Inbox (14)

Wings!!

Dear Friend,

And I know you will understand everything without me saying a single word, this is where we keep our friendship, our emotions so safe. You will understand the depth in each word when you will read in this little letter but… I have been writing you a lot~ a lot when knowing that I will never ever get a reply! I know-I know I am not throwing away my tantrums~ I wish I could!

The moment I thought all the things fell into places ~ the very moment ground shook it all ~ keeping me in a moment of awestruck, with a confidence to walk down at the zero level. But how long one could be in the same place where you day by day you lose your confidence. One day! One day! You were ought to say NO! scream out loud and to give yourself a little push to fly~ else your wings will be forever locked.

But! The flight will be so unknown! People will call you crazy! But you have guts to accept this craziness na? I know you will not judge anything, knowing that I was not right for the world but I was right for myself. For myself, it was a decision. Totally hard to get away from the emotion that doubles your happiness. Totally hard and difficult to give up little dreams that you planned. Are dreams planned? Yeah of course they can be, till you lose it piece by piece like the puzzle piece.

Inbox (13)

You are Everywhere!

The tips of my finger just typed the above words in my pink keyboard. I remember how you teased me saying, “You have everything pink- but Keyboard as well- Really?”, of course with your dimpled smile accepting my favorite color.   May be I have been thinking about you a lot or may be I have been talking with you inside my own world a lot or may be it is basically true that – “You are Everywhere ~ Just Everywhere”

How can somebody occupy that much space when I all the time say that I need my personal space, I need to be with myself! I think I lie. I don’t need my space anymore since the day when I welcomed you in my little world. The first day, I saw you~ world had completely blurred as eyes were focused on you ~ only you. I don’t know my mind did not only picture you but also took a video or even a selfie with you~ the memories lie in the perfect files in the cabinet of mind. Yeah, I do flip through files. Also through the pictures of you in my mind, sometime play back that video that I have captured you with smile, laughter or just in a silent mood when I am babbling a lot – like all the time I do or sometimes just watch ourselves walking together with crossed palms or you holding me in your arms or sometimes us sitting in the ground and just talking on and on and on.

May be truly – You are everywhere!

Inbox (11)

One hundred years…enough living perhaps

The past is dark. Dark is the color. But something dark has no color perhaps or is it the mixture of every color that has made it so dark, colorless- such that it doesn’t reflect any color. Can color – the crayons paint a painful picture? Well, the mixture of a lot of colors can make it ugly thing. Dark is vacant, hollow ultimately leading one to the moment of feelinglessness, beinglessness. How much is it important to feel something in its own true essence?

I feel like an old tree. That has survived for lets say hundred years. Have been through so much of sunshine, colorful leaves, ripen fruits and old branches. I love the birds that come and shelter within me. I look at them and smile. Their love makes me to turn my cold branches into green, blue, yellow, red and pink. I become band of seven colors with smelling flowers blooming over the thousand branches of mine. Everywhere there is bloom- Well, this is spring. Everything matches with every other thing.

Then, these birds fly away. Leaving their nest empty. Vacant part above me hurts me like anything. I weep in silence and the sky competes with me. It shows me more anger in the form of thunder, storm and rain. Makes me wet, makes me cold, tries to remove away the nest, fills the nest with water. Immediately after, Sun comes to punish me for the sin that I commit for loving the birds as I am not supposed to love any birds. Because love is an illusion, the Sun says. Almost burning me with the heat, sun dries me up, dries the leaves, flowers and the ripen fruits- they fall in the ground and die. Ripen fruits : They are the ripen dreams that fall and die when it is becomes most fit to be recognized.

Inbox (10)

Dear all,

I suddenly miss so many of you when I realize it has been 40 minutes I have been walking alone. How I hated walking alone, then and how now walking alone feels so safe – feels so much like meditation. It feels vacant. Something deep inside a hollow – there is nothing- no piled up dreams and no any more desire to do something- something new- may be apply for a new job at the most attractive places? No frustrations that you failed so many interviews, so many things you almost got it and lost in a blink of eye.

But walking alone makes me feel strong. Stronger, I must say. When I realize, I was not used to doing it anytime… it is because I longed for all of your company so hard, so badly. The circle I created for me with you all inside was so much mine that I never thought anything outside of it. When the circle line started to fade away with time, situations or even the circumstances or simply the choice? ~ truly I was not prepared. If I was prepared enough then I wonder – I would not have come along so strong. Yet, I miss you all — suddenly when I open the door and find pin drop silence that eventually makes me gulp my voice, suppress it down and down and then lock it somewhere beneath ~ however it tries so hard to come out. What is the use of it — when it remains unheard?

I feel vacant while I walk among a hundred of pedestrians like me. I don’t notice them – so do they. Everyone is heading somewhere – perhaps a destined one or the desired one or the forced one? How desire and destiny related with each other? Do they overlap?

Inbox(9)

To me,

I want to talk with myself, probably I want to undergo a certain kind of meditation and ask many questions to me- myself. No, I am not addressing this letter to you today because I am tired of anxiously waiting for your reply. Am I hallucinating your presence? Because you never exist, or do you? I am tired of being anxious, trembling feet, thumping heart and heavy brain. I have to search for answers within myself because I am asking questions to myself in the form of Inboxes. How would have life been, if I had had courage that time? Life would have been different nah! Why aren’t you having courage to reply these letters? It is because you don’t exist. I think I am hallucinating your presence, imagining somewhere you exist and you are reading these in this blog. This is mere imagination. You don’t exist- this is the cruel reality.

