heart is tricky like a poem


I am horizontal 
( horizontal like 0245 
horizontal at 0245
horizontal in progression
horizontal sans progress

horizontal like thick wings
horizontal like a metaphorical lyric)

and now, all I need is a right angle 

memorizing duckface, 2017 


seekers of truth



I did proclaim that I'd start writing again, in familiar Instagram fashion, on new year's fussy twirls always performed on the onset of any new year(English in December/January or Nepali in March/April). I like to make resolutions (I shared this with few people recently under Champagne and fireworks smokey haze- half of them laughed and said they did it as kids. I thought they had very little imagination about things children as adults do and done. But yes, I am one of those people whose god has Robin Sharma as munshi. No politically correct makeup these days. Something I discovered in 2017).

 Anyhow, I hadn't expect to be propelled with such force from 2017 to 2018, that deceptive yank, that the projectile was a chilling Discovery Channels documentary; with plot, drama, twist, climax of the natural world. I ended up finding myself in an awkward position looking right back at me. It was unpleasant. One of the worst new year day of my life. Not to mention I had to eat fiske pudding, mamma used to feed me rice puddings on new year days. . .

Intentions materialize faster when the cosmos wants you to catch up, on the race. Or maybe to reward you, with a spoon or two. How gay!


'clinic visit'

I realized this difficult chapter, of coming into triple energy run, of putting to words, of trying to piece together dirt or clearing- could very well be my prince in shiny armour. This space I started spacing into very soon after coming to Norway 59.7 million years ago, will fruit.
I have indeed ignored my happy place, this window of wiring and alphabets.


'costa di caprica'

But in light of entanglements being removed, here I am again; all horizontal, all optimistically new, realistically bruised.


'harmful chemicals'

I love order. I really do. I've realized I am also not in actual order. One needs to do what one loves best, i.e bring order into what one ought to cherish most if needed. In my case it is the self. This waking, meandering consciousness of an excuse called mind which projects this self. Mind assumes responsibility for the heart, my foolish sweetheart!


'chips and apples'

I must say that I do miss writing.  After working for years on my last paper or procrastinating for years to do the former, I had shunned the  activity of typing. But been writing for too long for it to traumatize me severely. Typing still remains the top three favourite activities for self preservation.

A Spanish gentleman said that if you do not raise your eyes you'd think you are the highest point. Bless Antonio Porchia !

Bless 2018, bless time, bless change for always being tangible and present! So ready for you!

no free will



kl.0830: Hello, where was I? I am awake? What is this noise of light? Do alarms have hands that mend nightmares like a handyman? Can I scratch my pussy with my pinkie? Why, look- my hands look lovely. Maybe I turn right and sleep right now? Just a little bit longer..

kl.0900: That was quick. I didn't sleep a wink. Ha. Gym at 10. Is the garden of Eden better today? I hear nothing. Maybe I should see nothing. Stop fidgeting. Just a little bit longer..

kl.1030: All those alarms do nothing. When I say nothing, I mean the weight of 21 ants, the sound of eyelashes clashing when it is windy, the smell of soap when you have cold.. I am so deluded. I set the alarm everyday without fail, to fail. Delusion is mostly over-driven optimism. But optimism, without it- I'd be dead.. just a little bit longer..

kl.1145: Food delivery. Don't brush your teeth, wear a little lipstick and tip. No one notices your foul breath. Keep your distance. I think my nipples were showing. I hate these brief interventions of exterior sounds. Just a little bit longer...

kl.1210: I am not sick. I am lazy. But I am not lazy, I am sick. Nothing is acceptable, while everything is forgiveable. That is why the anatomy of self-love makes the whole system dysfunctional these days.. If you don't get it, you are doing well. Just a little bit longer..

kl.1540: I blink too much when I look at red paintings, I blink too much when I am walking past healthy humans, I blink too much when I eat a carrot, I blink too much when I am thinking about sonnets, I blink too much when I walk down the stairs, I blink too much just most of the blinking time.  Blinking too often makes you appear  untruthful. But in a staring competition, I win without a blink. So when is the best time to lie? I wonder...just a little bit longer.

kl.1830: Had to throw away the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, the leaves were snapping. Forgetting to water plants is not a sin yet (Mother dear would disagree). But destruction of beauty makes it feel like one. This obsession with beauty is basically not an evolutionary prerequisite, just a pseudo-intellectual exaggeration. Weaknesses unnecessary and absurd, just a little bit longer..

kl.2230: I did not move much today. But I moved within. Just a little bit longer...

