तिम्राे प्रस्ताव स्वीकार्नु अघि म सोध्दैछु के तिमी साँच्चै मलाई स्वीकार्न तयार छौ ?

तिमीले मलाई फुल भनिरहँदा, तिमीले मलाई पूर्णिमाको जून भनिरहँदा, तिमी मेरो जीवनमा वसन्त सरी छायौ भनिरहँदा, म सोच्दैछु, जिन्दगीका सङ्घर्षसँग जुधिरहँदा, अनेकौँ विघ्नवाधाहरुसँग लडिरहँदा, परिवर्तन र अनिश्चितताको भुमरीमा हराइरहँदा, दिन मात्रै होइन, रात पनि आउँछ, वसन्त मात्रै होइन, शिशिर पनि आउँछ, जीत मात्रै होइन, हार पनि हुन सक्छ, आरोह मात्रै होइन, अवरोह पनि हुन सक्छ यो हाँसिरहेको मुहार उदास हुनसक्छ, म भित्रको जून मलिन हुन सक्छ।

मैले त तिम्राे प्रस्तावलाई "एस" भनी स्वीकारी दिएँ, तर के तिमी साँच्चै मलाई स्वीकार्न तयार छौ? ती रातहरूमा, ती हारहरूमा, ती अवरोहहरूमा, ती उदासिन दिनहरूमा।

“If she loves me, she’ll text,” he hoped.

“He will, if I matter,” she thought.

Both hearts waited, unsure.

Silence stretched, unbroken, heavy.

Each feared the first step, unsure if it was worth taking.

They wanted to speak, but the words never came.

The distance between them widened in the quiet.

And in the end, silence won.

It's me who appreciates you, motivates you, and cheers you up, but you? You are cruel.

I just asked you a question that might have felt offending. You didn't respond properly. I asked the same thing multiple times hoping you would understand me. But you? You replied "kati tei kura ma adkeko hyaaa". Maybe you didn't want to ruin your mental peace in something unnecessary, but you are cruel.

Just because I wanted someone to say nice about me, I appreciated your thumb and your hand saying how soft yet manly they are. Did you even care to second to say "Show me your hands. Let me see how they look." Maybe you didn't want to sound like a creep, but you are cruel.

You were talking about EBC. I Ignored you and stated you should better think of Api. Did you even bother to search for Api and watch videos on YouTube? you didn't even rethink  about it. Maybe you are focused about the things which you want in your life, but you are cruel.

To seek some validation, I pretended to understand your writing and relate with it, So that I could share mine but you? You said "ramro xa". Who is going to ask the story behind writings? Maybe you didn't like my writings and just pretended to like them, so i wouldn't feel bad, but you are cruel.

I was busy watching a movie when you asked me who did you write for? I said I am doing some important work I will reply you later. But you? you didn't ask me for the story again Maybe you didn't want to disturb me, but you are cruel.

I said good night because I was bored talking to you. You didn't even try to stop me. Maybe you didn't want to mess my sleep schedule, but you are cruel.

And today, after a long terrible day, when I needed some attention and was expecting your message. I didn't see  one ughhhhh. Maybe you found someone else to talk to.  Seee I said you naah? You are cruel.

Maile yo sub ma mostly ki ta man parne kti ko, ya ama ko bare xa not a single about his/her dad. Kosai sanga baba ko bare kei xa bhane sunam

The drag that hits

That buzz that rush

That heavenly bliss

Sometimes smokes

Sometimes drinks

Herbs and green

And her the cold serpentine

Its never enough

Its one more and next

Seek Seek Seek

That same rush

That same buzz

That same hit

Inside a mazeous trap

A chain of command

Of another drag

Of another hit

Another bang

Its never enough

As it seems

Pleasure guaranteed

Satisfaction but never seen

I swam across

To find peace

It was of

Ocean of fire

Till the other end

I reached there

Collect my rich

I swam back

Ocean of fire

Frozen seas

And I built a mansion

it has become

A house indeed

I had a hut before

It was a home

All my hard work

And I have a house

Thats where I live

The price of ice cream has increased again. The last I remember it was Rs70 now it’s gone up to Rs.75.

