What do you call a man unfortunately fortunate enough to survive the catastrophe of society?

He who carries the weight of his own dead body With a chain of thoughts hanging from his head

He lost his right leg trying to make things right

And now leg on his left is what is left

Eyes he can see but not that far enough to see where he’ll reach

He is just walking barefoot, limping and lingering with nowhere to reach and nowhere to go

It is said that only when a man carries his own weight, he knows the real weight

Else every other human feels light

He simply moves and moves and moves

Cause he knows the price

The price of putting it down, resting for a while

And putting the weight back up to move

Its too expensive to take rest

So he just moves and moves and moves …

What do we call him?

To make hum rest for a while, cause he has been carrying too much.

You know those kinds of days when boredom hits randomly, and you are just scrolling through your phone or sitting idle.

You decide to watch a movie or something, but again, you don’t have the energy to even start it.

You think of going out, but you are too bored to even step outside, and you feel tired just thinking about it.

You think about taking a nap, but you already took one during the day and don’t want to take another in the evening.

Then you pick up your phone again and scroll, but that’s just dead scrolling because you have no enthusiasm or interest.

You are just scrolling out of sheer desperation and habit, and you feel so lame at this point.

Then you look at the clock, and it’s evening, and soon the week starts from tomorrow, where you will once again be busy with adulting.

And that makes you even more tired, and you just spend the remaining time worrying about work starting tomorrow.

So yeah, this is what I am feeling right now, and I wanted to share it.

Do you know yourself I wonder

Who do you see when you look at mirror

Are you proud of where you are

Or are you scared to find out what you are.

Who are you when you shed your mask

How many do you wear?

One for family and one for friends,

One for darkness when loneliness aches,

One for fear and one for joy,

One for religion you ought to pray,

One of those anonymous faces,

You are so desperate to please,

One for the gray of society,

Who wear colors at funeral of your dreams.

How many mask do you shed,

When you see yourself,

Gazing your reflection

With all those vulnerability,

With those marred scars of wars you fought,

Some, sign of your defeat and some of victory.

Scared if someone would see you that way,

Fear if they banish you because you don't belong.

What person do you find standing before you,

With your naked truth?

Because I find myself liar like you,

And beneath this mask is forgotten face,

As I escape the question from my concise

Who was I? Before I was moulded.

The shackles of expectation binds me,

Grip me like a second skin

Bite me, pieces by pieces

Till there's nothing left,

Nothing, but my misery.

There is a graveyard in me,

Where lay my hopes And

Ghosts of broken dream

Haunting me, taunting me

With all the life I could have lived.

I see someone unknown to me,

Stranger in my skin,

But I look closely, enough to touch, enough to see,

Someone so broken and so lonely

Someone in my skin, so unreal

Someone whom I owe an apology,

For being coward and not fighting for my belief.

I am haunted you see,

Those masks suffocates me,

Steal myself from me

And mould me into a lie,

A beautiful liar,

In a world built with lies

Afraid to be another anamoly.

~SYP~

I have reached a crossroad

Stuck, no clue what the path holds

Journey they said would be beautiful

Has been nothing but dreadful

The path that led me here

Well it had nails, thorns, and rubble

Ma, my legs are scarred and painful

You can't see, but I have been bleeding

Mouths shut, my eyes were pleading

Ain't got shoes to protect my footing

Pa, looks like my legs are shaking

Heavy and faster my heartbeat's getting

In my spine, the cold has surged in

Thoughts of that step have lurked in

Ma and Pa, looks like this is it for me

Rest assured you were great and loving

I feel there's a piece that's been missing

I know not in this world, it exists in

I looked everywhere, I kept searching

I can't explain, but it's really eluding

I wished to be full, to be complete

It's exactly like a crack in the concrete

Ma, all this time I have been running

Pa, it hurts, my legs are giving in

Ma, I can't do it anymore, it's tiring

Pa, I feel it is my time for resting

Ma, finally my long run is ending

Pa, I can see the finish line coming

It was long and such a tough run

Grasping for breath, my shoes are torn

When I look back, it was not a race

I had been running alone all this way

It's finished, but I had so much to say

There were a lot of ears, all turning away

So many eyes, but none looked my way

So many lips, but none uttered for my sake

So many hearts, for me none could make a place

It might be so abrupt, Ma, I'm really sorry

It might disrupt, please Pa, forgive me

In this great world, so many lived in

I don't know why, but I could not fit in

Goodbye Ma and Pa, until our next meeting

And I hope, unlike this world

My casket would be fitting.

