Posted on December 29, 2016 by Sweta Gyanu Baniya
The gorgeous leaves at West Lafayette, November 2016.
It was true. Fall was majestic. It made me live color by color. Those gorgeous trees, fallen leaves, the smell of those maple trees filled me with immense sensuality. But, still ~ my fingers couldn’t type and I couldn’t write.
I would capture trees one after another, their fallen leaves in my phone. I would collect those leaves one by one, color bycolor to keep them safe because I loved them. I would change my wallpapers in laptop, mobile, update my Facebook cover picture~ but still I wouldn’t write. I would refrain from writing.
The fallen Jacaranda leaves, Kathmandu, May 2016
( *Monologue* I would remember, I would miss ~ The purple Jacaranda blossom in Kathmandu~ both are beautiful ~ but no one wrote about that pretty blue fall with such an emotional intensity except Parijat~But, I desire to read more than that ~I yearn to feel it similar like the way I felt Fall in words). But it was true that Fall was installing a hope for happiness in me. It was true that it gave me joy to hold by. It gave made me feel love again. How? I don’t know! But, I can’t lie~ I was falling in love with the magic of nature for the umpteenth time.
Filed under: Sweta's Monologue | Tagged: fall, Jacaranda, Kathmandu, Writing | Leave a comment »
Posted on October 24, 2008 by Sweta Gyanu Baniya
I am looking at those fluttering moths
Hovering around the light so bright
In the midst of this dark night
Searching for the warmth they are …
Wanting the warmth..
Warmth that is all in vain..
I imagine a “mothic Future”..so much uncertain
They hover around to make themself warm
Unaware they are all in charm,
Getting the fake warmth
More moths came fluttering…
Hovering as others did..
Soon I observe,
They are falling…
Oh my God said I…
“They are dying”..
Their future so uncertain…a mothic Future…dying in the end..
Dying from the warmth they need…
More Moths are falling, more and more are dying,
I am here observing,
A Mothic Future indeed.
Same as theirs..I imagine my future..yes its uncertain…
Infact nothing is certain in this world,
Waiting the certainty..we hover as the moths did..
And in the end
And we meet the Death so uncertain…
A Mothic Future indeed DW
Filed under: Poetry | Tagged: Absurd Life, Absurd poem, fall, future, moths, uncertainty.. | Leave a comment »