Suffering

Nostalgia on bloodstream

Flowing through deeper consciousness

Times travel, not possible

happy to live in this moment

The sacred fire rises

And those agony replaced with chants

Strangled

Untamed mysery

Unlimited grief

And the trickling clock
Wiser  thougts

Rusted actions

Iterative phenomena
Seen Distrction

Accepted order

Falling temperature

The Maze

Humans are magical
As they seek belongingness

Encanted by their ego
Love with lust

Sex with andrelien rush

Epic battles between neurons

And all bio chemical reactions
Summon it, its a quality

Prefer it, it an essential

Dive into this pool of ultimate universe
Attached in the soul

Detached by only the masters

The chased and the escaper

Infinity starts with your graceful presence

Lost in the soliloquy of tender heart
obvious but mysterious feeling
vision but in presence of clues
eagerly waiting to behold by you

yes,through this poetic lines
obliquely arranged to express
the ultimate winsomeness of paramour

<

p dir=”ltr”>abraid with abut of those majesty
asthesia in the wave of those verse
slutry while you contracts your soul
highlights like habanera to me
mabbling like obscure telepathy
adynation you may feel to behold

Youth For Election( Nepal)

B: What qualities would you look for in your ideal candidate?

S: Accountability

B: Yeah, who would vote a candidate who is not accountable?

S: Influence, prestige of leader might be a factor to look after regarding vote as it can easily manipulate voter’s decision

B:Yeah, these (and more of such factors) are must to be considered. But, how do you really know if a candidate has these qualities or not? Is there a way, a layman (the majority of voters in Nepal) can choose the best candidate out of the pool?

S: I think the real confusion between voters would be who is the best or who will be the best leader whom we should select. There would no such leaders until and unless the leaders are self motivated and honest or else the possibility of creating an unbiased leader will only happen when “us” the accountable, service seekers citizen would direct/take action against the leadership which is irresponsible and unaccountable. eg: Brexit, electing Trump as president . coming back to your question let’s give any of those ‘ hit and trail’ chance to the party and person who truly consists of literate youth with enough educational background and a good experience along with diplomatic skill. lastly, I really want to relate our local election with “Velvet Revolution”.

 

A facebook chat between Basanata Dai(media person) and Subash (myself) regarding local election in Nepal which is going to happen after 22 years.

 

 

May be

May be,
the sun was hiding beneath the clouds
the hostility of the sun was not desirable.
 
may be,
the wind was blowing on her face gently
i know she was sleepy
 
may be
she was sad, not trying to smile
she wanted to cry, cry her heart out
 
may be,
I observed the phenomena wrongly
or was i attracted to her
 
 
may be,
she was happier with him
or may be i was sensitive one…………
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Nostalgia

 

In the dusty bags of memories
You dive your hands in
Curious as a child dipping his hands on a candy jar
Finding delights in your hands
Stretching your lips to the widest
And your memory to the old times
Nostalgia it is
The smell of dust with fragrance of memories
You swim through the nostalgic hallway
To the times you kept in safe
The meaningful blank papers
The ones you don’t even remember why you kept it
The unkept promises
The broken hearts and it’s pieces
An unrequited love
A letter kept hidden
A second chance not taken
It all comes back
Hits you hard
Let the tears flow
Mixed in the pool of nostalgia
A drawer full of memories
Of you and your friends
How lame you were all back then
The letters that you remember made you laugh
Slowly paints a line down your face
All the things you thought you’d lost
At least from your memories
Ressurect themselves in front of you
Say hi
And you sit there
Frozen as a mannequin
While your mind time travels
To the times when it was acceptable being lame
When it wasn’t even lame
To the love that seemed important
Something pure
Venturing the Dreamland of your past
The person you were
Innocent yet sinful
You flash forward to today
Crossing all the speed limit
Like a free fall
Watching you gain
Watching you laugh
Watching you love
Watching you cry
Watching you lose
Watching you grow
Nostalgia hits you hard
You still are frozen
The paint starts to drop off your face
You come back to dusty reality
Look at the ink filled papers
Smile filled photographs
Love filled strings
That still has string attached in your heart
A note that says bravo
A card that says happy birthday
A best of luck that seems the most relevant today
Lets the tears flow down from the eyes that never grew old
And never will.

