The Flower Found on the Road

 

(लघुकथा)
बाटाेमा भेटेकाे फूल
सरण राई
मसित सबथाेक भएकाे बेला घर फर्कदा बाटाेमा खसेकाे एउटा फूल देखेँ । केटाकेटी उमेरमै पनि त्याे फूल मन परेकाे थियाे । उठाएँ । फुलमा अलिकति डाँठ थियाे । कतै जाग्छ कि ! गमलामा राेपेँ । जाग्याे , हुर्कियाे र फुल्याे ।
प्रसन्न भएर त्यसबाट सहस्राे बाेटहरू बनाएँ, कैयाैं बाडेँ पनि । समयकाे अविरल लामाे अन्तराल ...
नरिवल आफैले राेपेर खान पाइदैन- भन्थे । राेपेर फलाइयाे खाइयाे र त्यसकै दानाबाट अरू सात बाेट बिरुवा हुर्काएर फलाइयाे । छिमेकमा घरहरू थिएनन् । घरहरू बनेपछि अजङकाे अग्ला नरिवलका बाेटहरू, हावाहुरीले लडेर छिमेकका घर कम्पाउन्ड लडायाे भने फसाद । फल्दै गरेका बाेटहरू काटियाे । हरिया साना दानाहरू नरिवलका । नरिवलकाे पानी डायलाइसिस गराईरहेकी पत्नीले पनि अघाइन्जेल खाईन् । बिसाएर हप्ताको दुई पल्ट गरिरहेकाे डायलाइसिस तीन पल्ट गर्नु पर्ने भयाे । डायलाइसिस गर्दागर्दै तिनकाे देहान्त भयाे ।
समयकाे अविरल लामाे अन्तराल...
बाटाेमा भेटेर राेपेर हुर्काएकाे फुलकाे अहिले चिनाेबानाे केही छैन, मासियाे । बाटाेमा भेटियाे । राेपियाे । हुर्काईयाे । फुलाइयाे । मासियाे । क्षणभङ्गुर ।
जीवन-- बाटाेमा भेटिएकाे फूलजस्तै ।
अहिले छ । कहिलेसम्म रहन्छ ?!
🙏
२०८१ जेठ २८, धरान
"कण" संयुक्त लघुकथासङ्ग्रहबाट
 
 
The Flower Found on the Road
 
By Saran Rai
 
When I was returning home with everything I had, I saw a flower lying on the road. Even as a child, I had always liked that flower. I picked it up. It had a small stem, and I wondered if it would wake up. I planted it in a pot. It woke up, grew, and bloomed.
With joy, I made hundreds of cuttings from it, distributed many of them. Time passed.
People used to say that you cannot eat the coconut you plant—once it grows, you can only benefit from its fruits later. I planted it, it grew, and from its fruits, I grew several more saplings.
When the neighborhood homes were built, the tall coconut trees were knocked over by the wind and fell onto the compound walls of neighboring homes, causing a mess. The coconuts that were growing on them were cut off. The small green coconuts that were left, my wife, who was undergoing dialysis, also ate them. Later, her condition worsened. Dialysis, which used to happen twice a week, now had to be done three times.
As time passed, she passed away.
Now, time passed... The flower I found on the road, which I nurtured and grew, has now withered. It has vanished, its beauty gone. It lay on the road, I picked it, planted it, nurtured it, and it bloomed, only to fade away. Fragile, fleeting.
Life, just like the flower found on the road.
It exists now. How long will it last?
🙏

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