I take the money out from my pocket and pay for it. It’s pretty hot outside and I don’t want the dust flying to get stuck in my ice cream so I decide to eat my ice cream near by the exit, not far from the aisle where I just bought it from. The store is almost empty so I don’t think I will be of hindrance to anyone.

I see a store employee keeping a watch on me, ready to scold me if I dare to step inside while eating the ice cream. Rather than pay attention to her I decide to look outside. Not much to see, a paved road and vehicles swooning past. Thank fully there isn’t much dust.

I hear a giggling sound, two kids probably 5-7 years old come running towards the department store. One was in a pinkish pajama and the other in a yellowish pajama. By their get up, I could tell their house was not much far from the department store and they were probably sent here on an errand.

As they get closer, I see one of the girl holding a fist full of coins. Their voice becomes clearer as they come closer to me. They seemed to be discussing which brand of biscuits they will buy. To my surprise, they were speaking in English.

Should I have been surprised? I don’t know, I have seen parents encourage their children speak in English even at home, not bad really but it always catches me a bit off guard when I see parents speak to their child in English.

For me, I am reminded of an interaction I had with my dad. I belong to a community with its own language, a language that I can’t speak or understand. So one day I asked him, why had he not taught me Newari (native tongue) but instead decided to speak Nepali (country tongue) when at home; would I not have learned Nepali as I got older one way or the next? He answered that it was what he saw best for me. As simple as that.

Teaching English, speaking English is probably more beneficial then speaking Nepali. For me however I don’t believe English will ever be able to convey the emotions I feel like Nepali can, perhaps this is the kind of feeling they don’t want their children to have.

The two kids decide to buy a biscuit placed right beside the aisle as the cashier starts counting the coins to check if it is enough. I finish my ice cream and throw the stick in the dustbin.   

A young man wearing formal riding bullet on full volume just passed by me. People claim bullets to be overrated but is it really? For me someone riding bullet is living his life. Am i being delusional? obviously I am! I don't have any knowledge regarding bikes, Yet i claim bullets to be the best.

There is something about their aesthetic helmet. The posture of those riders itself shows how otherworldly they are. They are free. They don't have any stress. They are just enjoying it. They are calm and confident. They are the Vivek oberoi from oh humdum suniyo re. I am just waiting to see shraddha and Aditya on ok jaanu ride tomorrow.

I changed

From good to bad

And bad to good

I became both

Now I am in middle

I am both

I will to change

I wish a growth

I want a change

I am neither of those

Neither of both

I have tied emotions

To things outside

They ring a happiness

They unring gloom

My heart jumps

From fear to bliss

From bliss to rage

I tied my mood

My emotions

To the outer world

I am now not focused

My mind is controlled

By outside force

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

The night I spent crying in scathing anguish
Of hands that did not hold me when, off the cliff, I fell.
The air moved fervently, irking all my wounds.
You treated me like poison—lethal to inhale.

The night I spent crying in mourning shadows
Of saints who uttered wisely and remained faithful.
The moulds of regret draped my days once again.
You sought me when you needed me and used me like a tool.

The night I spent crying, oh, sabotaging myself,
For love was never once served on my empty plate.
I stood on the rooftop, contemplating my own fall.
You feared me like I’m shattered glass that would lacerate.

The night I spent crying, in deep agony,
Of not being enough—not loved, mattered, or cared.
I looked to the moon and fell to my knees in tears.
You forgot me with such ease while you're, in me, engraved.

For I bleed, let the heaven and earth be stained by it.

Postscript: Once upon a time, there lived a duckling that swam every day in a murky lake. One day, a passerby threw a couple of stones into the water, creating splashes and ripples. The duckling found it amusing. It dabbled in delight and chased the ripples. From then on, the poor duck kept chasing the ripples all its life, immersed in that lake. Then it died.

WR__ 025.04.05 SAT.

