" The Wall Across"

On the wall beyond the courtyard, The laughter of my childhood still lingers, Games played in the soft dust, Dreams etched in the moist soil remain. The scent of the village, the cow’s grass, the smoke in the air, The rhythm of mother’s grinding stone, the plow father guides, Those joyful mornings at the hillside, Where the sweat of our ancestors still rests in the History is visible on the wall beyond, Our roots, our pride, our existence, Where every stone holds a story, And every tree breathes memories. The warm sunlight of childhood, A tiny world cradled in my arms, The pain of leaving the village in youth, And the threads of the past that turn into memories in old age. Even today, when I look from the courtyard— Time has flowed, but my heart remains there, On that wall beyond, the film of my life plays, Where I began. The peeling doors of old houses, Morning sunlight streaming through the windows, Now that sun is lost in a foreign land, But my heart still clings to the same courtyard. The hillside breeze remains the same, Yet the air now carries the dust of the city, I long to return, for in every flicker I see the face of my village, Because on the ✍️Abina Tamang