Nishma Gautam

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WILL YOU ACCEPT ME IF I EVER GET RAPED? The fear is real.

Have you ever wondered, how would it feel to become the prey somebody’s filthy desires? It rather seems trivial to go on a protest or put up a hashtag for someone’s life that has taken a 360 degree turn in a jiffy amount of time. As I ramble  around the city at nights or days when I am by myself I ponder to myself what if a group of men grope on me and I shall not have the mastery to strive back? What if I am RAPED? “Rape” as vicious as it sounds, the consequence of what rape can induce can only and only be felt by those who had to thole it.

I doubt over a thousand times for if my family would stand by me if I ever get in a mishap as that. The vigilance for amount of years to guard the probity of an individual chiefly female, come to naught when one goes through the torment of rape. Will my parents have the courage to proudly own me and help regain my composer? Will the relatives act normal on me? Will I have the motivation to continue living? Or will I ever get a life partner who shall accept me on any circumstances? As I hear or watch anything close to rape, my mind stops to reflect on these questions.

Having the aptitude to give support to the people who go through difficulties as big as rape, have we done enough to desist it? It is as easy as breathing to talk of how the incident has wrecked the lives of those who have had to undergo the hardship. As someone who wants or at least thinks o progress of the mankind, we would like to believe that the world is ready to accept and alter the vile into proficient. But to our own assent, we cannot even guarantee the sustenance from our own family. It is a matter of piteous that the world has yet to ascertain the prominent portrayal of benevolence.

 

Author

Shristi Nakarmi

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Suna Saili- Hemanta Rana(Song Review)

The official music video for ‘Suna Saili’, a song by Hemanta Rana is finally out. I had been desperately waiting for the video to release because I, like hundreds of thousands of Nepalese can completely relate to this song. I must say a lot of effort has been put in making this video, by the director, the actors and the entire production team. As a result, the music video for the most admired song lately has come out to be a masterpiece, completely justifying the lyrics.

It’s been 7 years now, since my daddy went to Europe. I cannot even begin to describe how difficult it was for me, as my daddy’s youngest, most pampered child to adjust with the change back then. I’ve always been very excited about my birthdays. But may be that was the only year I did not feel like celebrating it at all for it had only been two months since Daddy had gone to Amsterdam.

The first few weeks, I just wished he didn’t call. I could never hold my tears; I’d break down as soon as I heard him say ‘Chhori’. I can imagine how difficult it must have been for mummy to pretend being strong in front of us.

It makes me very sad to see how at least one member from almost every family in Nepal is flying abroad today. May it be to study, to work or to settle there. It’s sad how so few families reunite during festivals, how at least one member of the family is compelled to witness a very important family function via social media. It’s sad how people are so busy creating a living abroad, they do not get to see their parents live the last moments of their lives. Meeting with their children before they die remains like the only wish to old parents. What’s even sader is how a mother sends her son abroad with a  heavy heart and while she’s expecting him to come back to her soon, what comes to her is the dead body, a dead segment of her heart.

After daddy’s flight, I’d see mom lock herself in a room and sob. I used to have my elder brother here to console her back then. But not even a single year had passed since Daddy left for Amsterdam, my brother went to London to pursue his studies. Mummy didn’t even have her eyes dried when, again, she found a reason to cry. I have had enough of seeing her break down into tears. It’s me who my mom is most attached with at this point of time, and I know; the thought itself, of having to let me go, makes her sad, very sad. I wouldn’t want to be the reason behind another heartbreak my momma goes through.

Here is the song’s link.

 

Author

Archana Panthi

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