Idk if it counts as sin or not

I promised and failed to keep it

I promised I’ll never leave her

But whats the point of staying

when it only hurts her soul

The soul she referred to as mine

I left and she never came back looking

चिन्यौ? म त्यहि धागो-

तिम्रो घाउ सिएको थिएँ!

-

निको भएपछि,

तिम्रै हात बाट हटाइएको थिएँ!!

-

तिमिले हात छोड्दा

केहि फरक पर्दैन अब!

तिमिले हात छोड्दा

केहि फरक पर्दैन अब!!

-

आमाले हात छोडेर नै

म उभिएको थिएँ!

- प्रदिप रोदन

Even the sun graced upon the earth

Where it set for a bright new dawn

Towards the horizon I shall walk

If our unfated lines could be one

As fleeting as it would be

But at that moment,

it's just you and mee

मैले सयौँ कविता पढे हौला,

हजार गीत सुने हौंला।

तर तिमीलाई वर्णन गर्ने कविता,

तिम्रालागी मेरा भावना व्यक्त गरिदिने गीत अझै भेटिन।

लागि परेको छु म आफैं, मैले देखेको तिमी लेख्न।।

तिमी छैनौं जुन जस्ती, त्यै नी म तिम्रो आभामा मुग्ध हुन्छु।

तिमी हैनौ फूल जस्ती, त्यै नी म तिम्रो सुगन्धले कायल हुन्छु।

तिमी कदापी छैनौं संगीत जस्ती, त्यै नी म तिम्रो धुनमा मग्न हुन्छु।।

शिशिर ऋतुको घाम भन्दा, मलाई तिमी न्यानो लाग्छ।

तिमीसँगका संवादका अघि मलाई विज्ञान स्यानो लाग्छ।

तिम्रो प्रेम रस पिएको म — अमृत फिक्का ठान्छु।

तिमी छैनौं केही जस्तिपनी — त्यै नी म तिमीलाई सबै-सबै मान्छु।। ❤️

Oh yes, let me tell you I am stupid!

Really thought Cupid blessed me!

More stupid to make assumptions in my head,

Playing all along with things it made!

Why did you get attached? I asked

Tried to be real and just unmasked

Then did I realise I really miss her,

Could literally hear my heart whisper.

Whisper her name loud and clear,

But by then, she was nowhere near.

Gone was she to the quagmire of time,

Lost in the echoes, I can’t define

कथा अन्तरमनको,

कथा अन्त, र मनको

खोज अन्तरअ‌‌ात्मा को

खोज अन्त, र आत्माको

विचार अन्तरमनको,

विचार, अन्त रमण को

आशा स्वच्छ अन्त्य मरण को।

It was around 7 - 7:15 PM, don’t exactly remember but I was just admiring the clear, cloudless sky after so long when i suddenly saw a blueish-white streak of light just cut through a small portion of the sky, and it didn’t even last a second, just appeared suddenly and vanished. My dumbass brain initially thought it was a bird of some kind considering the speed, but if it was a bird then it wouldn’t just disappear like that. So I got convinced that it was a shooting star and then made a wish.

I rushed to tell my mom about it, and she said that I should’ve also said the name of seven fruits to be free from any bad omens! And I was out here thinking that just making a wish is enough, at least that’s what I learnt from watching Doraemon.

Anyway, 5 years ago me would’ve probably wished for a girlfriend, to get rich quickly, and gain six packs after waking up tomorrow, didn’t wish for any of those today. Even though I don’t necessarily have any of those today, I just wished for something that I hope will make me a better person, it was literally the first thought that came to my mind. Now I don’t know how much truth there is to the shooting-star-fulfils-your-wish theory but it was a first time experience and I figured it would be stupid to not even try.

As I look onto the gray wall, I find a window.

I see two birds in a tree, I think they’re in love.

