The Young Writer

Voting is an important part of every democracy, as it is an equally important responsibility and duty of a responsible citizen living within a democracy. It often feels that our one vote is useless, that it means nothing. So why even bother?       While not untrue, it's not just one vote. It is the ONE vote that can form a sea of ONE and ONE and ONE and ONE and ONE and drive a sea of change.  However, casting a vote isn’t as easy as it seems, not just for first-time voters, but for all voters. With so many candidates to choose from, with so many parties to keep track of and manifestos to read, keeping track, let alone being aware and informed about the flood of candidates, parties and policies, is not always possible.  What, then, must we do? Do we just vote for the candidate that is brand-spanking-new or is a friend of a friend of a friend? Or do we favour the candidate with the most clout or who belongs to a party that we favour? This is no ea...

I. Dressed in grey shorts and a maroon T-shirt with an almost empty black backpack, I walk along the footpath by the Sanchaykosh Bhawan . There’s barely any space left along the sidewalk. People from across Kathmandu have thronged to Thamel today, at Durbar Square –a kilometre away— another group have gathered to commemorate the dead. I have decided, instead, to be a part of Nepal’s first Pride Parade. A sense of joy, a sense of pride is welling up in my chest, I have been a part of something historic. I have become, by participating in the parade, an ally of the LGBTIQ+ community. Instead of getting lost in a centuries-old tradition, I once loved as a child, I have become a part of the birth of a new tradition that celebrates the living and not the dead. The “progressive” in me is happy, wondering why people have issues when other people do not live their lives according to what society considers “normal” and acceptable.  The surrounding is festive. Bright, wide smiles. Rainbow Fl...

Inside the Tomaquag Museum Indigenous communities worldwide, be it in America or here in Nepal, have suffered great injustices at the hands of colonialist settlers.  This visit to Tomaquag Museum in Exeter, Rhode Island, during my Cultural Exchange Program sponsored by RELO— Regional English Language Office, and facilitated by the University of Rhode Island, was one of the most powerful experiences I've ever had. The rosetinted view I had of the American Revolution and Democracy had to come to terms with the reality of the American Indigenous experiences.   The Declaration of Independence, which is said to enshrine the democratic values of individual rights, equality and sovereignty, and is seen as one of the most important documents in the history of modern democracy, to the people of the Narragansett and the Niantic Nations, it symbolizes oppression, injustice, dehumanisation, and seizure of indigenous land, erasure of people and their cultural identity. The Narrag...

यो देशमा— कहाँ छ विश्वास? कहाँ छ भरोसा? व्यापार व्यवसाय गर तिमी दलाल पुँजीपति। सरकारी कार्यालयमा जागिर खाउ तिमी भ्रष्ट कर्मचारी। राजनीतिमा लाग तिमी नेता र झोले। सामाजिक रुपान्तरणमा लाग, तिमी डलरे विदेशी एजेन्ट। जागिर मात्रै खाउ जोखिम तिमीले मोलेनौ। कहाँ छ यो देश? गर्ने के यहाँ? गुमेको त्यो विश्वास, त्यो भरोसा—  फर्किन्छ कसरी? रगतले लिप्त, विद्वंश पश्चात उदाएका  ती आशाका  झिना किरणहरू बलिदान, पीडा र वेदनाले जुर्मुराएका  ती आशाका  झिना किरणहरू कालो, अनाकान्टार अन्ध्येरो रात्री पश्चात उदाएका  ती झिना  आशाका  किरणहरू आगो र ज्वालाको आँधीबेरीलाई चिरेर उदाएका  ती झिना  आशाका  किरणहरू। रगतले सिँचित  ती आशाका किरणहरूमाथि, धावा नबोल! विश्वासको बिउसित  खेल नखेल्!

Poetry is emotion Poetry is sadness Poetry is rage But now I avoid pain And I avoid rain.

"Be proud! ", you say, " Of this never conquered land" "How lucky you are to have birthed in the land of the Buddha" "Of having shared the roof with the towering Everest! " "Be grateful to the Kings that built this proud nation! " You didn't have your language forced off of you Your culture stripped off, History torn apart, burned and trampled on You didn''t have your story rewritten to nothingness You didn't have your blood shed into a river Only to be valued less than a drop of water You didn't have your skin fleshed threadbare to the bones And had it replaced with that of the oppressors And, yet when I say I  only want as much as what had been snatched away, That I want to stand shoulder to shoulder, That no more will I crawl beneath you, That no more will I be kept silent You call me a traitor, You brand me an inciter of violence in this garden of peace, In this garden of "unity in diversit...