No November Rain

Actually I knew about the November Rain from the song November Rain by Guns N Roses. The song has been really fascinating me and is one of my personal favourite. So I wanted to feel how november rain feels like. I have had this experience of Cold chilly november rain before two years and it was so much beautiful feelings I had have that time. The sense of Romantica and the over flowing Ardent feelings of this heart. It was awesome to feel the cold in such an passionate way that you are going to love it forever. I had this hang of November Rain..and I wanted this year too, however I don’t remember the rain last year.

I have been waiting and waiting a lot for this…yes November Rain..but no since the day November began it was getting sunnier day by day. So , what I did was counting the days, hoping that november rain will come this year and once again I can enjoy it in my way. Sweta’s way of being with nature and Sweta’s way of enjoying the nature so beautiful. The feeling of chilling bones and the cold bloods flowing through the veins..its awesome. ( What happens if the blood freezes in the viens ..hehe just imagining )

November has not been so cool as I had imagined. Many a times it seemed that it will rain and it will rain but nature played or say sun played hide and seek with me..the ardent lover of her November Rain..

Life’s like this the wait is never over. The wait for november rain shall continue next year and the next next year..and the next next next year. But will November Rain will come. It may come it maynot come. Its never sure and the wait continues like this. The cycle of wait continues like this. Its wait that keeps us alive and its wait that makes us hopeful, its wait that makes us strong and passionate. I dream whatever..and one of my dream is November Rain which never came to me. The much I waited the much it became painful but no no any drops of rain to chill my bones..

Wait shall continue, what if it didn’t came this year there is next year and the next year I am hopeful that November Rain will come. Novemember Rain will make me feel the chill.

Few Hours to end the month november..but seems like not a single drop of rain..

Sad but true..have to accept the cold cold reality…and still reality bites that this year will go like this without November Rain.

Will my wait will be over ?

P.S. No November Rain this year..

      Should I wait for Feburary Snow…at Kathmandu???


24 hours

Hurry Hurry…its six…

Something needs to be fix..

Watch rings..but I throw it out..

They yell..out..yell out hard..

Suddenly, I realize..I need to

Reach there always always late..

I always say its my fate…

We are grown ups..not even asked why late?? ..

Then yawn all time..its lack of sleep I know and he says..too

I am helpless..with this messy hair, unironed clothes..

I laugh at this…

Then reach there again late..

Again all the blames to fate..

Work Work and Yawn Yawn…

Scolded because it always become mistake..

She is the one..who am I ???

Its fun as well all the day to talk and talk

Then suddenly a look over the watch gives a hint

Time up here..need to reach there on time..

I pretend there that I am all fine..

No I am never tired..because I needed to go on air..

But the problem is I always fear..

The again back to the place I belong..

Chilly nights..dark ways..

Lights sometimes and blackout somedays..

Fear I fear..when they stop and check license..

Run again fast very fast..

Sometimes tyres burning in the night..

What the hell…why they fight…

Then reach here…being so tired..

She is always fired..asks isn’t it too late??..

Then again I say its all fate..

Then needed to do the assignments

Tomorrow’s presentation..

What do I do now..check out few lines..

Again I throw it out…

I say to myself its absurd to read at this hour..

There is always “tomorrow” ( Jay Bholi )

Then the routine goes the cycle..

Again blames to fate..why only 24 hours…

Its not enough…

P.S. Isn’t it absurd..Isn’t it funny..what do I get after all…I need to die one day…

Oh Saturday

Waiting since the sunday comes, so many things undone to be done. What can one do in 24 hours. Sometimes I feel these 24 hours is not enough for me. But what the hell I am doing other than running. Running from home to college ( always late..If I will be on time then it would be a record ), then to this day office which is wacky too, then  to the place where I love work but seems like knowing so many things I am feeling somehow disillusioned. Then coming home in the time where I used to be alseep. Then eating the food which I really don’t want to eat because it is the time for me to sleep. But I need to eat, “Mandatory”. Then give sometime to books otherwise busy smsing ….

Sometimes I get sick of this that I have not prepared any notes and that my new competitor in class is going ahead. I am helpless the hard I try the hard I cannot do anything. Then I conclude I need few hours more for myself, without which I cannot stand.