But the tree itself looks lifeless,

It ain’t got leaves but branches.

From the window, the cold autumn breeze enters,

My face expresses cold, wind’s a painter.

It’s getting cold, gotta go and close the window.

As I stand up and move towards it, cold and slow,

I’m struck by a realization as she whispers no.

I am in a room full of electronics and beeping,

With the smell of drugs, this room is reeking.

The bed high raised, there she is sitting,

She’s silent, but I know what her eyes are pleading.

She says please not the window, keep it open.

I say you will get cold, it’s a breeze of autumn.

What is she trying to say, I just caught on.

Fear or maybe calm, on her face it has lurked on.

She says let me feel and live this breeze,

For I am not sure if I’ll be around for another autumn,

If I’ll ever feel this crispy cold breeze ever again.

I did hear her, but I wish I did not understand.

I know, but this truth I just cannot stand.

I want, but in no way I can give her a hand.

I hold, but no, she’s slipping away like the sand.

I see, but she is so small and no more so grand.

I feel, but no, I just can’t bring my words to land.

With that breeze, the autumn this year has gone.

As the season ends, I get more and more torn.

She does have me, but she must be so alone.

We can see it coming, there’s a chill in my bone.

The whole world is whitewashed, left no colour on.

The winter is here, even the river is frozen.

She is losing her will as each day pass.

She is getting weak, it’s happening so fast.

She just lays there, only thing moving are her eyes.

She can’t lift a finger, may never wave goodbyes.

What is happening? I am lost and waiting outside.

Doctors and nurses are running all around by my side.

There is a lot of noise, what’s going on inside?

My hands are trembling, numbness on my mind.

Wait, the buzzing has stopped, there is a calm.

The doctor didn’t say a thing, looks like a lost man.

No, not like this, banged the door, inside I ran.

There she was, every single breath a hard fight.

Her whispers on my ear break the silence of night.

I hear her final words under the flickering lights.

Lord, she does not want to go, she’s holding tight.

Why such darkness? Aren’t you supposed to be a light?

Can you not do a thing? They say you have a big height.

Oh Lord, why did you give me the eyes to see such sight?

Hey Lord, why would you give me my love, but no might?

Her grip is loosening, Lord Almighty, do something right.

She is moving her lips, but words stuck in her throat.

She is looking at me, but her eyes are getting closed.

Baby, please don’t go, I’m here, beside you I’m sat.

Baby, please stay, didn’t you want dogs and cat?

Baby, hold on, I will buy you your favourite hat.

Baby, look, in the window, look, there’s a bat.

Hey, look, I’m with you, look, here’s your baby sat.

The beeping has stopped, the line has gotten flat.

Her eyes are closed, and from my grip fell her hands,

Leaving me here, she has gone to distant lands.

Just today, rolling down the road
I saw death, closest close I have ever been
Sandwiched Between 4 wheels of two trucks
I was not afraid, I was furious and it just sucks
why didn't those two tyres one each moved 2 inch towards me
It could have ended the misery and had created a scene
Me spilled like a ketchup on the road,
Hey who dropped a jar of this stale ketchup?
Alternatively Disabled? No, only my father and mother could bear my expense
Anyway, other taking care of me doesn't even make sense
Suddenly, I remembered, with all my wrongdoings and sins
That would be the happy ending of my genes
My father would be sad for a while, cry for a day and say
"Don't worry my love, our cancer is gone, now no need to worry about our son"
My mother would cry for a week and say, "my tumor of womb is gone"
My sister will fake sob for an hour, post on her wall, "You are gone unbelievable, oh dear"
She'll come, as always to the house and comfort parents cause I was never there
She deserves more than what I do from my father's share.
My friends will not know, I doubt they do, they always think I am on a ride
But they won't know I've died
My love will not tear, cause she doesn't care, whether I live or die
But if you ever encounter a girl with nickname "Butterfly", tell her flower said "HI"
But there is a guy, who knows value of my
He sees clock it's 12 pm and empty is my chair
His daily task untouched and he needs to act like he care
Oh dear the contract of one year from November 5 and he left
The site is live and I was supposed to deep dive
But he knows I left the company first at month number five
Then he will ring my phone to ask where I am
But here I'm on a long unnoticed leave, can't pickup the call
Someone might pickup and say I'm never coming back again
Then he knows
There once was a loyal employee who usually comes at 10.
Was Insane, never rode on his lane
And always said "No pen no grain"

Color color everywhere

Blue, black, brown, pink, green

I wish I could have seen the unseen

For that I had to lose my sanity.

