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Grey Sparrow Journal and Press, as of January 31, 2018 will move to

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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Before Making Decisions



In how many minds 

Should I go crazy?

Whom should I ask?


Should I continue to hop

Like drops

That jump up

After water

Flowing from spout

Hits the ground,

Or remain transfixed

Like a stone under the selfsame spout

That despite being lashed

By an incessant flow

Doesn’t even budge?


Which eyes should I look for

To find the ultimate

Unreasoned answer?


Should I ask everyone the question

That should not have been asked?

Or Should I

Turning up to the sky

Be answering the question

That’s not been asked?


In this atmosphere

Where you have to go

Perennially crazy

Only to survive,

Which auspicious moment

Should I choose to become mad?



I didn’t ask any head

Like core of lapsi[1] fruit

Hiding no seed inside,

Didn’t ask for an auspicious moment

To a judgement like leaves of taanki[2] tree.


A dew drop as always

Was reveling all night with a flower

Taking a taste of alcohol,

Naked morning sunray too

Worshipped after diving in the river.


That effervescence

Finished after a short while

Like cotton fleece ultimately

Turning into cloud.


Without asking anybody’s advice

I made myself insane

Sitting under the same sun

And the same clouds.


I believed all along

One day

Everyone would go mad

Just to see me sane.

                        Suman Pokhrel

                        (Translated from Nepali by Abhi Subedi)



[1]Nepali hog plum of the mountainous region.

[2] A common Nepali fodder tree.