In the Memory of Late King Birendra(Poem)

                 By Ganesh B. Dhami

Seventeen wild summers have passed.

I, who was the tiny toddler 

When you departed; have been a gallant lad. 

But there ain't whereabouts of your murderer.  

Still my ears do echo with the mourning tune 

Of the only radio- Radio Nepal then. 

I do vividly remember those bald headed police 

Four or five in number; patrolling in a group 

With the bamboo-sticks in their hands in my rural atavistic land. 

Curious I said to my granny, "Why have they all shaved their head?" 

She with fear and terror mixed voice whispered "King died". 

I still the tender minded got puzzled who the king was 

How he looked like, where he inhabited, what he ate and so forth. 

Now, the wilds have been domesticated. 

The onion-hero has ascended to thy throne. 

But, no one other than you dwells in my heart.  

Every commoner pays homage to thy statute on Jesth nineteenth. 

No matter how many actors have been to the stage 

There ain't been any fundamental change. 

Every Prime Minister vows to divulge the mystery shrouded in the history before the voter-bank 

But castigates his own pledges after he goes to the power. 

So, every folk with sigh says, "He was the best monarch, he was the cool king."

[Note: King Birendra Bira Bikram Shah Dev was one of the kings of the Shah dynasty of Nepal who was murdered when the Durbar massacre on Jesth 19thm, 2058 took place. The king including his family members was assassinated but the culprit behind the massacre is shrouded in the womb of history.]