Dear someone I’ve yet to meet,

Hello.

It feels weird writing to someone you haven’t met. It’s weirder still telling them that you miss them. Yes. I miss you. Even though the fabric of space-time hasn’t allowed our union, and even though English grammar forbids me to speak of future events using the present tense, I cannot find any other words to express what I feel right now, probably because the words are yet to come and do not wish to be brought forth before their time. It feels like you are a part of me, and I miss you.

I hope we meet soon. I have so much to tell you and you have so much to tell me. There is so much we have yet to do together. But maybe I’m taking a lot of presumptions here — I don’t even know if you’re one or many. Maybe I’ll see parts of you in other people, living each moment with a different person but still feeling the same warmth in all of them, the warmth that I call you. Or maybe you’re a single person I’m going to meet, someone who will complete me in some way. Or maybe I’ve already met you, but our timelines are yet to cross in a meaningful manner.

Maybe I’m a giant jigsaw puzzle that has lost too many squares and you’re a giant jigsaw puzzle that has lost too many squares, but in some divine way I have all your missing pieces and you have all of mine, and this is why I’m searching for you and this is why you’re searching for me. We’re just looking for our missing pieces, the pieces that were never there, the pieces that were taken and never returned, the pieces that just disappeared as time went on.

I guess everyone is a giant jigsaw puzzle, constantly searching for their missing pieces.

I miss you sounds wrong now, since the only way I’ll ever complete myself and the only way you’ll ever complete yourself is for us to take over each other completely. And that wouldn’t be a single I any more, or a single you. We miss you would be better suited.

Having said all that, I don’t know why completing puzzles is so important.

But what I do know is that the bare thought of being with you takes my breath away. I can’t even place my feelings. It’s one of those moments that no artificial construct, let alone words, can ever describe. It’s like looking at the stars at night and suddenly realizing that you will never be able to understand their beauty with such a clouded mind. It’s like watching a sunset turn the whole world red and then black with such grace that you’re left wondering when the evening ended and the night began.

I look at the world and I see so much that I feel like my heart is going to burst. So I shield myself from this grandeur. I wear the tinted lenses of apathy. I ignore the beauty around me, simply because I feel that if I take off these glasses I’ll be blinded by the light. And this is why I need you. And this is why you need me. I trust you more than I trust myself and you share similar faith in me.

So tell me everything is going to be alright, and take off my glasses. I’ll be happy to do the same to you. We’ll face the light together, you and I.

I really hope we meet soon. We miss you.

Yours,
Someone you’re going to meet

I’m not a pro-Nepali.

Yes.

I am not a pro-Nepali.

Now before I get bashed with “त धोती”, hear me out. I’m not pro-Nepali, because, frankly speaking, there is nothing we’ve done that we should be proud of.

There are a lot of things in this country that are just plain wrong. Firstly, there’s the dispute of Buddha being born in Nepal. Now let me get the facts straight. Siddhartha Gautam was born in Nepal. His spiritual self, called Buddha, was born in India, Bodh Gaya to be precise. Yes, he was born here. But Buddha wasn’t his real name. Buddha was born in India. Siddhartha Gautam was born in Nepal. Yes, they’re the same person, but what the Indians are saying isn’t completely false. So instead of shouting anti-Indian slogans Nepalese people need to think. We need to settle this matter like adults.

It’s what this generation lacks the most. Everyone is so obsessed with being anti-Indian that they forget why they even are against them. And when opinions like mine are voiced to the public, no one has any answer except “ट धोती को चाक चाट्न जा”. We are human beings. Human beings are different from animals because we can reason. If all you have against my point of view is those kind of slogans, you are not more than an animal. At least I’m making a valid point.

As a matter of fact, why should we even be proud about the fact that Siddhartha Gautam was born here?

Nature just gave him to us. We didn’t do anything that resulted in his birth, and even after his death, we barely gave him any importance. If this was so important, why isn’t Nepal a Buddhist country? Why are majority of the people Hindus? Are we doing justice to Buddha? Are we actually against non-violence? We’ve had a civil war. We sparred with the British. We’ve fought with Tibet. Is that non-violence? Yes, I know we had to defend ourselves, but the whole point of non-violence is resisting the urge to fight when we are provoked. We did the right thing, yes. But it was not through non-violence that we decided to resist the invasions.

Face it people, we didn’t do anything before Buddha was born, we didn’t do anything to strengthen him, and we didn’t do anything to uphold his legacy. It was a gift, Siddarth being born here, but we wasted it. I know Lumbini is now refurbished and it’s well maintained, but only recently have we been able to realize its importance. But what bugs me the most is that one of the focal points of Lumbini is The Ashoka Pillar, which was built by…

Guess who.

An Indian.

