D. B. Gurung - Life and Letters
Thursday, 26 April 2012
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      Written, collected and edited by Ram Prasad Prasainram_parsain@yahoo.com   One of contemporaneous signatures in the field of Nepali writers in English, D. B. Gurung was born in a middle-class Gurkha family in Kathmandu. His family hailed to Kathmandu originally from Rumjatar, the... Read More...
Doing creative writing is not like running a news article based on a fact - D. B. Gurung
Friday, 27 April 2012
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      (Mr. Ram Prasad Prasain and his colleague Mr. Keshar Bahadur Balampaki met and talked about various facades of Nepalis Writing in English with D. B. Gurung. They prepared the questionnaires and emailed them to the novelist; and he answered them. It is written and personal interview. –... Read More...
Ancient Kapilvastu was Pretty Much Where The Tilaurakot Ruins are Today
Saturday, 04 August 2012
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[On the basis of the Ashokan edicts at Paderia and Nigliva and their location along with reports of Rohan L. Jayetilleke (Article in The Himalayan Voice, March 22,2010) and Robin Coningham of Bradford University we can accept the location of Kapilavastu in Nepal Tarai zone. In this context the... Read More...
Litterateur Gothale no more
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
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Famous playwright and novelist Govinda Bahadur Malla 'Gothale' passed away on Monday. He was suffering from asthma and other bodily ailments since long. Malla, 88, died at around 12 in the afternoon at the Himal Hospital located in Kamalpokhari where he was undergoing treatment since Dec 5. Born in... Read More...
2013 Monsoon Floods in Nepal and India: What happened and what could have been done?
Tuesday, 25 June 2013
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[This article is extracted from ICIMOD official website. To view full text with pictures, please visit the source : http://www.icimod.org/?q=10932. Editor]   While the world is waking up to the news of the horrific scale of the recent flood disaster in the Mahakali basin of Nepal and Uttarakhand... Read More...
Oh, Subru! Hi, Humanity
Monday, 06 May 2013
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IMAGE                                                                 — Ram Prasad Prasain   Retiring the tiresome day He bid and told me, Wrapping up the all conversations, “Sir, don’t send my body to my country” “Why?”  I was... Read More...
Roman to Unicode
Monday, 15 April 2013
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My name is Nepal
I am beautiful with many mountains
gorgeous with many fountains
politics is my bad offspring
it does business here.
I am still silent
for I am a mom
it has ripped me a lot
the wounds are paining
scars are getting deeper
but still they are deaf
they do business their.
I do have some good kids too
but bad has the louder voice
i never dreamed this day
what can i do,this is not my choice
offspring too become so bad
they kick their mom and take care of their hat
oh it pains ,they do business here.
I wish i were a little bold
so that i could have smashed the bad and save the gold
its a pity I am paining
they are rejoicing and they are gaining
for whom can i tell my pain
so here i am crying again. 
- Anju Subedi (Santiago)

Words, Words, Words - Ram.html

---Ram Prasad Prasain This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.\">This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. 

Literature defines life in vast, various, vivid and vivacious manners nearly in all moods. Henceforth, life demands aesthetic sensibility. It demands test, trial and turbulence to ponder, realize and understand diverse spectrums of life. 

Literature deserves to be mirror of society, vanguard of civilization, bearer of culture and reflection of human sentiment. It helps bring the worlds into words where spirit of time, space and situations are delineated. 

Literature has varieties to serve many minds, quench many thirsts and mould minds in million. Poetry, story, novel, drama, autobiography, fiction or non-fiction, etc., are business of literary writing. Texts are reflective of contexts, and the contexts are embedded from the range of poetics to politics, story to history and metaphorical representation to semeological pragmatism. 

Good times and bad times are represented with human sentiments and feelings in almost writings. Art also represents happiness and sorrows. Sun and shade are integral part of human existence. Humanity escapes not from such inevitability. Literature helps us how to cope with the tragedy of life, associate with delightful moments and liberalize our egos for proliferation of peace, prosperity, mercy, forgiveness and civic consciousness from our hearths to global home.

