The stories of a Crazy girl!

  मेटिन्छ्न् के भावना कहिल्यै?                                            यादहरु त लुक्ने रहेछन् कुनै कुनामा अनि के भावना नअल्झिएका होलान् र तिनमा कतै? हुँदैनथे त डुलिरहन्थे नै किन यादबिनाका भावना भावनाबिनाका सम्झना सम्झना बिनाका कल्पना.... कोल्टे फेर्दै छटपटाउने त होइन न छाहारीमा शितल हावासँगै टोलाउने र पनि खै मीठो निद्रामा हुँदा रहेछन् कतै बिहानीसँगै नझुल्किदिने दुखका वर्षामा पनि नझस्किने न हाँसोमा बेरिएर रुवाउने न आँसुमा डुब्दा काउकुती लगाउने। आफ्नै दिनचर्यामा अल्झिरहँदा पार्श्वमा बिलाइरहेको कुनै धुन झैँ टाढा सूक्ष्म पाउमा परेर पनि नबिझ्ने अचल अदृश्य परिधिमै रहेर पनि ढुकढुकी नसुनिने अनि बगिरहन्छन् दिनहरु चलिरहन्छन् भित्तामा टाँगिएका अङ्क अझै टाढा टाढा बढारिदिँदै कहिलेकाहिँ चाहेर पनि ठम्याउन नसकिने। त्यस्तै कुनै एक दिनमा अरु दिनझैँ न्यानो एक दिनमा दिनहरुको भिडमा हराउन सक्ने मात्र अर्को एक दिनमा अर्कै दिशामा अर्कै गन्तव्यतिर हिँड्दा हिँड्दै ...

Growing up, girls are told there are only two kinds of girls, either a "typical girl" or "not like other girls". That being "like other girls" is bad. And before you even get to know any girl when they grow an actual personality, you start staying away from them because you want to grow your own personality. Because you are told girls don't have personalities, and you want to be different. You want to look cool, you want to fit in, you want to be accepted, you want to stand out, you want the guys to like you, and for that, from all around you, you have to be different than other girls. I know because I used to believe that. Grew up a few interests I told girls can't have so I thought every day, I had to try and be more and more different from them. That there was nothing I could possibly talk to a girl about because hey, "All girls talk about is makeup! Makeup BAD! Girls BAD!" The more I believed I could not talk to girls, girls wouldn...

 You Yes you! You there with your jokes and acts that you claim do not mean harm Do you know what they do to me? They make me want to crumble into pieces hide somewhere inside myself wishing I was a turtle with a rock hard shell that could stand it all not be pierced by all you shoot the stares and words like flaming swords that burn right through me Turn me to dust unable to sweep myself off my feet anymore I hide, it makes me weird I show, it makes me bad How to I ever escape this maze as long as I exist? or may be even after... You You there with your hormones at rage the ones you blame at any age and desires you claim you cannot hold back Do you know what they do to mine? They turn my life completely around without a trace on yours somehow Make me run away From you from myself from everything that once mattered All in search of a safe place that can never be found They make me doubt it I am wrong they make me believe you are right that may be...

 I know you don't remember the day you touched my scars. You looked at them in pity and distaste but not in disgust. You gave a nod that said "you are a fool" but not unlovable. I was afraid your reaction might add more pain to them but you touched it in a way they wanted to heal. I was afraid they were going to push you away but then you pulled me close. You held me to your chest. "Was it necessary?" you asked. But your eyes knew better. The way they looked at me, they did not need an answer. We gave eachother our silence. Our embrace. And the cuts didn't matter anymore. I know you don't remember the day you touched my scars, but I play it in my mind everytime its your turn to be the fool. I take my turn to do what you did that day. Love, anyway.

