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Sunday, January 22, 2017

Auther’s Biography




Auther’s Biography 


Saran Rai is one of the prominent  writers in the literature of Nepal, known as Land of Everest, Birthplace of Buddha and Land of Valiant Gorkhas. He was born in Chhinamakhu, Bhojpur , a small remote village in April 5, 1948.
When Saran Rai was born in 1948, tyrannical monarchy prevailed in Nepal. Although the people’s revolution in 1951 gave rise to democracy, the democratic system did not flourish for more than 10 years. And  again a thirty-year Panchayat system took reign over Nepalese people under tyrannical monarchical rule . Afterwards constitutional monarchical multi-party system was restored on the strength of People’s Movement – I. In 1990 the then king Birendra and his family members were assassinated. His brother Gyanendra ascended to the throne and imposed the tyrannical rule over Nepalese people. Again the people’s nineteen day peaceful movement – II established the republican in Nepal.
In this way Saran Rai has experienced the various political systems that prevailed over times in Nepal. He taught in a lower secondary school for one year in the capacity of the Headmaster.. He also taught in Tribhuvan University in Nepal from 1963 to 1906 as an Associate Professor and remained in his post for 35 years. At the age of 59 he has resigned from his post in Tribhuvan University voluntarily and involved in  literary journey as a full-time writer.
Saran Rai’s father , Tilak Bikram Rai ( changed his name to Machhindra Bahadur Rai after his return from the army) with number 90482 served in the British Army from 1941 to 1947 and fought as an soldier in the second World War. After the ceasefire he returned to Nepal, resigning from the British Army. Then he fought as a freedom fighter in People’s Revolution in 1951. After  the success in People’s revolution, the valiant fighters of people’s army were included and a platoon of government army was formed as defence squad ( Raksha Dal). Fighters including his father in the defence squad all staged the first military mutiny in Nepal in 1952. In return for that, he got a life-long imprisonment but after three years he was released from jail  as a result of hunger- strike by all prisoners. On his return , he took active part in politics in Bhojpur. Influenced by his father , the writer played the active role in the politics of the nation. He has observed and experienced directly the ups and down, event and condition of political transformations, tyrannical rule and the Republican of Nepal from 1948 until today .So his writings exhibit the political colour.
The writer had participated actively in the People’s movements and attempts made for the changes in Nepal. During the period of his student life he was involved in politics through Student Union and then through Teachers’ Association becoming a teacher. Although he took part in politics his main interest shifted to literature so he kept on writing since he was a student.
His  anthology of short stories entitled Antim Swikarokti, a collection of essays Sathi and two novels Manav Sansar and Udan Yuwa Manko  have been published. Despite the fact that a collection of poems composed by him are not published, his poems have appeared in different magazines.
He wants to transfer education and learning acquired through his experience to future generations by way of his creative works. To arouse compassions toward human race, faith and impetus toward life is the goal of his creative works. Based on that political upheaval, his writings are lively, and influencial since they have delineated human nature, psychology and minute description of human passions and emotions. Therefore his writings are interesting and pleasant to all the readers of all ages no matter whichever country, time and situation prevail.

Thursday, August 6, 2015

A Part Of Saran Rai's poem

A Part Of Saran Rai's poem
Translated by Madhukar Suvedi

 I got myself lost here
The way a leaf is lost in the wood
Like a grain of sand in the desert
A flicker of the moment in the eternity.
Does grain count
Or a moment !
But, friend
What's desert but the pile of grains
Endless flow of moments -the eternal time
The sea is nothing but gatherings of drops !

I'm a drop that is dried up
A grain that is swept away
A moment that passes off.....

Saturday, May 3, 2014

‘Never got rid of the Yoke from the Shoulder’ (काँधको जुँवा फाल्न सकिएन)



Saran Rai

‘Namlo’ from the forehead
Yoke from the shoulder and loads of the donkey
Never got rid of
Tiny holes of the life/heart
Have grown larger to that extent
Never been able to patch

To maintain a little breath of life
Had to be a bird, had to be a mouse
Had to be a bull, and donkey
Could never been an elephant
Could never been a lion
‘Namlo’ from the head, yoke from the shoulder never got rid of
It was said that it’s merely a stomach but … could never fed enough.

Translated by Pancha Vismrit

Note:
Namlo: is a kind of band especially made from jute thread, used to place around one’s forehead when carrying loads on the back.

Monday, April 8, 2013

Flower that withers



Saran Rai
Translated by- Bidur Rai

Drifting away was life
Rolling off was life with stairs of flights
Where, how and when did life get punctured ?
Clipped was the pinion of my mind that sailed away
How it flies away ?
It stops rolling
It stops flowering .

Like over the unstoppable dales, uphill and steep
It Stands, and it drifts
Falling, staggering and still regaining consciousness
Yet again blooming in a perpetual journey
Life ,I swear, is short lived
It was life that withers like a flower .

Mdhupark (literary magazine) ,2068 B.S. kartik

Sunday, March 31, 2013

(Flash Fiction) My own house

 

 Saran Rai
Translation- Bidur Rai

Likes house that I built long ago, I have been old and aged. Now then a question begins to arise whether I deserve the right to reside in that house ,
My heirs begin to speak, “ That house belongs to us.” Yes , of course, they have made every possible contribution to this house and keep it look as though it were a dream house as they repair time and again, tend it with care and keep it neat and tidy. Even though I do not live in that house all my life, I guess, they will be living there , no doubt .
If the house breaks down and crumbles, they would have to bear a heavy loss rather than I personally do, they will be devoid of shelter. Therefore, they have the opinion that the house must survive till the last breath . However debate emerges : “ whose house is that ?” Who has the responsibility of building the house, mine or theirs ?
I do not claim any stretch of time live in a house or on earth as all the creatures do . He who lives there owns a house : as long as he lives, he says,"This is my home”, but in the end it belongs to none . And now I have stopped claiming that house as my own in spite of the fact that I constructed myself. I have begun to reflect and understand that, like a house, my own life does not come into my grip .