By The bus was traveling in a common route to the capital city. The capital of the country matters to most. Many kinds of industries function from the capital. The film industry, the publishing industry, also the education industry. The flight of labor is also one of the industries which take manpower from here and sales them abroad. The business of toil has completely been a legal matter. It feeds kids here, sends them off to school, runs a house and the wives can proudly flaunt their jewelries in their parties. The perfect world gets mirrored here in the age of plastic attachments. Relationships that corrode inside the crimson walls of the city’s happiness are never scripted and popularized. Home or away for people; every city has its own stories. The relationships in the country breathe in the foreign air and cross the real flights of agony with a heavy heart—I mean the journey of a real flight on a plane which bears the agony of leaving the beloved in the home country. Pain in the mirror is not real, but fiction is. Fiction in its essence establishes many notions which can be applied to real-life equations. It is a draft of long-distance findings, figurable and touched in proximity to behavior expressed in the paper which may be unique and unanticipated. Only a revealing quality can share the feelings. Only expression is the gateway to new ideas of the mind. We have many stories that remain untold and unwritten due to fear of unacceptance.
So, the bus has started and I am amused with these thoughts in my mind. I won’t say I am preoccupied with these ideas. I am on an easy roll and I watch the wheels go round. A habitual truth speaker might think low but is never out of content. He won’t entice you and arrest you with his words, he is as free as a breathable air even when he is with you during the conversation.
Even social media is a new industry now as the film industry. We can call it the social media industry. There are many actors in this social media industry. Every person using social media is a social media industry actor. The industry was down for some time technically this week and it immediately gained attention. I am not living in the capital although I can observe the day-to-day events of many successful social media actors from the capital city in the social media industry. They are more than social media industry actors; they are not mannequins clothed like a human but real-life character although their presence is only on the screen for me till now. In social media, they have supported me with my writings. On a positive note, this is the need of time, how everyone needs social media and capital adherence with cities. Be it the place, power, or connectivity. I can write about the capital city from here, I wonder what I could have written about this place (my hometown Biratnagar) from the capital city (Kathmandu).
It is night now and the bus has stopped for dinner in a local eatery. I am writing my diary regularly. I do not write for fame, tonight it seems I will write to get a good sleep. I have never written for fame, and writing comes spontaneously and I have to say that I do not have a reason to write. I am drawn to it and poetry. I feel if I only write prose I will lose that essence of literal words and brevity with a quality of alleviation which verses contain. I am writing this diary entry and this is a blend of fiction and reality. If you feel like I am lying think that is the fictional part. “Fiction is a lie that speaks the truth” is a famous saying which fits this situation. This bus journey is a lie but the vehicle which these words harbor and move is the reality. Language is an art and the essence of it is a day-to-day struggle to not drown in the sea of art but make meanings that calm the low-spirited.
Suburbs and outskirts of a city have always been my kind of thing. I can lie back and observe the whole world. The main city and the market are always at my reach. My city is under rapid urbanization. Its face has drastically changed. There is a world that breathes here. Nothing is too separated. I feel this city has everything for everyone. There are bars, shining colorful lights, the laughter of youths, college goers’ sentiments of education, and verbal expectations in the streets when they return from their long lectures in the late afternoon. The rich sweat trickling in the gymnasium, dreams crushed for someone living in the streets although he is bold in the physique. I have not seen people living in the streets in my city. Maybe I have traveled less at night. I do not know which face the city hides in the streets at night.
Written by Sushant Thapa
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