A Decrepit Map

Callused skin on my body Ruptured by the cruel nature Like a deserted and dry riverbed In a summer Is the native soil, my Rolpa and Rukum My mutilated soil Maimed by landmines This callus on my soil Cannot be cut away by surgery And then be tossed away, Like lifeless hairs Stuck on the porcelain sinkhole rim. Ghostly lizard crawls On the dusty mirror Hanging in the dirty wall Of a dilapidated room Where only emptiness Catapults the carnal beauty Of the mute image Hidden under the layers of dust Reveal my wounded Rolpa and Rukum Like a decrepit map Ripped by too many folds Scratched and perforated by the worms. The awful pain has butterflies In my eyes Of sullen And morose sky. April 30, 2004 (Rolpa and Rukum, the two remote districts in Far Western Nepal, affected by the Maoist’s People War)