Soft Storm

I became soft
I became soft
after I heard the tumult and
crashed on the eerie stillness;
I inherited the soft
when the sky grew like crocuses
over stones and
became five inches taller
that very night
when moon skidded down
your walls
speaking in the language
of posters and politics
rituals and reasons.
I became soft
as the softness rose like a gale
tearing my roofs
that very night
when the moon sang of
lampposts and gutters
in this seamless city.

I became soft
when homeless children in Thamel
cried with hunger under the bat-bearing
trees of Kesharmahal;
I became soft
when I returned
from the melee
where ceremony
dances with mad steps
on the unwedded gardens of history
growing around protruded rocks.

I became soft
when I alone turned to you
leaving deep dents of words
on these white sheets;
I became soft storm
when I saw a forlorn child
carrying transistor radio around his neck
run around wailing
to find his mother
in the corridors of violent history.

I became a soft storm
when I saw a man
beaten mercilessly
for no reason
before his family
by nobody for no reason
in no sensible times.

I became soft
when I saw
a blood-stained shirt
speaking in the earth’s ears
with bruised human lips
in the far corner
under the moon
of history and dreams
playing hide and seek
in open museums
of human times.

I became soft
since you gave words
but did not listen to them,
gave storms
but didn’t wait to see its Leela
over the silent stone.

Crocuses have grown
over the stone –
I saw last moonlit night,
storms have loitered
in the narrow lanes
where I too have walked alone
pensively in rain tears
and little chuckles of sun laughter
that have risen and melted
like rainbow.
Soft is my storm
that rages and rages
over silent pages,
silent stones,
silent forlorn shirts carrying war memories,
silent dilapidations of gods’ abodes
where dances and songs
are buried under helpless divine debris
in human courtyards.

Soft is what you saw,
I honor your mooneyes
but the mad time spools
winding all that we see and live with,
stone growing in flower
moon humming melodies
history rushing under the lamppost
and over deforested land,
birds singing of bizarre journeys
over the warming earth
rhododendron blooming in winter,
mother earth telling of the tumults
in the songs of the sad birds.
All in unison have created
this soft gale.

But in these hard times
I want to melt like a rainbow
my soft storm in your minuscule sky.
My soft storm
dances in ripples
of your uneasy lake.

              – Abhi Subedi (1945-)

Summary plus Interpretation of the Poem

This poem is composed by Abhi Subedi, a Nepali poet, playwright and critic. In this poem, Subedi compassionately contemplates over the absurdities of tumultuous times in Nepal. Walking through the streets of Kathmandu one night, he sees bizarre things and gets filled with compassion that makes him soft, and as he expresses his feelings in the form of a poem, he feels himself as a soft storm raging over the silent pages of his writing copy.

The language that Subedi uses seems quite difficult to understand at first; apart from some words, the whole stanza or descriptive lines don’t seem to make clear sense. But upon deeper thought, clear images begin to form. He starts the poem with the line “I became soft,” meaning, he became compassionate. What made him compassionate? The “tumult” that he hears and the various acts and events he witnesses that very night. He draws various images that, he says, make him soft. [He becomes soft in his heart hearing and seeing such things.]

In the very first stanza, the poet makes it clear that he is wandering in a moon-lit night. He says, “when the sky grew like crocuses over stones and became five inches taller . . . when moon skidded down your walls” How can the sky become only five inches taller? It is when the moon comes down your walls at night and the sky seems very close to you. He likens the sky getting dark over him to “crocuses growing over stones.” And it is the time in Nepalese history that is marked by political turmoil and cultural upheavals. Hence, the walls that the moon descends over have posters pasted and political slogans written on them. Kathmandu is a “seamless city” as it is marked by instability, and the moon sings of “lampposts and gutters,” indicating night and the insignificant life of Kathmandu dwellers. At this hour, the poet becomes soft and his softness rises ‘like a gale’ [gale = a strong wind], meaning, he becomes more and more soft-hearted. He feels deeply sorry for the existing political and socio-economic situation of the then Kathmandu city.

