Thursday, March 5, 2015

Boxes by Sony Shrestha

‘Life’, it is such a small word to utter out of this tiny mouth. The fight between the teeth and tongue gives a start to this word. The on looking lips also try to prove their ability and thus gives off the incomplete F bomb. Does the word life mean like it is made?

I am not a philosopher nor am I a ‘someone’ whom people would seek for suggestions if they have problems in life. I am not someone to give some precise ideas on what to do next to save yourself.

I am just me, a person, a silent soul inside this violent body, still desperately trying to understand the meaning of life. Actually meaning will be a meager term, let's say ‘truth’.

I will introduce myself as a small kid, who is still trying to figure out what she is exactly doing. Yes, I am not such small kid too. But I feel like it. And I can give hundreds of proofs to that.
Actually worrying about the life is not what I am here for, or maybe, it is the main thing to do as long as I am here on this earth. I am no God. So, I don't know the truth about anything……

Sometimes I feel like I am a stranger for myself and it is weird. It is weird how I wake up every morning and look at my face in the mirror realizing I reside in this amazing body. It is weird how I get so inspired by someone in the movie and it is weird how I realize I am nothing in front of them. It is weird how I forget how better or worse I am and I resort to paintings or music in a meantime.

I live, being so many things in a day. I am a rock star in my imagination while playing my brother's guitar in secret. I become a beauty, when I try my every makeup on my box, though I don’t have much of them. I sometimes bury my soul inside a random track and try to ignore the chatters around me. Yes, I am not myself sometimes.

I have heard a sentence somewhere, "life is not inside the four walls of a house, life is out there in the world and travelling is how you learn what life is"

I would say, “I don’t know how much truth this line speaks.” Fortunately or unfortunately, I am an introvert and living inside the four corners that has been my life since 22 years. Yes, these corners know me better than anyone, maybe more than myself. I have laughed and cried and slept and smiled inside these four walls. I don’t know I enjoy it or not, maybe I do. Living outside with the people has made me lose my temper so many times. Living outside my favorite den had made me feel like I don’t exist. I try to see this world, but I don’t see the beauty everywhere.  I see myself vanishing amidst the crowd, like a dust and getting blown away into the vacuum.

People often say to me, “You are shy and invisible because you never go out and see the life.” Yes, I never go out, but please I still do have a life, a life of Silence. At least I don’t have to burst into tears of emotions every time I get ignored by people; my four walls are always protecting me from unnecessary emotions. I don’t have to talk with people; some people just piss me off and make me feel like I am so bad. No, I don’t always want that feeling. I don’t know who I am, but am I a coward to live inside a box? They say, living inside a box would give you nothing, but I have earned so many feelings here. It is slower, living inside a confined space makes you grow slow. People out there learn fast and easy---Inside the box it is slow, it feels like learning something would take an eternity, but it’s not being dead. You just learn different things.

Anyone will think that I am a psycho, writing about life, who even hasn’t seen a fraction about the world, yes, I feel the same. How can our thoughts match when you live outside the box and know so much and when I am confined inside four walls and know nothing? I feel like it's all illusion how you take everything. Life is a mere perception.

The small screen of my PC, and my TV screen are my windows to the world. And the times when the load shedding torture of my country beats me down, I read the walls, about the history, about what happened in today's class, and about what happened the day when I got hurt by people who even don’t remember me. Living inside the box has given me the memories that I don’t really want to remember and the memories I may forget. Reading the walls in my room has been a hobby of mine. I read the same walls trying to create something new every time while I sit near my drafting table. Being an architect student I know that you will never go far if you don't see the architecture around the world but being inside these amazing walls, I have flown to the places I have never been creating new things from something I have heard from my teachers and from the memories of the videos and pictures I browsed in my laptop. Yes, living like this is a totally different experience compared to others and I feel the difference so deeply.

There are the times, when I actually enjoy being out of my house, the box I live in, when I get to forget it. I love it so much and yet I think of leaving it forever. But I am just a small kid living in an adult body. I am too much dependent over my own feelings and I am governed by my own feelings. My box has been my guard and a lover, and this box is all that I have created out of my life be it from my designs or in the real life. Architecture, it is not so simple word they say, I won't judge if it is simple or not. It is just another form of life, and I feel there are fractions of ‘life’ in the word ‘life’. Yes, I know nothing about life, but I know something, about this box. This box is not a prison, and it is also not a freedom. It is just another fraction of life.

