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KALI PRASAD RIJAL
Lyricist.

Born: March 22, 1940 at Dharan.

ADDRESS

    Cha 1/533, Ward no. 6
    Bouddha Mahankal
    Pani Pokhari Kathmandu
    Nepal.
    Ph: 977 -1- 470779
    977 - 1-470278
    arijal@wlink.com.np

IMPORTANT WORKS:

  • Jwarbhata (Poetry)
  • Rijal Ka Kehi Kavita (Poetry)
  • Ke Chha Ra Jindagi Bitai Dinchhu (Collection of Poems and Lyrics )
  • Hindi Translation of B.P. Koirala's novel "Sumnima"
  • Kehi Geet Kehi Gazal (Collection of Lyrics and Gazal)

HONOURS:

  • Trishakti Patta
  • Royal Nepal Academy Award
  • Pragya Puraskar
  • Chhinna Lata Puraskar
  • Harihar Shastree-Savitree Devi Puraskar

       

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

       

     

     

     

     

     
     
     

      

            

    The Runaway Statues

    One day
    When the evening was closing in,
    I saw with surprise
    The statues which were positioned inside Tundikhel
    Alight from their cast - iron steeds
    And , walking out of the main gate,
    Mingled with the mass of men and women
    Who were walking on the pavement
    Or crossing the street.

    I was struck dumb
    The street was like a river
    With the turbulent current of people
    Surging forward , eddying and meandering
    In noisy waves
    Through the cross roads and intersections,
    And bifurcating at various points
    To enter the lanes and byways
    The posts and railings of Tundikhel
    Remained where they were
    The cement work sentries
    Were at their posts
    In a state of full alert.
    Only the statues had gone out of sight
    Only they had absconded.

    Since then my inquisitive eyes
    Have never ceased to wander over the faces of men
    In search of the runaway statues.
    Be it in a procession , public meeting or polling booth,
    Be it a government office, hospital or court of justice.
    I scan each face.
    I scrutinise it closely.
    But I cannot be sure
    Whether it's a man or a statue
    I go through the process over again,
    And get bewildered more and more.
    In some faces
    I see glass eyes winkling away steadily ;
    In others I see stone lips
    Parting in a ferric smile
    At some places I see someone
    Standing solemnly like a statue;
    I see a man of stone,
    Sitting motionless on a chair,
    Some lifeless hands scrawling something,
    And some lifesize figures
    Examining the patients

    Whatever I do
    However hard I try,
    I cannot distinguish
    Between a man and a statue
    I am not sure which is which.
    When I look at a man
    I feel as if it were a statue:
    And when I look at a statue,
    I feel as if it were a man
    And sometimes I wonder
    Whether this country is not run by statues.

    - translated by Pirtha Raj Tuladhar

     

     
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