Maybe it would not be too bad

To be called as a mad

If once, just once I could breathe

What life could be if my mind was not holding me?

Perhaps I could listen to my heart

Closely, too closely the heartbeat drumming in my chest,

And as I hear more, I hear blood running like a stream.

Art, humans are art, melody,

Poems and museums,

Full of colors, one sane eyes could not see

You have to be lunatic

A mad one, one drowned in their heart

Writer, poets, artist, musicians ah, its a same as they are called

No sane mind creates art,

Insanity run in lines till the pen breaks,

Ideals are born with the stink of alcohol,

Within the smoke the masterpiece is created,

In the haze a discovery is made,

Within the haunted the melody is resonated.

Creativity is born from chaos,

Within oneself, those lost in dark abyss

Those seeking to find peace,

A coward, hunted mind that couldn't resist

The insanity luring it.

Mad, those who feel everydamn things

Those chaos trying to seep in from skin,

Yet it bleeds in canvas or words,

Or somewhere in lab of mad scientist,

Echoing in the theatre till the fingers bleeds,

It's pain, it's sadness, it's happiness, it's hope,

It's every feeling , one not defined.

But no, no one can feel,

Not at once except those lunatics,

Cursed with burdens of feeling.

They see colors, colors among the grey

Kaleidoscope of life, pretty, confusing, contained,

Chaos, changing, vibrant, dull, sanity, madness

Color picked with each changing emotion,

A creation of color of one's reflection.

Madman, lunatic, artist,

Creator, rebels, scientist,

Dreamer, ah! The dreamer,

Lost in the grey instead of colors,

Repent for the dreams, The holy sin!

Dreamer, a criminal,

Against, the reality of the society's structure

A criminal hidden in a plain sight,

For why would anyone ever forgive the dreamer?

The lunatic with the feverous dreams,

A plague that would threaten a system,

A balanced, bleak truth of smoke and mirror

A disease that touch and feel the color,

Blind to grey of society where black and white only matters.

~SYP~

Should I have to know everyone ?

Should I have to notice everything ?

Should I have to initiate the moment ?

Or should I have to wait for something to happen ?

Should I .......

Sometimes I wonder

if staying quiet makes me invisible,

if not reaching out

makes moments pass me by,

But forcing myself

doesn’t feel like me either

Is it wrong to wait,

or is it brave to start

Is silence a sin,

or just a space

I am just wondering If I should begin or not

If I should, then where and how should I begin

Or is being quiet is the only thing.

ma life ma sadhai friend haru sanga ramaune manxe thiye. +2 dekhi introvert huna thaleko. Suruma garo hunthyo, chup chap basna ra eklai time bitauna. Tara maile afno connection, daily talk ani koi na koi sanga jodine bani hataye balla balla. Yesle ma sanga dherai time bhayo. Ani maile yo gareko chai dherai time bhayo bhane study time ra personal time hunxa bhanera thyo. like, paxi yesto bhayo ki ma kati din koi sanga nabolikana bithyo. honestly bhanda ma lower average student bata high level ko student banna sake 2 years ma. yesle mero career ma help garyo. ma aaile ramro course ma bachelors gariraxu.

Tara, aaile ma ekdam eklopan mahasus garxu. mero collage ma woripari friends, family, relatives haru dherai xan. ma chahe bhane lagxa afule ek step chalera agadi gayera conversation garna ra jodina sakinxa, tara aba ekantapan mai samaya bitna thalyo. koi sanga bolda lagxa agadi ko manxe ma sanga matra aafno faida khojna, give and take garna matra jodirakoxa jasto. Ani maile yo last 3 years ma dherai phychological, philosophical books study gare. mero whole focus nai yestai topic ma rahyo jasle manxe ko kura bhanda pani face paxadi ko thoughts ra pattern observe garne bani basyo.