Pierre et Gilles


monkey business


There is a lot of looking back these days, looking back at the shadows touching toes, and going through creases and folds of memories all too tied up under forgotten luggage. Maybe it is so, because I can't sit still. One can't afford to sit still when being plodded; even in memory because it is poisonous. 


Today on my way home from Blindern, I thought about the monkey business. The monkey, once hated and now embraced. Growing up in Kathmandu, you routinely end up in temples with family where the darn monkeys swing and seize!  Stray dogs and monkeys have always co-existed with Kathmandu basi..Thus,as a Kathmandu basi this monkey business, though now seemingly insignificant or simple, was ghastly once

As a teenage, I'd have send all the monkeys of the world to hell or Mercury (oh so hot & cold). I'd have gladly taped all of them together on a float and let them drift into the ocean, or maybe shoot them into space- never to be heard from again (anger all too bellowed with clich├ęs). I hated monkeys, hated them with a feverish stun gun in the heart. It didn't help that daddy dear enjoyed them so much. I never got how or why he once had a pet monkey. Never understood why he'd go feed those juvenile bastards peanuts or sit next to them, as if he still was one of them. Maybe what baffled me was his complete trust and fondness for those miscreants and why the vile creatures never even hissed at him! 

On one occasion, near Guhjeshwari temple a curiously feisty troop of monkeys came snarling at me. They slowly pulled on my kurta and climbed on me. I remember some tourists even took pictures of the spectacle while the family slightly amused, looked on, telling me to relax and not scream. I remember I had my eyes shut tighter than tight; them paws, so sharp and vindictive! The loathing was instant and then very, very constant. 



But now after all these years & a pinch of introspection, I don't hate them. I do not even wish to get rid of them. I would/do not throw rocks at them or secretly wish for them to evaporate. Besides, those monkeys wouldn't have attached themselves to me if only I had let go of all the trinkets in my clutched hand that they probably wanted. I was told to let it go, but I vaguely remember any specific instructions. In the face of fear, some of us are a wall of dull cement -unmoving, rigid & stupid. 


I wonder why hatred is such an easy route, why it comes so easily when we keep our eyes shut and refuse to relax. empathize or understand? Why do we loathe things we fear, why can't humans let go of the vulgarity of superficial condemnation.. The world could be a better place in its absence. Idealistic glasses might be on right now but really there is a lot of useless hatred floating around in pockets of all humans. 

After the earthquake, Nepal's population seems to have roused worse political vocabularies and ideologies full of pretence. I normally do not rant about what is happening elsewhere except my own head and self. But what is happening there somehow is not far away from  me. All the darn hatred and discord in Nepal, that sprang out from disgruntled politicians in Kathmandu is everywhere now Mechi dekhi Mahakali.... It is infectious, it erodes edges of our potential peace. But then again, we have always been conditioned to ridiculous self/communal sabotage. Without repeated error, all men would be immaculate heroes. But time is ticking and bad feelings seem to be just growing. Darn immaculate heroes, kata ho? 


Anyhow now we should relax, not keep our eyes shut & let go of whatever unnecessary trinkets we are clutching. Or at least, try because in the end you are going to live together. All monkeys must co-exist. 

Monkeys BEHAVE ! 


soul science


As a kid I mostly drew mountains, trees, nepali ‘gauko ghar’, clouds, cows, dogs, fish and birds, just like any other kid. Tendentiously attaching self to simple things that stood detached posing no threat, no threat to understanding of self or life. . A river could swell or dry, all depended on those crayons that didn't slip under the bed or sofa. A red dog for Monday, black cows to play with blue crows for Tuesday, yellow fences for the green house on Wednesdays, green cherry bushes for Thursdays, maybe a pink house for the weekend. Play god, be the prime minister, do some road building, be a gardener... 

