Chapter 1
Feelings
Shrouded by temples, in the starry night, one could see the beauty of the festival of light. It’s the time of the year when people honor the God of Death & worship the Goddess of wealth. The city of temples; Kathmandu is somewhat quiet.
In the distance, one could see a man walking down the alleys of Kathmandu. The man could be seen wearing a hoodie and carrying a backpack.
The man; or rather the boy had baggy eyes, possibly because of lack of sleep. The looks of the man were somewhat above average, but with small hair, he looked hideous.
The boy walked through the hollow temples, where no sign of people existing can be seen. He sits down there takes out a copy from his backpack.
“It’s so astonishing, to see Kathmandu with no people”, he said as if he felt peace, as if he were in his home.
The boy takes out a pen and starts to admire the isolation of Kathmandu.
“So, you're exactly like me today, no energy and left out”, he says in a soothing voice almost reflecting his sorrow.
“For you, I’ll write a poem as you would never make fun of it”, he whispers while grieving in euphoria.
He starts to write in the book, while just there sitting where no soul can be seen travelling.
The time passed fast, and there can be seen numerous papers torn and thrown around. The sky is yellowish, indicating the sun is about to set as he finally completes his short poem.
“The meadows of grief find more solace
The pointed lights gleamed, with a promise
Promise– To erase the darkness
By the people; who are heartless
Leaving us behind in this abyssal hell
Departing us here; with no words left to tell the tale”
Nelo looked into his poem in disappointment as he said, “Well, it’s not like I have anyone that can leave me behind.”
Nelo looks at the sky, where he sees the gleaming stars, so crystalline that he gets a poignant reminder of how he’ll never experience love.
“Well, so it's the same for you Kathmandu, you don’t have anyone that can leave you behind.”, Nelo tries to awkwardly laugh it off to forget the vivid image of the sorrow he had just imagined.
While the whole country had been lit up by the festival of light, due to fewer residents in Kathmandu, the lights were dim as they left the city to meet with their loved ones. Kathmandu’s darkness could be seen as pitch black with a sprinkle of hope from the space.
Kathmandu never experienced love as well.
It was just there for people to be used by.