| WRITERS AND THEIR WORKS |
DHUSHWAN
SAYAMI
Newari Author.
Born: May 24, 1930 at Jhochhen Tole, Nepal.
ADDRESS
5/114, Jhochhen,
Kath (B.Z.)
Ph: 271278.
IMPORTANT
WORKS:
HONOURS:
Received prestigious award for the contribution in the development of
Newari literature
Dhushwan Sayami
August 28. Midnight?!
Really, yes really
How happy were those days, those moments
In those days whilst we not coming close and
nearby
We used to walk together, live together
Not even a tinge of doubt in the mind
Not even a slightest suspicion
Nor were there
Any fear unseen, nor being afraid of.Coming quite close together as such
Has proved to be a curse
For both of us,
Has become obstacles.
Now, just now
Endeavouring to be away and far away from me
Whiling away your time
The time of your share,
And me too
Musing over, pondering over
Worthless, unneccesary
And meaningless musing
The time of my share
Wasting, wasting on and on
It pinches me now
That allowing you to come close by me
Was my blunder terrible;
Receiving your acceptance
for this intimacy
the mirth and glee that I experienced then;
Today that very thing
has come to become a default of my life
More than the thought of this loss and deficit
Cannot I fetch them back in my mind.
Yes,
More and more than this now
I cannot make me stay on and on
At this centre-point
And
want not to translate your love
into the hate;
and thus
Have finalised the decision
To live
by extending the distance further far further
away
without being slipped in and in.
August 29. 3:25 a.m.
The search,
To be liberated from fetters, to be independent,
used to provide me
Yet a new bondage.Emotion was there
I adopted you when,
with emancipation
But my slavery today
being tied up in your peg
Has come to become more and more lush and green.Comprehensives was after all brimful
even in that stage of shuttling in and out
my friend,
By narrowing down by now
That has been limited.
(Just) by your side around.Narrow-mindedness is becoming
the heart of my life,
that used to ache and become restless
for many, many more
Today
That is exciting
Just for you alone.Like tattered and battered attire
Like the scattered clouds of the evening
My mind is shrinking
Being divided one.I cannot utter a single word to
The age,
For,
I myself have become unable by now
to know myself
I have become L'Estranger even for my own self.
- translated by Indu Jain and Harihar Raj Joshi
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