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CHOMOLUNGMA: the Mother Goddess of the Earth (Satis Shroff)

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Chomolungma: the Mother Goddess of the Earth (Satis Shroff) The highest peak on earth is Mt. Everest but to the Nepalese living below the Himalayas it has always been Sagarmatha, and to the Sherpas the mountain was always Chomolungma, the Mother Goddess of the Earth. The Sherpas are born at altitudes of 3000m and above, and you can find them around the Solokhumbu area, and they are acclimatized to high altitudes and are recognized for their climbing prowess. In 1953 Tenzing Norgay became the first Sherpa to climb Sagarmatha (Mt. Everest) with Edmund Hillary, and since then the experienced Sherpas bear the title Tigers of the Snow. The Sherpas settled in the Khumbu area circa 300 years ago after a long journey from Tibet (China). The Sherpas were traders before they became famous as porters and mountain guides. A relatively small group of Sherpas also live in Helambu, and there are many clans among the Sherpas. All Sherpas speak the official language of Nepal, ...
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THE NAKED HILLS (Satis Shroff)

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THE NAKED HILLS (Satis Shroff) A young Nepalese woman Sits in front of her parents’ thatched home In the Middle Hills of Nepal. Her two hands caress her shoulders. It’s cold in the hills of Nepal, Where the hills are naked And its sons have left In search of better pastures, For the hills are barren. Governments and kings Have come and gone, But the poverty has remained. There’s no flour to bake one’s bread. The mothers seek and pluck Brennessel, And call it sisnu, To make a soup In the frugal hills of Nepal. In Maghey Sankrati we eat Stems and roots, Tarul and sweet-potatoes. There’s no wheat, maize, rice or mustard In these naked hills. Everything has become bitter. What remains is love and attachment. A Nepalese bird still sings: Kafal pakyo. Kafal pakyo. The berry’s ripe Glossary: Brennessel (Ger.): sisnu (Nepali), stinging nettle Maghey Sankrati: festival in Nepal pic courtesy:...
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A DREAM LED TO ANOTHER (SATIS SHROFF)

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Bhaktapur: art by satisshroff A DREAM  LED TO ANOTHER (Satis Shroff) I was around twenty years old, My head full of dreams. I left the Himalayan foothills to win a dream: A dream to go to Europe, visit places I’d read about. The Bastille from Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, Where I spent time recalling the French Revolution. My friend’s Parisienne sister shook her head and said: ‘Monsieur Satish, there are others ways of spending an afternoon in Paris.’ The smell of sea food at a French harbour, Such as the peasants of Normandy built. La Rochelle and the German bunkers in the Ile d’ Oleron. I peered at sea fogs from the mighty Atlantic, Watched the ‘last oozing, hours by hours, From a cider-press’ in the Vosges, as John Keats aptly put it. * * * In Blenhelm’s little tavern I saw murals of its famous son: Winston Leonhard Spencer Churchill. I stood in front of Churchill’s grave; Above his remains lay his mother. The words of James Shirley came to my mind: ‘Death lays his...
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