souvenir

  • One night of a college student

    A spacious room features an unusually large window facing east, with two beds on either side. One bed is positioned right next to the window, accompanied by a table and chair facing outward. The other table is situated between two beds on the north side, with a rocking chair. Two college students, Kaya and Naz, inhabit this room. An open laptop on the table facing the window displays a homework assignment, as if someone is in the midst of working. There’s an open pen on the table. The only source of light in the room comes from the study lamp on the table facing the window and the ambient light outside. The window is wide open, and “Gnossienne: No. 1” softly plays in the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of sobbing.

    The bed closer to the door on the west appears unused, with neatly layered blankets and precisely placed seven pillows, suggesting no one has slept there for a long time. The layered blankets also hold a pile of clothes. The half of the room towards the window is adorned with numerous motivational quotes taped to the wall, all centered around themes of achieving success through hard work, dedication, sacrifice, love for school, and perseverance. The abundance of quotes almost feels like a distraction from one’s true self rather than inspiration, steering them away from authenticity and towards an ideal pasted on the wall.

    Naz is seated in the corner of the room next to her table, her head down and tucked between her legs. The force with which she wraps herself seems capable of turning her into a black hole or causing her to vanish. She raises her head, gazing at a picture frame beside her, featuring a man and a woman holding a little girl in a jeans jumper. Next to her is a notebook with a vibrant peacock on the hardcover. She opens the notebook to the page where she left her pen, reading the words in black ink, “I just want everything to stop. Just freeze. Stop.” She takes the black pen, aggressively scratches out the words, sighs, and drops the notebook and pen on the floor. Slowly getting up with the picture, she places it next to the lamp on her table, facing towards the chair, and sits down. Staring at the laptop screen, her phone beside it, and her notebook on the table with the pen without the lid, tears start falling again. She takes the pen without the lid, puts the lid back on, and places it next to her phone. She puts her head down on the table.

    The lamp on her table starts flickering and goes off. Her laptop, cellphone, and iPad all shut down, as if all the energy has been drained. Suddenly, a strong ray of light enters the room through a small space between the blinds. She gets up in the dark room, unable to discern where she is walking, but moves toward the light. As she approaches the light, it dims, slowly dissolving into the background. Desperately trying to catch the dissolving light, she moves the blinds aside to let it all in, only to find complete darkness. There is not a single light source, not in her room, nor outside. It is pitch black. She stands there for some time, slowly sinking into the darkness. She hears a hubbub, as if every single person on the planet has started talking.

    “What is going on?”

    “Are you okay?”

    “Did the power go out for you too?”

    “I don’t have it either.”

    After some time, the hubbub stops. She lets go of her body and lies down. The only sound is the sound of her inhale and exhale. The world is filled with a silence that is almost painful, yet she has a smile on her face.

    Suddenly, the door opens. It’s Kaya.

    “Naz, wake up!”

    “Naz?”

    Naz lifts her head off her table and looks bewilderedly at Kaya.

    “Did you fall asleep while studying again?”

    Naz looks at her Casio watch on her right wrist; it is 3 am in the morning.

  • My wedding

    A grand, yet very small

    In front of few important people

    Playing Ravi Shankar’s sitar music in the background

    Ocassionally Yanni

    Ocassionally soundtracks from Wes ANDERSON’s movies

    Like children’s book, filled with vibrant colors

    Celebrating and promising a bond of lifetime

    With everything of my wish

    But I am somewhere spaced out

    Among Shankar’s sitar strings

    At Moonrise Kingdom1 with my love

    I look to my side, not my love

    Everything of my wish, a compensate for going against my wish

    My Wedding

    – by AP

    This was so weird. I was working on my school stuff listening to Ravi Shankar and all of a sudden these words rushed in me demanding to be written. Unlike other times, I was quite focused too so I don’t know how this came about, but satisfactory I guess. TY!

  • hope

    There is nothing to be found, as there is nothing lost

    There is nothing to be fixed, as there is nothing broken

    There is no happiness, as there is no sadness.

    There is no heaven, as there is no hell

    I hope I don’t hope for anything, as I have everything.

