Festival of Dashain Dashain comes again in Canada from the back alley of busy routine on a Monday watches my two hands multiplied ten a battle of usual weekdays to my daughters, Dashain is a story I tell them in the car, until we reach the school every year, the same story ends to different stops their curiosity demands details on goddesses riding lions, about multiple hands of the mothers their tiny hands clap sharp on the celebration of victory their faces gleam for the day festive memories of childhood drop quietly behind my glasses old tear tastes saltier Sugam Pokhrel sings on YouTube he breaks the dam open, strength left loose floods the floor under my eyes for mom Dashain is to spread eyes on our arrival to linger to hopes flashback of home full of children a constant reminder: 6500 miles is once every five years Dashain in Nepal but the music of Mangaldhoon on radios, TVs, ads and greetings. a river of homebound traffic buses loaded with extra passengers baggage full of gifts, sweet smell of new clothes aroma of Sell Roti, grandkids running to gramma’s arms in Nepal, Dashain is cities walking to rural homes In Canada, it comes as the cuddles of memories tied to the rim of usual routine
Return to Journal
Saraswoti comes from St. Albert. She is a mother of two happy daughters. She is a life celebrator and loves exploring beyond her world. At the age of twenty-four she decided to transplant her life from Nepal to Canada. She claims to have nature as her second mother. She loves wandering around the open space with her camera gears. She is an optimist and a continuous spiritual learner. Her poems have been published in a few journals & anthologies across the globe.