Kanchi Hai Kanchi - Part 1

Many years ago people living in rural Nepal and some living in Nepali communities in India engaged in musical game where two singing groups engage in lyrical (couplet) interaction. We called them Juhari" (जुहारी) and "Dohori" (दोहोरी). Although "Dohori" is the more common term,it is also called "Juhari", particularly in the context of live performances or competitions. There is no specific date marking the origin of these folk songs, nor a single place it can trace back to. It has lived as an oral tradition. I have taken a bold decision to introduce it into my story. From what I have heard, my paternal grandparents used to sing Dohari and I still remember a few lines my late grandmother used to hummed. I hope my audience will embrace my creative choice and enjoy thìs narrative.Sound editing- Pankaj Shastri BGM Flute: Sujan Lama; BGM Sad Flute: Selim Reza

Kanchi Hai Kanchi- Part 1A young woman crosses invisible border to seek freedom and hope in a new sanatorium . Clinging on to her is her toddler son and a past she cannot escape. The tale of Muglan retold, through Dohari and Jhawre songs. This time I took the liberty to introduce a historical figure into my story.Sound mixing courtesy - Pankaj ShastriBGM- Fate BelieverPC- Das Studio, Darjeeling

Dreams by Langston Hughes

Trees by Joyce Kilmer

Be Glad Your Nose is on Your FaceBy Jack PrelutskyAs an ESL teacher teaching English to non native speakers, poems are the essence of language. Any language that be, poetry holds beauty of that language. I make this poem mine for a minute and hold these words in my mouth. I make this language mine for a minute and return it back to its owner. Xoxo

Did I tell you that I have fallen for EdnaOr her wordsOr her art,Or just a fragmentA part.Does it qualify as an inclination Or a crush.To say fallen- is defeat.To love someoneIs indeed.A loss of self-To deplete.So much so thatWe human can only empty ourselves to a limit.To the last brink.I must confess-We come back to fill ourselves to brim.- S. Thapa

Years ago I heard a wonderful recitation of Sonnet no XVII by Tom O’Bedlam and yesterday the night sky compelled me to read this sonnet. You can hear the thunder at the background. It’s time to revive this channel

Another Reddit find

Found this poem on Reddit and absolutely fell in love with the words

“Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. “