Bijay GurungSnippets | The BhanjyangIt’s quiet. Except for the distant sound of buses trudging up the windy ways of the hill, carrying mostly merry picnic-goers (some will…Mar 15, 2021Mar 15, 2021
Bijay GurungWords And WallsI hide behind walls of words, Stack them on top of each Other, place them side by side. Pensive pens and troubled trowels Glue them…Mar 17, 2020Mar 17, 2020
Bijay GurungLines In The Tunnel DarkDown the stairway a human Waterfall falls and flows Straight through the turnstile Never turning, Never uncertain, Always sure, lost Faces…Feb 7, 2020Feb 7, 2020
Bijay GurungThe PuddleI’m now convinced! Life is a six-year-old Playing in an after-rain puddle, And half-a-dozen small streams in the playground, Muddying the…Feb 4, 2020Feb 4, 2020
Bijay GurungThe SpilledIf wishes could be wishes true, I would wish for a refill In the shapeless cup of my ceramic life, Of the elixir I have spilled and…Jan 31, 2020Jan 31, 2020
Bijay GurungSnippets | Music, InsideWe shuffle in. The theatre is a room, a canvas of shadows and hushes. The musician is perched atop a chair in the middle. There are…Nov 8, 2019Nov 8, 2019
Bijay GurungSnippets | The HospitalEverything is the same. The creamy beds are the same, the blue bed-sheets, the red blankets, the reports, the thick pungent smell, the…Jun 25, 2019Jun 25, 2019
Bijay GurungSnippets | The CourtyardThe evening breeze dances into the courtyard, playing with the prayer flags lining the north-west section. Colorful murals adorn the…Jun 17, 2019Jun 17, 2019
Bijay GurungSnippets | The GolferIt was a strange sight. Almost ninety — white hair, with the slight hunch that senescence brings — he was trudging down the street…Jun 13, 2019Jun 13, 2019
Bijay GurungSnippets | NarayangadhThe sun is about to set. It’s the end of the day. We are in the middle of the Narayani River on a motorboat. The oppressive heat has made…Jun 4, 2019Jun 4, 2019
