Optional English (Class 12) ︱Notes

This softcopy note is dedicated to helping Class 12 students excel in their Optional English subject. Whether you're preparing for your board exams or simply want to strengthen your understanding of key topics, you'll find comprehensive notes, summaries, and analysis of literature, language, and poetry. Our carefully organized content covers all chapters from the syllabus, offering insights into novels, plays, essays, poems, and more.

Explore our easy-to-follow guides, critical reviews, and practice materials to improve your writing and analytical skills. With our resources, you can feel confident in your preparation for any challenge in the Optional English subject. Let's make your learning journey smoother and more engaging.

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Echoes of Existence in Momila’s ‘Prashnaharu ta Baqi nai Rahanchhan…’

A stone I died and rose again a plant;

A plant I died and rose an animal;

I died an animal and was born a man.

Why should I fear? What have I lost by death?

The popular poet, Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi, in these lines captures the philosophical and spiritual view that the death is not a loss or end, but a necessary step in the soul’s journey of evolution and enlightenment. In other words, the life is beautiful because of the existence of death. As a student of literature and avid reader, I find ‘Rumi’ in the anthology of lyrical essays, Prashnaharu ta Baqi nai Rahanchhan… written by Nepali poet and essayist, Momila. She has already published half-a dozen of anthologies of poetry however in essay writing, this is her second effort. Like the first one, Ishworko Adalatma Outsiderko Bayan (An Outsider in the Court of God), she leads an existential movement against her own-self.

Momila’s literary journey continues with her distinctive first-person writing technique, which captivates readers by expressing her innermost thoughts and emotions so vividly that one forgets they are merely reading a book. In her latest anthology, divided into “Astitwo Uthsav” and “Sambedanharu,” she beautifully incorporates 23 lyrical essays. Through these sections, with 14 essays in the first and 9 in the second, she establishes a speaker ‘I’ that is not only cognizant and extroverted in literary expression but also intellectual and authentically true to herself.

The anthology opens with “Merai Chhayako Bidroha ra Aswikrit Grahan,” where Momila delves into why her own shadow seems to rebel against her. Through the use of symbols and imagery, a hallmark of her essays, she uses the ‘shadow’ to represent life’s challenges. Momila articulates a philosophy where the pain of life is what makes it precious and meaningful, aspiring to “compose a harmonious melody of compassion” by confronting sorrow rather than evading it. Known for her poetic expertise, her essays abound with imagery, metaphors, and semiotics. In “Sambhavit Putaliko Vartaman,” for instance, she casts herself as a female protagonist filled with optimism for her future despite current adversities, embodying the transformation from a caterpillar with the keenness of becoming a butterfly soon.

Dominated by the sense of existentialism, conversing with Laxmi Prasad Devkota in an evening she asks what attracts him so that he is consuming slow poison, a cigarette. She advocates this world is beautiful, colorful even though problems exist, sufferings exist. Emphasizing resilience and tenacity, she admires “a flower that blooms midst of thorns,” celebrating the beauty of those who confront challenges to affirm their existence.

In the search of existence, the writer cherishes the misapprehension death of her own. In her essay “Mrityu Saundarya”, she explains that long ago she migrated to the town in order to fulfil her dreams. However, the shattered dreams are making her life ugly. Even at this stage, she has no any objection with the turmoil she faced in her life because without them, she has no existence at all. Instead of wandering into the materialistic world being unsatisfied, she accepts the ultimate reality of life – the death. With this realization and acceptance of death, she feels elated and claims that death exists so the colorful life exists. To her, “death takes away not a body but only the consciousness”. She insists lack of sense or consciousness is what makes a person feels no pain of death, thus, death is beautiful. Reflecting on an earthquake and its aftermath, she critiques leaders’ failures but still finds beauty in life’s chaos, much like a beautiful sunset. This is where she connects with Socrates’ ideas. Socrates views death as the emancipation of the soul, and as such, it should be approached with calm, as long as we know we have lived our lives to the fullest. The Socratic viewpoint on death is a lovely way of approaching the end of our lives, and it serves not only to alleviate our dread of death, but also to motivate us to spend our lives as virtuous, just and moral beings.

The author embraces a life full of contrasts, from joy to sorrow and light to darkness, seeing value in the full spectrum of human experience. She believes that life’s meaning comes from navigating its highs and lows, embodying a philosophy where struggle is not just inevitable but valuable, shaping our identity. Rejecting the pursuit of perfection, she finds beauty in being “zero,” a state where all is encompassed and nothing is excluded. Her viewpoint resonates with the Wabi-Sabi philosophy, which celebrates the beauty in imperfection and the natural cycle of growth and decay. This perspective invites readers to appreciate the imperfect and transient nature of life, finding joy and beauty in the imperfections that define our existence.