In the succeeding stanzas, then, the poet provides several bizarre images that caused him to become soft, and not just soft, but soft storm as he outpours his feelings upon the white sheets of paper. These various images are: homeless children in Thamel [a tourist area in Kathmandu city] crying with hunger under the bat-bearing trees of Kesharmahal [a particular place in Kathmandu, around a Rana palace known as Kesharmahal built during Ranarchy]; mad ceremony dances; a forlorn child carrying transistor radio around his neck and running around wailing to find his mother separated by some violent event; a man beaten mercilessly for no reason before his family; a victim of violence in his blood-stained shirt lying almost dead on the ground and taking his last breaths; and dreams playing hide and seek (meaning, unfulfilled dreams). 

The poet says that he speaks and responds through his poem but no one listens to him, and no one waits to see the Leela [= a divine play, by which the poet might mean the positive effects] of his soft storm. It makes him feel further sorry for their indifference. Since there is no one to see the storm, it has “loitered in the narrow lanes where I [the poet] too have walked alone” crying in pathos. So, where does the soft storm rage? Where does the poet unleash his emotional outbursts? It is on silent pages while writing the lines of poem, as he says, “Soft is my storm that rages and rages over silent pages.”

What has created this soft storm? The poet lists out: the mad time; stone growing in flower (meaning, fruitless flower); moon humming melodies (in the sense of not good sign); history rushing under the lamppost; over-deforested land; birds singing of bizarre journeys; warming earth (global warming); rhododendron blooming in winter (absurd because rhododendron should be blooming in spring); and mother earth telling of the tumults in the songs of the sad birds. “All in unison have created this soft gale.”

Finally, the poet says that he wants “to melt like a rainbow in these hard times.” Instead of being hard with anger, hate and rebellion in these hard times, he chooses to become soft with compassion and wants to melt like a rainbow in a suffocating sky and dance like ripples in a disturbed lake.  

GLOSSARY:

tumult (n.): violent and noisy commotion or disturbance of a crowd or mob; uproar
eerie (adj.): so mysterious, strange, or unexpected as to send a chill up the spine
crocuses (n.): a type of flowering plants in the iris family
skidded (v.): slided or slipped
gale (n.): strong wind
gutter (n.): a ditch along the side of a road for draining water
seamless (adj.): moving from one thing to another easily and without any interruptions or problems
Thamel (n.): a tourist area in Kathmandu city
Kesharmahal (n.): a particular place in Kathmandu, around a Rana palace known as Kesharmahal built during Ranarchy
melee (n.): confusion, turmoil, jumble
protruded (adj.): stuck out from or through something
dents (n.): marks
forlorn (adj.): sad and lonely because of desertion
wailing (adj.): crying loudly in grief
bruised (v.): injured
Leela (n.): a divine play
loitered (v.): moved slowly around or stood in a public place without an obvious reason, doing nothing significant or simply wasting time
pensively (adv.): done in a thoughtful manner, often with sadness
rage (v.): become violent in anger
dilapidation (n.): a state of deterioration due to old age or long use
spools (n.): a cylindrical device which has a rim or ridge at each end and an axial hole for a pin or spindle and on which material (such as thread, wire, or tape) is wound
bizarre (adj.): grossly unconventional or unusual
miniscule (adj.): very small
ripples (n.): small waves on the surface of water

Q. What is soft storm? Why does the writer say that he became a soft storm?

Ans. Soft storm refers to the emotional response of the poet after he experiences the sad and bizarre situation of the then Kathmandu city one night. Powerful thoughts and feelings arise in him which the poet likens to a storm. However, these thoughts and feelings are not that of anger, but of compassion, which makes his heart soft as he feels sorry for the helpless situation of Nepal. And he pours out these emotions over the page in the form of a poem, which is not violent for that reason too, instead, it is ‘soft’. Hence, the poet says that he become a soft storm.