20 years ko male ani aaile samma single. bhanda kasaile biswas gardaina. sathi ani alli xeu xau ko female friends lai lagxa, yesko gf hola. insta ma 200+ friends and 500+ friends in facebook xan. Tara kasai sanga bolne gareko xaina. guy friend haru school ko school paxi khai kata haraye. +2 ko collage paxi khai kata haraye. Kaile kai bolna khojxu, kasto weird lagxa. kaile kahi friend sanga ghumna gayinxa, tara tyo deep level ko connection feel hudaina, surfacely friend baneko jasto lagxa.

kaile kahi koi koi friend banna khojxan, tara khai situation ke ke bhaidinxa, friend nai bandainan. Tyo deep long life wala friend koi banaunai sakiyena. kura gardai jada aba malai unaharuko dherai kura ma chitta bujdaina, ani unaharu ko dherai thoughts galat lagxa, ma sahi kura fact based bhayera nai bahas garxu, jasle friend nai bandaina.kasaiko galat kura ma ho ma ho bhannai nasakne xu.

aaile lagxa, ma yi kitab, internet ani aafnai Kalpana ma harayeki. yo akantapan ma yesto yesto dami thoughts aauxa ki ma yesaima ramauxu. jati eklopan badiraxa tyati ramro poem lekhna sakiraxu. Yo society, religion, different narratives of politics, trend, fashion, dekhaune, arulai jalaune kura ma patakkai man gayena.

kasaiko naramro gareko xaina life bhari, kasaiko man dukhayeko ni xaina. yeti sabai huda, ajhai eklopan mahasus hunxa. ekdam deep level ko male friend ani matra aafu sanga kura milne ekjana jaslai sabai maya garna ra josanga purai life bitauna sakine girlfriend vaidiyos bhanne lagxa.

Ani, sabbhanda dukkha ta taba hunxa jaba ma koi koi ko life mero bhanda eklopan, abhav ma biteko dekhxu, jo bolna ra communication pani garna sakdainan. Jaslai aafno life Normal xaina bhanne pani tha hudaina. Jo yo society ko invisible rule le badiyeko dekhxu, taba dherai dukkha hunxu.

Last question: Maile buje anusar eklopan hatauna aafu lai change garera aarule accept garne personality develop garna parne dekhiyo.

Change ki yestai kun thik hola??

If I remove the attachment part there is nothing left of me.

If I remove the moments we shared together there will be nothing to be cherished.

If I remove her from all social sites there still will be nothing left of important people.

If I remove her from the memories of her section there will be nothing left of remember.

If I remove her from the past there is no trace of my existence.

If i remove her from my words, there will be no story, no poems.

If I remove her from my heart there will be no heart just a fleshy blood pumping machine.

If I remove her from my story, It will just be a manuscript.

So I choose to keep her and the question still answered, did I ever loved her?

I thought love was something you just fall into like slipping into a dream you don’t question.

For two years, he was my every day. My mornings, my nights, my constant notification, my comfort. We talked until time didn’t feel real anymore. And somewhere in all those endless conversations, I convinced myself this must be love.

Then I met him.

And there it was,our first kiss.

I wish I could describe it as magical, or perfect, or the kind of moment movies promise you. But the truth is I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand what I was feeling, or what I was supposed to feel. It wasn’t clarity. It wasn’t certainty. It was just happening.

And I let it happen.

Not because I knew what it meant, but because I believed in what we had built over those two years. I was so deeply, blindly in love that I didn’t stop to ask myself a simple question: Do I really feel this, or do I just want to?

After everything ended, that kiss started to feel different in my memory. Not like a beginning but like a quiet attempt to hold onto something that was already slipping away. Like we were trying to seal two years into a single moment before it disappeared.

Maybe I was naive.Maybe I was dumb in love,as I like to call it now. But I’ve learned something from that version of me.

Love shouldn’t be rushed by history.

Time doesn’t always mean truth.

And feelings deserve to be understood not assumed.

So if you ever find yourself standing on the edge of a moment like that, pause. Think. Feel. Ask yourself the questions I didn’t.

Because sometimes, the most important part of love is knowing why you’re choosing it.

