Beautiful, quiet giant! I can’t say
Turn the map of the globe and see the magnitude of Nepal. It looks like a sack that encloses with a drawstring. This little piece looks like a small room on the Himalayan mountain line. How many countries and nations have not heard its name. This green of peace shows more interest in hiding itself. He likes solitude. He prefers to meditate and go to the Ganges and the snow-capped mountains, rather than to take part in the sweating of the world.
Despite the curiosity, it is a priest of antiquity. By playing hide and seek till today, he wants to dream of yesterday’s golden morning. It is small but it is heaven, it is small but it has eyes, it has legs but the world itself is far away but the divine magic of distance. There are few who can find the heart of Mother India, because it is hidden deep inside the mountains.
The diamond is small, the pearl is small, the gem is small, the sweet-spoken baby is small, the pupil of the eye is small. The center of the heart is the smallest. It may be a small vertex of the earth, but bliss is concentrated like the point of Okar. What is small, what is big? In this world, if you call a star big, the eternal sky looks like a juniper. In a nutshell, the grains of sand, in a nutshell, are being used by microscopes and science to illuminate the world. In the world, there is a difference between the two perspectives, big and small, one physical, one spiritual.
If someone told me that China is bigger than Nepal, then I would like to laugh when I hear that elephants are bigger than people. I don’t count the size of the field as large as the amount of soil, only its quality, condition, yield and emotional impact. Shakuntala of British Kalidasa seems to be very big. ‘Damn, read Nepali too? Our young writer Kanikuthi Bokra writes. ‘ I like to see the opposite hypocrisy.
Let the sun not set on English lovers, but I find that magic in the Nepali word, ‘Who is it!’ I will be happier than the beautiful epic poems of ‘Ko Ho’, the simple natural poetry of Nepal Pahad, the anti-grammatical, heartfelt natural poetry. I want to listen to ‘Singing Queen’.
We want to show how much the foreign country has dragged us down by smashing the imitation words of other people’s mother tongue. Khirkhiraumchha, which does not meet the wire but kiringmiring.
Some say Hindi, some say Bengali, I say, the words of the blue mountains, the immortal baimatra, the letters flying and speaking with the birds. My language may not be widely spread, but this is my indrani bhatana. Yes, Nepal 1 Wagner is digging here, Shakespeare is plowing, Tisian and Turner are grazing sheep, Socrates may be digging in the cave. Sando brings me a heavy load of firewood. The world has never heard of Helen in my forest.
How heartwarming it is today to understand the natural Vedas of the canals! What a wonderful view of the sunrise here in Kantipuri! Don’t the little birds speak immortal valleys in the sky of the heart? Are the particles of love, like the fragrant pearls of the cold, dripping on the chest of the rose, which are digging inside me, small? If there is one in the world, Nepal is the land where the so-called true Aryan spirit, which can produce such human sentiments and keep the Bagmati playing in the calm fluid flow, always awakening the divine culture in the heart. This is because the smoke from the factory does not allow waves like the spider’s web to play in the polluted atmosphere.
Plenty of childhood, new discoveries and its magic, the Nepali heart is alive with the vibrancy and ice of true Aryan sentiments due to the influence of Nepali climate and food and drink, and in other countries, I have never seen such an animal of emotional innocence and simplicity. For those who are not Nepali and want to imitate, hot brains are boiling in empty dissatisfaction. Where the heart of a native is touched by the sight of a Nepali, the foreigner falls into the dark maze of empty science.
Here the glimpses of God are scattered everywhere, knowledge is not found in the darkness of conscience. Knowledge is more valuable than science, people do not remember their pride in discovering the rules of blind conscience by putting blind device in the root, superstition is turning a blind eye to their superstition, but alas! Hi! Nepali heart! What in the world would be a more beautiful, quiet living thing? I find everything there, where the creatures were found, my soul awoke and opened its eyes for the magic of human life. I see the totality of the human world. I do not see anything of beauty that I do not find in Nepal.
This sacred magic of the Himalayas is the idol of Nepali clay that I am – who was awakened by the light of life shining through the light of heaven – this man has eternity in Nepal. There is a subtle reflection of everything that can and does happen on Earth. A sample of the polar regions in the winter scene, a sample of the non-protective countries in the summer rain scene can be seen here. Here are all the climates, here are the Hanged Gardens of Babylon – Bhulan Bagh, here are the three hundred Niagara Falls, the Great Wall of China is the blindness of not being in seven wonders. The glittering silver Gauri Shankar Palace is still in sight.
