Pratik Mainali

Pratik is a high school graduate from Trinity International College, Dilli Bazaar, Kathmandu.

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Published On: April 12, 2019 11:00 AM NPT By: Pratik Mainali



I have been deeply distressed, moody, and restless for the past few months. My life, which once was the hive of activity, with hum of vibrant people stirring up the spirits of soft youth, is now soundless and still, under the brooding clouds of sullen gloom. All I can do now is wince and anticipate splintering lightning and shattering thunder, shudder at the thought of rain rattling at the windows. The shears of time have sapped my spirits, and lowered my morale. I now go around clasping my hands back, kicking stone along the lonely fields, as sickening thoughts wrestle in my gloomy heart.

It was not always so. I once was the life and soul of every gathering I shimmered into. ‘The noble offspring of nature’- they called me. I was a man of boundless benevolence, with waves of kindness flowing from his lips. I was the hand that cradled the rock. If the dear reader feels like I'm injecting the poison of bitterness into their sensitive and impressionable nerves, they are free to stop winding along the brims of words and waft away. If not, keep reading on. Now without further ado, let me marshal my thoughts. It all started a few months ago. A powerful excitement began to churn on the pit of my belly. Wreathes of wicked adoration coiled around me, tightening its grip, and hurting my joints with an intense pleasurable pain. A rage to live rose inside me. I treaded in untried-den shores in the search for the contingencies of forbidden mysteries. Finally, with the inevitable course of time, I plunged into the sticky soup of misery.

I admit this without a touch of shame. In the bounds of freakish youth, assailed by flaring desires, and racked by sizzling delusions, I steered my life to the brink of ruin. Being of an unstable as a water sort of disposition, who lets the currents of his wills be altered by the slightest air of passion, I am bound to wreck myself. Being under a tremendous weight of responsibility, I flitted away in a fluttering sojourn. During this brief sojourn, I stumbled across a member of the gentler sex whose mere presence did unspeakable things to me.

In the sizzling heat of an untrodden land, I was treading on when my paths crossed with the wicked angel. The mere sight of her bewitched me. I stood there, frozen, with breathe stuck in my throat. With every last ounce of my blood, I endeavored to establish communication with the slender angel, with satisfactory outcome. After this she joined my life like a river. We ambled together in loving closeness. She was ripened by the heating dew of her youth. I fulfilled her starving of physical love, and lighted her life with jauntiness and jolliness. I felt a strong silent passion growing inside me. We were practically inseparable.

Then abruptly the still air of delightful intimacy was shattered by the shards of wanton cruelty. My knees felt weak, and heart wrung in woe and to my horror, dismay and despair, I found myself alone in aching void. I felt like the man who in the delusion of youth threw himself carelessly on the brink and the next moment found himself dwindling down with gathering speed into the rivers of despair. I fell down with a splintering crash and have been reeling ever since. Now that I've taken to the trip through the mists of miserable time, I ask you dear reader- How cruel is the world for frivolous and fluffy minded youth like me? Being a man of gentle benevolence, I'll answer it for you. It’s very cruel. Very intolerably, unbearably cruel. However, I am only to blame myself for building castles in the air.


Me, Way_of_life, Behavior,

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