Often I breathe more dust than air in Kathmandu,
I am a swallow struggling in a snare in Kathmandu.
The streets are flooded with people, all strangers
To me, my life’s only barren and bare in Kathmandu.
Evil meets evil in every nook and cranny, damn!
I have learned to curse and swear in Kathmandu.
The hunger of the huddled huts by the Bagmati river
Moans mutely, we all stand and stare in Kathmandu.
The dark, toxic blood of this city runs through my veins,
I am perishing, send me a prayer in Kathmandu.
Sometimes I ask why I still live in this dank city,
Am I a lunatic for buying a house here in Kathmandu?
Life slithers like sewage-filled rivers of the valley,
Bibek, will your ghazal get you anywhere in Kathmandu?
Poetry by Bibek
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Written on 2018-04-06 at 13:48
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