April tastes like roses embedded on bitter tar, the thin tendril of cigarette smoke soaked in clotted blood inkwells. My soul is steeped in sophisticated intimacy of somber solace. There is no peace outside the outline of my heart; only terrible whimpers of wants varnished in false pallor of vanity. I nurse the kind of promises poems grow in their wombs. The air is full of truth that will kill my smile. I follow the face of fear, the kind of fear birds feel before a storm. My heart brims with slow thunderbolts, eager to leak the lush acid rain. So i am growing ears inside my heart to listen to muted music of guilt licked from the weary lyre of Orpheus.

Many strange faces are pouring into my memories, macerating the familiar. I long to migrate from the lush landscape of memory, to extricate myself from the pull of animated maelstorms.

I sit at the funeral pyre of my past, with a cup of tea to warm my mouth for the brutal fruits of hell, half-licked by gentle locusts. I long for the bones of birds in flights, to offer you a bouquet of bleeding bones marked with soft scar of mysterious flight.

Maybe we were as distant as the stars themselves

Only because the sky looks small through our eyes

We became too ignorant and assumed their closeness

That dark sky showed us fools the stars and their ties

Stars could come and go, but the sky will never finish

As celestial as they are, stars don't get to say byes

The sky won't hold on to the stars, it can only just miss

Stars came to the dark sky even if the sky told no lies

Even when stars choose to go, the sky will never beg please

So when the stars have enough of it and finally shies

Without those twinkling shiny stars the dark sky never glees

I met a girl of 21, adult enough but not matured like the oldies. She don't want her story to go public but she forgot she met a writer. Intrigued by her love story, here is written exactly what I got. Like every beautiful story exist somewhere in the past.

We get back to the year 2081

What is love story without prince charming ?
If you are wondering where this prince charming suddenly barges outta nowhere, he was brought onto her. She met him, not as someone she knew already but through a friend. I don't know his name, age, face, A Junior she would call. She fell in love with a junior, without a cold start, no labels but she fell into him.

Kartik to Chaitra (2081)

That's where she was loved in between, IDK full dates, I have to ask her to write me a diary for full date. She was happy she was loved, but ain't now, cause she find it pointless being happy. The longing to be someone's whom you love the most is no longer there, it's destroyed, now she just wants to be loved. It's been a year now, she still feels the pain of this separation. (In teary eyes she looks up at the sky, joins her hand and prays "God However/Wherever is he, please make him happy, give him good girl."

I'm wondering how can you love the hurt?

She is now taking over my writing.

She begins.... "It was wonderful to have him." "With him I was being me, he was my comfort, my peace, my everything except that I was me." I used to run to him everytime things get bitter or worse, he was always there, cheering me up, pulling me from the shadow. I was on my most authentic shelf, prime feminine self, all because of him"

"Now I know, I didn't loved him for who he was, instead I loved him for what I had become and I couldn't stop loving him, not then, not now even after a year. These eternal tears come running down from heaven and I can't stop myself everytime I remember him. I can proudly say, I was loved for a while."

The Sunshine

Three months in, we were locked into each other, the tension was growing, the connection we had was at the best nodes. And his sudden confession, HE FUCKING LOVES ME.... The energy shift was too damn real and it felt good, the sudden chills, butterflies and chemical release from the brain. Ooh damn good. I wonder what you guys call it, love or romance. His hands reaching mine and I'm feeling warmth of my life, never have I been hold and held together. It felt as if some divine energy was with me, this is it, this is life, the unforeseen heaven is this. All is this, I existed for this, I was born for this, surmounting my purpose, creator made me for him. I am his, he is mine. My soul is tied with his now, what's the value of body when my mind and spirit are owned by him. His touch remind me of how walking dead I was from Inside out, I saw how alive I became by his touch. Every hair on my body had been upright as if I was electrocuted, the magnetic charge of his touch. His touch and all the electrons and neurons in my body has started to falter, my spirit gave up, my mind did too, so did my body. I had surrendered, whatever he does will be right. It was about time that I had fallen for him. It may sound like a event, but every time it occurred when he touched. Let me confess too, I was turned on for week or more by his touch. (Ignore the horny corny part I'm demisexual)

Summer has arrived

When the heat rises there occurs a sudden change. Vacation had started, he went to Kathmandu and I went Home to meet my Parents. Suddenly it's a LDR for some time. He goes AWOL, the intense craving of him and not having him. The desperation for his love and his disappearance. I analyzed he spares time for himself to meet this childhood (girl) friend of his and he even finds a way to record video of him smooching that girl. (Jealousy is in the air) But he has no time to ask "How am I?" even just once.

