The entire valley trembled that day……




Trembling amidst the high mountains

Kathmanduvalley stood that day.

Rage and wrath under the ground

Tormented the natives who had nothing to say.

Havoc at the heritage sites.

Landmarks reduced to rubble,

leaving behind the relics.

Dust and debris all around,

Cries and commotion all around,

Men left panic-stricken and bereft

Nature, held responsible for this theft.

Atheists and the theists all left wandering,

No technology at length could save

Except giving some ease.

Clouds and rain and the thunder

mourning because of ‘that slander’.

Then came the swarm of bees, buzzing,

Made their hives and occupied the Tribhuwan Airstrip.

The crisis was broadcasted all around the globe

And came some brave and supportive hands

For help and renovation.

Yet the people were uncertain

All aware of the Volpones

That do exist, so lethal, multiple in number

Curious and inquisitive faces

That kept gazing at the hills, all in vain

Probably awaiting for some good times

And stable lives that they long for………..



These mightyHimalayas, The Everest

Are full of wonders

Having the potential to heal and to destruct

The latter so lethal, that I fear.

Yet that smiling infant,

My pen-sister who sent her paintings and hope

And then the young Pemba Lama do inspire.

Kudos to the human might,

The men at work

Their perseverance and their fortitude.

I remember the fear stricken old men

Sipping their morning tea and gossiping at the tea shops,

The Himalayan Times held open in their hands

As if little waving flags with photos and news

Conveying the scale of destruction

The vehicles plying on the road

Refusing to recognize each other

Ground that claims to remain static and still

Quivered time and again

Making that stark fear to return.




Month of April, month of May,

25th of April and 12th of May

Past began to sprout upon me

And that stark terror starts to hover all around

Still that echoing of run-run, aayo-aayo.

But then I try to envision the ancient Kasthamandap,

The time when we had wooden houses,

Would they have caused so much of cataclysm?

Such questions no one can answer.

People slept under the open sky making it the ceiling

Probably fearing that it’s their home

That may turn out to be their grave.

We all did pray, to save

The country where Lord Buddha was born,

ThelandofJanaki, which also is the cult of Mithila

The land of numerous wonders and marvelous sights

Whose people are known for their courage and might.






Templesof unique architecture,

Evidences of the glorious past,

Narrating the tale of a glorious empire.

Dharhara, when shall it again stand?

Those days, that jocundKathmandu

Will it come back again?

That glorious tourist destination

Heart ofNepal,Kathmandu,

Shall pound once again.

Bit by bit and piece by piece

A new prosperingKathmandu

Blessed and cursed by theHimalayas

Added by the zeal and zest of the gurkhas

Waits for the whole world.

The grief of the people shall pass down as Gloomy-tales

To the filial generation, so they could

Learn and prepare for the upcoming time.

And says Shelley in one of his poems:

“If winter comes, can spring be far behind”

And Dagoankar in one of his song:

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise again”






– Mayank (The Morningstar)

(Written on the first anniversary of Nepal Earthquake.)