Back after a while..

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 has always felt draining; maybe that's because I didn't have complete faith in the work I was doing. I've always wanted to have a creative path in life, and for that part, I was able to start this blog, which I didn't continue even though I had a lot of incentive to do so. That does not mean I gave up creating as a whole; I write extensively, but those are for my eyes only. This is me resuming my journey of creativity and putting my work out there one step at a time, with this commitment towards you, my dear reader. I will publish my poems and short writings on a regular basis now. However, this does not mean that I have high aims for this sort of work. I am constantly reminded that writing is a dying art, but I refuse to believe that, and this journey will also then be a protest towards achieving ultimate satisfaction.

Here's a poem I wrote after my visit to my Grandma's place ;

Death by Design

Why would a creator destroy his design ? An enthusiastic soul that is to resign. How does one blow away that ultimate flaw, Laid in ice, left the cold soul to thaw, Think not, because thoughts don't matter, Ours is a life of glass that is set to shatter, The crass last hour that is forced onto your time, It is the part of the rhyme, part of
the ultimate design.