In this anthology, the author powerfully portrays her character ‘I’ as a courageous and admirable hero. She vividly describes the harsh truth of a society that diminishes women under various situations calling different names. Behind the tears of Nepali women lie the painful stories of being undervalued. She observes how society idolizes traditions yet paradoxically feels threatened by educated women. Highlighting the societal norms where women are seen as objects to satisfy desires but not honored for their intellect, she voices her deep dissatisfaction with this discriminatory treatment. To challenge the mainstream social group, she is going “to be a warrior of undeclared war”, the war against the dogmatic beliefs of the rooted patriarchy.

The author embraces her identity as a woman, challenging traditional and oppressive beliefs with optimism. She believes that “Being hopeful is halfway to life, being sad is halfway to death,” suggesting that hope plays a crucial role in overcoming adversities. She draws parallels between her experiences and those of iconic figures such as ‘Majnu’, ‘Sita’, and ‘Muna’, whose stories of struggle are captivating because they fought against their fates. In her essay, “Priya Patraharu Astitwo Uthsavma”, she celebrates strong feminist icons like “Nora” from Henrik Ibsen’s ‘A Doll’s House’, “Anuradha” from Bijay Malla’s novel of same name, and the ‘unnamed outsider’ from her own first collection of essays, “An Outsider in the Court of God”. Through these references, she exposes how our patriarchal system visualizes daughters as ‘outsiders’ and presents them as if they are ‘culprits’.

The essays carry the vast philosophies of life and death. The crisis of humanity, the growing desire for materialistic things, patriotism and nationalism, search of one’s true self etc. are the common issues advocated in essays in poetic style. The writer reflects on patriotism and nationalism, alongside the complexities of political shifts and dominations within the nation. As an eyewitness to many deaths and several political movements, she expresses her political conscience in the line, “One can kill a person but not his/her thoughts.”

Even though skillfully crafted lines with deep philosophical ideas, the essays might not be easily accessible to the everyday reader. The frequent use of English terminologies gives the impression that the author adopts a contemporary mode of inter-linguistic exchange of words. Moreover, this collection of essays demands readers who are not only intellectually sound but also have a robust understanding of language, literature, and philosophy. With their lyrical tone, heavy use of metaphors, semiotics, and profound imagination, the essays resemble philosophical poems in free verse. However, for readers who appreciate life’s imperfections, this anthology unfolds as ‘a surprise of mystery,’ leaving them with lasting questions long after they’ve turned the last page.

To sum up, the anthology Prashnaharu ta Baqi nai Rahanchhan… by Momila is a thorough investigation of life, death, and existence that is skillfully interwoven with themes of philosophical and introspective contemplation. In addition to exploring the depths of human experience and encapsulating the essence of struggle, resiliency, and the beauty found in imperfection in her pieces, Momila also takes aim at patriarchal frameworks and society conventions that often stifle the soul. Momila’s work invites us into a place where fear of death fades and is replaced with an appreciation for the cyclical nature of life and the transformative power of embracing one’s true self in the face of adversity. Her literary journey redefines the meaning of life and the craft of storytelling, leaving a lasting impression on the reader. It is characterized by an unwavering hope and a celebration of the imperfect but beautiful fabric of life.

Prashnaharu ta Baqi nai Rahanchhan… | (An Anthology of Lyrical Essays)

Author: Momila

Publisher: PageTurner Pvt. Ltd, Baghbazar

Cover Design: Times Creation

Pages: 153

Price: Rs. 450 / $15

Credits:
Originally published on: Sahityapost

Published Date: March 25, 2024  (2:06 PM)

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Deepawali

In the twilight glow, the lamps arise, 
Deepawali whispers under starlit skies, 
Colors dance, a vibrant sight, 
Hearts unite with joy and light. 

Deusi-bhailo, in rhythm we sing, 
Celebration flows as the festive bells ring, 
Footsteps echo on cobblestone streets, 
Neighbors gather, where laughter meets. 

With sweets and treats, we share our fare, 
Bright rangoli painted with love and care, 
Parents smile, children gleam, 
In every moment, we weave a dream. 

Candles flicker, illuminating hope, 
In the warmth of love, we learn to cope, 
Glowing diyas chase shadows away, 
In unity, we find our way. 

Music soars, our voices rise, 
Underneath the moonlit skies, 
Deusi-bhailo, a joyful refrain, 
Binding our hearts, easing the pain. 

As dawn approaches, the night will fade, 
Memories linger, the bonds we've made, 
Through Deepawali, our spirits soar, 
In light, we find peace, forevermore.

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In the Land of Broken Dreams

In our hills where whispers roam,
The sun shines bright but feels like stone,
The bustling streets, once full of cheer,
Now echo sighs that none can hear.

The hustlers toil, day and night,  
Their backs are bent, they fight the fight,  
With sweat on brows and hope in eyes,  
While leaders scheme in lavish lies.

