A little bit of Everything!

7/1/2015

A little bit of love

Like sunshine through the clouds,

A little bit of Companionship

Turns the world around.

 

A little bit of confusion

To lose the path,

A little bit of Distraction

And misguidance to end up in wrath.

 

A little bit of grief

Distress, pain and dejection,

A little bit of havoc

Daring the entire conviction.Happiness_ 2014

 

A little bit of Turmoil,

To burn the confidence,

A little bit of Shame

For self  Reflection.

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You start dying slowly – By Pablo Neruda

I read this poem and loved every word of it 🙂

You start dying slowly
if you do not travel,
if you do not read,
If you do not listen to the sounds of life,
If you do not appreciate yourself.
You start dying slowlyUP
When you kill your self-esteem;
When you do not let others help you.
You start dying slowly
If you become a slave of your habits,
Walking everyday on the same paths…
If you do not change your routine,
If you do not wear different colours
Or you do not speak to those you don’t know.
You start dying slowly
If you avoid to feel passion
And their turbulent emotions;
Those which make your eyes glisten
And your heart beat fast.
You start dying slowly
If you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job, or with your love,
If you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,
If you do not go after a dream,
If you do not allow yourself,
At least once in your lifetime,
To run away from sensible advice…
~ Pablo Neruda

Invocation

(a request from this loving daughter to her loving parents)

7/7/2014

Let me fly high like a bird;
Let me soar and take new directions;
You have given me my wings;
And taught me to make this world my home;
You have made me who I am;
Given me all these values and beliefs;
Now dont ask me to cease being me;
And exchange it for a naught;
Freedom and respect are what I want;
Now dont make me trade them off;
Let me wander, let me choose my path;
Let me make my own mistakes and find my worth;
I dont know where these winds will take me;
I wont make promises nor any predictions;
I might give it all up and come home;
Or I might fight and own it all;
But let me live and grow by my heart;
And please dont panic that I might loose;
A race I have never wanted to run;
A compromise I dont want to make;
A strange nest where I will never belong;
Trust me when I say that this is what I want;
To fly high; achieve more and stay the way I am.

New Year’s Wish!

1st Jan 2014bouganinville

New Year’s Day! Holiday after a long time and I am basking in the winter sun, staring particularly at nothing, enjoying uncensored Laziness! Then a cold wind passes by, and my eye catches the Bougainville branch moving along the wind. I see the Bougainville tree, in my garden, at least twice a day; when I go to college, and when I come back from work. I have been seeing the plant , for the past 8 or 9 years, or more. It has always been here! I have admired it, when its full of Pink lovely blossoms; cursed it when its leaves drop and litter our porch; watered sometimes; felt sorry for it when my father trimmed t short. But today, I am thinking what it feels like to be this Bougainville!

I look at the branch that is swinging with the wind! The leaves are sprouting, must be a growing branch. The pink sepals are budding too. There are few thorns to it, not prickly, but thorns for the sake of thorns. I look to its other branches, cartwheeling in all directions, unruly; despite my father’s best efforts! Tied to the rope and going all the way to our balcony all the way from the ground; bridging the ants to our balcony!

I look at its main stem! Wow, that’s big; I remember it when it was planted years ago, a tiny thin stem was all it was! Planted in the wrong season, and my Ma had said, “This will never survive, it should have been planted in Asar.” If it could feel, I wonder how our bougainvillea must have felt, upon hearing My Maa. And here it is: thick and flowery! Continue reading

On this Bhaitika :)

5th November 2013

For my Babu 🙂

Making a space for you, with the Ratomato, brown and pure,
Symbolizing the vast space that you own in my heart,
Which will continue to be yours for sure,
Through the years to come and part.

Babu, there I will then draw a Universe for you,
To show how much significant you have made mine,
With your very existence and love so true,
Adored, Seraphic and Divine.

With the Abir of Happy Yellows and Reds;
And the joyful hundred petal-ed flowers,
I will make sure your path is overflown with courage and bliss
where joy, contentment and happiness always showers.