 सपना पूरा भए हाम्रा पुरा भए तिम्रा अरु कोहिसँग नाता गाँसियो तिम्रो नयाँ जिन्दगी भरिलाई छुटियो मसँग को हुँ र म? के हक र मेरो? के अर्थ मेरो मायाको? आगोको वरिपरि तिमीसँग नघुमेको मेरो मायाको के अर्थ वर्षौँसम्म मनसँग मन जोडेको? जब नाम जोडियो तिम्रो अरु कोहिसँग उता बिदाइका आँसु दुनियाँले देखे होलान् के अर्थ मेरा लुक्दै सिरानिमा बगेका आँसुको तिम्रा ती नौमती पन्चेबाजाले ढाकिसकेका अँध्यारो कुनामा रोक्दारोक्दै फुत्केको मेरो रोदनको उसँग तिम्रा हात मिलाउन फुल कतिले छरे होलान् त्यहाँ के अस्तित्व रह्यो सुनसानमा मिल्ने हाम्रा हातको हाम्रा मनको मेट्दै छौ होला मेरा यादहरु मैले भन्दा सजिलै तिमी ठाउँ खाली गर्दै नयाँ याद जो लेख्दैछौ अरु कोहिसँग कुन्नी कसरी चुने जिवनभरिलाई हिजोसम्म नदेखेको कसैलाई मसँग नै भविष्य देख्न डराउने तिम्रा ती आँखाले खै कसरी पहिलो भेटमै हाँस्न सके कुनै सङ्कोच बिना मसँग हुँदा मात्र मुस्कुराउँछु भन्ने ती ओठले तस्विर कुन हेरेर छान्यौ तस्विर आफ्नो कुन पठायौ हाँसो त तिनमा मैले नै दिएका होलान् चिनायौ होला साथीलाई नाम थरले मात्र तिसँगको कहानी त ...

 केही अन्त्य अनुत्तरित प्रश्न आफ्नै जवाफ आफैँ बन्नुपर्ने जवाफदेही नहुने रहेछ कोहि यहाँ कसैको लागि किन? कोट्याइरहन्छ सधैँ हजारौँ अन्य प्रश्नभन्दा उत्तर उति नै जटिल म खनिरहन्छु यादका सुरुङहरु किन? किन? बर्बराउँदै जति नजिक पुग्छु तर अन्धकार पाउँछु उति काँप्तछु अनि के म साँच्चै चाहन्छु त्यो अन्त्यमा पुग्न? कुन्नी! जति जति खोज्दैछु त्यसलाई भाग्दैछु उति नै अझ कि डराउँछु अन्तमा कतै सत्य भेटिएलान् ती सत्य जो म सुन्न चाहन्नँ वा ती जो म मान्न चाहन्नँ कि डराउँछु अन्त्य कतै अन्त्य नै हुने हो भावनाका प्रश्नका सियोमा पिरोलेर अझै सँगालिरहेका कतै बगाइ जाला जवाफका बाढीले र त अर्को एउटा प्रश्न म आफैँ नदेखेझैँ नसुनेझैँ हिँड्छु, अनुत्तरित के त्यो उत्तर तिमिसँग छ वा मभित्र नै कतै?

 झस्केर ब्युझिएँ स्वप्न उहीँ क्षणझैँ जीवित वर्तमानभन्दा समीप त्यो अतीत मेरा सपनालाई चिरेर त्यो सुइ कुन्नी कता पुग्यो घाउ अझै बिझाइरहन्छ रक्त तर बहिरहन्छ अश्रुमा घोलिँदै मेरा चीत्कार रोक्न बढेका ती हात कति तालीका गड्गडाहटमा मिसिएका होलान् यता मेरो चित्कार फुत्किरहन्छ अनि रोकिरहन्छ आफैँ आफैँ एक अदृश्य डरले म र मेरा कथा यसैगरी ब्युँझन्छन् हर रात हर क्षण र म सुम्सुमाइरहन्छु समाजको लोरी गाउँदै वास्तविकता नामक राक्षसका दन्त्यकथा सुनाउँदै म र मेरा कथा कुन्नी कहाँबाट सुरु भए तर समाप्त हुँदैनन् कहिल्यै बरु थपिरहन्छ अर्को एक अध्याय अर्को एक अध्याय जति जति लाग्छ सुखमय अन्त अब त आउनुपर्ने यी कथाकि पात्रलाई अब त कुनै मोडले रुवाउनु नपर्ने कुन्नी कुन कालो बादलबाट बर्सिरहन्छन् पीडा कथा छ त पीडा छ पीडा छ र त कथा छ म र मेरा कथा अल्झिरहन्छौँ यिनैमा कुनै स्वर्गीय संसारको आशामा बढिरहन्छौँं अर्को दर्दनिय अध्यायतर्फ! म र मेरा कथा व्यर्थझैँ लाग्छन् कहिले न सुनाउन म सक्षम छु न सुनिदिन कोही न सुनिदिएर बुझिदिन कोही के अस्तित्व नसुनाइएका यी कथाको के अर्थ जीतको ब...

