All for the Lord

In the times of immense development around the world, in the times of Nepal being born again as a democracy, the evil of animal sacrifice still persists. Many Hindu practices in Nepal borrow heavily from tantric arts as the place was one of the hotbeds of the same. In the land of Buddhism, it is appalling to know that there is still place for such a ritual.



A piercing clamor resounded in the temple.
It kept him quivering for hours.
He looked skywards and prayed to his god;
The one that didn’t yearn for naive blood.

He wasn’t blessed with words,
Or the intellect of these higher mortals.
But he was capable of feeling despair and pain
As the thick rope cut into his vocals.

The delicacies fed everyday failed to interest him.
He would rather be starved and free.
Then came the day, he was bathed and worshipped;
A beautiful garland adorned his neck.

He was dragged along the street;
The temple bells seemed closer with every tug.
He glanced skyward with pitiful eyes,
As a kite circled the heavens.

Photo courtesy - Sean D'mello

The Divine Enclosure

The Kumaris in Nepal are revered as they believe that the goddess Taleju resides in the little girl that is picked. A girl from the Shakya family (Buddhist), who fulfills 32 feature requirements, is picked to be a Kumari and resides in the Kumari palace at Durbar Square. However the girl falls into a pitiful state when, after she gets her menstruations, she is removed from the palace and another Kumari is picked. During her stay in the palace, she is not educated or trained in any art; also people believe that any man who marries an ex-Kumari will die an early death. Resultantly, most of the girls end up begging by temples or are forced into prostitution.


She gazed down at the eyes peering towards her
Hopes weighed her down, desires of granting wishes;
Her eyes momentarily glanced up towards the heavens,
Taking in the colours before being pulled into the dark.

Her fragile feet were numbed to any feeling.
She longed to sprint across freshly watered grass.
She missed the smell of her sister’s used clothes,
Not days, not months; for years the castigation was to last.

The sense of yearning, too, slowly left her alone;
A life that she knew nothing of, couldn’t call out anymore.
Though the innocence in her was kept alive by the palace,
She had to leave; this young woman was no longer a girl.

She wasn’t royal anymore, or a goddess;
She was just a woman with her eyes to the ground.
She violently fluttered along with life,
Like a tender feather abruptly released in the storm.

Photo courtesy - Sean D'mello