I really don’t have time for myself, I needed to give sometime to family and my lone mom too but I don’t have time for myself. I hardly mangae to comb my hair while going to college and also never iron my pant and never polish my shoes..then what happenes would not I look much messy.. and my baby bride she needs a wash..but first I need to wash me nah !!

So, I am always waiting for this day yes saturday..since sunday starts..when I can have little time for myself and if I need to do things but Would I be able to do so, no I don’t. Perhaps I manage to rest. I become furious that I need to work on saturdays too. Yes my day office’s work going to brief the tour..which is wacky meeting guests but I think these were the best clients accepting everything I told..hehe…

Its hectic..managing to do so many things but not managing to think. I am losing my thinking power. My room so messy, all days I cannot wait mom to clean it, I feel ashamed too..but what can I by day its getting messier, day by day I am not getting any time for me..

Losing thinking power is so much sad, I have not been listening to the inner voice that could have guided me..but see I don’t have time.

Its hard to wake up in the mornings and its more hard to run in this chilly cold days..

Helpless that I laugh sometimes at myself..

Saturdays I can have time like this..but still I am busy with internet.. and now what I am going to do is..getting vitamin D..yes the sun.. and its wow.. good night..oops good day…hehe..

lazy days.. lazy saturdays..i love this..hope this saturday be saturday forever.. but what tomorrow’s Sunday….again absurd schedule..its wacky..

P.S. Absurd life…Absurdity of this wonderful life…

“Reality Bites” at Gurukul

Contemplated !!!

I am feeling overwhelmed over the reality exposed there at Gurukul of Mithila, Janakpur in the form of a play “Woh Khali Muh dekhi che “where the “Dowry” has its roots deeply rooted in the society. No education too couldnot do anything, what can be done then. I am really contemplated. Few months back there was a news of a woman brutually brunt to death and the problem was dowry. Upto when female shall suffer…Being borned as female is a question now ?

The story is simple but it has exposed the harsh reality and exposed the real face of the society of Mithila, Janakpur. The play is simple about a family who has a daughter,Sita’s father Krishna decides to educate her and she gets the good education too. However a girl needs to get marry, and to marry huge amount of dowry is needed which the family cannot bear. This unbearable amount to be paid and to buy a husband for the daughter makes the father’s mind evil. So, when the daughter comes home saying she is bitten by an snake, father denies to look after her because he wants her to die and it is known by him only. Eventually she dies and play ends in a tragedy.

The human mind exposed in the drama is awesome. The character played by Sita’s father is beautifully potrayed. The emotions and feelings of the actors in the play not only the situation of tearfullness but also at the situation of happiness all are so much beautifully done. All the characters are acted so well that the whole play becomes such an beautiful piece of art. I cried at many times with the actors. The mental breakdown scene of the father is so awesome that I am overwhelmed.

The play thus became one of the best play I have ever seen because of the intensity of the emotions and feelings, the human mind, psychological aspect and condition when the problem related to money comes. The plot, characterisation, cultural potraits, customes,space and time management, human predicament, human sorrows, social parody, everything makes the play such a beautiful piece of art. The play is awesome.

Now, a small commentary over the social malpractices. I question to myself being Sita, Is being borned as a daughter such an sinful act ? Are we educated at last for getting married to a rich guy and then live in the domination forever. How many Sitas die every year, how many Sitas are exploiated as such, how many father loses his conscience as Sitas father, how many Sitas suffer like this.

The play urges for ending such malpractices in the society, so that so many like Sita can live life to the fullest, so that so many houses would not ruin as Sitas and so many father will not feel their daughter as a burden.

Awesome tragedy, it melted my heart. It was nice to see such an wonderful representation of human predicament. The real real reality of our country, our Sitas. Reality certainly bites. I felt a pang in my heart and I felt contemplated to the extent.

P.S. Reality Bites !!!!

And Life’s no more..

I would have loved to mourn on his untimely demise, but I would not do that. A very sweet memory left. How could he die in such an tender age, leaving a family, leaving this beautiful world. I remember Brave New World..a novel which I couldnot read because of its harshness and the realtiy exposed in such a dreadful manner.