The nature is home of the living organisms and the home of people too. And we create our own boxes out of the nature, we always live in the box, I live in the box like you but I hate the boxes around me sometimes. I love the nature around me, and sometimes think of designing something that needs no home but only nature. But it is not actually my type, is it? The people don’t love the idea of getting back to nature. The people make new boxes and leave it and explore new nature around, explore new life and again make another box there. People create boxes and call it architecture.

I don’t remember when I began to love the nature, but I remember myself loving my box. I remember the time when I peeked outside of my box to see the green field at the behind my house. I felt the gentle wind flowing and gently striking against each paddy plant and then transferring that heavenly smell to my box. God, how much I loved it! And I thought that I will one day buy all these fields and let those paddy fields remain wild, just as it is, for I knew someone out there will one day add another box in that place. It gave me shivers and sadness to imagine that place being covered by the piece of natural things modified to be artificial. Years passed and there are no paddy fields no more. The sunlight still enters to my box, for the fields don’t have tall staggering boxes on them, but it has a banquet and a small cottage factory and a parking area. I am just happy how there are no boxes, a box like mine. I want my box to be alone in the nature. Yes I love my box so much, my box too stands on some paddy field, call me selfish, but I want my box to be alone in the lap of the nature.

There is a line in architecture, build in scrap and look into nature. Yes, I want to see that nature free from boxes like mine, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love my box, I love it more maybe, that’s why I can never leave it, and I love the nature and thus I want my box in the nature and me inside my box.

My box has given me so much to remember, my loneliness, my happiness, love, hate, betrayal, honesty and above all that it has made me feel myself. It has always reflected me. If I am to know the truth of the world today, I would really love to know I, but I am also afraid because it’s scary, the idea of what would I do with that truth. I am not some philosopher, I am not some lover of mankind, I am myself, and being myself is the only virtue I see in myself, though I am not myself sometimes. Because I live with fearful intrusive thoughts and the obsessions and compulsions has made me stranger to myself sometimes.

Being you most of the times makes things easier. But sometimes, you don’t know who u are, what are you actually doing. Yes, it’s really confusing, and living in a box has given me the solution. In the outside world, people live in so many colors, the world is much colorful outside, and I feel myself being blown away there, I have no identity outside. All the people do outside is copy. People copy their ideal people and feel proud to say that they are her, or him. No, I don’t really like that idea. I don’t like the people I like. I don’t like them because I don’t want to copy them. I love the people whom I can never copy, who are bad in the eyes of other people. I see the freedom in them and I find myself inside of them. Yes, my box has taught me this. And I know it is not even a fraction of the vast word, ‘life’.

I really don’t like how my feelings change. In my box, I have been sad because of not being able to see the world. And in the same time, my feelings change and I am happy being just like the way I am. I laugh like a mad girl who got a beautiful dress in her birthday party, discovering this new ecstasy of feeling about myself. Yes, I become happy because of it, but at the same time I become sad for my feelings are never stable. And it is one of the many things that piss me off. My box had seen me being like this, felt me like this, and in a meantime given me a lesson that not everything is constant, even in your small box. Yes, it is small, but your feelings are grand in there and the grander things also change. I am sad for a moment, but in an instant people see me laughing my heart out and joking around. Yes, I change, and that really is something I never understood.

Why should I love my box Just because it has given me so many things? But I hate it sometimes. It has been so close to me most of the time, I hate it for I can't live without it and I hate it for I love it so much that I can't hate it. I love it, my friends call me over to meet and go watch a movie. I don’t feel like going out with them not because I don’t like hanging out with them. But I am a type of person who gets wild if I enjoy too much and I kinda like my wild outgoing type. But I just can't go with that wild feeling. It’s like I am bound to live inside my box, and I hate my box at the very same time and kiss it even more out of love, because I can't hate it. I just can’t hate it.

My cousins and friends would always talk about going to places and eating and spending time in new places and restaurants with their other friends. I sometimes envy them for I am never like them. I am too embarrassed to be me out in the world, I feel like a dust invisible and indifferent but still hovering in the air. I am an introvert who acts like an extrovert describing to the world about itself. I don’t know if the most of the words I speak are true. But yes, I sure do know one thing, and that feeling oneself inside oneself is the greater ecstasy I have felt inside my life, and truly speaking I never felt it out in this amazing world. But my box of love and pain, reflects myself back to me. And therefore I love it.


My description of life is short. And it is finding a happy version of myself and exploring myself.