Why Does the Bridge Exist?

by KESHAB SIGDEL

As my daughter rides on my back along the Dhobikhola,

like a victorious emperor she asks me everything that crosses her

mind. The only difference I discern is that the emperor could
measure his authority with his questions.

My daughter strives to give me a higher status than that of the

emperor, as if her father were the wisest and the most powerful

man in the world, as if her father possessed answers to
all the questions she could think of. What else then?
Like a princess on a jaunt, she makes a sedan chair
on her father’s shoulders and showers him with questions.

While crossing the bridge over the Dhobikhola
she asks, “Baba, why do we have this bridge here?”
“We need a bridge to go across the stream, my daughter,”
I reply. The answer doesn’t satisfy her. The Dhobikhola

suffocates in piles of rubbish thrown into it. A man in rags

continues sifting through the garbage for plastic bags and dogs

bark at him from garbage piles.

My daughter averts her gaze, and asks, “Can’t you cross the

stream without a bridge?”

Why would you need a bridge to cross a stream that doesn’t have water to fill

the ditches? I ask myself. I say, “These vehicles can’t go across

without a bridge.” I try to satisfy her. “This bridge separates

Babarmahal from Baneswor,” I explain.

“Baba, would not Babarmahal and Baneswor become one if not

for the bridge?” The question she asks shakes the foundations of

my belief.

—Does a bridge connect us or keep us apart?

—I keep contemplating the question.

Translated from Nepali by Khem K Aryal

(first published in Snow Jewel, Issue 6, 2015)

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चराहरुको जुलुस

केशव सिग्देल कीर्तिपुरको डाँडामा उभिएको छु म यतिबेला र जिब्रो थुतिएको भैरवको थान अघिल्तिरबाट म खोजिरहेछु शक्तिको नाभीस्थान । देउता पनि मूक बसेको यो अग्लो ठाँऊबाट विवश भएर म हेरिरहेछु कंक्रिटको जङ्गलभित्र ढल्दै गरेको न्याय र जीवहरुका खुम्चिँदै गएका पाइलाहरु अब यहाँबाट देखिन्छ उही पुरानो, जर्जर, दरबार जस्तो गुफा मात्र । शाक्तिको उन्मादमा एउटा बुढो सिंह आफूलाई त्यो दरबारको राजा घोषित गर्छ र आफ्नो भोक तृप्तीका लागि हरेक दिन आफ्नै वस्तीका जीवहरुलाई एक एक गरी खाने कानून बनाउँछ । भय र सन्तापमा परेका जीवहरु बिरोधमा बोल्न सकेका छैनन् । दम्भको कलिङ्ग ठड्याएर त्यस गुफाभित्र सबै जीवका आवाज थुत्ने प्रपन्च गरिरहेछन् त्यो बुढो सिंह र केही थान छट्टु स्यालहरु । देबढोका पश्चिमको गुम्बामा डम्फुको आवाज खुब चर्को गरि बजिरहेछ, सायद गुम्बाका भिक्षुहरु निमुखा मृग र चराका हाडखोर देखेर अत्तालिएका छन् । गुफाको स्वघोषित राजालाई थाहा नहुन सक्छ बालकथाका खरायो मन्दिरको खापामा राखिएको तरवार झिकेर देव पुखूमा पखालिरहेछ हारेको युद्धका खाटाहरु । विवेक वर्जित गरिएको शहरमा फेरी बिरोधक...

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