Same thing happen as Huxley had imagined around me. Yes The Brave New World..Definitely the things that were fictional are being real. One way or the other people are moving towards it. Why the youngsters ?

I knew him as my big brother, as I used to put Bhai tika in his forehead. Though not related with by blood, we were socially realted as he was “Miit” ( I don’t know what it is called in english ) of my big brother.

I am tearful why writing about him here in this blog. I think this would be a tribute to him. A heartfelt condolence to a dear brother who left for heaven day bvefore yesterday and poor me to hear this sad news of his demise after a day.

I didn’t have any contact with him for years and years but we used to get information about him, that he is in drugs, he is using drugs and he is continually using drugs. And yesterday I hear that he died because of overdose of drugs.

I was shocked but I didn’t felt like mourning..It was a chosen death I believe. Something like a suicide by a slow poison. I wonder if he didn’t knew that drug will take his life like this. I wonder that before him too whether his friends had died or not..yes because of the use of drugs.

Why people chose drug as a escpae ? Why don’t we support them to leave it ? Why a sense of hatred for them for using drugs ? Why don’t we love them ? Why don’t we support them ? Why don’t we care them ? Why don’t we help them to get rid of drugs ? Why we leave them like this that they lose precious life like this? Why government is not taking action against them who traffick drugs?

I am sadden by this untimely demise of my brother..My chest pounds hard. I feel a pang in my heart. It has hurt me unlike anything. I wish I could have been able to see him for the last time, before he was burnt..I wish I could have talked with him for the last time, dear oh dear..I am feeling really bad..m in tears now..I can’t control myself..

And his life is no more…

Please don’t use drugs..Please help those who are into drugs..Please bring them back..all the friends and families..bring them the one who are in the normal life..Please don’t hate them..Please I am humbly requesting ..I am humbly requesting..Please helo those who are in drugs..give them more love and that they can again be able to stand.. Let us all help them..let us bring them back…Let us be untied to fight against drugs..Who knows if your brother dies like this..because of drugs..or someone closely related to u..then..

And his life is no more…

May his eternal soul rest in peace…!!!!

P.s Please say no to Drugs..!!!!!


There she stoods waiting for you..

Beautiful..she is..Beautiful she has to be..

Throws her clads…you cover her with your cash..

There she stoods waiting for you..

No make ups she needs..she is granted a body naturally..

What else you need..

Walks on the road carefree…

Promiscuous she is..Promiscuous she is seen..

A body she needs to sustain…

Babies after her….and inside her to be maintained

There she stoods..waiting for your money..

Hoping she could provide them some honey…

She sleeps on the road..waiting for you to come..

A body she has..she neednot be beautiful..

Waiting for your cash..she hurriedly throws her calds..

Lets you enjoy her…

Lets everybody enjoy her..

Opens herself for all..

But what she does?? Does she enjoy it too??


( While driving..I was strucked in a jam..on the Bishnumati bridge, there I saw a naked lady..covering herself with a thin dirty shawl, she was sleeping there. I didn’t noticed nicely, but the second day she was there..the third day she was there.

Again when I was driving through a Balkhu river ( short-cut ) which directly takes you to Kupondole..I saw a lady about thirty her linguire..shouting at the people.

While walking through New road I saw a lady..wearing a transparent cloth..covering upto hips and her one breast with her hand..the cloth was bloody ..her face bruised.. )

Yesterday while I was listening to BBC and I had heard about the legalization of prostitution. They were in favor of it and they had so many good arguments.

I don’t know why I wrote the above poem..I am a human first..and then a female..I felt pity..I felt myself helpless to see females in such a condition of life..I did not meant to blame “males” but we too exploit them..who shall take care of them..

I am tearful…really..


P.S. Can we do something for them ?? What is the souliton ??


Breathing ….now and then,


Filing this empty vessel..with air..

Trying to ..making this empty thing alive..

Each moment I thrive..I thrive..

Making this empty thing alive..

A soul and a fleshy..empty thing..

A hollowness..very very deep.. is..breathing in and out..

I keep my silence…and I don’t shout..

Emptiness I preserve..

Emptiness I preserve..

Breathing and out..