Your room barely seems like a place where a living person resides. It just feels a space with four dead walls surrounding. And you have no one other than those walls to listen and witness your unpleasant story. That’s how you start to believe the saying, “walls do have ears.”
Firewood burning, thick smoke raising above,dark stains on the ceiling and a kerosene lamp (Tuki) trying as hard as possible to light the dark room. Somewhere in the rural part of Nepal, a small family in Sisnebhanjyang village was living somehow in such a bleak ambience.
I desperately need to fall asleep,
the sound of raindrops outside won’t let me,
the cool wind coming in from the window won’t let me,
the flying curtains won’t let me,
the reminisce of those sweet memories created once in such a weather won’t let me.
For my eardrums can’t wait to beat with your voice,
For my eyes can’t wait to scan yours,
For my vocal cord can’t wait to utter some words for you.
The anxiousness and
The turbulent heart.
They are the most painful things but
indeed are worth suffering for.
The happiness of seeing you after years and the sadness of being detached from your life; both thumped me so hard at the same time. The moment was jubilant as well as dismal. It felt like everything yet nothing for me. The feelings were so ambiguous. They were coming from out of the world.