Caged but free.

  A couple weeks ago when the weather was not this hot we, my family and I had the opportunity to visit Jamunkhadi Simsar; a community’s effort towards forest area and wetland conservation at the same time also uplifting the community economically.

On the way

Reached

Suspension or hanging bridge

Deer area .

deer area.

Jamunkhadi-Jhapa Ariel Drone footage

There were many animals some were relatively more free than others in terms of area they could move around freely in but they were all caged. it cannot be denied we had a nice time there. On the way back, however, I kept remembering lines from the poem;

“Caged Bird”
~Maya Angelou~

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

on and off topic

More often than not I have a concrete outlook of what I want, armed with the rough draft in my notebook that I wrote before I sit in front of my laptop to type. The rough draft makes sure I don’t stray from my idea just work to make it better with every word I add or subtract. However for a couple of weeks, I get up with an aim to write but all I end up doing is staring at my open notebook and empty, blank screen of my laptop.

Which I have come to know is very harmful to the personal well-being and for the thing called pride. Going off topic, a very important person of my life told me and I agree fully that pride is a positive emotion whereas jealousy and vanity are negatives and for sure should always be kept far. Doing nothing is bad but being made aware every second by the blank word document is worse. A point comes when despite doing everything to get motivated you can’t seem to do the task you should be doing for your own self. When I feel disheartened I begin to question my ability which is not a good sign because I would be sadder and the cycle will continue on and on. I have a list of topics I would like to write on however words have failed me recently.
Again off topic, I have a small room 11*6 feet when I am uncertain or disturbed, with music playing; I

1. reorganize my room
2. reorganize my almari (wardrobe )
3. refashion my clothes
4. make art and crafts.

I just need to do one of the above like by reorganizing my room I somehow reorganize my haphazard thoughts. What do you do to help the mental or emotional aspect of yourself??? Just doing one of the above has always been enough to stabilize and push my thoughts back on track and break through the wall of procrastination but not this time everything is done yet I can’t seem to perform my day the way I want sometimes I just think I am lazy then again I quickly dismiss that stupid negative thought.
Writing is very important for me I cannot emphasize on this point enough. It is not just as a way of self-expression for me but my identity, a source of pride and happiness for my family after I became disabled my life took a completely different path and writing for me became that shining pearl in the setting sun, one was never enough.
Again going off topic but does this writing have any topic, thank you for reading this nonsense as I thought just now to dump all my all my clothes from my almari and rearrange it again.. maybe I’ll invent a new me.

People with disability, are not props for our “philanthropic posts’’

 

When I became “disabled” due to an illness after proper 20yrs of living a life of privilege ability my life and not just my life alone but the life of my family changed too. While I am on the very difficult path of self-acceptance, my father is not okay neither do I think he will ever be after his daughter’s life took a complete 360°turn.

In the early years of my disability I decided to volunteer in an organization that houses people like me, the only organization here that takes care of their needs and provides training and education but the stark difference is that they are worse than me physically, mentally, emotionally and economically; this being the only life they have known.

Charmer of Words

 The one beauty of writing is rather than painting a full picture with words and telling a tale it lets the Reader imagine. There is always room to add and subtract for now the reins of interpretation is no longer remain in the hands of the author.

  With each new reader it becomes more than a beautiful  just a combination of words or just another story the author intends to tell but with each reader it takes a different form, it tells a new story; story said not just by the words but by the emotion of the unwritten words which just suggests their presence.

 Maybe that’s why written words never grow’s old; it only begins to tell a new story.

of promise and posts

When I began writing here I promised myself I will write and post once every week but the past couple of months I haven’t upheld my own word. I wouldn’t be telling a lie if the reason asked for the late post would be one of the following. 

• There were guests in my house so I pretty busy. 
• I had to get a lot of documentation ready so it was Search, search and more search.

(A person can have happy delusion…right)

The Hiprocacy of judgement

“But you don’t look disabled.”

Both baba and I stared with an apparent look of surprise, disbelief, and sadness at him I was shocked with loss of words and baba was quiet too. Some people think saying nothing is a sign of approval, he did the mistake too as he launched into the topic of “well-meaning” advice as I controlled my angry tears from falling.

i belive but do you?