We should be ashamed of ourselves. Ashamed of the fact that we’re blessed with so many gifts, but we’ve wasted every single one of them. We’ve been blessed with 8 of the top 10 mountains in the world. But we’ve done nothing to make them stand out in the world. Majority of the people in the world barely even know our country even though we have 8 OUT OF 10 HIGHEST MOUNTAIN PEAKS IN THE WHOLE FRIKKIN WORLD! Is it nature’s mistake that we aren’t popular? Who is to blame?

No one but ourselves. Not the Indians, not the Chinese. It’s us. We’re the problem. And instead of realizing that we ourselves did this to our country, we blame other people for everything.

We’re not going to fix everything by playing the blame game. It’s time for us to do something. It’s time.

I’m ready to fix my country.

Are you?

What if

Of all the questions that boggle me, this one must be by far the most puzzling and time consuming.

There are two theories in Physics that make “What if”s so confusing. One is the Quantum Theory, which says that there is always a small probability of something happening.

Let me give you an example. Suppose you don’t have enough time to study for the examinations so you skipped everything and only read one chapter. You then go to the exam hall to take the test. There is a probability that you will ace the test, a very minute fraction, but it’s still there. Let’s say that it wasn’t your luckiest of days so you ended up failing. Then, suppose, you’re offered a re-test and you’re allowed to take as many re-tests as you want. Provided that you take the test again with different questions each time, there will come a day when you score an A in that test. Or maybe you might even get lucky and get the best question set on the first try. This is the theory of quantum probability.

The next one is the Chaos Theory, which says that minor changes in initial conditions result in completely different end products.

The most popular example I can give is the Big Bang. The universe as we know it today is actually like this because there was a slight difference between the number of particles and the number of anti-particles during its first stages. We might have ended up completely different even if the ratio had been changed by a minute fraction.

I combined these two and got the What If theory.

What if I was born a day earlier? There is a probability that I would have. Would it have made any difference? Most of my major life decisions came out of the blue. I studied in BNKS just because my father overheard one of his colleagues talking about sending his son for the student extension program. What if he had to drink some water at that time? There was the probability that he wouldn’t have heard them. What if he hadn’t paid attention to the conversation? There is a probability for that as well. My life would have been completely different from what it is now.

I ask myself this a lot. I’m sure my life would’ve turned upside down if my first computer had contained Windows 95 instead of XP. No “Like Humans Do” for me then. No endless searching for answers. I wouldn’t be into philosophy. Maybe I’d be a shallow person. Maybe not. What if I had made a slightly different set of friends in junior school? What if my health had worsened? What if I had allergies to corn?

The thing is that I’m who I am simply because the conditions turned out this way. There was always the probability that I would’ve been born dead, like my older brother. I would have had no life, no friends. I wouldn’t even be writing this.

What if?

Finding Solace in Speed

I find solace in speed.

Don’t get me wrong though; I am not a bad driver. I don’t crank the accelerator just to see what happens. I don’t take unnecessary risks. I’ve never ever been in an accident, even a minor one.

But there is something in speed that I can’t get enough of.

It all started when I was very little. My father and I used to go to long drives together in his motorcycle. I liked these rides so much that I begged my father to take me to school on his motorcycle even though a bus was available.

In fact, I liked motorcycle rides so much that I’d always choose a two-wheeler over a four, no matter how cold it was. Riding in the wind was one my favorite things.

But then things changed and we got a car. Motorcycle rides became less frequent. I got older. I forgot what I liked and what I didn’t. Adolescence is a confusing time. It tears apart everything you know about the world and expects you to find yourself in the mess it leaves behind. Needless to say, I had forgotten how much motorcycle rides meant to me.

And then came the day when I got my own scooter.

It took me about one month to master the basic driving skills. I got my license.

And then I met my childhood friend Speed again.

There was something in the air that drew me to speed. No, it wasn’t the fun of the race or the thrill of the chase. It was the wind.

At speeds of a 100 kilometers an hour, the only things you can hear is the wind, the engine, and your own beating heart. The only thing you see is the road ahead of you. The only things you feel are the cold kisses of the sensuous wind. The only thing you taste is the adrenaline that pumps through your veins.

There is something in the air. She binds you in her arms and makes sure you listen to her and only her, feel her and only her, taste her and only her, see her and only her. She takes your hair and plays with it. She demands your full body, but your brain isn’t numbed by sexual desire. The blood is still there – you can still think.

And the mind becomes suddenly clear, unadulterated by grief, greed, or lust.

It’s like attaining nirvana. All of your senses are blocked and you’re left alone to your thoughts. You then finally know what is meaningful to you and what is not. It’s a feeling only a well timed orgasm can ever replicate.

At speeds of 100 kilometers an hour, I finally let go of my haunters and my inner fears. I finally know what I like and what I don’t. A veil is suddenly lifted, and I can see everything much clearly than ever before.

I can’t ride on forever, but I can feel myself changing with every twist of the handle.

And that is why I find solace in speed.