Creativity, uniqueness, philosophy, ideology and socio-cultural issues are trend and tendency for literature by then and now. Form and content play a vital role in writing. Sometimes these two elements competes each other for marking lines of demarcation on their priority. The autocratic rules of alchemy are dead and defunct now. Truth has been converted into ‘truths’ as grandnarratives to ‘mininarratives’. Plurality has ruled upon singularity.

To have an epic way of life, there is no more recommendation to be superman and heroic frenzy. Everybody is normal and superman. Every person has big or small story, good or bad story and successful or failed story. Our times represent inclusiveness and democratic mindset. Epics on ethics and ethnics are equally adorable, readable and thoughtful with our epochal reality.

Literature touches, searches and delivers inner voice of humanity. Individual perception and collective consciousness, times, climes, spirits and epochs speak silently and saliently from ages to ages continuously. Authorial belongingness and reader’s background walk paralleled sometimes and collide each other for other times. Consciousness of both parties should meet at certain contact zone or pivotal landmark.

Social responsibility should experience in every piece of literary creations. Emotive, refractive, reflexive and reflective ethos, pathos and sensibilities emerge from the core of literary goodness. We are living at the age of civil journalism, mass communication, verbalism, reader’s receptive attitude, personal aptitude of mythmaking, and corporate readership of ideas.

The East Setting Sun*.html

From the narrow pass—Sanguri Bhanjyang
Beneath horizon
The Rising Sun
Pops out warming up the chill body
The Vanishing shelter of snails and shells
Like unkept promises of Lizard’s story
In the rustic slums of Rautes and Kamaiyas
The lawns are festering into dense forests
Nights are alight somewhere
Days are ghastly dark somewhere else
Alighted nights are twinkling
On the eyes of owls and bats

The eyes of humanity
Shimmering into the
Semi-darkness of day

The semi-darkness exists indiscriminately
Dead ones are mummified in the Pyramids
And happening to be observant of New Era

The herd of petrified alive men attends
From the hillocks of Dolpali slopes
From the Red Base

The Sun of New Era is coming up
With the heard myths of Dinosaurs
Slowly and steadily
The Sun is setting down
Towards farther East in Dolpa

On its own land
The Lining Tower intensely
Reading the civilizational epochs
Since time immemorial

Stepping further and further
On the ladder of insights
Our homely demigods are staging down
And Water-gods are on the verge of death
On the waste land
Having born the Grand myths of the Pandavas
Slowly and steadily
The Sun is setting down
In the hamlet of indigenous—
Satars and Mushars

Speaks and plays the same
In the search of Swan
The Time’s flying

Truly truths are embedded with untruly truths
Statues and images are babbling
The Absurdity—Veerupakshya is increasing day by day
Pondering at the river edge—Bagmati
Getting deeper and deeper everyday
In search of TRUTH
Tears of Crocodile rolling down
I’m seeing the latent stories of many migrant animals
With rolling tears on the ground a new story is written
And earth-worms and termites start to read their history
On the surface and on their lands

Slowly and steadily
The Sun is setting down
Towards farther East in its own land

*The very poem is translated from poet and friend Deep Raj Neyonghang’s nepali poem “Purvatir astaundai gareko gham”.

- Ram Prasad Prasain


Mad, Lover And Poet*.html

    -  Translated by Welkin Seskin

Spilling surfeiting syrup
on the wings of (dragon) fly,
Do not scale my heart this time still.
I will not drown, and never ever again.
Thinking as beloved
the Moon shinning on the lake
I am not like the protagonist
of the Hellenic myth.
The propose lies distant.
Gripping the illusion
through seeing of big twists
out of shape
I will not route myself
through the precipice apex
bond of notion.
For your outright denial
I will also not build sturdy cells
for your genial acceptance, co-wisdom
and even sightedness.
In the free parterre of phantasm,
may the turnkeys and hangmen
brocade search-warrant against me
I will not agree at all.
If they declare me crazy for not obeying,
Come, listen one poem:
An existence, a consciousness and bliss,
A unique love!
And, place behind bars
billows of spontaneous cloud
at variance in the skies.

*A translated poem from Ram Prasad Prasain (Pagal, premi ra kavi)

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