Writeia

We were at a construction site in the hilly regions of Nepal. The hills were just like any other, swathes of green lush hills as far as the eye could see. They were parallel across each other for miles and miles with traces of small or significant rivers flowing in between them. You’d take a road and it would inevitably lead you down to the rivers and high up again to connecting hills. Our work had begun a few months ago, and we were laying a few miles of asphalt road. If you’ve ever seen a road being built on the hills of Nepal, you’d know that we required a lot of rocks and strong stones. Mining the proper rocks that would qualify was a challenging task, to say the least.Rocks and stones were on our minds for weeks now. Locals and officials required wooing to get the job done, as is the case with any large construction project. We were quartered atop a small hill from which we could see parts of the road we were working on, it was a good vantage point. Across our small hill was a lar

It does get sticky at times. I've wondered for a long time what this may all be about. Well, it's about everything you can think of, and then some. It shouldn't have been my way of life, but within my heart, I can only find faint resistance, which also is always diminishing. I cannot, for the life of me, pinpoint the specific event that turned the tide to bring me up to this point, but I cannot assume any regrets, as my actions were my own, free will or not. The events of a life, written in plain words. I would have, at a young age, laughed at such a notion, but now I know a little more. What can one assume to understand about life when the whole future lies ahead, sneering at the victim who approaches it without fail? I also, at times, think of the things I did—some mentionable, some not. As I grow a little weary and as time brings me to acknowledge it, I pretend to hold an air of importance about myself, but deep within, I know that too is in vain. Such despair and contra

It's been years since I last posted something here, and today I felt like starting again. A few days ago, I lost a grandparent, and I don't recall much from my childhood experiences with her, but almost a month ago, I had visited her, and she recalled some of those memories. She talked about how she held me as a child and took care of me at times. Seeing her lie on the funeral pyre, I couldn't help but think of my own mortality. It may have been selfish on my part, but what can one do at a funeral except let the sadness pour over? There are a lot of things I had set out to accomplish. I'm 28 now, and many might feel that that's no cause for alarm, but as I have aged, there were a few things along the road that I really wanted to accomplish. I wanted to start a business and have a way to at least financially help my family along. I only have 3000 in my bank account, and that's in Nepali rupees. It's not that I didn't earn a good salary at times, but work