A boy's journey through words and the mixtapes. I write every Thursday.
He who would be a man must therefore be a nonconformist.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
You’ve hung around range of creative lines for such a long period of time.
Are claps, whistles important?
Are eye balls, flying kisses, recognition more important?
Are likes, loves, social validations, fandom important at all?
Or.
Is
curiosity?
consistency?
And joy of creation, important?
Is — what you’ve lived, learned, enjoyed, curated and humbly launched, more important?
Comments closedAs I grew older this picture started to fade. My exuberance was replaced with timidness, my leadership with conformity, my boldness with fear….
Lauren Weinstein – TEDxPaloAlto
The first time I ever got close to winning or acing at anything in my life was — an Intra School Essay Competition when I was studying at my high school,12th grade.
On the day of the contest, I also had to attend a serious cricket match between the two rivalry team (NrEST Cricket Club vs Passa Cricket Club) in our district.
I started as an opening batsman chasing for the score on the board, and gracefully, to my standard played a wonderful cricket there. I left the match as soon as I was taken out of the wicket and rushed to attend an impending essay competition. It’s still fresh in my mind how I ran off the field that day.
I had reached the venue a bit late. And, all I saw, were serious, … serious spectacle-guys and girls (meant no disrespect) individually seated on their respective tables — already writing!
As far as I can tell — in my head at that instant, I was relieved to see, for good one day that neither I was wearing my uniform, while few of them did but many none had their college uniforms on. I was like, this is cool! And, the only reason I can think of as to why I was attending that holy event after having depleted all my battery on the match was only and only because a friend had requested my participation. I had no fucking business there, no hopes of wining at all … at all.
So, I was given this blank piece of paper (as soon as I entered the hall), along with a pen and was quietly and quickly ushered towards my designated seat.
We were to write an 800 words essay on problems cum issues of our country on energy crisis.
[What the fat fuck do I know about our country, specially for a boy who’s spent most of his life, at barely a kilometer radius far from his home. ]
But anyways, I was determined to write about my fucking ‘load-shedding’ problem in our house.
Now, this is the funniest part: I was extremely thirsty, and sure, was sweating as pig, but without-a-shame and politely, requested for a glass of water. After few minutes, one of the good samaritan guy bought me one with his kind smile and confused eyes as he sneak-peeked into my neat, white papers. I haven’t written shits!
[haha]
This one alone; This epic scent of sweet reminiscence alone still brings me joy till the date. God!
And my holy, frecking god;- all I did .. all i did, in those entire 3 hours long period of the contest was drank that same served glass of water, pretending it’s a fucking whisky, and for real, and wrote the entire things which I didn’t even care to proof read for once.
Meaning, till this day, I still don’t know what i wrote!
[haha]
Now, I wasn’t the first one to submit my papers but most certainly I did.
That’s how.
That.is.how I got my first small, fancy trophy for my debut intellectual indulgence.
See this.
Oh! By the way, we won the match too.
Well, I’m that same Bijay Shrestha, somewhere, somehow!
Accept your quirks.
Accept your weirdness.
And, in the language of my favorite actor, Mr. Benedict Cumberbatch, ‘make your uncool, cool!
Comments closed“We are not nouns, we are verbs. I am not a thing – an actor, a writer – I am a person who does things – I write, I act – and I never know what I’m going to do next. I think you can be imprisoned if you think of yourself as a noun.”
Stephen Fry
To an aspiring writer, there’s nothing more perplexing & paralyzing than an empty page and blinking cursor.
Dull. White. Asking for attention! Freezing. Powerful!
Brain vomit is inevitable.
Without-a-doubt, I’ve been in this avenue so many times. In the word of one of my mentor, the author of one of my most favorite book — The War of Art, Mr. Steven Pressfield; He calls it Resistance.
He also adds that the thing you ought to be doing when you have ‘resistance’ is just show up and do the work. Begin!
Charlie Munger best described it as ‘assiduity’. Read this interesting article.
This might surprise you to know that even as i write this, writing — scares the shit out of me. Well, scary, numbing, because I care.
It might surprise you even more as I now openly confront to the fact that the first time I ever used The F – bomb was only on mid of twenty seventeen. Trust me it was fudging scary! Plus, let me tell you, I’m deeply aware when I drop one in any of my writing. Without resistance. Without hesitation.
Because.
I chose, organic to plastic. Authentic to conforming. Un-filtered to fabricated. Deliberate to careless. Imperfect to sugary. Substance to substitute.