The teenager 'I' had no time to draw anything expect caricatures (simulacrum as rebellion). Turned 18 and all hell broke loose (sweet dissipation, natural progression). The world is filled with tactile adventures/ 3D is better than 2D. Sex, drugs and rock-n-roll replace many things for most. Forget playing god, or the prime minister, forget road building, or the gardener..Every passing decade that the spirit survives the charming world of uncertainty and adventures, the magic fluctuates. 

Reduction, selection and complications might be the curses of ageing. No wonder some of us refuse to grow up. 


Now, I find myself increasingly playing, forgetting rules and reinventing the world again drawing houses with hundreds of windows for each of my pet crow, a well in the garden for the fish to live,  trees with the ridiculous swings, and those Tom Sawyer fences that go on for miles and miles till they melt into the mountains. Not just because the internet keeps reminding us what Picasso remarked about the importance of keeping the child alive, not because Capricorns supposedly become more childlike as they age, not because astrology is pointless yet fun like boys, not just because I am often told 'Do not to grow up' and 'Grow up' ( conflicting instructions)..

Because I have got to do it to renew the magic, the impermeable state of sanity needs it. Gotta do it for the magic of escape, for being thrilled while meditative, to become the gardener again and play god who wants a world in hours or days or minutes. 

Without magic, there are no miracles. Right now, there is need for miracles. Otherwise all light will dim and life might cease to be. 


the dust from the dance 
settles, it starts 
to pick up again. 

The lover 
slips away in the night, 
but descends at 

O come, move
me and conceal meanings
elsewhere. Catharsis, 
will you claim us again?



‘Matter in the solid state maintains a fixed volume and shape, with component particles (atoms, molecules or ions) close together and fixed into place. 

Matter in the liquid state maintains a fixed volume, but has a variable shape that adapts to fit its container. Its particles are still close together but move freely. 

Matter in the gaseous state has both variable volume and shape, adapting both to fit its container. Its particles are neither close together nor fixed in place. 

Matter in the plasma state has variable volume and shape, but as well as neutral atoms, it contains a significant number of ions and electrons, both of which can move around freely. Plasma is the most common form of visible matter in the universe.’

'Under extreme conditions, the atoms themselves begin to break down; electrons are stripped from their orbit around the nucleus. The resulting mixture of neutral atoms, free electrons, and charged ions that is plasma has some unique qualities. A plasma is a fluid, like a liquid or gas, but because of the charged particles present in a plasma, it responds to and generates electro-magnetic forces.'

The Laws of science allow matter to change, move, excite and re-create under conditions of varying proportions. We are enslaved by science in macro and micro ways. This excites my soul. 


Miracles are real. I must believe, or else. 

So should you, please do.


so weak, so disappointing

kl.0830: The first alarm sounds like a teacher, who is very kind and somewhat fastidious. I never ignore it. So today, I woke up only to rediscover the fact that I am still not in any good shape to battle with the disobedient eyelids. Snooze alarm had to be set up; I act surprised every time. 

kl.0915: I hate the early-morning I; so weak, so disappointing! 

kl.1230: Trying to gain some weight is not as easy as you might think. I lost so much during Christmas and New years, that now I feel invisible at times. The wind had been particularly strong last week, I felt like a leaf. A leaf is an insignificant amount, while 7 kilograms is a lot of atoms. Lunch was heavy. Long live turkeys! 

kl.1810: Being in gupatabaas is a strange stimulation of the needy-distraction-muscles. 

kl. 2145: The romantic appeal of alcohol-free life is much to do with the dislike for outnumbering human commotion and noises. But it also might have a lot to do with the need for silence on a friday. Living 50 meters away from the new 'hispterlane' doesn't bother the mind. My music is just as loud. I feel so dignified in my lack of alcoholic interests. If my mother knew I'd be like this one day, I don't think 'being grounded' would have been implemented so frequently. But then again, it was hardly ever successful. Rebellion always starts out young and injurious. 