प्रीय मुलान आज कुन्नी कहाँबाट केही कुनामा थन्किएका स्मृतिका पानाबाट भुलिन थालेको बाल्यकालबाट तिमिलाई सम्झिएँ मुस्कुराएँ वा आँसु बगाएँ कुन्नी तर झस्किएँ। अनि कलम समात्दैछु यो अन्धकारमा बिहानी होला केही क्षणमा तर केहि कुरा छन् मनमा तिमिसँग गर्न अनि निदरी छाडी शब्दमा अल्झिएँ। कति ईतिहास हौ तिमी कति दन्त्यकथा कति डिज्नीकी प्रीय पात्र तर हौ त तिमी म झैँ एक छोरी बस्, अरु के नाता गासुँ? कवच ओढि तिमी वक्ष लुकाइ युद्दस्थलमा भिडेको कथा म सधैँ सुन्थेँ आज आउ फुर्सदमा छौ भने कवच उतारी बस छेवैमा संगिनिझैँ बात मारौँ आज मेरो युद्धको कथा सुनौँ! प्रीय मुलान! हामी कुन्तिपुत्र कर्ण त हैनौँ! न तिमी त्यो कवचमा जन्मिएकी थियौ, न म! लामा रेशमी केश सुन्दरताको भेष तिमीलाई पनि राम्रो लाग्थ्यो होला कुनैबेला? मेरो मन पनि त्यही माटोले ढाँचिएको हो मुलान! म पनि रमाउने गर्थेँ दर्पणको छायाँमा चलचित्रका मायामा सुरिलो धुनमा अरुलाई सिँगार्ने सुनमा पाउजुको ध्वनिमा सुनौलो बिहानीमा निर्धक्क भइ हिँड्थेँ म कुनैबेला मुलान! गुनगुनाउँदै, लहराउँदै के थाहा थियो र म कुनै मीठो गीतमा नभइ य...

"तीजको लहर आयो बरी लै!.." सायद पल्लो घरको रेडियोमा होला घन्किएको। महिना दिन देखि घन्किरहेका स्पिकरको भिडमा त्यो रेडियो अनि "हामी पनि नाच्नु पर्छ बिचबिचमा" को बिचमा कमै सुनिने कन्यादानको यो गीत। आजको बिहानी फ्ल्याशब्याकको लहर ल्याउने नियतले नै मेरो आँगनमा आएको जस्तो लाग्दैछ। "हो, सधैँ यसरी छोरी मान्छे जसरी चिटिक्क परेर बसे पो राम्री देखिन्छ। सधैँ कपालै नकोरी, स्पोर्ट्स सुज लगाएर खुट्टा बजाउँदै हिँडेर हुन्छ?" आमालाई आफ्नो सन्तान दुनियाँमा सबैभन्दा राम्रो लाग्छ रे भन्छन्। सन्तान जस्तो देखिए पनि आमाले राम्रो देख्छिन् रे, जति मोटाए पनि आमाले सन्तान दुब्लाएकै देख्छिन् रे पनि भन्छन्। भन्नेले मेरी आमालाई चिन्दैनन् सायद। मेरी आमाका धेरै सपना छन् मसँग जोडिएका; मैले प्रगती गरुँ, धेरै पढुँ, ठुली मान्छे बनुँ, कमाएर बाबाआमालाई पाल्न सकुँ, राम्रो घरमा बिहे गरुँ आदि इत्यादि । तर सबैभन्दा ठूलो सपना भने मैले घरबाट निस्किनु अघि ऐना हेरुँ; फुक्का मुहार, निन्द्रा नपुगेका आँखा र रङ्गहिन ओठहरुमा रङ्ग भर्ने रसायन लगाउँ र टोलका केटाहरु नै तर्सिने गरि हात हल्लाउँदै, जुत्ता बजा...

Another set of eyes stop to stare at me. Maybe I am dressed wrong? I try to adjust the shawl and my own thoughts seem stupid to me. If this is dressing wrong, then I don't know what one would call dressing right. An hour back, standing before the mirror, my mind was flooding with confusions of what to wear. If it were back in my home in Nepal, nothing could have made me think so much about dressing up. I would have picked my usual set of shirt and jeans, grabbed my earphones, and would have hopped off to somewhere feeling comfortable. But here I was in my hostel in Bangladesh. Going out alone in jeans would have been stupidity. I definitely didn't have the guts to have a 20 minutes long rickshaw ride with people staring at me. So kurtha and salwar it was. Then the usual questions like which one, which colour, with what pair of trousers and with which shawl, bombarded me. The others were easy to answer, but the one I was stuck at was the shawl. I could not find my fav...

