Writeia

What happened during the Two-Day Riot of 2025 is this: on the first day, people were protesting peacefully. The narrative put forward by the now-overthrown government claims that various factions infiltrated the crowd and aggravated it. I would be lying if I said the nature of any crowd is predictable. The sudden shift towards violence by the fascist ruler on the first day shocked everyone. That night—which I too spent awake, like many others around the nation, was steeped in silence—foretold what was the revolution to come the following day. The reason it took so little to bring down the entire system was that the security apparatus was unprepared for the reaction. What unfolded was not random chaos, but the accumulated anger and frustration of the Nepali people, directed at two decades of political failure and betrayal by the elite ruling class. The tragic bloodshed and destruction that followed marked a historical tipping point—one after which this nation, once again, has a chance ...

The Cost of September 8 and 9, 2025  The governmental infrastructure of our country—both politically and literally—took a heavy blow yesterday. Much speculation and conspiracy surround the events, but my take is simpler: what unfolded could have been prevented on the very first day of the protest. The violent response on Day 1 by the security forces, ordered by the now-defunct political leadership, led to the tragic and untimely deaths of many young children. This set off a chain reaction that no one could have fully predicted. Typically, in moments of mass protest, restraint is exercised to prevent escalation. Yet September 8 was different. It shocked people to their core, and what followed on September 9 was not spontaneous chaos but a reaction to that initial violence. Young teens were meant to lead the second day’s protest, and they did their best. But the agenda was no longer theirs alone. Others, equally angry, joined in, and the result was the devastation of national propert...

I've been getting a lot of flack from my folks for not amounting my life to anything. My excursions with my friends turn into a waste of time, they say, and I get the point. In my heart of hearts, I too feel that something productive must be done with my time—something useful. But I don't think seeking progress forever is either good or sustainable. That does not mean to say that I want to spend my time getting drunk and fooling around. I have come to realize society—my folks being a part of it—will only appreciate the way things are if they like what they see. Frankly, they can be lied to and they wouldn't mind as long as the truth is hidden away. I wish I didn't have to live like that, but such is my time, at least right now. I wouldn't know how to make anyone else understand this if they don't already feel this way. Anyway, it's 5 AM here right now, and I've woken up fresh in the morning, so I can write down my thoughts to you. Maybe you can understan...

I cannot fall in love—whoever I give my heart to ends up getting hurt. Am I cursed? Am I doomed to fail? What can a man wonder when everything around him seems to fall apart? This is where I stand right now. If only I could make you understand. I've always tried my best to be the good guy, but maybe being good shouldn't be something you have to try so hard at, if you're really good in the first place. Maybe you're just supposed to be it naturally—and I'm not that. There are so many people in my life that I try to impress. I don't seem to do so, but I try anyway. And she was one of them—until she showed me her true face. She sold me out at the moment I least expected it. I liked her as a person, but I never imagined she would betray me like that. I was planning to take her out to dinner some day because she had been such a big part of the project I was leading on at work. How was I to know she would be my downfall? Now—I’m leaving my job. And this is the la...

I’m on the verge of turning 30. Over the past decade, I’ve done a bit of everything—jumping between jobs, trying different paths, having fun along the way. But if I’m honest, my biggest regret is not taking care of my health the way I should have. That’s something I’ve started working on consciously now. At 28, though, I find myself burned out and uncertain about what comes next. I don’t know what steps to take toward a life that feels fulfilling. My parents think marriage is the answer. I don’t agree—not entirely. I feel the pull to marry, but not from necessity. The question “What next?” probably haunts most of us. Maybe that’s just human nature—to be unsatisfied, never quite “through” with anything. As I reach this point in my life, I realize that much of what I’ve experienced feels shallow compared to what I’ve learned. The last decade was mostly repetition: complaining about the state of the nation, the chaos in personal life, the same habits looping in a cycle. I didn’t really l...

