Skip to main content

New wipes out New

 You have beautiful dreams for the human kind, and yet, I dream of death. I think of the ends, I think of the spares, the forgotten and the broken. the universe belongs inside the minds and outside it. You have reached but a very small dot of what is to explore.

I see the far edge.

What will happen when you are done explaining everything? Will you go on for more? Or will you come to the realization that exploration is not passion, but the endless and mindless river that has its ups and downs towards a timeless nothingness?

The voids are no more in spaces which you leave unattended, but in memories you keep, unforgotten. The moments, to which you hold so tightly, succumb with the power you have to preserve it. With all the time in the world, you switch off to a far off space where no one recognizes you as the human that once was. All the dead you remember, all the super humans that remain in the periphery of the world you wish to be in, are nothing but strands of unlucky clovers and we, the ants that climb on top of them and make food for the winter.

The world keeps us distracted, away from the face of its own,

The old wiped out by the new, and the new, wiped out by the new.



-Anushruti Adhikari (अनुश्रुति अधिकारी)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Week After The Valentine's I haven't understood love. As we grow up, our perception of love and life differs greatly. Often, we tend to overshadow one with the other, and that is exactly where we make mistakes. Balance. Balance. Balance. It's everything we want. What's worse, is that we are flawless humans, which means we have a chain of imperfections and we constantly need someone to appreciate them. Why, I wonder, can't we do it ourselves? My greatest struggle with self is acceptance. Appreciation. I'm divided. I want to show people that I am divided. Then I want them to love me even more. That's love for me. Valentine's day comes and goes, yet not a single day do you accept yourself. We leave the job of loving ourselves to each other. We praise each other, talk at lengths about each other, find ourselves in each other. Because we chose the other, before ourselves. We tend to sink in the gravity of someone else's affection. It's ou...
You. It's strange how we crave for isolation but disgust our loneliness. Imagine this. How would you feel if you were changing the world but nobody knew? Today, my loneliness could not embrace me. I kept looking for answers, for reasons for why I am how I am. Why I exist. What difference do I make. I make no difference. I want no one to help me. My own isolation guides me. I find little, sometimes no pleasure in blending with people. What do I do then? I work. I work some more. When I'm done, who's going to be the one to see what I've done? The people of course. The people I forgot about. We all do this. If you don't, you're one step ahead of me. If you do, you're still ahead of me, that is,if you haven’t lost your mind questioning your existence like I did. How often have you not been able to explain your sorrow? The truth is, you can. You actually know the reason why you are in such a pain. Your life is purely doubtful. Your existence...

Squiggles and Scribbles of Sashi

Sashi woke up today, annoyed and at 4 a.m. Her thinning blanket somehow turned over and her oiled-up feet were exposed to the ruthless chills of Magh. She angrily switched on the light, as if to scold the walls and windows of her room for the restless night.  Her belongings in the one-person rental flat are quite minimal, although symmetrically pleasing, like something straight out of a Wes Anderson movie, only, without the colours. Her clothes, from her mother's sarees to her work uniform had to put up a fight with her undiagnosed O.C.D; even the softest of the fabric was disciplined into a neat pile.  Her bathroom had nothing more than a single soap, dry on one side and slimy on the other. Her toothbrush, however, looked more worried, for the woman brushed ferociously, disappointed at her slightly yellow teeth which were now accompanied by often bleeding gums.  Her kitchen was completely empty, as she had decided not to eat in her room. The ventilation in the tiny flat ...