My entry into literature was fuelled by my concern for the necessary introduction of the human regime. My philosophy of life has no other motif besides making myself committed to writing. The philosophy through which I look at life—through the prism of literature—is to peek within, and by making use of that element, transform the world into a beautiful human settlement. By doing so, I aspire to explore peace and happiness for the entire human race from the knowledge of life and soul within me. For me, literature has become an element of experimentation. My experimentation is always directed toward exploration and discovery of newness.
Newer thoughts evolved together with the establishment of new existence of human society and the new structure of its identity. My writing has consistently hinged on world peace, freedom, democracy and exploration of newer dimensions of human concern. I summarily reject everyone who declared the death of God and tried to create an emotional fervor in vain.
In writing, I have taken up various genres. If my subject is serious enough, I choose poetry. If I am obliged to depict reflections of human character, I pick up stories. When my emotions and thoughts are engaged in a conflict, I write plays. I am inclined to giving the world honesty, and nothing besides that. I have no other truth bigger than poetry. Poetry, for me, is the cosmic wisdom, and the poet an omniscient being. My poetry is the realization of the same cosmic self.
My ambition is to reach the humankind. I shall continue with the attempt, together with my thoughts as long as all roads leading to the human kind are not completely devastated. I shall, at all cost, safeguard the relation I bear with the ground and the human. Call it my gut or my vow to the world, all I have with me is a pen. With utmost honesty, I receive the time Gopal Parajuli, the poet inside me, has spared to grant me freedom to make use of the pen.
It is true that the gun has attacked the world. It also is true that such assaults have alerted the world. The world that left me silent stands ahead of me, and even at this moment, I am aware that I should turn and look back at the world. Personally speaking, I have no enemy, but I won’t choose to stoop before the enemy of the humankind either. Though I am silent, I am in charge of something that gives me articulation. All that has come in front of the world, together with my thoughts, is my prayer only.
I want to verbally confess the fact that the motif of the writer in me has always been focused on the protection of all concerns connected with human sensibilities. I want to see in my poetry the world that gives me a place to stand on, albeit in silence. The bruises besetting the world have also hurt me. How long can I look at the world, standing as witness to the picture of my own murder executed by those picking up arms and also by those refraining from doing so? This is a test I put myself to. I don’t want to see myself passing or failing the test. But my conviction is that one who looks at both the earth and the sky should not kill humankind and God. I, who appeal to move the human toward God and God toward the human, should not land on a graveyard or at Aryaghat dying of someone’s gunshot before having a look of the savior of the world. I don’t know how the world takes my rebellion and struggle against death. Nor am I willing to know anything else besides writing. I don’t think the gun will easily disappear from the world, either. But I do have the willingness to see myself fighting against those who pick the weapon I have relinquished to fight back at myself. I, seated in the ‘Zone of Silence’ hope that the world will grant me this much of freedom at least. My thoughts do not put restrictions inside or outside the border. I am aware of the fact that love needs no criticism. I also know that my poems are a residue of love. I want to go, bequeathing the same to the world. I know nothing more than this as the motif of my picking up a pen. Through my poems, I want to see the existence of my life at a time when I am moving ahead stepping on my own life, after every inch of the earth has been filled with arms. I want to see an uncontested reflection of the world that came and settled down in my life.
Poetry, for me, is the celebration of festivity I observe for being alive until this time. At this moment, I declare my connectivity with the entire universe, and express the fact that I am making myself ready to witness the sight of the world waiting for peace. I cannot, at this moment, tell how this day will explain to the humankind the silent tribulations in my sensibilities. My act of siding with or abandoning people in the world is merely for discharging my obligations as a writer. Having left the world deterred by its terror, when I found myself inside my poetry, I have dug out a cave in it to stay therein. It matters little if anyone sees me or not inside the cave. All I wish for is that, let others leave me in peace inside my cave.
Poetry rejects directives to write this way or that. My poetry is nothing but a petition of an innocent infant. I know the infant will not get deterred even if someone shows him weapons.
I want to see the man inside me in a new vision. Through the same vision, I want to see the invisible artist inside me. I landed in literature pursuing the same artist. There is no beginning or end of an artist. I want to take all my mental activities and transactions and leave them in eternity. It can be through poetry, or through something else. If an artist has no end, there is no death either. For the artist in me, death is an imaginary thing. I consider that through literature I can give ideas in favor of life and not death. I can also do the same through my non-literary life. I want to connect my artist with poetry, and my non-literary life with the grand artist. I want to connect the authorial I inside me with creation, and the non-literary I with the grand creator in order to safeguard my life. From all quarters, I reject the word ‘death’ for myself. For a writer, being dead or forgotten is a transitory thing. I don’t believe in such ephemeral things.
Peace is my vision. I have settled my mind in peace. My eyes too. I have abandoned someone in order to embrace someone else. And that ‘someone’ is none but the world. And the world is the belief of my creation. I have some commitments to make before the world and before myself:
You should not be disheartened if any of your phone calls is not responded. A wound should not be repeatedly caressed. There is balm for every bruise. There is armor to fend every gunshot. People walking on the footpaths are sometimes knocked by moving vehicles. Often, bad hands touch people who are speaking the truth. Even Taliban comes to poke. Sometimes the IS. We should not stop walking even with one leg, if the other is wounded. The world also abounds in people who want to disrupt the peace of Jesus, Mohammad and the Buddha. There are people who strike at Krishna and come forward with false justifications. You should never move a no-confidence motion against the world no matter who on earth hits you, who considers himself great merely to strike at you, or the earth changes into water soaked by your blood. You should never die, even if you lie in a graveyard or burn at Aryaghat. The moon will shine till the end of the world. The sun will shine too. And an artist will last beyond them. You should move in order to keep the world going. You should never lay your hand on weapons.
A call for death
Can come only out of Hitler’s mouth
Death is not a reality
I will see if in the world I have imagined the human will be able to stay with his strength or not.