Clouds
moving across
strong breeze
creates wave in the lake.
Fog
covering the entire hill
breeze fighting with it
lake is silent.
Two drunkards
lie down
and laugh
nothing matters to them.
‘What do you think life has for us?’
An old man utters in no consciousness
the other drunken laughs at him
‘The beer hit you dude.’
It starts raining
rain kisses the surface of lake
the lake says
‘you don’t affect me.’
Tell me why do you drink?
It makes me who I am,
the self I adore;
the self repressed by you.
The young drunken looks at the lake
says, ‘the lake lives for us
lets us drive on it;
but it is what it is when it’s raining.’
I look outside,
the entire phewa is empty;
there’s no boats, no man,
just the fog, the breeze and the lake.
The drunkards start laughing
Beyond Dimension 