    I hoped not to hope, but I am still hoping

  • Today she died

    Today she died

    I don’t know…

    I have no where to go

    No gods to pray

    No place I can expect to meet her again

    Nothing that can solace my pain

    She died…

    And I know

    Because she will never ever be by my side again

    Today she died

    Maybe after all this is an alone ride

  • where the land meets the sea

    The place where the land meets the sea
    is the place I ought to be
    The land is behind me
    The open sky and the blue sea
    giving the mind a chance to be free
    Works left behind,
    No DVDs, with the loved ones I will be

    Something happens to the mind while playing in the water
    I become a child of an age, less than mine by a quarter

    The place where lands meets the sea
    “To be or not to be [1]”

    [1] Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 1

    Your phone doesn’t have an internet, you might have some downloaded music, but are tired of listening to the limited number of music after thirty minutes or so. You might have some work to do which you have set up on your laptop to make it possible to do offline. You might even have a book, on top of that romance novel with a drama. That should be enough pass the time on a five hours long flight? Well, it was not for me. I had just finished my two and half months long internship and was heading back home directly after work. I had an evening flight (just because it was cheaper) and a window sit which I chose so that I could look outside. I love flying. It is not a regular thing for me. I barely fly once in two years so everytime I am on a plane I act as if it is as comparable as an adventure like skydiving, bungee jumping, or a crazy roller coaster ride. Why not? I am clapping in every landing. I might not do it out loud, but I do it in my heart. Also why not? I trusted millions of people with my life to fly on this big bird and they stood upto to my trust and sometimes even beyond with an excellent customer service so a clap is least I can do. Although my long legs feels cramped up after a long flight.

    Anyways, I spent most of my flight staring out of the window. I had to work hard to see the vibrant parts of the sky as I accidently got a sit right behind the right wing and it blocked my view most of the time. I had to sit leaning front resting my chin on my palm to view the sky from the window that was infornt of my window. The only moment I was not staring out of the window was when I needed to strech my arm to get rid of the numbness. It was totally worth it. The brief visibility of blue-orrange-yellow-gray-black sky, the twinkly lights on the ground, the openess of the world outside the window and the compactness of my plane space was a perfect habitat for a wandering mind.

    Looking at all the lights beneath me I wonder what exactly denotes the presence of human in an area? A walking soul mostly has a source of light on them. Mostly, a house has a awake human if there is a presence of any light despite the sources. It could be from the light bulb, from a mobile phone, laptop, etc.

  • Morning

    It is a room with a large window, a brown sturdy table in the center, a gray and orange couch shoved on two side of the room. There are couple big paintings on the wall, and a whiteish gray rug almost covering the entire floor. It’s Saturday, Saayi is alseep on the couch with a dirty light blue rug covering almost 80% of her body. Her right leg on the ground and the other leg resting uncomfortably on the couch. She looks as if she had to squeez herself short to fit on the couch. Her long legs never hang from couches or chairs or benches unless they are abnormally tall. She takes a slight turn and tries to adjust her head on the cushion, but fails. Her head overflows from the couch and her right arm hangs down from her body and her fingers caressing the rug. Her eyes are shut, atleast she is trying to keep them shut, but her mind knows that it’s time to wake up.

    The list of things she needs to do start flashing in her mind. School work. Research work. Paying work. Her professor. Her parents. Her dogs. All the emails she needs to send. Cooking food, doing groceries, going for a run, and all other things that demands some sort of mental or physical power, plays in her mind like a boringly long yet important power point slideshow. The brain works hard to come up with things to make one wake up. She takes another turn and pulls the blanket over her head which causes her feet to show. She feels the cold in her feet. She brings herself into the fetus position and wishes she never have to get out of her mother’s womb. She finds this weird and funny on how often she wishes she didn’t exist. Especially on a weekend. Immediately, she apologies for that wish and thanks for everything in her life.

    “Who am I thanking?”

    “Universe? No, light? No, parents?No, JUST GO BACK TO SLEEP”

    She grunts, twists and turns. She cannot fathom the situation that is going on.

    Today is saturday and Saayi can sleep, but the waking up at 6am, six out of seven days of the week have trained her mind to wake up early even on a Saturday. It is how the mind works, good or bad it tend to follow the pattern and want to keep that pattern, even the pathern that you occasionally want to break. She is 22 and she thinks she already understands adulthood. She often realizes that the saddest part of adulthood is wanting to do something, but not being able to do either because of habit or prior belief system.

    The first day of her fellowship in France, she was hanging out with her work collegues. Majority of them smoked and after dinner when everyone started smoking, she got offered one. She accepted the cigratte because she wanted to smoke, but she held the cigratte and stared at it like if it was some sort of priceless art piece that she is asked to analyze. Her hand didn’t lift up to her mouth. She stood there looking at the burning cigarette and thought, “do it, just do it, do it, just once.” The offerer took the cigarette with a smile and without any remarks. She was glad. She apologized and that was that. She doesn’t want to do those things on a regular basis and she is confident on that. However, she also knows when she lays on her bed after a 17 hours day desprately trying to dive into a world which she will not remember in the morning, she thinks of cigarette, of alcohol, and of other things that she thinks might make her dive easier and faster. That’s why she knows that she should not be doing those things.

    She is mad at herself because she can’t sleep in. The morning light penetrating through the cervasses of the blinds flashes her eyes with a light of thousand football stadium lights. She finally gives up and reaches for her phone, it says 6:46 am and there is a notification saying to turn off the 7am alram. She wakes up, turns off the alram, puts on her running furnishings, and goes for a run.

