Poem by Bhuwan Thapaliya

Buckwheat husks

A flock of dehydrated birds
suddenly fell from the sky,
bellies hollow, wings frail,
beaks open against
the famine-worn wind.

Below, the fields lie cracked,
dry buckwheat husks scattered,
like forgotten dreams decomposing in the dust.

The air trembled
with the shrieks of starved children,
ribs pressing against withered skin,
like the frail walls of a bombarded house
waiting to collapse.

Desperate mothers stirred empty vessels,
sobbing to their ancestral deities,
while weary fathers walked endless miles,
chasing water and food.

And then,
she knelt among the fallen birds,
cupping them gently,
as if holding the last embers of life.

Her fingers, thin as candle wicks,
scattered grains of unseen buckwheat.

With a mantra,
she breathed life into the windless air,
and one by one,
the birds rose--
their wings slicing
through the stillness of despair.

I stood,
mouth dry as the barren earth,
feeling small,
like a child
watching a goddess
stitch the torn sky.

How I wished
she could revive me like the birds.
How I wished
she could drift my hunger away.

How I wished
her touch could quench my thirst,
her smile could fill my stomach
in this famine-ravaged land.

​She looked at me,
eyes kind yet weary,
and shyly smiled--
her smile fluttered,
like prayer flags
weathered by the winds of the Himalayas.

---

Bhuwan Thapaliya is a poet from Kathmandu, Nepal. He has authored five poetry collections, including his most recent work, Slipping into Another World, published by Ukiyoto, and Safa Tempo: Poems New and Selected, published by Nirala Publications, New Delhi. Beyond his writing, he actively engages with the global literary community, having read his work and attended seminars in countries such as South Korea, India, the United States, Thailand, Cambodia, and his native Nepal.

---