Maichangs in a Black Hole | Bina Theeng

 - Bina Theeng

Translated by Hem Bishwakarma

To wake up with birds

To sing bird's song

To run a Marathon to water tap

To grind the fortune in a grinding-stone

Or, husk themselves persistently

On a mortar of grief

All are the routine of Maichangs[1]

Maichangs breastfeed to their children

Not the milk-- the blood

Sturdy their thighs

But wither and slender they

Tangle their bones to a ghum[2]

That covers them in the monsoon-

While plantation into tears

As if the tears are soft mud

Tears are sharp enough

That they use to cut grass

Collect firewoods

Tears are the palms

That they use to clean up the dunghill

And rinse their anxieties 

For the years,

They tuned the primitive notes

And played the damphu[3]

Chorused the selo[4]

Visited to the bazaar of their body

And walked nonstop seeking a luminosity

They still walk

Yet, I want to ask

Why does not appear

The line of prosperity

On the palms of Maichangs?

Why does not appear apparent

A canal of contentment?

This all are broken on their hands

As if they were fragmented 

With the relatives while walking

And they happened to reach a cliff

While growing the chock; shoots sprout

Catching the fringe of chock-life

Maichangs ready passports

Strive for the visas

Then reach a black hole

Where the dreams reach

Then disappear to its dark.

Bina Theeng Tamang (1980) is a Nepali educator, writer and poet from Kathmandu, Nepal. She is best known for her short stories and poems. She has published Chhuki, a Short story collection, Rato Ghar, a Poetry collection and Yambunera, a Short story collection. She is also an awardee of the National Poem Competition

[1] Maichang refers to a girl, preferably a younger girl.

[2] A covering made up of bamboo strips and leaves

[3] A hand-drum played by Tamang

[4] A Tamang song