience remains complicated through a thin line of oppioniated criticism. Now imagine, there was no imagine from the very beginning. It was just the modesty of a crucial relationship between types of listener to a speaker!

In the last imagination, speaker yells;

How you see me could be fun'

Fact i face things; well yes m alone!

No glimpse of pain, no clue how frown?

The peaceful tragedy, stabbing me down.

Underneath the covers of smile; Beneath the howl of laughter,

Yeah! I successfully survived in their eyes as cool gangster!!

Under his imagination, he offers his audience a phrase with a smile- "If only letting go is easy, there are so many things i would have let gone without a sigh!"

UnAbandoned (moving forward)

If life is the faith, from when i have continued to live with!

I want to remain Faithful towards the end.😇

(People may laugh, but it took so long to find this confidence back)

Yes life went to the scarcity; Scarcity of living and loving¡?¡

And it flaunted me with a phrase; To survive.

Even if i will be hindered in-between

My heart urges, "Let's dive in; either completely over or you have a big win"

Uneasy sometimes, but still playing cool!

Chill my mind manage the balance- ' it's not the first time, you fool'

Keep going! Keep doing! Keep reminding!

That's all you need! It's a chain Don't break it "in-between"

It's way to sarcastic to elaborate'

To this point: i  have longed for compliment rather than the compromise. 

No more bargain, no more profit or even the losses!

I want to swing realistic, imperfect and ongoing... 

Till and towards the last!

Abandonment

ABANDONMENT

Never had I dreamed to travel so far...

Never could I imagine, your celebrations at par...

Without me; this precious!  

Without me, your charm filled with ARMOUR!!!

For some luxury, For little power POWER

I was banished to Thou's Abandonment.

Nor did I Lie: Nor did I die...

I believe soon my journey would END, 

Yet promise to wait, And the DAY will come

thy your regrets!  thy your loss!

Leading thou towards my day...

I promise to wait, And the DAY will come..

Day would be me, underneath the coffin,

And you will be my observer, peaceful into the sleep!

you will see me carefree and relaxed; from the moment, from the sound.

Your tears might roll out. Yet, I will abandon you, the way you abandoned me.