Ethereal

You flow in my veins, Rustle in the air that I breathe, But not the only reason to wake up. You are a part of how I carry myself, The way I treat people, But not my only root. You are the color that paints me, The light that lights my crevices, But not the only greens of my tree. You are my deepest yearning, Your eyes, my gaze would ease into, But not my only destination.

What would be your definition of a party? Ease your mind into the idea of having fun for you. Contemplate for a brief moment about it. Imagine things that would make your heart flutter. Things that would make your mind as alive as the playful wind of autumn. Okay, that’s enough. Come back to reality now. For some people, the notion of having fun may be loud music and rather electrifying dance in a gathering of friends and family while a fraction of others might prefer drinking and deloading. Some of us are also thrilled with the concept of camping under the starry sky. But then, among the myriad of choices, there is an another class of people who like the mundane, with a very ordinary idea of having fun. Well, I have slipped into being one of them, happily sadly. For us, picking up a novel and lying there in bed -- twisting and turning, flipping through the pages and uncovering the plot seems fanciful. Slipping into an imagination where we could draw our rivers and bring ...

Krishna, meaning “dark” or “dark blue” in Sanskrit, can also be interpreted as “all-attractive” or “charming”. He had a dark complexion and a transcendental physical appearance, hence the name. This is the less vivid and not so colourful depiction of Krishna, kind of like a bookish definition. So, who is Krishna or what is Krishna, if you may ask? But before that, let’s paint a picture of Krishna in the blank canvas of our mind. Krishna, a son to a cowherd family in Gokul was raised by Nanda and Yashoda. He is known for his divine miracles, playfulness and compassionate nature. He had an uncle Kansa, who feared due to a prophecy that Krishna would be the cause for his death. So, Kansa had a fair share of demons whom he put in line to kill Krishna. But, he and his demons failed every single time and bowed down to the supreme nature of Krishna. Bhagvad Gita, an undoubtedly pristine book was also Krishna’s giving to the humankind for establishing dharma(righteousness not religi...

8th of October, 2024 It was winter. Kathmandu was cold and lonely, a city that stirred sadness in my soul. A city whose quiet corners never saw sunlight, only the cold grips of winter. The only warmth they knew came from the wisps of smoke, tossed away by passing strangers. The colours of city bled like shades of unholy grays with a skin of cruelty. Winter was stepping towards its apex with a slow-burn. The dry and suffocating air spelled unease and intrigue. It searched for traces of melancholy hidden within me. The chills of the wintery breeze conquered me vulnerable. Then, meddled with my already grieving fragments of heart. My eyes that had long forgotten the cries of my heart let the swelling sorrows free. They traced warm paths trailing to my bed. I couldn't escape it. I sat there helpless, waiting for it to end. It did end, but after forging a new narrative in my mind,"सपना र शुन्यताको शहर, काठमाडौं!" Quote of the day: Is autumn cruel for letting...

I still remember that day vividly. It was about 10 in the morning when I had read your message. My heartbeat was pulsating with every word forward. I could not hold my breath still. After reading the message, I went numb and my mind froze. Every hopes of future turned into a pitch black oblivion. "Us" was shredded apart to just "you" and "I". I scurried out from my room towards the balcony. It was raining heavily with restless air swaying the rain. But, my mind was still in shock processing what had become. What it meant for the picture perfect future I had always desired. A gush of wind suddenly sprinkled waterdrops to my face bringing me back to the present. The rain water was expressing what my eyes couldn't. It was like nature trying to put me to ease. My hand reach for a cigarette in my pocket. I was determined to abstain from nicotine. But, at that moment it didn't matter. The weight of hopelessness was heavier than my...

Psychology always fascinated me. I take a great deal of pleasure in navigating the mindscape of people associated with the dark triad- narcissism, Machiavellianism and psychopathy. Informing myself with such knowledge is a relentless and pleasurable pursuit for me. It stirs my psyche with an unexplainable amount of thrill and insanity. Deconstructing the behavioural pattern and bridging the gap between thoughts and actions makes me feel omniscient for a fleeting moment. Maybe it’s the dopamine shooting beyond its limit. But, who cares? So, let’s take a brief walk into the world of dark triad now, shall we? Narcissist (Narcissism) , a term often used as an insult to infuriate someone simply means for a person with an excessive preoccupation with oneself and one’s own needs. Like the infamous Tom Riddle(Voldemort) from our beloved childhood nostalgia, Harry Potter. A narcissist, in plain observation from a distance, seems to have very fanciful obsessions with his...

I don’t usually verbalize or jot down my thoughts about such questions. They always remain suspended in the quiet corners of my mind. In the empty spaces between my degenerate thoughts. But, today, I happened to recollect some hazy details of my very dystopian dream. It made me wonder and contemplate about the questions everyone asked but eventually forgot. One of the forgotten one, simple and plain in sight yet sinks deep into the abyss of our soul. “Why are we here?” Are we here to serve a higher purpose? Is it all God’s play for the endless fascination of divinity? Or maybe these questions are what we asked ourselves to stop questioning? Giving the authority to a higher figure definitely eases our existential dread. But, it also makes us a believer, bound to believe whatever is shed upon us. And, we stray from being a seeker, whose life was immersed in the air of truth. But, what if our limited senses are the ones constricting our ability to converse to things beyond our lim...