Can the soul flourish in bright cheer when missing the essence of truth?

Come, see, and experience the delusion we uphold in the world if you want…

Rajendra Ojha (Nayan), a renowned poet from Kathmandu, Nepal, shares his poem

Rajendra Ojha (Nayan) is a poet, social researcher, social worker, philosopher and EU certified trainer, from Kathmandu, Nepal. His poems and philosophical essays have been published in various national and international literary journals from Nepal, England, Greece, India, China, Pakistan, U.S.A., Spain, Myanmar, Russia, and so on. He also served as a citizen diplomat for three months under the ‘Ministry of Population and Environment’ in 2018 in Switzerland for the diplomatic program of the Minamata Convention, which was held in Geneva, Switzerland. Rajendra Ojha has also published two anthologies in English language entitled, ‘Through the World’ (a collection of experimental poems) and ‘Words of Tiger’ (a collection of philosophical and psychological poems), in 2011 and 2019, respectively. Similarly, in 2024 he publish his Nepalese anthology of poems named ‘Abhilashaka Jharharu’ (The Weeds of Aspirations).

Panorama of the Pashupatinath Temple from the other bank of Bagmati River – Wikipedia photo

Reaping of Delusion

Any lightning festival is unfair to celebrate,

To disguise the fear of Holi, played through blood.

Some, of course, organize such lightning festivals,

For surplus light fades all that exists—

Like darkness, though with the aroma of bliss.

Imagine the grains we yield from the farm of illusion,

Fertilized by blind hands.

 How would we perceive joy if suffering never existed in the heart?

And how would we present the identity of suffering

If we lack awareness of it even when we experience it?

Can the soul flourish in bright cheer when missing the essence of truth?

Come, see, and experience the delusion we uphold in the world if you want,

In time, you will discover relative yet absolute truth—

About yourself and all the grains nurtured by blind hands.

 It’s a sunny day, filled with beauty all around,

But the light of the sun can’t reach me.

The space around me is veiled,

By clouds seeded from fertilizers.

Knowledge revolts for justice if utilized for hostile struggle,

In those moments, it turns into botulinum toxin.

So better to have barren land than nurture ‘Deadly Nightshade’,

And instead, celebrate with the color of enlightenment.

I once entered an election, wanting to bring changes from my side;

But how can one who has lost the election of his heart, ever win?

So I lost the chance to trigger wide changes I wished for,

Then I remembered something wise: Cold Iron cannot be molded.

Farmers can try harvesting apples as much as they can,

I will not, and will never stand against their act.

But can that apple bring peaceful light to the eyes that sweat?

Eating an apple out of the fear of doctors,

Doesn’t bring a healthy life filled with eternal joy—

For it must be taken from the Soul, through Love.