I meet three friends regularly on the low. I enjoy their company, and I guess they enjoy mine. One of them is imaginatively named Blackey—because he's black. Another is called Sketchers; it's because he looks like one of those shoes you can get at Sketchers. The third is just "Dalley" (Shorty), on account of his height. Blackey is not like the other two. He stays with his folks and comes out for a few hours most days. The other two—they're homeless. They wander around and greet me excitedly because they know I have something for them and that they’ll get to eat today. There are some other neighbors, too, who do the same. Whenever those guys spot me, they come running. It’s fun to tease them as well. It’s been years since I’ve known these three, and they feel like good companions, even though all they can do is bark and wag their tails at me. Sometimes, during the day, I wonder what they might be doing, and the thought of them goofing around our street makes me ...

Am I greedy? Or is it ambition? Or perhaps just laziness?  Lately, I’ve been thinking of quitting work. Again. It seems like a pattern now—I dive into something, stay long enough to realize it’s not for me, then start looking for an exit. My reasons vary: sometimes it’s the dream of launching my own venture, sometimes a pull toward the art world. But if I’m honest, the cycle is always the same. I leave, I sit around for a few months trying to figure it out, and eventually, I find another job—usually one that pays better, but still, a job. And once the routine sets in, boredom follows, and I start unraveling. This time, I want to do it differently. I plan to speak with my senior—not to quit, but to seek advice. What I want now is to work on my own terms. I’d like to start something of my own, with his guidance if he’s willing. I believe I can do it. The only question is: what do I do? That’s the part that remains unclear. I don’t yet know what kind of venture will feel like mine ...

I remember it clearly — most of this happened more than a decade ago. Something in me snapped. I’ve never been the same since. I can think of many events from my life to begin this story with, but I’d like to go back to when I was 13. That was when I stole a digital camera. My friend — let’s call him Parbat — and I were strolling around our school compound when we spotted a digital camera on a bench. Without thinking much, we sat beside it and pocketed the shiny red object. It didn’t belong to us, but we sold it for 4,000 rupees. The next day during the school assembly, we found out who it belonged to. Nothing to do now — half the money was already spent. We decided to keep silent and spend the rest. From then on, two 13-year-olds were on the path to a business journey. We dealt in electronics: MP3s, cameras, PSPs, iPods — the whole lot. An odd deal here, a pen drive there — we were set. We made around 1,000 rupees on most deals. Unknowingly, we were disrupting the market for ano...

They’ve guided me for most of my life. I’ve always known how they feel about my shortcomings. At times, I feel completely lost in this business of living. What decisions are we supposed to make, the ones that shape the rest of our lives? I find myself wondering—alone in the night. I wish there had been a blueprint. It would have made things easier. Advice comes my way constantly—about my current state, my future—but it often feels more like a confession than a suggestion. Aren’t we all truly unique? I’ve been a traveler, guided by the day, by the necessity of the moment. The only place I get to wander—trackless, aimless—is here, on the page. Writing opens a door to a land that is mine alone. I fantasize about stories—most of them go unwritten. Daydreaming has always been one of my favorite hobbies. Sometimes, though, it turns into stress. I feel a sudden passion to write, to create, but that energy often has to be diverted to something else—something already committed to. It wreaks hav...

I don’t even know how many of my friends have gone abroad by now—I’ve lost count. I hear from them now and then, and I know what they say life is like over there. They work hard, day and night, often clocking 12-hour shifts. Yet, almost none of them work more than 40 hours a week officially. To work beyond that is considered excessive—almost criminal. It's tough, yes, but that’s the deal. Meanwhile, here I am at home, living a so-called normal life. My job runs from 10 AM to 6 PM, six days a week. That’s 8 hours a day, 6 days a week—48 hours total . That’s the standard for most average Nepalis. Let’s break down the rest of my week: My Weekly Time Breakdown: Activity Hours per Day Days per Week Total Hours/Week Work 8 6 48 Sleep 7 7 49 Eating 2 7 14 Travel (Commute) 1 7 7 Preparation (Bathing, getting ready) 1.5 7 10.5 Total Used 128.5 Total Available 168 Remaining Time 39.5 hours That means I’m left with 39.5 hours per week , or around 5.6 hours per day , for everything else:...