I split in half
And lost one half
I couldn’t find it anywhere
Inspite of painful search across.
I stayed without it forever.

And I walked half
With limps throughout.
I didn’t give in and walked up.
I looked for my half, stayed for and hoped.
I didn’t give up, spite all hard.

And time went by,
My faith was weaken.
But I got stronger and sure all.
I let it go and I stopped waiting.
No search, no hope, nothing at all.

And I am walking
Half and half,
Walking alone with no one near.
But now I know how live in half,
With splitted fate there and here.

I’ve learned to find comfort in the quiet,  
Where my thoughts are my only company,  
And I’m the quiet moments, I wonder
if the comfort of solitude is worth the ache of being unknown

I’ve grown accustomed to the stillness,  
To the certainty that I need no one,  
And no one needs me.  

But sometimes,  
A flicker of something else emerges,  
A longing I can’t quite place or name.  

It comes in brief flashes,  
When I see others laugh together,  
When I hear someone speak my name with genuine care,  

And for a fleeting moment,  
I wonder what it might feel like.  
To be held in the circle of someone’s warmth,  

To be seen not as a passing shadow,  
But as something more.

Yet, just as quickly as it comes,  
I pushed it away.  
Perhaps it’s safer here.  

In the silence I’ve known,  
Where there are no expectations,  
No disappointments,  

Only the steady rhythm of solitude  
That has always been my own.  

Still, sometimes in the quiet of the night,  
I wonder if, somewhere deep inside,  
I am waiting for something  
Or someone  

To break through this stillness,  
And remind me what it means  
To belong.

I walk these streets, silent and still,
Faces pass by, each chasing their will.
No words I offer, no call, no cheer,
In their worlds, they dwell—so far, so near.

Let them wander where their visions lie,
Beneath the same vast Nepali sky.
Dreams of theirs I do not intrude,
For in my quiet, I find my mood.

Am I rude to pass and not engage?
Or just a soul, freeing their stage?
Each moment they craft, I let it unfold,
A mosaic woven in threads untold.

Beneath these hills, in Kathmandu's grace,
I honor their rhythm, their time, their space.
For in this stillness, I see more clear—
A bond unspoken, yet ever near.

Let their paths shine, let them be,
As I journey within, just silently.
Nepali hearts, vast and deep,
In quiet respect, their space I keep.

dined with companions,
who could not care less.
went along for the ride with half a heart,
i confess -
sung a word of praise, or two -
for it’s like a game of chess;
chose my words carefully,
not trying too hard to impress.

i could not keep their company for long -
would not keep lying still - it was wrong;
gave up their lives, in a moment of truth -
raked my soul, all winterlong.  

kissed goodbye to the daylight, i -
gave it up for a different kind of nightlife;
believed - solitude was an inmate,
with a hidden jackknife;
turns out - solitary confinement
is but an oxymoron of life.

Sometimes I love my reflection.  
Other times, he's just a bad friend—fixing his lips like he's about to interrupt me before I get my thought out good.  
When I stop speaking, so does he.  
What do you expect? He's me. ****.  
In truth, the bills are paid, and all current business is handled. But something is missing. It’s obvious. He just looks and shakes his head—my reflection.  
I'd be lying if I said I didn't care.  
I've gotten used to the silence that follows me. It's peaceful.  
When I make it home after a long day, if I touch something, I know where it is.  
If I cook something, I know there's more, even if I don't eat it all.  
He sits back and watches all of this.  
My reflection. Half the time, I pay him no mind. Sometimes, it's better that way.  

But sometimes, I wouldn't mind a bit of noise

Within the void your absence made,
I wandered lost, in shadows stayed.
Yet in the silence, pure and deep,
I found a self I longed to keep.
A hidden flame, a quiet light,
Born from the depths of endless night.
Within the void your absence made,
I found myself, no longer afraid

How nice of you to come visit me,
I wondered who was at the door.
Rarely does anyone come to call,
So please, pardon the dreary decor

Of course, there are cherished memories
That answer to my beck and call;
Some make me smile, while others bring tears --
You may wonder why I keep them all

Well, memories reflect reality --
Long ago, Hope's idle dreams fled;
I haven't seen or heard from them since
(I'm beginning to think they're all dead)

But I'll not go searching for lost dreams,
Nor on their return will I dwell,
For dreams are precarious footpaths
That can lead us to heaven . . . or hell

Fate writes the script for Life's theater,
And assigns our last curtain call;
Foolishly, I thought I was in charge . . .
Now I laugh as I roam Memory's Hall

There are times I draw back the curtains
Just to see what goes on out there;
But your world is no better than mine,
With its endless turmoil and despair

I like to think I've found asylum
In a world so devious and cruel,
Then Fate laughs and scornfully taunts me . . .
It's true, there's no fool like an old fool

But solitude offers safe harbor--
Yes, my flag of surrender's unfurled!
Please, leave if I cause you discomfort ---
But if you stay . . . . .  welcome to my world

In my solitude, I glimpsed a light I could not escape,  
Your laughter danced softly over my shoulder,  
Like the time I said I could never paint—  
And you, with a tender touch,
Held my hand and said,  
"I am the greatest masterpiece you'll ever create."  

I lost my way in your gaze;  
You told me it was I who brought you to life.  

White paint was out of reach, so my canvas stayed untamed.  
Red ran dry, so I bled deep to paint you unstained.  
Your hair brushed in black, a portrait unchained.  
I shaped your hands to mirror mine,  
So when I sought comfort,  
Yours would be the warmth I craved.

But now I search in desperate despair,  
To find the sketch of you in the back of my head.
It was all in my mind—engraved.  
So when I rot and fade away,  
You will remain beyond decay.