What’s not here I wonder, isn’t it? Heaven is above it and hell is below it. Isn’t God dancing all day long and in front of human beings like Junkori? Then I repeat, ‘What’s not here? The miracle of heaven or the perfection of earth? The lines, the colors and the shadows and the fringes, the glitter of the peaks, the earth is not found in the same sweet and charming plain.
The grounds are dull like a monotonous lattice, the picture is taken, but the landscape of the hilly country has a sweetness of variety, the colors here are dark and juicy, there is informativeness, which is the heart of poetry and music, life here does not look like a monotonous dark road. It boasts, but it is like a blank slate, there is true painting in every slate.
Sitting on the corner of a mountain and looking, looking at two or three, two or three worlds can be seen from the same place. I like sun, drizzle and fog. The earth is such a granary, with such colorful variations of beauty, where a mountain is a living world, a world full of birds, deer and tigers, where the human heart looks strangely terrified, where the divine speech in the canal, where the letters are childish pictures and actions Not being made? Closer to home, his glory and height are intertwined, the sons of the plowman have a genius in their minds, and his fantasies abound, most poets are born near the flower garden, great men near the mountain. Most of the people become monks with the faces of milk-sucking cubs. Feelings of being serious in the forest are being expressed.
While I am in Nepal, I can enjoy the forest, but I forget about Calcutta. Mountains and songs have a constant relationship, like speech and meaning. Emotions can be corrected by the music of the ever-expanding hillside, as the primary harmonizing effects of conflicted human hearts are found there. These leaves are turning green, they are running in the heart.
Then why don’t I write Vishal? The feeling of ‘giant’ was in the breath of the Himalayas, in the blue of the mountains, in the abundant benevolence of nature, my world of exploration, where I am evolving from a human being to a perfect human being whom childhood considered to be all eternity, I am young consciousness! When I sit under the peeping song of the peepal of the mountain, I feel the sensation of vastness, when I go to the forest and wander in silence for a while, then I say to my friend, What a great feeling came to me, wherever it is, there is nothing more peaceful in Nepal than the giant. ‘ The more you increase the area, the thinner it is. I learn cosmopolitanism in the motherland, not in the world.
Motherland love, the importance of Nepal is known to the girkhagirkhas of my mind, be in the heart Zilikk Zilikk Nepal, if I were in the eternal far corner of the world now, I would answer the question of any traveling Gandharva – ‘Who are you?’ – ‘Nepal’. When death descended from heaven, I would also answer the question, “What do you want?” – “Nepal’s well-being.” Whether it’s heaven or roar, don’t tell me the pride of other countries, my heart knows. Where is my diamond and how beautiful it is! Laugh out loud. But I say that in my motherland there is that Aryan civilization, which can bring spiritual nourishment to the world for a great age. May the crown of others be on my head, may the crown of my country be on my heart.
Foreign is a dream, a fairy tale, unseen, unintelligible, external, which does not fall within my horizon. There is nothing bigger than a sphere above the sky, and he does not remember what is the use of understanding a small part of this empty giant, But to the inhabitants of the earth, the sun is considered to be the life-giver of the white rap. My homeland is my world, my misery, my truth, my only existence.
When I am abroad, I am watching movies and dramas. When I am at home, I am experiencing life. Writers who say that patriotism is a narrow quality have taken up the pen out of disgust with today’s society. But everything learned by imitating Thakur Baba is developed in the country and those who only know the love of their caste, their nation, build a house on the sand. They are more useless than my clouds. If the artistic publication of living experiences is literature, then one who is not a true Nepali cannot write Nepali literature. Every scene and perceived object of Nepal is taking self-expression through various actions in the form of thoughts, feelings and memories.
I do not write on the basis of the relationship between the elements of public faith and ethnic welfare, I am the writing Nepal, I do not speak, I am the speaking Nepal, I do not think, the perceptible visual and audio material effects of Nepal are the immortal element within me. Receiving new glimpses and messages through these materials, continues its service path.