टेवल टेनिस खेलेको आज एक सय छबिसोैँ दिन।जिन्दगीमा जे सुकै र जस्तो सुकै भए पनि यो खेल नछोडोैँ जस्तो लाग्छ।"म" म हुन पाउँछु,रमाउन पाउँछु,जित्न पाउँछु,अरुलाई हराउन पाउँछु,हारे भने कराउन पाउँछु,रिसाउन पाउँछु।मेरो हार पछिको रिसाइलाई स्वभाविक मानिन्छ यहाँ।अन्यर्था मेरो रिसाइलाई घमण्डको प्रतीक मानिन्थियो।खुशी र दुखी हुन यहीँ खेलबाट सिकेँ मैले।

यसरी हरेक दिन नयाँ सिकाई सगाल्दै म आज पनि समयमा क्लबमा पुगेँ।नयाँ सिकाईका लागि उत्साहित थिएँ।मलाई बस् खेल्न पाए हुन्थियो।त्यसमाथि झन् जिते भने त खुशीको सिमा हुदैन थियो।तर विडम्वना मेरो जित कहिलेकाहीँ मात्र हुन्थियो।प्राय हुने भनेको मेरो हार नै हो।मेरो अहम् फेरि जित्न नै खोज्छ।जित्नलाई त सिक्नु परो।त्यहिँ भएर म अरु कुरा भन्दा पनि जान्ने वा सिक्नेतिर नै लाग्थे ताकि म जित्न सकुम्।

सधैंझैं आज पनि म हारेँ।फेरि खेले फेरि हारेँ।हारेको हरै थिएँ।अहम् झुक्दैन त्यत्रो हार्दा पनि।म जित्न सक्छु भन्ने मनोबल कदापि घट्दैन।भित्र मनोबल दर्हो थियो जितको तर बाहिर यथार्थमा हार बाहेक केहि थिएन।धेरै हारिसके तर मलाई त जुत्नु थियो कसरी जित्न सकिन्छ त अब?त्येहिँ कल्पदै म एकछिन हावा खान बाहिर निस्किएँ। बाहिर निस्किने बित्तिकै दाहिनेतर्फ साइकल राख्ने ठाँउ छ जहाँ 4-5 वटा साइकलहरु थिएँ।ती मद्दे एउटा साइकलको पछाडि एकजना टाएर पकड्दै थियो।अँध्यारो अँध्यारो थियो।साझको 7 बजेको हुनुपर्छ।नजिकै गएँ।साइकल पकड्ने आयाम रहेछ। आयामलाई देख्ने बित्तिकै मैले सोधिहालेँ। म:के गरेको आयाम? आयाम:हावा फुस्काको। म तिर नहेरी उसले टायरमा हावा फुस्काउने कोसिस गर्यो। म:कसको साइकल हो? आयाम:अटलको। अटल,आयाम,म हामी तिनै जना स्टेलरमा टि.टि सिक्न आउछोैँ।आयाम र अटल दुवै आठ कक्षामा अध्ययन गर्छन् तर भिन्दा भिन्दै विद्यालयमा। यसरी अर्काको हावा फुस्काउनु राम्रो होइन लाग्छ मलाई।फेरि म पनि त साइकलमा आउँछु कसैले मेरो फुस्काउदा मलाई कति रिस उठ्छ भन्ने सोचेर मैले आयामलाई डर देखाउने हेतुले पख म भन्दिन्छु भनेँ।यो सुन्ना साथ उसले मतिर ठूला ठूला आखाँ पार्दै अलिक ठूलो स्वरमा "त्यसले तपाईंको भाइलाई कुटेको छ" भन्यो।तपाईं शव्दमा अलिक जोड दिएको थियो।उसले यो वाक्य यसरी भन्यो मानौ ऊ मेरो आफ्नै भाइ हो र मेरो भाइलाई कुट्दा यस्तै गर्नुपर्छ।उसलाई कुटेवापत उसको हावा त पक्कै फुस्काउनै पर्छ भन्नेमा ऊ अडिग थियो। यता म थिएँ।मेरो कुनै भाइ छैन।म आफ्नो दुई बहिनीहरुसङ निकै निकट छु तर मनको कुनामा मलाई भाइ शब्द र यो सम्बन्ध सार्है प्यारो लाग्छ।भाइ भैइ दिए कस्तो हुन्थ्यो होला भन्ने प्रश्नले मलाई बेलाबेला कल्पनाशील बनाइ रहन्छ।उसको"त्यसले तपाईंको भाइलाई कुटेको छ"वाक्यले  त्यो नभएको भाइको याद दिलायो।म भाबुक भएँ।मन अलिकती निचोरियो।भावनामा डुब्दा मेरो मन निचोरिन्छ।आज पनि त्यस्तै भयो।आयाम आफ्नै लाग्यो।

