Class rooms and admin office of Trichandra college under fire

Who was it that set fire,
To that very classroom where, only yesterday, I had dreamt of a better tomorrow
To that very desk where, only yesterday, I had sat at and studied.

If no flowers of creativity bloom in your black minds, then it’s alright
Why uproot the seeds that others have planted?

If your hands can’t light up a black room, then it’s alright
Why set fire to my classroom where sparks to light the world are produced?

If you can’t read, it’s alright
If you can’t write, it’s alright
Why burn down the books in my library?

Why not set fire to those dirty rooms where, daily, our country is sold?
Why not speak out against those who’ve struck us dumb time and again?
Why not rise up against those who attract us with flowers, only to pierce us with their thorns?

Forgive me, my friend,
My quarrel only lies with the thoughts you carry and those flames you wield.

This poem was originally written in Nepali. Translated into English by Pranaya SJB Rana, V.E.N.T! Magazine.

Class rooms and admin office of Trichandra college under fire

A school children after student’s protest infron of trichandre college