"They're honest!" We chant, "They care!"  
Yet empty hands just grasp the air,  
In power's grip, the wrongdoers cling,  
While honest hearts hear freedom sing.

Through marches bold, our voices rise,  
"We seek the truth!" we call through cries,  
Yet every vote, a card that's played,  
As truth gets lost in charades displayed.

Corruption drips like poisoned rain,  
The smuggled hopes, a silent pain,  
Extortion greets our every plea,  
While dreamers drown in apathy.

Oh, noble hearts that break the mold,  
You trust in tales that once were told,  
But in the shadows, greed takes flight,  
Turning daydreams into night.

Nepal, sweet land of golden past,  
Why is your light so dimmed at last?  
For those who play the crooked game,  
Their thirst for power burns like flame.

With hunger gnawing at our bones,  
The cries of children echo in tones,  
"Where is the change? Where is the care?"  
In every heart, a silent dare.

So let’s unite, hand in hand,  
To bring back hope to this fair land,  
For in our souls, the fire glows,  
With dreams of peace that never close.

Together we’ll rise, we’ll break the chain,  
In unity, we’ll share the pain,  
And push aside the dust of greed,  
For every Nepali, we’ll sow the seed.

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Threads of Connection

In the heart of Nepal, where rivers flow,  

A bond between generations, rich and aglow.  

The youngest often reach with a call or a text,  

Yet it's the elders’ wisdom that truly connects.  

Oh, elders, with stories from ages gone by,  

Your guidance is treasure, under the vast sky.  

Teach us the manners, the values you hold,  

For in your soft whispers, our futures unfold.  

In laughter and lessons, let unity reign,  

Without your embrace, love could wane and wane.  

A message, a visit, just a moment to share,  

Fosters the ties that we’re all meant to bear.  

When silence grows louder, and the distance expands,  

The fabric of family slips through our hands.  

For it's not just the young who must reach for the phone,  

It’s the duty of elders to guide us, their own.  

So, take up the mantle, extend out your hand,  

In every small gesture, let connection withstand.  

For years may pass swiftly, like whispers in breeze,  

But love shared in presence, will grant us our peace.  

Don’t let the gaps widen, don’t let the ties fray,  

Stay in touch with your kin; light their pathway.  

In laughter, in sorrow, let your wisdom be known,  

For our hearts are the seeds from the love we have sown.  

Let’s nurture these roots, tend the garden we share,  

With respect and with kindness, breathe family air.  

In the tapestry woven, let your threads brightly gleam,  

For together we flourish, in this beautiful dream.

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Beauty over Broom

In a house where clutter’s got a sturdy stance,  

Dwells a wife who’s mastered the beauty dance.  

With a broom in one hand, and a brush in the other,  

She sweeps and she slays, like a fashion had mother.  

“Oh, darling,” she sighs, with a glimmering eye,  

“Life’s a tough grind,” but she’s ready to fly.  

Dishes unsorted, laundry piled high,  

Yet her eyebrows are lifted, her lashes will fly.  

To the beauty salon, she’s a queen on her throne,  

While the dust bunnies gather, neglected, alone.  

“Realistic,” she claims, with a mask on her face,  

But the only real thing is her ongoing chase.  

“Moderation!” she cries, as she orders up two,  

Sprays and tonics, and brightening glue.  

Her phone's buzzing fiercely:  “Another new trend!”  

A selfie, a filter, a blemish to mend.  

The world’s full of chaos and visible grime,  

Yet her world is glimmering; she’s right on time.  

“Who has the heart for chores in this race?”  

A primped princess, she evades common space.  

At playdates, she talks of the latest regime,  

“You simply must try this new serum, it’s supreme!”  

And while others are baking, cooking dinner with ease,  

She’s perfecting her pout, all while sipping on teas.  

“Hard work?” she asserts, “Oh, it’s such a chore!”  

But she doesn’t quite care—she’s off to explore  

The magic of facials, and nails painted bright,  

While she leaves the housework to dust in the light.  

So here’s to the wife, both deluded and spry,  

Chasing aesthetics as the laundry piles high.  

Realism’s just a glamorous guise  

For kingdom of mirrors, not practical lives.

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The Periodic Table

Let us remember the elements of the periodic table through the poem:

Hydrogen, helium, lithium to start,

Beryllium, boron, carbon play a part.

Nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine pure,

Neon, sodium, magnesium endure.

Aluminum, silicon, phosphorus bright,

Sulfur, chlorine, argon bring light.

Potassium, calcium, scandium swirl,

Titanium, vanadium, chromium unfurl.

Manganese, iron, cobalt strong,

Nickel, copper, zinc belong.

Gallium, germanium, arsenic glide,

Selenium, bromine, krypton hide.

Rubidium, strontium, yttrium soar,

Zirconium, niobium, molybdenum explore.

