Sunny August Afternoon in Kathmandu

Updated: 4 days ago

Written by Bhuwan Thapaliya.

On a sunny August afternoon

in Kathmandu, I heard the whine of sirens.

Looking up from my laptop screen,

I saw ambulances careering up

the punctured streets

as the wounded city

continues to show

the ravages of its lost dreams

muffled by the canopy

of the uncertainties.

Broken limbs of hope

were all over the streets.

The scale of financial strain,

gigantic.

Despair, in some ways,

had just begun.

I slowly lowered by head

and closed my eyes.

The air above me was thick

with the spirit of the living dead.

“This is between you and me,”

my spirit said in a hushed voice suddenly.

The virus is ruthless but it will go away soon.

Don’t let it erode your core.

I opened my eyes and gradually

stood up from my chair

and in the distance I saw

a skinny chameleon

scratching itself in the Sun.

And nearby squirrels

were pampering themselves

on the branches of a guava tree.

They say time heals

a lot of wounds, a lot of wounds.

This time, it’s going to be difficult.

There are deep, systemic things

that we need to fix.

Time can’t fix it for us

and it never will.

Our future may hinge

on our ability

to heal the wounds ourselves

and don’t depend upon the time

to heal it for us, always.



Nepalese poet, Bhuwan Thapaliya is the author of four poetry collections. He is currently working on a fresh poetry collection, titled "The Marching Millions". His main theme often hinges around the globalization of love, hope, peace and universal solidarity. He has read his poetry across the country and abroad. His poems and articles have been widely published in various journals, newspapers and anthologies all over the world.

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