There was a time when I had these huge dreams. I wanted to accomplish everything at an young age, I was scared if my dreams would die like that of my parents. I would even think of never getting married because the way I saw, it trapped you. I would write songs and think of having them recorded and even plan a whole music video, imagine it playing on the radios. However I didn't have that kind of money. I wrote novels and imagined getting them published and sold, getting prizes for those. I laugh when I remember I actually even met a lot of publishers by searching the addresses and going there alone, when I was just 18 or less. The thing was, I was so stupidly determined I would do something big, become someone famous at an early age. We've all read biographies where people started at an young age, nobody believed them and they ended up big right? I was determined, that it was my fate to become a famous person like that. But more than that, I was scared, what if I die without ...

 ( Was filled with the urge of writing this after seeing posts about Swosthani on social medias ) Yes we don't read Swosthani in our house every year. No I'm not an Atheist. I don't know if I qualify as a religious person. I celebrate every festival. I bow down at every temple I see. I pray to God and put tika before exam and flights. But we have never read Swosthani in our home, as far as I remember. I once remember reading Swosthani when I was younger, not aloud though. I didn't worship the cover before reading it, I just put it on my lap and read it. To me, I was just reading another book. I remember there was this Goma of 7 or 17 years who married a 70 years old man. ( I haven't read it ever after that day so I'm not really sure about the facts. ) That part seemed absurd to me, even as a schoolgirl. I imagined myself, around the same age, marrying such an old man; and it scared me! I just put the book aside and never completed it. There are things like ...

"Will you be fine now? Do you want me to stay?" She slowly unwrapped her arms from around her little brother as he gave her a nod as an answer. "But this hurts, I just realised." He said, with a short shy and guilty glance at his hand. "Of course it does. I will go get some ointment, you stay here." With that, she left the room, taking just one more glance at his arm. Some old and some new, there was hardly any part of the skin on his left forearm and palm not carrying the burden of any scars or cuts. Scars, she had known them too well for too long. She could tell by looking at a scar how much a person had suffered. She could tell which scars were from self-harm and which from suicidal attempts. The numerous, shallow, scary to look at, those ones were from "self-harm". Usually done when a person loathed himself so much that he would want to cause pain, see himself suffering, and fill himself up with physical pain enough to overwrite the actu...

आज उही बिदाको दिन जसको पर्खाइमा हप्ताका बाँकी दिन कटाउँछु म । पढाइ र प्रोजेक्टको पन्जाबाट मुक्त भएर  दिनभर यसैगरी यो शहरलाइ झ्यालछेउ उभिएर नियालिरहने दिन । अग्लाअग्ला भवनका बिचमा हुरिसङ कुस्ती खेलिरहेका नरिवलका पात हार्दै, ठक्कर खाँदै मेरो झ्यालका सिसामा ठोक्किन पुग्छन्, अनि म सुनिरहन्छु तिनमा कुनै मिठो धुन भेटे झैं । टाढा टाढासम्म नरिवलका रुख, केही पर नेटवर्कका अग्ला टावर अनि पार्श्वमा धमीला निला पहाड। मान्छेको होहल्ला भन्दा काग कराएको प्रष्ट सुनिने, ओहो! विकसित भएर पनि कति शान्त छ सलेम शहर! आफ्नो देशभन्दा धेरै टाढा, दक्षिण भारतको यो शहरमा जिवनको बाटो खोज्दैछु म। इन्जिनियरिङले सास फेर्न दिएको समयमा सम्झने गर्छु घर-परिवार र देश, आखिर एकदिन डिग्रीसहित फर्कनु जो छ। तर देश यति व्यस्त छ कि अरु कैयौँ  युवालाइ झैँ बिर्सिएकै होला मलाइ पनि। भुकम्प, नाकाबन्दी, राजनीती, युद्ध , केही न केहिले सताइरहने मेरो देशलाइ फुर्सद होस् पनि कसरी! अहिले पनि देश र मधेसको विवाद चल्दैछ रे! जब यो शहरलाइ हेर्छु, हिन्दी बोलेको नरुचाउने, हिन्दी चलचित्र नचल्ने, आफैँमा रमाइरहेको यो दक्षिण भारतलाइ हेर्छु, ड...