Ignorance kills me out. It hurts when you know you were being ignored deliberately. And what when you were knowingly ignored for years? The existence, presence everything deliberately ignored. The feelings that you preserved for years was never felt, was never thought about but just merely ignored. But would you like the repetition of all these things? What about your promised moral support? Moral supports are all bluffs. They don’t exist. How long can I tolerate? How long can I tolerate my own false expectations? How much false hope you give in the form of your sweet words? See– I am hallucinating yet again. I am addressing you.

I don’t deserve suffering of any such or any kind. This is what I feel. This is what I believe. I have to have to stop hallucinating you, your loving me, your caring me, your understanding of my feelings, your giving me immense dreams of life, your giving me of hopes of happiness and your killing of my sorrows. At the end you yourself are a big bluff because you don’t exist, you don’t exist and all those things I expect are my own mere hallucination.

I don’t deserve suffering… like Sylvia Plath said once – “I deserve that, don’t I, some sort of blazing love that I can live with.”

Inbox(8)

To you,

Did Caterpillar ever know it will transgress into a Colorful Butterfly? When shall my caterpillar life end? When shall I be a fluttering colorful butterfly ? Or for me there is no any chance to be a butterfly? For how long will I be limited to this caterpillarness of mine? I am scared..I fear that I would be bound to live in this monotony. But I fear “change” as well. I fear change because I am habituated to this stagnant state of mine. Immovability or desired -wished or destined immovability? Confusion!

Back and forth, Back and Forth–Past and Present and Future -in which state– do I belong? I along with my lazy and hazy caterpillarness live inside this “Laxman Rekha” of the present. But am I bound by this Laxman Rekha line? Life will not be interesting– Wouldn’t the story of Ramayan be stagnant hadn’t Sita not defied the Laxman Rekha and went beyond? I transgress these boundaries, I go beyond this Laxman Rekha–

Inbox(7)

Without addressing you.. like I always did,

Far away the moonless sky stares like it had done yesterday, like it did today and will do it tomorrow. I turn my back to you sky. But is your presence ignored by my turning back to you?

How long can one lead and live in disorientation without dreaming the beautiful dreams of life? For how long can one live in just expectation? At a time when all the expectation doors are closed?

How long can one hold oneself upright, feeling and trying and then feeling fine? Like an army command, –how long can “mind” direct “heart” presenting do ‘s and don’ ts ? You have everything when you have nothing. Could this in reality be possible? Not at all. Not at all. Can truth be opposite ~ You have nothing when you have everything.

Sometimes illusions are like ice creams, you lick it and it keeps on melting. You don’t give a chance to melt but it melts and the melting you taste. Illusions do melt. They give charm like ice cream. But as you lick it it starts melting till you finish it.

Same road I crawl upon everyday while going to everywhere. No change at all. My address is fixed but is destination fixed? Why not? Why not? Why not one is bound to go a fixed place? Why there are choices? Why there are compromises? Why the hell is one bound to live in compromises?

On a hot summer day, sweat is bound to flow away. On a rainy day, rain drops wash away. On a dry day, wind blow blows away. On a wintery day, what? Warm arms kick the chill away.

Inbox(6)

Sathi ..

But I still wait for you to reply without even knowing whether you have been receiving or not receiving those previous mails. So many things make me fused up, things are not as they used to be, people are not as they used to be, change is inevitable my dear but something underneath is changeless: the desperate wait for your reply. I have been waiting, I will be waiting.

I am so inexpressive these days~ Just stuck up somewhere beneath. Feelings boil like water in a kettle, waiting to come outside, but the lid  is so tight. I boil myself inside. Writing to you relieves me. Feels like I am talking with you~feels like you are hearing me and with your typical smile responding to my stupidity.

Inbox(5)

The sun it rises and it sets

In my prison all is dark !(Lower Depths, Maxim Gorky)

Dear Friend,

It has been long that I wrote you. Most of time mood swings and while I try to write something to you, I end up doing something else. The post Beijing days have been really very hard because all the things are bumping like never before. I have been restless. Totally restless. I have lost myself to many extents these days. But what kind of busy I am, I really don’t know.

Without you all life is solitary…and I have started living with this Pipe Dream. It is really very fantastic to live with pipe dream. I get relieved.

You know leading a solitary life is so hard but so obvious; there is no other way at all. I am so used to doing things alone and yes without you and without your involvement in everything.

Beijing Never Sleeps

Inbox (4)

Dear Friend,

Beijing Never sleeps…and I wake up till late with Beijing and I sleep when Beijing sleeps . It is exactly 1:10 Am here and in Nepal it is 10:50 PM. I am here in the 7th floor of this huge building and vehicles are still plying on the road. There is electricity everywhere and there is nothing called dark here because everywhere there is light except for the dark sky. I can’t see stars here. I don’t know where they are. Back home, I loved to see stars.

Dear, I miss you so much. I wish you were here together to share all of my happiness, excitement and all at instant. But you are far away from me. I want to capture all my happiness in the form of words so that you can read it someday soon.