Oh, writing is difficult.
Today, I wanted to write about infidelity. I wanted to pen on the must virtues of a true man in love. I also wanted to write about this. I wanted to write about my Work From Home experience.
Perhaps some other day.
Lastly, as my twitter handle @8ijayshrestha suggests — Verb.
An aspiring writer, it is.
Food for thought.
As a bonus, I want to give away one last thing which I’m sure, you won’t regret.
Please take your time to read this short snippet from Mr. Austin Kleon.
Duly fathom!
Comments closed“The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today… The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately.”
Seneca
This is a COVID-19 map from Johns Hopkins, Univeristy of Medicine . And THIS my friend — tells a lot about us!
Sure, nobody saw it coming. And most certainly, we did not want any of this lockdown shit, at least not for causes as grave as this… at all.
But, there’s an important lesson for all of us to mull over. For all of the remaining un-deads; Un-affected-s … for those far fetched from the claws of malignancy and heartbreaks and despair and hell.
That not now but someday sooner-or-later, we will all die as some of us will turn to ashes and some, food for worms.
So.
Duly, contemplify.
Love. Grace. Appreciate.
Be happy that you and your loved ones are fucking breathing.
[ Don’t know about you but I’ve to remind myself of this so many times in any ordinary day! ]
It’s Day 3 since Nepal Government imposed a nation-wide lockdown to contain coronavirus spread in the country.
Commendable caution there.
It’s also Day 3 that I’ve been working from home.
Working more insane hours than ever.
Fuck!
And just yesterday, I’ve had a ridiculous meltdown towards the end of the work day.
Undisputed culprit: work burnout!
However, few good things happened too within this lockdown timeline from March 24th, 2020 to today.
My best friend, Manish Rajbhandari finally became a father of a very beautiful daughter . He’d describe his fatherhood experience (in his words) ‘I don’t think I have cried that much in long long time. It was very very hard to see her go through that yaar‘. Such a pure, elemental form of love there, I reckon.
Blessed, again!
Plus, a five-star care by my two wonderful parents. For instance, here’re my mom’s heart warming messages since March of 24, 2020 (i.e., Day1)
In toto; This post my friend is a call to — self-reflect at times & learn to be Grateful, amid shits life non-discriminatorily throws at us. Period!
Comments closedYou will realize at some point in time that the most awful fucks anyone can give it to you is but yourself. In other words, in real life, no body will give you more real fucks to you than you yourself will.
Painful.
but Beautiful.
I recall, perhaps the only and the most depressing phase of life was during my high school days.
+2
Family was struggling through finances. Didn’t like the school I enrolled in. Didn’t have any friends. Didn’t find one. Didn’t feel like making one! No goals. No role models. Instead, there were no shortages of bullies. Those dumb f-#ers. I remember, they’d call me names, make fun of me in-front of the entire class, which in all sincerity had me feel like a loser — with added seasoning of an absolute disgrace over my life.
At the same time, I had a crush on a girl who wouldn’t give a flying fuck. [Haha..]. Can’t blame her. Plus, was trying to make sense of life and all the bullshits that i had to endure day-in and day-out with no sign of help from anywhere or anyone else. Was teaching bunch of raw slates, less, because i wanted to but more just so that I can pay for my tuition.
What a fuckingly fuck of a messy those times were when-in I had totally forgotten to feel happy or worst — even to put up a smiling face. [Haha..] All credits to my low self-esteem and persistently anal-ized self-confidence.
Fu>k!
Despite, it was at that point in time, I’d found refuge in books. Be it exercise books or the ones from self-help fraternity.
It was then, I’d embraced my own flavor of introverted-ness.
It was then I paid attention to the people I wouldn’t want to waste a fuck for.
It was around that time Musicpervs was born.
More or so, It was because of my ‘solitude‘ friend, I had figured out that self-growth is the only way forward and that I’m the only person responsible for my shits!
Heavy shit ae’.
And, that’s why these calendar habits still runs in my blood, through and through. Painful. But Beautiful!
(And, just so if you’re curious, Jerry Seinfeld is our guy who made this shit nuclear.)
Lastly, around these same waters, I’d like to leave you with some of the wildly sexy and utterly powerful insights which I’ve enjoyed a-fucking-lot, from few of my dead friends :-
Heartfelt thanks for your time!
Comments closedMusicpervs has always been a low key work specially dedicated to only few people I love. Bishow Shrestha (bishow_writes) is the one among.
Comments closed