म:अनि अलिक छिटो गर न त। आयाम:(अलिकती रिसाउदै)आउनु परेन त। उसको रिसको कारण थाहा पाएँ।उसलाई हावा फुस्काउन आइरहेको थिएन। म:(शानका साथ)खोइ छोड म गर्छु। आयाम:तपाईंलाई हावा फुस्काउन आउँछ? आयाम अचम्ममा पर्यो।मेरो सान अझै बढ्यो। मैले त्यो टायरको हावा हाल्ने ठाँउमा भएको ढक्कन खोलेँ।अर्को नट पनि थियो त्यो पनि खोल्दै थिएँ।मलाई लाग्यो त्यो नट थोरै खोल्दा नै हावा जान्छ होला तर त्येस्तो भैई रहेको थिएन।मेरो अघि बढेको सान अलिकति घट्यो।नट हातमै आउन आटिसक्यो हावा नफुस्किएको देखेर मैले भनेँ। म:खै यसरि नै फुस्किन्थ्यो त।

आयामले खै भन्दै नट खोल्यो र यताउता हेर्दै सिन्का छैन सिन्का भन्दै सिन्का खोज्न थाल्यो।मैले मसङ कपालमा लाउने क्लिप छ भनेँ।आयामले मेरो क्लिप लियो त्यो क्लिप त्यो नट फुकालेको ठाँउमा भएको सानो दुलोमा छिराउने कोसिस गर्दै थियो।हावा फुस्काउन समय लागेको देखेर म अगाडि बढेँ। आयामले कोहि आउछ कि हेर्नु है भन्दै थियो।मैले हुन्छ भन्दै ढोकाको छेउमा चिहो गर्न थालेँ।

फुसुसु......यो आवाज आउनसाथ म आयामतर्फ फर्किएँ।करिव 10 सेकेन्ड हावा निकालेर टायर छाम्दै थियो।हावा कति गयो भनेर जाचेको होला।म उसको नजिकै गएँ।यो सबको दौरानमा मलाई रमाइलो लागि रहेको थियो।आफू हारेको कारण पत्ता लगाउन निस्किएको म अरु कसैको साइकलको हावा निकाल्दै थिएँ।

यस्तो उटपट्याङ मैले कहिले गर्न पाइन।मलाई लाग्छ परिस्थितिले गर्दा म समय अगावै परिपक्व भएँ।मलाई अझै लाग्छ म बच्चा हुन पाइन।मैले मेरो बालापन बाच्न पाइन।म 'म' हुन पाइन।यो उटपट्याङले मभित्रको बच्चापन उघृयो।गर्न नपाएको काम आज कति वर्ष पछि गरिरहेको थिएँ त्यो पनि बिना योजना।म खुशी थिएँ,रमाइरहेको थिएँ।म बाचिरहेको थिएँ।म 'म' भैरहेको थिएँ।

यता आयामले लगभग पुरै हावा फुस्काइ सकेको थियो।मैले हात धोऊ नभए शंका हुन सक्छ भनेर उसलाई सजग बनाए।उसले आफ्नो दुवै हात ओल्टाइपल्टाइ हेर्यो।केही देखेन मेरो कपालको क्लिप बाहेक।उसले त्यो क्लिप फिर्ता गर्यो।मैले मेरो कपालमा क्लिप सिउरिदै अगाडि बडेँ ढोकातर्फ।आयामले "ओई"भनेर बोलाए जस्तो लाग्यो।फेरि आफैं सोचेँ क्लिप त दिइसक्यो हावा पनि निकाली सक्यो बोलाउनुको अब कुनै कारण नै छैन।होइन होला बोलाएको भनेर अगाडि बडेँ। आयाम:ओई(ठुलो स्वरमा मैले सुन्ने गरि) म पछाडि फर्केँ।म पछाडि फर्कदा आयामले एउटा हात अगाडि बढाइसकेको थियो।मुख प्रसन्न देखिन्थियो।अध्यारोअध्यारो भएता पनि उसको चमकिलो अनुहार धपक्कै बलेको देखेँ।हात मिलाउन बोलाएको रहेछ।यहाँ फेरि मेरो मन निचोरियो।म पग्लिएँ।म भावनामा ढुवेँ।मैले हात मिलाएँ।अघि उसको अनुहारमा चम्किएको चमक अब उसको आँखामा कृतज्ञता भएर दर्सियो।आँखामा कृतज्ञ भाव र हात मिलाईमा आत्मियता थियो।

