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Perspectives

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Those little whimsical, playful, and cheerful kids celebrating their no-school day blocking these small streets inside Kathmandu valley asking for small changes to buy extra chocolates and chips to the motorbikes and small vehicles that pass by. Those Lil kids had their own way of claiming their right to be loved. I could see their excitement when a bike owner extended a 10 rupees note out of his pocket. I could also see their sense of understanding when someone honestly said that he has no money at all to help them for their extra confectionery or a 30 minutes video game in a local cybercafe. Some gave, some didn’t. Some acted themselves like kids, told that they didn’t have bucks, and later gave them a 10. While some acted like a lawyer and told them that it was wrong to ask for money with random people on the way. Just look around, it’s afternoon, and I am not inside an atmosphere of colorful papers and expensive brightness. I could see the young and middle-aged women with high-heel
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Make it rain

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1 2: stand on my shoe 3 4: you'll know for sure 5 6: it's hard to fix 7 8: you lost the bet 9 10: Please make it rain and I'll tell you everything. Everything I want to tell you. Everything you want to know. This skin needs some missed drops of water from the sad cloud that couldn't hold its heavyweight, that couldn't bear the pain from the collision and chose to let it out.  It's raining. Now I am not me, but you instead. You can see it outside the half-opened window. Sometimes the blow of wind into your room makes you feel cold, as the drops of rainwater hit you all over your face. The city is all asleep dreaming of conquering the world. No human sound to overcome the sound of the torrential rain, and no lights to navigate on the highway of the darkest night. You look around. Confined within the walls from all the directions with the constant hope of the cool breeze through the windows from the outside world, every day every night. What is the deal? Why do you
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The December 24

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Many December 24 will come and go, but one will never pass without me remembering that particular one and my feelings of frustration, fear, loneliness, and the warmth and tenderness of the alcohol that somehow will make it all bearable. OB LA DI OB LA DA, Life goes on. It goes on. It goes on, but in a way the steps are staggering, losing its control but never will it fall. Some unknown faith will keep it moving on the crowded highway without proper navigation. But how will life ever know what's keeping it from falling on the road causing the ultimate destiny to run all over you and call it the end. The motionless night, that's deep in my sight, my ship is 1000s of miles left from the point, now can't make it right. That point can still be seen from here, clearly, much detailed that it becomes a confusion at times, and tries to fade into oblivion, but never does. I wish it never does. It will never do.
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Even Today!

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The Earth hasn't stopped moving. It was yesterday, yet a long time ago things were intolerably witnessed causing something that mattered turned out to be bitter by drastically altering the perspective of almost everyone I know in this community. Perspectives changed, opinions changed, greetings changed, greeting back of greetings changed, smile changed into a frown, hello changed into a reluctant smile, conversations became lesser, changed, and then stopped. But the result of the wholehearted efforts accidentally and unfortunately remained as per the already written story. Now, everything says no force can make it just the way I once wished for. I am left with no choice but to accept and carry on. Let's say, let's be convinced that it's ok, because that's what I have to say. Despite realizing the aftermath of the situation and its possible reaction, even today, I find myself not being able to accept the reality and push the bad to the way of the worst. The situation
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The Name

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May brought me here. December never stops to follow me, and I shall never stop chasing after 1224. Kamana School Open. I saw that on a hoarding board from the window next to my seat on a public bus. Some add a deep word before the word that's already deeper making it the deepest in the eyes of a broken pieces. Familiar with cruel noises, used to with dust and aggressive gases; the name is blurred hiding its deep meaning to those lacking enough Vitamin A on their flesh and bones. And I don't lack the A 'cause I can not afford to not see the word and feel it inside deeper than the meaning of the word itself. It should be Kamana Open School instead. The school of feelings. A school that trains the heart to learn and understand the pain of love and love of pain with no restriction, but with an open heart to feel everything the Name has taught you back in life, today, and forever. The name didn't hold much meaning than its actual meaning before I got to feel the real meaning
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Fear of Uncertainty

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To play yourself false about planning the future while deep down you actually are struggling to make it to Saturday, to only fantasize normal ability as a gem and watch it show magic to the world while yourself sitting in the comfortable armchair on the balcony of fortune, to keep adding bullets in the bucket list and wait for the faintest hope make the dreams come true. Ask me if this would work. Ask me how this would work. I don’t speak a word about it. I now know that next time before dropping any bullets on the list, I shall put that bullet into much consideration. About half a life is no more with me, just a couple of memories which I believe would serve my heart even after I kick the bucket (if there really is Soul that they believe), it was yesterday, and that’s gone, wouldn’t help me with my list. And the possible half of my life is not my friend, not even acquaintance. He is Oliver. Let’s say he is Oliver Walker who I haven’t met, not sure how empathetic or coldhearted he wo
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Recalling Remembering

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Sometimes I close my eyes and remember remembering you the last time on the bus while getting back from work, when I’m trying to sleep, and when I‘m walking on the drizzling rain on the lonely street at 10 in the evening, while taking a long drag on my cigarette with sips of coffee, the time when I will be on the airplane seat flying abroad pursuing my destiny. This time the memories are less clearer than the last time I remembered you while doing the dishes at my place with some nostalgic music in the background, and it’s fading away with every single rotation of the Earth, with every sleeps of night, the nap of the day, and blink of these eyes. This is how the brain works, and how you forget him, her, them, things, and everything with time. But the written letters, words, and phrases of feelings last longer as long as the papers ain’t torn. The papers are not torn yet. All the pieces of paper are small but hold much, much that matters to me. The time that shall never slip by, th
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