Aditya Mudbhary, a prodigious poet, embarked on his poetic journey from a tender age, drawing inspiration from luminaries such as John Keats and Walt Whitman. Despite his Nepalese heritage, Aditya's linguistic prowess blossomed in English, nurtured by a Cambridge education since his formative years. He emerges as a trailblazing wordsmith, seamlessly blending archaic English with contemporary lexicon, thereby challenging the constraints of traditional poetic forms.
His deliberate departure from established norms is a testament to his fervent belief in preserving poetry's inherent freedom of expression. Aditya contends that adherence to rigid rules stifles the raw emotions and profound sentiments that underpin poetic creation. By eschewing literary conventions, he endeavors to capture the essence of human experience in its most authentic and unrestrained form.
Aditya's defiance against the institutionalization of poetry is a bold declaration of his commitment to liberating future generations of poets from the shackles of criticism and conformity. His revolutionary spirit burns brightly in each line he pens, igniting a fervor for unrestricted artistic expression that transcends generations.
Within the tapestry of his verses, love and pain intertwine as recurring motifs, reflecting the universal human experience in its myriad hues. Through his impassioned poetry, Aditya invites readers to embark on a journey of self-discovery and introspection, where emotions run deep and truths are laid bare.
In the annals of literary history, Aditya Mudbhary's legacy will endure as a beacon of artistic freedom and unwavering authenticity, inspiring generations to come to embrace the untamed beauty of the written word.
As thine wake up to the winter misty morning,
With no sunlight,
Bright colorful flowers or the chirping birds singing their song,
The Feeling of death lurks within thy.
...
In the moment of drowsiness and indolence,
I am elevated to a new dimension,
Away to a forest, Oh so dense,
Brings a feeling of new sensation.
...
The Whispering wind blows beside me,
And the chirping birds softly sing their song,
The living leaves of Gaia no longer we see,
As winter has come and it seeks to live long.
...
In a dream of the deepest thoughts of mine,
I could see a lady under the eyes of the stars,
Looking into my eyes as we dine'
In the finest of all love hours.
...
The hot noon sun rises up,
And the dry leaves of the season drop,
Cigarette smoke and the smell of tobacco rise,
And the loud honk of the car cries.
...