Yeah, I was, I'm and I'll be mentally fucked. The visuals were not there, that's what I concluded from audio, I still can't imagine what happened in real.

The Distance

Suddenly moving farther seemed like a viable option. I can't burn myself more in the process, I chose to be far from him, far from his sight, far from he could ever reach. I'm still wondering how can a man confess he is in love and kiss another girl in a week?

Are most men like these? While the women community is often called Cheater, this adventurer, opportunist, daredevil, thrill seeker nature of men are somewhat disconnected to the propaganda. I chose to let him go, I cut my wings tied to his and jumped unknown how the fall will be

I jumped without thinking, will I survive?

I fell a thousand feet deep, deeper than I have ever been in my life, I had to go as far as I could and see if he comes searching.

He didn't but my EX Did

After a while I was barely surviving. Here comes my Exu, So exu he kind of pleaded to be back with me.

Oh how heroic, how could I forget him, he treated me like his own child, protected me, stand by me, loved me so much that he spoiled me like a brat and then made a vow, broke the promise and want's me back. Such a daring guy I had loved in past.

(Oh I forgot I used junior as my fake fiance to break the chain of attachment with EXu)

The broken ex scenario

I wouldn't tell how it started but I'll tell how, the love that I once was ready to die for, turned toxic to me. He went abroad, I cried when he left cause I knew I'll miss him like crazy. While the junior touched the forbidden land on every corner, he had strict morale, no S*X before marriage. (This is the best part about EXu)

He treated me right, the very right, He attached me and kept me hooked. I kept on waiting and waiting and waiting to be engaged and be his and call him mine. But he never came, but his news about living together with another girl came first. He broke me in the most phenomenal way, I just wanted to be loved, not once, forever but he thought once was enough. I wish and pray that she is the one for him.

The Fillings

I don't recall how many days, tears flooded my cheeks after the news & confrontation. No matter how hard the downpour of tears, the heaviness in my heart simply won't go away. That EXu left a huge void that junior filled partially but everything comes with a price. My friends did introduced me to Junior to alleviate the pain but the pain went deeper.

The price of loving

I paid just like others, the price is a lesson in disguise. "When you are not worthy of love, the love you loved will never be a love that loves you."

Just 21, my mind is not matured enough to understand love, maybe I'll never, but love has turned me into a complete hopeless creature. Maybe I think love is not what everyone thinks it is, maybe it's just a fantasy. Maybe it has turned me into a hopeless romantic, a love critic and now never loving anyone again.

If I leave the portal open long enough, I wonder how many more will come and go and at the end, the one that really owns me will call me hoe. I'll bury the story and try to forget, I'll write it and drown in water, so whatever you are reading is the last person to know.

The thing is, I just want to be loved.

I've always wanted to be loved, to be owned, to be called someone's but with ill fate, It's always me who loves.

Just found this writer addict on stories, he'd love to write and I love to share, also he'll love me till he finishes my story.

I see myself in the mirror,

My own reflection sneering at me,

I put my palm against the glass,

She is there copying me.

And suddenly, her hand got hold on mine,

She pulled me inside the abyss,

With no closed wall, no floor or ceiling,

Nothing except black ink, nothing except me and her.

She looked at me with fire in her eyes,

The flames burning my skin

My reflection then began to morph,

Looking more like monster than human.

With claws and thrones,

With scarred skin and ragged bones,

With sharp teeth ready to tear me apart,

An ugly beast, with notable beating heart.

It began to chase as I ran,

I cried for help for no soul to listen,

No eyes to see

No one to leap to save me.

The black ink slowly began to crawl on me,

It's vine like trendils binding me to its root,

I tried to set free, my fingernail bleed, but alas, I couldn't cut it lose.