  • Stay wild soul

    Dear you,

    Hope you find something that will ignite the fire in you. A wildfire that no one can stop. It might be the smallest of the smallest things that only means to you, but if it has the ability to bring joy in your life without hurting anyone than it is a fire meant be ignited. I hope you give it all if it means so much to us. We say we want to help others, but the truth is we only help oursleves. When we help ourselves to make us satisfied or happy it is in that process we end up helping others. Although we might have the goal to help others, it is soley because it brings satisfaction to our lives. It makes us feel like our life is worth living and that we did something meaningful for this world. We all have our own struggles, our own thoughts, our own sufferings, and our own journeys in this world and you have too, so keep at it. Fail, but keep at it. Fail again, but keep at it because it is never over until it is over until the last breath you take. Cheers to this whatever you call it…

    your’s truly

    PS: Thanks to Navi for our amazing discussions.

  • no title

    I was thinking about what my friend said, “Lol tara malai maatra ho ki” which roughly translates to “is it just me?” She was talking about how one of the books made her feel. Initially in my head I was thinking maybe it is not just her, but I did not say it as I was unsure of my answer. Later that question kept lingering in head with additional questions such as when we read a book do all of us take the book the same way? Do we all respond to the book the same way? This answer seems obvious now that every single reader perceives the book differently, but I was confused before, or I just cannot think over text. For example, when reading a so called “sad” book all readers might somewhat feel sad, but the sadness experienced by each reader will be different and different parts of the book might have played the role in making it sad for an individual reader. Sometimes when discussing a book with other readers we might find similarities in our experience with the book, but there will always be something unique to an individual. In addition, how often what we speak truly conveys our thoughts and emotions? So, my answer to my friend is that the things that the book made her feel is hers truly and is sacred to her. Nobody can ever exactly feel the same way that the book made her feel and O how precious that is!

    Someday we will have long chats over a tea or coffee and have a relaxing time. Although I know my friends, I feel like I have missed a huge part of their life and they have missed mine, but we make the effort to be in each other’s life which I believe is what matters. We were girls when we last saw each other and we will be grown-up humans when we meet again with different experiences and lessons learned from life. It will be a good day!

  • याद

    केहि दिन अघि देखि यो लेख्न खोज्दै छु, दिमागमा प्रश्न खेलिरहेको छ तर लेखेका कुराहरुमा केहि मनलाई चित्त बुझ्दो आएन । उपन्यास लेखिएला त भनिहाले यस्तो छ हालत…. आज फेरी लेख्न बसें फेरी सोच्दै छु, किन एउटा व्यक्तिलाई कसैको याद आउँछ ?

    के हामी याद बिना बाँच्न सक्छौँ ? 

    के यही यादहरु समाल्नका लागी हाम्रो मस्तिस्क छ? 

    र के त्यो नै हाम्रो दिमागको सबै भन्दा महत्त्वपूर्ण प्रयोजन हो ? मलाई थाहा छैन । 

    लाग्थ्यो भोगेका कुराहरु फेरी मस्तिष्कमा आउनुलाई याद आउनु भनिन्छ तर बार बार मेरो मगज मलाई मैले नभोगेका र मेरो जिवनमा नभएको कुराहरु पनि याद दिलाउँछ । अझ भनुम् ति यादहरुमा रमाउने मौका दिन्छ । समय खर्च गर्ने अर्को बाटो थपिदिन्छ । 

    वाह !! अहिले लेख्दा लेख्दै चक्षु खुल्यो ! 

    के यि याद होईनन् चाहना हुन् ?

    यि याद होईनन् चाहना हुन् । 

    वाह ! चाहना बाट सिर्जना भएका कल्पना हुन् जुन यो मस्तिष्कमा बार बार आउँछन् र बास जमाउँछन् । यो कल्पना कहिले बुनियो यो त मलाई थाहा छैन तर लाग्छ सबै भन्दा अगाडी बुनिएको कल्पनालाई नै मस्तिष्क बार बार याद गरिरहन्छ । र हरेक यादमा नयाँ नयाँ बुंधाहरु जोडिन्छन् जस्तै जोडिन्छन् उमेर सँगसँगै जिवनमा अनुभवका नयाँ बुंधाहरु । त्यस माथि पनि एक व्यक्तिको याद आउनु जस्को हुनुको त केहि फन्को छैन तर कसो कसो आशा छ माया प्रेमको, अनन्त साथको, ख्यल ठट्टाको, उहि “सिग्निफिकेन्ट अदर” (Significant other) को । यो याद जसले मनमा खुल्दुली मच्याउँछ, मुहारमा मुस्कन लेराउँछ, कुनै पनि मौसमलाई चन्चल बनाउछ, यि यादहरुमा कतिको सत्य हुने सम्भावना छ त्यो कस्ले जानु मन-मस्तिष्क  त कल्पनामै रमाउँछ ।  

