sarah swoti
 
 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
  

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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.

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