Writeia

Nepal is looking blue right now. Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) is certain to become the largest party in the National Assembly of Nepal. The protesters who took to the streets six months ago definitely didn’t see this coming back then. The protests were against corrupt politicians and the exposure of their corruption. In a sense, the revolution happened in public—it was televised. Balen Shah, who is now being pegged as a potential next Prime Minister of Nepal, showed his support for the protests, but at the time there were no indications that he would join the RSP in the upcoming elections. Yet here we are. They are currently sweeping a majority of votes and look set to emerge as the victors. The direction the Gen-Z revolution took was not widely anticipated, but it has arrived at this moment. Two days ago, the people I saw heading toward the voting booths seemed hopeful about the future of Nepal. So am I. It wasn’t a protest that took place so that the RSP could lead the nation. B...

I've always been a firm believer that social changes start from the individual and go on up from there to make large impacts. With that in mind, I have decided to do at least one good thing a week that will help make a positive social impact in our nation. I do not have the resources to make it at the national level, so I am choosing to begin from my hometown, Kathmandu. My current office is located at Pepsicola, and there is a sight that I don't like while going there. A private land has been turned into a garbage dump. It is easy to think how it came to that: after the first piece of garbage was left there without being picked up, others began piling up, and one after another, the site became what it is today. There are thousands of places like that around the Kathmandu Valley, and I doubt that I alone will be able to clean them all, but I can still show the people what it is like and what impacts such a thing makes on our health, both physically and mentally. I cannot take i...

The whereabouts of our previous prime minister are still unknown. He, they say, has gone into hiding. His followers are scattered, and those who remain close to him still tout his greatness. The decades it took for this generation to rise up have been informative as to why the revolution happened—and why, within forty-eight hours, a standing democracy was thrown into crisis and restored just as quickly. The damage is done, the blow is dealt, and the result came as swiftly as this generation expected. By the standards of years that other nations go through to topple a government, ours was minute-made—sort of like the short videos we get on our mobile phones. Those videos and their instant dopamine hit can be metaphorized here by the quickness with which an entire government was toppled. This is a story, mind you. I, too, know some parts of my nation’s history. I, too, after all, was born here. What covered my childhood—or rather, the most traumatic parts of it—were bloodsheds all around...

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 ...