Vicissitudes Realized Poem by RUP POKHAREL

He breaks his comatose sleep
Wakes up with coy eyes
Looks hurried in quest of error
To appreciate the world at rise.
He stands in front of a long mirror
And looks at it and weeps.

He opens his mouth wide
Counts teeth and says thirty-two
And recites Medical science says
An adult has thirty-two, and I do….
Epics say- he is the luckiest if so possesses
And asks- as of epics- does it abide?

Ha….ha…ha…am I lucky to be bold?
He laughs benignly in all his vocal.
He opens his uncared file
Bearing his degrees cert. and laurels
Speaks to them and gives eerie smile
I wish I were told
When I was four
You become a doctor
For needy, a philanthropist.
Me…..Oh God! Philanthropist, a doctor! !
Yah, for sure I'm a true moralist
What should I seek more?


He then blames antsy part of his
And lies flat on his bed
Rolls hither and thither
Starts pondering touching his head
What I really lack my maker?
With all pride he speaks
I am an ingenious teacher
Teacher… a guru… a true guide.
He salutes his jane sais quoi and brain
Still looks insatiate, finds him in onerous side
And utters in alfresco again
Who opened the Pandora's Box to pester?



Question resounds within the four walls, glued
He sits and bows his head low
Perhaps, to visualize the visages
Of his exs. the loved duo.
He then only realizes
How devilish is the lust for evil fluid?

He speaks ‘Enough….Enough… its forgotten
The evil fluid! You dry with dew
I dare you not even with fried tuna
No joie de vivre I share with you
Not for all the tea in China’.
He jolts in gay and says Pandora’s box is no more open.