I will make stars of Tyaa for you too,
And will scatter them around your universe,
I will then put all my gods next to you,
To protect you from all the evil and menace. Continue reading

Stories :P

27 April 2013

I travel frequently on tempo. In a tempo, as you are seated face to face with fellow passengers, you really don’t have an option but to stare at your co-passengers. I find it pretty amusing. You meet all kinds of people in Tempo and I find it pretty interesting to size them, let’s say, figure them out. I don’t believe a person is altogether good or bad, everyone is unique; a distinct case study, each of them. Sometimes, I find people, complete strangers who intrigue me with their dispositions. Don’t call me shallow, I am not judging strangers. I observe them, without exchanging any courtesies, any dialogues. It’s a mere observation. I like observing them, it’s really fascinating; linking out the dots and making up their stories. Conjuring stories actually!

When I pass a so-called “mentally-sick” person on the road, it intrigues me! I wonder what made them defy the conventional “happy” life and chose the streets, laughing and smiling with themselves, locked up in their own worlds, oblivious to the world around them. Obviously, their definition of happiness is different from mine but what must have made them like that? Questions pop in, as I conjure up the best possible explanations! And then, I see another old lady, the age of my grandmother begging up on the streets, with an array of coins displayed on her front sack. Shouldn’t she be at her home with her grand-children, sharing stories of her time and praying to book their seat in heaven! But there she is, begging for her evening meal! Heaven, still a distant wish! Could this be a story of a cruel daughter-in-law? Can it be that she was a cruel mother-in-law herself, who was thrown out by her family? Did she even have kids? Did she fall in love, when she was my age? Questions, assumptions, stories!nerdy  Continue reading

When Headlights didn’t Work!

20th December 2012

It was late, cold and dark, a typical winter evening. I was waiting for a tempo, at Bijulibazaar, to take me home. Tempos are 3- wheeled public vehicles that run on Electrical / LPG Energy also known as TukTuk, rampant on the Kathmandu roads. Lifehouse Band was playing “Blind” in my ears. After a long wait, a tempo arrived. It took me a second to register the route, had to ask the boy at the front seat, where the Tempo was headed.”Lagankhel”,came the shrill reply. “The driver could have put on the front lights,” I murmured to myself and got inside the back of the tempo. The tempo was pack. A tiny bulb was lit inside. After making myself comfortable in the little space, available for me, I stared at the passenger across me. A middle-aged lady, with a big, golden earrings stared back to me. I then looked left and right to her. One of my fellow co-passengers was a college girl, in uniform; two were uncles, one with a mustache and the other without, while there was a young mother at the far right, with her infant on her lap . There were 3 more ladies to my left and an elderly gentleman to my left who was asleep, drooling at his mouth, head resting on the window. I also threw a glance at the front too. The driver was a lady.
After glancing 120 degrees, and getting stared back at, I began examining my Wellington boots, all worn and dusty! “My poor Wellingtons!” I sighed. “Victims of the road expansion drive, Jai Baburam!” A few minutes later, I realized that the tempo was moving at a snail pace. Tempos are, by default , slow moving vehicles, but this one was unnaturally slow. I took off my earplugs and stared at the lady across me. “Why is this moving so slow?,” I inquired  She pouted her lips and replied, “The front light stopped working, re!” Other passengers also nodded in unison, disapproval clear in the nods.

I shot a look at the front seat. Without the earpluggender-equality-scaless, now I heard the conversation. The kid was looking down from the window and telling the driver, his mother to keep moving. “Its okay, no holes”, he would say to the driver, and she would keep the vehicle rolling straight. He would also flash lights occasionally to where the front tyre of the tempo is, making sure the tempo wasn’t heading for a hole or depression. The people were angry and restless. “Its getting late”, the lady with the baby shouted to the driver, “If you cant take us fast, then let us get off and take another vehicle, that will go fast.” The driver, without looking behind, made a meek reply, “The light was working till Maitighar, I don’t know what happened suddenly. I cannot see the road without the light. That is why; I am driving slowly, to avoid accidents”.

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