 

I believe in Fairy-tales, on fairies, on magic on monsters………………….

I am naive you may think, not accepting reality. I think so too! how dare I believe in something totally spun out of imagination. They for sure are children stories and I am an adult, how ridiculous would it be if a twenty-year-old told you they still believe in Santa wholeheartedly despite knowing the truth since he was 3 yrs old.

imaginary “real” friends

 

When I held it in hands I could not believe it nor could the fuzzy, funny feeling in the pit of the stomach stop and as I opened it a familiar air engulfed me …a feeling of warmth tugged my heart in this brutal winter air. Long-lost friends met again, going together on an old route of laughter.

Thankyou!

 Oh! I have dreamt scenarios where I was on stage receiving an award giving a long emotional speech ending with a thunderous applaud.

gender perspictive on development-a thought

Simone Lucie Ernestine Marie Bertrand de Beauvoir a French writer, intellectual, existentialist philosopher, political activist, feminist and social theorist. She wrote in her book “ The second sex”  “….one is not born rather becomes a woman …it  is the civilization as a whole that produces this creature intermediate between male and eunuch, which is described as feminine “

Birds of flood

During the floods that hit parts of Nepal recently caused by the heavy rainfall a pair of new birds visited my home.They built their nest on one of the Beatle tree’s of my home, a clear view from my window.

all about me

 

That’s Dorian Grey?  It’s the 100th time now, said my friend with very apparent exaggeration and a genuine look of disgust. This, however, was a ruse to recommend me the latest book she was reading, a love story, “Me before you” by Jojo Moyes. I don’t mind rereading and genres don’t concern me. Hence I thought I’d give it a chance but I don’t trust her taste therefore when it wasn’t available for free on the world wide web and with talks going on for turning it into a movie I skipped buying it telling her I’ll watch the movie and telling myself I’ll hold on to my money for now.

That was in 2013 and I had forgotten all about it until one fine day in 2017 the internet informed me of the movie and I watched it.

i am you – a page from my journal

Please stop looking at me like that your gaze stab and bleed me, it hurts so bad but I know I can’t put my thoughts into words or explain anything to you before I get all rallied up in emotions, you that can understand it all but don’t want to; you that are the society of which I am a part too.

I understand you are sad to see me in such a sorry state but are you “sad”? Isn’t it acceptable anymore for a person to fall sick; being vulnerable is what a human is I am a human seems you are don’t know or accept the sad part of reality; makes me question are you really that delusional.

weaving imagination

Poetry brings within its compass everything nature, weather, beasts, beauties, and every realm of imagination. Though not everyone is a Shakespeare or a Milton, I believe, everyone has a poetic mind, a penchant for rhyme and rhythm – it’s only a matter of time before it manifests in one form or the other.

Poets are the architects of beauty and melody, expressed so eloquently through their beautiful verses. A poet weaves magic and makes the world gaze and wonder. Poets have been deemed eccentric and escapists. However, the likes of William Butler Yeats, John Milton and William Shakespeare and every poet have proven that no one can portray as vivid a picture of life as they can.

starry slice of heaven

The wind whispered sweetly into my ears as if to remind me of the drunken lull of darkness. Hark! I did. I always do. Give in to nature. Find it incomprehensible that most people do not take some time out for themselves.

For there is nothing like gazing up at the boundless sky, engulfed by a star-studded blanket; when the moon lets down her veil, revealing the beauty that can make any girl green with envy

a lesson from Hibiscus

White Hibiscus

 

Red Hibiscus

What do I call it? red or pale yellow Hibiscus

Pink Hibiscus

 Same family, so many colors yet they are all the same, these are from my garden. Did not take a lot of work to see such pretty flowers, just a few branches to plant.You think it will die after all it has no roots just a branch stuck in soil and it does begin to wither but that is just the beginning of a new plant a rebirth you may call it and now defying death the flowers are blooming. 

more about Hibiscus

Dignified & Correct terminologies- words are powerful

Words have an immense power they can easily make or break a person. A word is very powerful and we often underestimate its power.
Of late I have been reading a lot of blogs describing people with disability as “differently able” which angers me a lot because I want to be referred to as person first not different because I have a disability. This is my opinion and opinions are not facts that can’t be proved wrong.