That Sinful Saturday Poem by Purushottam Dhakal

That sinful Saturday
A play of the nature
But couldn’t become pleasant
To the humans.

Limitless possibilities
That couldn’t remain in the earth’s belly
Burst out
But that sinful Saturday
Yasodha did not give birth to Krishna
Like Kauravas
The waves of the earthquake turned disastrous
To my fellow people.

A few drops of tears
The inevitable aching
And the labour pain
A mother gives birth to a divine son
But that sinful Saturday
Death knocked all the hearts
Or, the Himalayan tree called Nepal
Produced nothing but death.

I can’t call it a death crop
But that play of yours
Probably is a divine apocalypse
To transform my fellow people
From sin to religiosity
On that sinful Saturday!

Killing my brothers and friends
That sinful Saturday
Left behind tears and the cries
But I didn’t want to call you a sinner
Because I’m aware
This cycle of nature continues
Yesterday, today and tomorrow
O Earth, do tell me
Did that labour pain of yours
Give birth to a brave son
In my country, of my faith?

Your labour pain
Has continued in the nature since time immemorial
In my country that lacks a divine son
Tell me O God!
On that sinful Saturday
Did Yasodha give birth to Krishna?