Technetium, ruthenium, rhodium gleam,

Palladium, silver, cadmium beam.

Indium, tin, antimony grace,

Tellurium, iodine, xenon embrace.

Cesium, barium, lanthanum bloom,

Cerium, praseodymium, neodymium groom.

Promethium, samarium, europium spark,

Gadolinium, terbium, dysprosium dark.

Holmium, erbium, thulium deem,

Ytterbium, lutetium, hafnium dream.

Tantalum, tungsten, rhenium shine,

Osmium, iridium, platinum refine.

Gold, mercury, thallium call,

Lead, bismuth, polonium all.

Astatine, radon, francium rare,

Radium, actinium, thorium fare.

Protactinium, uranium, neptunium peer,

Plutonium, americium, curium clear.

Berkelium, californium, einsteinium follow,

Fermium, mendelevium, nobelium bestow.

Lawrencium, rutherfordium, dubnium charm,

Seaborgium, bohrium, hassium disarm.

Meitnerium, darmstadtium, roentgenium zest,

Copernicium, nihonium, flerovium quest.

Moscovium, livermorium, tennessine strive,

Oganesson, the end, elements alive.

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Dashain

Dashain, the biggest and most important festival in Nepal, is a multi-day Hindu festival celebrated with great fervor and enthusiasm. This festival is also known as Dashera or Vijaya Dashami in some regions. It falls in the month of Ashwin (September/October) according to the Hindu lunar calendar and typically lasts for 15 days. Dashain holds immense cultural and religious significance for Nepalese people, symbolizing the victory of good over evil.

One of the central myths associated with Dashain is the legendary tale of the goddess Durga and the demon Mahishasura. According to Hindu mythology, Mahishasura was a powerful demon who wreaked havoc on Earth, causing destruction and chaos. To defeat him and restore balance, the gods united their powers to create the fierce goddess Durga. In a fierce battle that lasted for nine days and nights, Durga fought Mahishasura, eventually slaying him on the tenth day, which is known as Vijaya Dashami. This victory of Durga over Mahishasura symbolizes the triumph of good over evil, and during Dashain, devotees worship the goddess Durga and seek her blessings for protection and prosperity.

Another important myth associated with Dashain is the story of Lord Ram's victory over the demon king Ravana. According to the epic Ramayana, Lord Ram, along with his wife Sita and brother Lakshman, defeated the demon king Ravana after a fierce battle that lasted for ten days. Lord Ram's victory is celebrated as a triumph of righteousness and truth over evil and falsehood. During Dashain, the story of Lord Ram is recited, and effigies of Ravana are burnt in symbolic representation of the victory of good.

Dashain is a time for family gatherings, feasting, and merrymaking. Homes are cleaned and decorated, and people wear new clothes and receive blessings from their elders. Special puja ceremonies are conducted, offerings are made to the gods, and animals like buffaloes, goats, and chickens are sacrificed as part of the ritual, symbolizing the sacrifice of evil forces within oneself.

In conclusion, Dashain is a vibrant and joyous festival that brings communities together to celebrate shared beliefs and values. Through various rituals, myths, and traditions, Dashain reinforces the importance of virtues like truth, courage, and righteousness in overcoming adversity and achieving victory. It is a time of renewal, reflection, and celebration, marking the triumph of good over evil and the eternal power of hope and faith.

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Wifi Router

There once was a router so tall,

Hung on the wall in a hall,

It would blink and it'd beep,

But its WiFi was weak,

So it wasn't much use at all!

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Dashain and Tihar

In the heart of Autumn’s gentle sway,  

Two festivals dawn, lighting the way;  

Dashain first, with its grandeur and grace,  

A time for family, a sacred embrace.  

Goddess Durga rides fierce through the night,  

Vanquishing demons, restoring the light;  

With each flower and offering laid,  

A tapestry of devotion is beautifully made.  

The air filled with joy as the kalash is set,  

Kites soaring high, in skies they beget;  

Ancestral blessings, we seek and we take,  

Strength in our bonds, for our loved ones' sake.  

Then comes Tihar, the festival of lights,  

A dance of the lamps on the luminous nights;  

With marigold garlands and feasts that entice,  

We honor our loved ones, oh, how sweet is life!  

The crow, the dog, and the cow in their due,  

Each life valued, each spirit held true;  

With the flicker of diyas, the stories are spun,  

A celebration of love, where all hearts are one.  

Sisters and brothers, we share in the cheer,  

With laughter and music, our hearts draw near;  

The sounds of the drums, the sweet festive calls,  

In this colorful tapestry, unity enthralls.  

Dashain and Tihar, two jewels that combine,  

In the cultural mosaic, their brilliance will shine;  

As we gather together, in joy we partake,  

In the spirit of love, and the bonds that we make.

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