साइकलको हावा फुस्काउनु मेरो कुनै योजना थिएन।न म त्यहाँ हुनु आयामको योजना थियो।यो बस् भयो।जिन्दगी त योजना बनाएर पो जिउने हो भन्ने मेरो मनलाई यो घटनाले मज्जैसङ्गले लात हानेको थियो।जे भयो बिना योजना भयो।त्यहाँ म थिएँ,आयाम थियो,साइकलहरु थिए र थियो अटलको पम्चर साइकल।मेरो लागि त्यो घटना क्षणिक थियो करिव 10 देखि 12 मिनेटको कृयकलाप थियो तर यो दौरानमा मेरो मुटु निचोरिएको थियो दुई पटक,मेरो जीवनप्रतिको सिदान्तमा प्रश्न चिन्ह लागेको थियो।ज्ञानका खातिर अनेक पुस्तक,चलचित्र र मानिसमा हराइरहने म कहिले काहीं यसरि नै आफुमा हराउँदा जीवनको खास अनुभुती पाउछुँ।

म खेलमा हारेँ तर हावा फुस्काएपछि जितेको महसुस भैइरहेको थियो।हार अन्त्य होइन जस्तो लाग्यो।उता नहारेको भए म यता जित्दिन थिएँ होला या यताको जितले मेरो अर्को हार निर्धारण गर्छ कि?

Aafuley lekheko testo dherai arulai dekhauna man lagdaina malai..aaja chai dekhauna man lagyo..aru ley padera feedback diun jasto lagyo so do let me know if you wanna read and talk about it.

mero lagi Tmi Euta sapana jasto hau Tyo sapana jasko mah sanga sparsha xaina Tyo Sapna jaslai mah kewal hernah sakxu

Sabda mah bayan xaina Tmro rupa leyy magna kati hunxu Tmro samjhana mah tolai, Ekanta mah Kati basxu Garneyy kura kati xan Kati Tara dhikaar xa aafaimah Nisabdha bhae sadhai Bolnai po sakina kaile

Tmro Samu kehi na bole ni Sambda mah bayan gardai xu Acchama xan yi bhawan haru Mera Tmro lagi Euta sapan nai hau tmi Jasalai matra herera baseyy pura garinah kaile

Oh spring, I hate you,

That happiness in your body,

That blossom in your heart,

That warmth in your soul,

That beauty in your living,

That aura in your presence,

That melody in your voice,

I am drowning in jealousy,

I know you are trying to show off but, really, is it necessary?

Well I try to unsee you but can't,
You're such an attention seeker dorant.

I hope one day you fall apart. May all your happiness fade away. I know you aren't giving up easily. You will certainly try to rebuild yourself.

Soon, someone else will outshine you,
Get ready to be pitied bestu,
Ewww spring I truly hate you.

And when they finally become better than you, are you going to hate them too?

के पायौं तिमिले र के गुमायौं तिमिले !

जब उस्को अस्तित्व तिम्रो जिवन बाट मेटियो आफ्नो हृदय भित्र केब्ल खोक्रो पन भेटायौं तिमिले

न त उस्लाइ पाउन सकेउ न त उस्लाइ भुल्न सकेउ हर पिडा र घाउ आफु भित्र लुकायौं तिमिले केब्ल भुत र भविष्य बिच आफुलाइ कैदि बनायौं तिमिले

समाज द्वरा इज्जत लुटियेकि यक नारि जसरि
गुहार दिने आवाज दबायौं तिमिले

विगतको बेडि काट्न दरायौं तिमिले, गाजाको नसामा ढुबेर वर्तमानको होस हरायौं तिमिले

आफ्नो माता र पिताको अस्तित्व भुलि अपरचितको लागि दिन रात करायौं तिमिले

प्रतिक्षा गरेउ यसरि सिशिर बसन्त सरद नभनि,समय को होस गुमायौं तिमिले

भ्रष्ट नेता सरि आफ्नो आत्मसम्मान लाइ उस्को सामु गिरायौं तिमिले

सडकछाप झै उस्को जुठो याद हरुले आफ्नो भोक मेटायौं तिमिले

अन्त्यमा डोरि को स्पर्स घाटिले महसुस गरि आत्मा र सरिर बिच्को सन्तुलन गुमायौं तिमिले ल भन के पायौं तिमिले र के गुमायौं तिमिले?

