A nice house doesn't come easily. I was a child on a move due to my dad's fluctuations of jobs. I was observing the houses in the city through the window of my dad's car. What I saw through that window was that there can always be someone more capable than you and smarter than you financially who can live in a wealthy building in a lavish manner. Not being able to bring some changes is a static way to look at life. Changing jobs means some kind of motion is associated with your life. It keeps moving and changes you or makes you more resilient. The entry point is analysis of the events although, stories loathe analysis. When my dad felt empty I shared the room with him. Odd jobs were filling stomachs; it was also filling the vacuum which separated and still joined us. I thought "some lives have causes and some are just reactions." There can be too much rushing in life or too much waiting. I realize that when I stumble and I also see others falling that is when the light gets in and a whole room full of darkness can see. There is always a contemplation which demands a wakefulness maybe because life is like a wheel and it needs to run with action. You can choose the road to life, but you have to be sure of the destination.

This is my story without a plot because I am living it. I am too simple to tell this story. I am a young man growing up and it feels like I am sharing my seat with the world. Time and again I have to lose what I got. Jobs don't feel right and there is a voice hunting down the road I walk; separation and loneliness that only a paper understands. If your house is running and if you got all the honey, why would you even think what is on the other side of life, but yes, the other side has to be discovered. Time never dies and it never leaves one alone. We demand to flow ourselves; a flowing time is a discovery. All I think is putting words to pages. It is too simple. Private and public opinions of others are changing me slowly only because I am really listening. That search for a perfect thing to do and be is overwhelming always on my mind. I have opinions on things that matter. A subjective discourse is a true story although, this one is my flow of words. Being dependent to family is to be careful. I can understand that freedom is calling like a distant loudspeaker from a holy mosque offering prayers to the unseen and faithful omnipotent. You only have to reach out for that freedom. Only time has to be divided. With a hope that I will offer something to the society I close my chapter of the day. The book I am reading is my companion. I dream in words, I hear a social call being a waking bell for me. I just have to be there. This time I am not faltering although there is romance in the rain. Intellect is a capacity to measure the thoughts. A character sketch is a first step to story making. Not preaching in poems can still make the poems sound like hundred years ago which remains antique and sacred. That Dylan Thomas quality of raging against the dying of light knocks my door.

By Sushant Thapa

From: Nepal

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