kl. 2330: The more I read that is disguised as studying, the more I rebel. The more I am required to stay away from distractions, the more logic collapses. But discipline is vital. I shall not smoke more pot tonight.  

kl.2355: Breaking primary rules is more exciting than letting go of secondary ones. 

kl.0140: If misspelling other's name is a deadly sin, then what is misspelling your own name? 

kl.0231: [ Not late night, but early morning surfing] Just read the news that a 30 year old psychiatric patient in Lovisenberg sykehus hit an employee with a crowbar, stole the keys and ran away. 'The police are considering the man dangerous'. Is that man really dangerous, or maybe he just have had enough of staying in on a friday? But yeah, I hope someone finds him soon. It is kinda cold out there.  

Hamish Heath


carrots, please

kl.1130: Meet pinchi: an old man struggled to stand or sit properly in the trikk today. Through out the ride I held out my hand and stayed in stand-by position, across the aisle from him, to stop him from falling over during turns and high speed. I felt so sad seeing him commute alone when he looks like he should not. My nose pinched and as usual tears followed. A stranger looked at me. I had to fake a yawn. Haray shiva! 

kl.1800: It used to be 20 feet, now I can't even read what is 6 feet ahead. It is high time I start eating carrots again, or wear glasses.

Kl.2130: These days slowly digging into instagram is fun. The whole joy of it isn't trying to compete with the selfie-whores, but rather relish the candour. There is possibility to create a sense of how people are, how they think and to some extent who they would like to think they are through the pictures posted. Sometimes you know people mislead you. That is exciting, the misleading channels. 

kl.2330: I have started to meditate again; that doesn't make me spiritual though. 

kl,2345: Try not to hate alternatives, they keep you going. Or growing. 

kl.0015: I noticed I am blocked.

kl.0120: Sex is circles and slowly. Familiarity breeds security. But there is fun involved as no one is the same after a little game. 

kl.0215: 'Close your eyes, touch your breast, rub your thighs and say my name'. Is that all? 

kl.0310: I have finally announced the guptabaas. I shall come here to pander though.

Cody VanderKaay


let me punish you

Our emotional consciousness is often clouded by impulse. But we don’t want impulsiveness to take over. Why is that so? 
Because some can dance, while others can’t. 

''...the fooool in my bed still believes every word you say..." 


songs for man


Patience is a virtue; thank cosmos my mother was/is a garden junkie.

[ I am confused,
I do not remember you.


I do not remember the coughs, I only recall buwaji, Sunny, lovers, walls, blankets, all of them and it, concerned over my chest noises.

I do not remember how you called out my name. My name has become foreign due to all these bideshi tongues. How did my name play your lips, I can't recall.

I do not remember kisses, were there any at all? Though so many kisses lived and died, I do not remember loving, most of all. ]

But underneath and undying, you are a seed. Who knows what flowers will bloom?

Patience is a virtue.


Five years is a long time.
While one month,
18 days is a long time too.

Let us live with elastic parameters,
because time, affection,
& longings remain relative.


I am fond of gardens, overalt.

We are cruel sometimes. 


a cake for a cake

there were brick fences and plastic pipes
under the guava trees in our flight.
ladies with songs and kings with clowns
next to the comical backyard marathons.
 in sweaters we found muddy lints
my pleasurable little muffin kin.

soft speeches and puppies in pockets,
tank drawings and television sequence.
under chimneys and star gazing we held
coca cola in wine glass treasons. 
our childhood with fights and cries,
makes glee seem undignified. 

you may have blackmail complaints, 
I may have bigger lawsuits.
but your drawings were better,
while my speeches were glitters.

may you always have love tooth,
gnawing at your wisdom and fortitude.
maybe un-forgetting and never mending 
the fragments of nuisance and superman
flames, my little mouse brother 

you have turned another year again.