    लौ ! व्याख्यात्मक टिप्पणी गर्ने साहस गरेको यो पनि कल्पनाकै खेलामा गएर अड्किन पुगेछ तर कल्पनलाई डोराउने चाहना हुन् र लाग्छ तेही इच्छा-आकांक्षा कै जगमा यादहरुको महल अडेको छ । 

    अब चाहना के को राख्ने नराख्ने ? र के चाहना पुरै एक व्यक्तिको नियन्त्रणमा हुन्छ ? यो लाग्छ आफै मनन गर्ने कुराहरु हुन् । तर परिरहेको झरीमा अज्ञात सिग्निफिकेन्ट अदरको याद आउनु चाहनाको खेल नहोला म भन्न सक्दिन । पानी परेको बेला लाग्छ यो पुरै वातावरण नै रमान्चित हुन्छ यो मन किन पछी सर्थ्यो ? त्यसमाथि झरी हेर्दै, तातो तातो चिया पिउँदै, आफ्नो मन मिल्ने साथीसँग बात मार्न पाउनु त आहा !  स्वर्ग पुगेको भन्दा कम होइन ।  

    यो लेख खै के भयो तर लाग्छ यो मेरो धेरै वर्ष देखी अनुभव गर्न नपाएको नेपालको मनसुनलाई सम्झनाको पत्र भयो । 

    ख्यल -ठट्टामा मेरो प्रिय पाठक बन्छु भन्नु भएको पाठकलाई मेरो धन्यवाद । कता-कता केहि मूर्त निर्माण गर्न प्रोत्साहान मिल्यो नत्र कहिलेकाहीँ यसता रमाइला चिन्तन पनि सोच मात्र भएर बिलाउँछन । 

  • sometimes it is what it is…

    Chey ♡

    I am so amazed by the nature of things. Right now I am home in the comfort of my bed trying to recover from covid. I was adamant on not getting covid a single time and getting over this time period, I guess it was not possible for me. Oh well, I guess loosing one story to tell my grandkids is not such a bad thing. I have million others. As for covid, I have pretty bad sore throat and eye ache, but thankfully nothing too serious.

    Anyways, right now I am on my bed, almost all my head space is focused on my recovery. Today, if things had gone by the rule, I would have to submit a big report and give a presentation which I had not even completed 50%. Yep, that is right. I simply couldn’t get myself to complete that. My brain couldn’t think at all. Many days of few hours of sleep, no excercise, just work and work, my brain just isn’t meant for that. And once I see how this all was affecting my health I don’t care if it just one last assignement I just can’t perform. All this angst doubles when I am alone. Spending time alone has done great benefit for me, but being alone when not in well head space is the worst combination for me. Everytime I hung up my parents call, I cried. I simply couldn’t understand the cause of my situation to even tell my parents. There wasn’t a specific thing that was causing any pain nor anything super bad was happening to me. I was working, doing my school work, smiling, ocassionally laughing when with others, but my mind was chaos. The nerve in my brain boiling, my inner something trying to scream every second, I would sit down to work and every time I would find myself distracted, staring into nothingness, and some time later tears running down my cheek. I would have probably gotten over it if I could wail and burst into heavy tears, but I couldn’t so it could come every now and then. I would go out for walk, but it would hit me how I have so much work to do and that just caused more pain. I don’t know what was causing all that as I am still somewhat in ripple of those events, however I have come to the point where I can at least articulate that something was happening to me. I wouldn’t be able to type this if I hadn’t gotten chance to close my eyes without any regrets because of covid. I tried to write when I was in midst of tides, but I couldn’t think I was judging myself too much. I would write couple of words and scratch the paper and lay down. Covid has given me chance to pause from whatever I was going through and reorient myself. Having covid is not a good thing and I would rather not, but boy oh boy I am almost thankful for it as it has given me chance to pause, reorient, and restart. And slowly I will reach to the shore and hopefully I will also figure out what must have caused such angst in the first place or not. I don’t know.

    After some usages, my mind becomes chaotic and every now and then I need to readjust and refoucs myself otherwise I almost forget who I am. I become the energy I have around me and not all the time the energy that is around me is good for me. I have run out of words to say for now, but I am truly thankful. I keep thanking, but sometimes I have no clue who I am thanking maybe thats why people say god, but I thank my parents, my sister, my friends, and everyone who have directly or indirectly impacted my life.

    Time is a wheel that never stops, so as long as I have my time I will not stop. Huffing and puffing, the goal is to keep walking, I hope you will too.

    laugh, love, respect, peace, and little scream of angst cause life is not easy…

    -A