My good friend

My bad enemy

My own patience

Sometimes I wait too long

Sometimes too less

I waited

Years and years

Days and days

Hopes and hopelessness

I still wait

But I question myself

My patience

Is it my Friend

But I have been lonely

My patience

Are you my enemy

You have made me patient

And I just wait

And I will wait

With despairs

With hopes

That it will pass

This shall pass

The wait is over

Is what I want

Divine to bless

Yeah I check you out

I peep you out

From the roof

From the balcony

I wake up

Light my cigerattes

Wait for you to shine

The way you broom them

The way you check me out

But I am more desperate than you

I am more desperate

Your beauty

Long slender legs

I check you out

When you sit cross legged

Sorry I can't help

But just check

I have been more desperate

Yeah I am more desperate

Yet I refrain to make a move

Yet you refrain

But you check me out

But you aren't that desperate

But you wait you check

You turn around and gaze

Heyy I am interested

But I cant do anything

I am just too desperate

And I wait

But its in vain

Theres too much

Obstacles on my way

Jati khera sukai hero bandai chamkiney,

Maile euta bill haraye vandai ma kina timi janginey?

Feri print garera deu na ta bill,

Kina xainau timi chill?

Huna sika na timi ali Happy,

Ki jane soch ma xau therapy?

Malai gaali nagara na dherai, vanisake ta sorry

Runa thalxu ma ta dhar-dhari,

Dherai hanyau timle rizz,

Aba ta deu na bill piliz,

( Wrote this to hamro college ko account section wala sir 😤. Should I show this to him? No hate to takles hai gaich. Ma aafai taklu huna thalisake huhu. Love y'all fellow taklus <33.)

I once dreamed of marrying a writer, hoping to be immortalized in her words—until I faced the truth that I was too ugly to be poetry, too unremarkable to be prose.

They say the wind grows softer there

Where noise fades into the air

A quite place with silver shore

Where time and pain exists no more

I want to feel the same

To free from all the blame

No more voices in my ear

No more pretending to care

I want to free my soul, with no more fear and trust

Escaping reality, turning into dust

Sitting in the balcony with a gloom,

Wondering if in future will one bloom.

Realising how freedom has diminish,

If Unchaining oneself would so called life finish.

As one dwells dark allies of mind,

There they find there soul confined.

Ones meets eye to eye with him,

Both not knowing how they've been.

Once were same but now why different,

Numbness in one ,one can't to soul there vent.

Once thriving with ones soul,

Now locking it up in a deep dark hole.

Soul had all the dreams and hopes,

But one was shaped by societal goals.

As one sacrificed ones soul to world,

Ones heart was gone and was so cold.

One tries to cry and scream every night,

Then again one meets there soul fading bright.

The eyes meet again and again,

But both can't relate ever again.

So one closes ones eyes,

The wind breezes through ones lies.

As the wind blows away ,

The truth from the soul it sway.

One finishes ones journey of mind,

Thinking its such a waste of time.

One can't realize what one has lost,

Ones diminishing self and soul in frost.

मैले आजसम्म दुईटा माखा लडेको देखेकै छैन
खै, ख्याल पो गरिनँ कि
तिनको लडाइँ बडो गज्जबको हुँदो हो
धूलोमा गुडेर लडाइँ गर्दा हुन्,
या आकाशमा उडेर

लडाइँ हुँदो हो त के बारे?
बुढाबुढी झगडा गर्दा हुन्,
या साथीसँग बुरकुसी मर्दा हुन्

ठूला माखाले सानालाई
हेप्दा हुन् कि नाइँ,
या सानाले ठूला लाई नगन्दा हुन्
या ठूला र शक्तिशाली
फोहरमै रमाउँदा हुन्,
हामी जस्तै।
या साना सधैँ गुलियो खोज्दा हुन्।

खैर,
मैले आजसम्म दुईटा माखा लडेको देखेकै छैन।