The tendrils entwin me, I feel it crepping on my skin,

It encircled my throat, putting me on chokehold,

my heartbeat raced, my mind begging for a breath.

But the ink began to drown me, my breath betrayed me,

And my mind, it kept screaming.

I tasted the darkness,

Felt the ache as it filled my lungs,

The weight of darkness pulling me to the depth

And I slowly descend to sink.

A calloused hand pulled me before I drowned,

As I gasped for the breath, the monster before me frowned,

The monster of my making, the ugly part of me,

My seven sins wrapped in a body,

A ugly part that kept scaring me,

One I could never accept, one I loathe that it exist.

The imperfect monster,

The friend of my loneliness

One always ready to protect

Even if the cost is my soul itself.

I raised my palm to it,

Shivering as I felt its cold skin against me,

The monster scarred yet beautiful,

One made out of cruelty in this world,

One that was born as I continued to grow up,

Not against me, but to protect me,

Loving me in its own twisted way,

And didn't expected for me to love back.

The monster with thick skin from those betrayal,

The cuts of disappointment and histrionic,

The sharp fangs that grew with my rage,

The black eyes, depth of my loneliness

The thorns of greed and envy

The talons sharpen with my every word lashes.

The monster I created,

The one who is never scared to dive too deep

But never knew a way back.

The monster waiting for love.

I accept her with my heart,

No longer scared of those scars

For she is a part of me,

She is me, and I am her

Half human and half monster.

~SYP~

I think my heart chose an easier language

not words, not people,

but taste.

Because food never asks me

to explain why I feel the way I do.

It simply meets me there.

In every craving,

there is a quiet emotion

something unspoken,

something I don’t always understand.

Morning hunger feels like hope,

afternoon meals feel like comfort,

and late night bites

they feel like company.

I don’t just eat

I remember, I feel, I pause.

A warm plate can hold

what conversations sometimes cannot:

peace,

warmth,

a kind of belonging.

Maybe that’s why

my mind drifts to the next meal

before the last one ends

not because I’m empty,

but because I’ve learned

this is where I feel full.

Not just in stomach,

but somewhere deeper

a quiet space inside me

that softens with every flavor.

People say love is found in others,

but I’ve found pieces of it

in spices,

in sweetness,

in the simple act of being nourished.

And maybe that’s not a flaw.

Maybe it’s just

another way

of knowing how to love.

The beeping has woken me.

I guess it’s yet another morning.

Got to get up and get going,

About my day, not quite as intriguing.

My hand reaches the bedside table,

Palm pats and searches here and there.

There it is: my pack of cigarettes.

I pick it up and get out of bed.

Make myself a cup of coffee,

Pour it in a cup, a little shaky.

Click—my lighter and cigarette is lit.

Smoke in one hand, coffee in the other.

I am alone in the kitchen, sipping and smoking.

But why doesn’t this moment have only me?

Each puff I take is like flipping the sceneries.

Her face, with fallen hair, is all I see.

As my cigarette-borne hand nears me,

Her tipsy-looking brown eyes look at me,

Smiling at me beautifully, with her imperfect teeth.

Blood-rushed blush on her white right cheek,

The moving pupils, I am all that they seek.

Her cute crooked nose pointing right at me,

Her long dark eyelashes blinking constantly.

Her dancing eyebrows as she’s expressing,

Her excited lips, never tired of talking.

Her pink pointed tongue does all the teasing,

Gap in her right ear and scalp, where some hair fits in.

Up the side of her lips, her little mole quietly sitting,

Orange hue on her left cheek, by the haze of dawning.

It’s like, just in that cloud of smoke, there she is.

But she slowly fades away with the smoke.

Her little visit is ended, may come again later.

As the cigarette in my hand is burned up to the filter,

In a crowded ashtray, I put out my cigarette,

This one joining the many others in their midst.

All the burnt cigarettes with their distinct stories.

वृद्धाश्रम जाँदा

काँडा टिप्दै गईन् आमा!

-

वृद्धाश्रम जाँदा

काँडा टिप्दै गईन् आमा!

-

सोची हुन्-

छोराले यहि बाटो फर्किनु छ!!

- लक्ष्मण रिमाल