When people tell you,
To sacrifice the life you wanted;
The freedom, you'll have preferred.
The autonomy that was owed to you;
The Independence, that should have been a given.
The emotional support, that never was;
The choices, that's allowed to be made.
The future, you dreamt of
Your frail Hands
We arrived at Macchapokhari, Balaju in the morning sometime around 6:30. Around 7, our bus left the bus stop. But this post is not about the itinerary. It's about the people, I met along the way. There were a few that left their mark.
The first day, we got lost. We didn't take a turn to Dhunche, instead going straight ahead. And when we realized it and made a U-turn, it was late at night. So, as an all-girls troupe, we were pretty worried. So, as the night came, we decided instead to ask help from the locals. One of them decided to help us and guided us through a shortcut to a boarding house in Dhunche. It was really helpful of him.
Then, I because of my slow pace, I got separated from my group. I was walking rather slowly on my own vibe, listening to music when I noticed them, an hour from Dhunche. The Aryal Family. They were a group of 5-6 people, 3 adults and rest minors. One as young as 6-7. I noticed them particularly, because the second youngest would run all the way ahead, and then wait for the rest of the family to catch up. And then run again. The youngest girl walked with me for an hour or more. I found out later that she thought I was struggling with Asthma with how easy I was tiring. It would have been offensive if it wasn't so sweet.
The third were the two children who worked at the place I stayed at. I talked to them. When asked, both of them promptly replied they didn't want to study anymore. It was probably taught to them. But even if it wasn't, these children deserved a childhood. And I wish so bad, we could provide it to them.
Then there was the 50–60-year-old and his tour guide. I don't where he was from. But damn, I wish I would be that active at 50–60-year-old. They were also friendly and mostly in a good mood. Infact all of them were, probably why I enjoyed the trekking so much.
And finally, I met an American guy. Scott, I believe his name was. A lot of new changes in his life. New job, new place, and even his son moving out and doing new things. I believe Gosainkunda or rather Nepal was his familiar. He even pointed out the increase of Nepali travellers/trekkers in the recent years, and also the absence of Chicken in the written menu of Gosainkunda.
Overall it was fun, because I had these experience. It was like I shared an experience in Human Library. So many different people, lives and experiences.
Rhea looked out of her window. Bored and Tired of life, She didn't understand why she needs to continue the struggle. The struggle of life. It neither had a beginning nor an end. It just continued on and on and on. It was a pattern. Wake up, Eat, Commute, Work, Same work, Same colleagues, Same Conversation, Same jokes, Commute, Home, Eat, Sleep. Repeat, Repeat and Repeat! Day in & Day Out! She would have given up a long time ago. It was tiring. And yet, no-one seemed to be bothered by it. Some had even made it their purpose of life.
Without her parents, she would have given up a long time ago. In fact, she had even bought a bottle of poison, long time ago when it was easy to attain. There were days, she took the bottle out and stared at it for hours. Contemplating, if her parents were worth continuing this depressing struggle at all. Sometimes, she resented them for bringing her into the world, for making her live.
And today, this struggle was coming to an end. She had just cremated the last of her parents. And once more, she was here with the bottle in hand. She was free now. Free to end it all!
Through the cracks on the concrete
In the Chinese Panda Zoo
In the midst of the Sahara Desert
On the rocky mountains of the Himalayas
in the extreme cold of the Antarctic
But thrives on the warm climate, fertile soil, humidity of the equator
In that second,
where your hand touches my body,
I forget everything,
craving, waiting & asking for more.
Reality strikes,
I remember your words.
The most honest,
And yet the cruelest!
Anxiety grips my body,
Knowing that all of this would vanish.
These stolen moments,
Won't be mine anymore.
And yet I am here, want to be here;
for the times you'll have me for
Self Preservation screams,
And yet here I am
Doing the most cruel one can to oneself.
Knowing that you'll be gone
once you find someone you'll fancy more.
Someone that will hold your heart.
Someone you'll be waiting to give more than just your body to.
The one whose voice you'll want to hear,
The one whose presence you'll crave.
The one you'll remember in the most randomest of moments
The one whose thoughts will matter to you.
And yet here I am praying hopeless,
That my crush will be over before your lust for me does.
“Stay” Her heart whispered.
“They have life to live” Her rational brain reasoned.
“You think they will want to stay” Her anxiety snarked.
“Push them away” Her hurt begged.
“You always do this!” Her loneliness moaned.
