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@bhushita

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the most important virtues for the young woman are as follows: time theft, selfishness, orgasms, irreverence to authority, sacrilegious behavior, a questioning mind, and eating regular meals.
Ten years ago I was as delulu as it gets. I cannot say it has gotten much better since. Yes, not knowing is still the most intimate. DonтАЩt be too known. DonтАЩt know me too well. Let there be this intimacy the ferns and moss share with a tree that sees them not with not two, not three, not thousand eyes.
Not knowing is the most intimate.
тАФOsho

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Hiii bhushita Didi, I'm samiksha (Sam) and I hope you remember that we met yesterday. First things first, I really love youuu a lottt. You're such a beautiful soul. Shall we start with your melodious voice, hearing it in real life felt so special and soothing. And your personality, mature with a childlike spirit within you. Honestly, I love the way you carry yourself and if I let my emotions river out : dammm awww ЁЯШнЁЯШнЁЯШн it's soooo hard to believe I actually met youuuuu. I also got into literature because of you, the concept of expressing wonders with words is sooo brilliant. I wanna be just like youuuu : the spiritual understanding of things around you, prioritizing moral values beyond show off and preserving a piece of your own soul. I'm not sure if you've heard about a character, Luna lovegood from the famous harry potter series but she's my favorite and you totally resemble her. The similarities are sooo prettyyyy like the way you speak, your voice is easily distinguishable from the rest, your hair is sooo inspiring since Luna keeps her hair in an unusual style too and I prefer keeping mine in a funny way. If you look closely, it's filled with split ends which is cut myself and the front parted hair is longer than the ones behind. For instance, you have a really calm aura around you almost as the scent of home and comfort. You're soo much like a mythological fairy omggg. I love the literary pieces composed by you which makes me feel like art still exists even without ai. And yea surelyyy I'm into nerds, weirdos and I wanna someday really adopt the real me and live in the hills lol haha. A lil secret, I wanna be a healer ( a beautiful term I use for doctors) and a secret poet who bleeds on paper. Gather enough wage to build a house around countryside area, disappear, have my own ecosystem of farms to grow veggies and animals especially lambs, goats, cats. I reallyyy love black cats with green eyes. I got shamed a lot for having a dark skin and people thought that calling me names like these would hurt me in some sort of way but it made me discover my favourite animal yayy. Also talking about few things, I believe that 'god' is a heavily beautiful term, for me, my god is within my soul, god is the sun, fresh soil and basically every naturally occurring element and I immensely love every religion. Also I love people and I consider myself a huge supporter of bi community and every other identity that exists. (Just a few things I learnt over these years) And I would really love catching up with you and getting to learn lots of new things from you.
Dammm it's sooo long hai sooo sorryyy
I love youuu :))))
With lots of love, Sam ЁЯТЧ
Dearest Sam,
I am so excited for you, for your future, for all the adventure and misadventures (yes, those too), for ecstasies and tragedies life is going to bring you. You were so effervescent, almost intoxicated with life. Your dreams are beautiful. Go chase them hard. Be weird, be stupid, always be a daredevil. And be happy. May god always give you enough grace to realize joy is the right response to life. Grow big, I am excited for you. You reminded me of myself. Makes me smile when I think of you. For some reason this couplet comes to my mind: "Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light." --Dylan Thomas
Hi Bhusita,
Im reading Richard Wilbur and Anthony Hecht. Apparently Wilbur mentored a group of new formalist poets. I wonder what you think of English poetry, its sounds and its rhythms, when you examine it alongside your knowledge of Sanskrit prosody. Also, I miss you in facebook.
Interesting thing about the corpus of Sanskrit literature is how intentional it is about everything. For example, the letters---also known as Maheshwar Sutra---are not just letters but mantras each. They are called matrikas. A phoneme is a sound, a semiotic unit and eventually a secret code. A word, therefore, is always far more than what it means. Haven't read Wilbur or Hecht (tell me more) but I resonate with the Formalists. I am almost trying to do so with my own limited capacity. But either I didn't meet a teacher who could initiate me into the mystical aspect of English language or it doesn't exist, I think Sanskrit language marries mystical with the linguistic, therefore the potency of meaning or dhvani is insanely multifarious. It is marvelous.
I am big fan of yours do u have time to read my poem. I am just a beginner I don't know much more about poems but I want someone to listen to what I have. The poem I just started inspired by your voice and mahakavi laxmi prasad devkotas poem - ek sundari beshya prati. I have listened to it about 200 times ЁЯШЕ. Euta tyei rhyme ma Milne gari kabita suru garexu.
рдбреБрдмреЗрдХреЛ рдПрдЙрдЯрд╛ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐ рд╣реБрдБ рдЧрд╣рд┐рд░реЛ рдорд╛рдпрд╛ рддрд╛рд▓рдорд╛ред
рд▓реБрдХреЗрдХреЛ рдПрдЙрдЯрд╛ рдорддреНрд╕реНрдп рд╣реБрдБ рдкреНрдпрд╛рд░реЛ рд▓рд╛рдЧреНрдиреЗ рдЬрд╛рд▓рдорд╛ред
рдЪрд╛рд╣рд┐рдиреНрди рдЧреАрдд, рдиреГрддреНрдп рдЧрд░реНрдЫреБ рдо рдЭрд░реАрдХреЛ рддрд╛рд▓рдорд╛ред
рдо рдареАрдХ рдЫреБ, рдЬреЗ рдЫреБ рдЬрд╕реНрддреЛ рдЫреБ, рдЫреЛрдбрд┐рджреЗрдК рдореЗрд░реИ рд╣рд╛рд▓рдорд╛ред
рдирд┐рднрд╛рдЙрдиреБрдЫ рддреНрдпреЛ рдХрд╕рдо, рдо рдЖрдЬреИ рдорд░реНрди рд╕рдХреНрджрд┐рдирдБред
рдЬреАрд╡рди рджрд┐рдЗрд╕рдХреЗрдБ рдХрд╕реИрд▓рд╛рдИ, рдо рдмрд┐рд╣реЗ рдЧрд░реНрди рд╕рдХреНрджрд┐рдирдБред
рдо рдлреВрд▓, рдК рдЬрд░рд╛ рдореЗрд░реЛ, рдК рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдмрд╛рдБрдЪреНрди рд╕рдХреНрджрд┐рдирдБред
рдбрд╛рдБрда рдЫ рдкреЛ рдмреАрдЪрдорд╛, рд╕рдореНрдмрдиреНрдз рдЧрд╛рдБрд╕реНрди рд╕рдХреНрджрд┐рдирдБред please reply ЁЯе▓ЁЯе▓ЁЯе▓
: ) Keep writing,
Hello Didi, I hope you are doing well.
I have tried to write something about тАЬEk Sundari Beshya PratiтАЭ. Your narration at Paleti is how I fell in love with it, and I listen to your narrations almost every day. I tried to find the Nepali lyrics, a parallel translation, and some thoughts on the verses.
It would mean a lot if you could find some time to go over it. Please correct me if there is anything in this writing or anything that I understood wrong.
https://emergencycab.github.io/To-a-Beautiful-Courtesan/
Dear Prashanta,
I relished the essay.
"He is a sitar, an instrument built for resonance, not for logic."
This sentence encapsulates the essay for me. However, here's the thing---is resonance not logical? What intelligence facilitates the transmission of flame from a matchstick to a candle? Or as Bashir Badr so beautifully describes:
рдкрд░рдЦрдирд╛ рдордд, рдкрд░рдЦрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╣рддрд╛ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рдЖрдИрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рджреЗрд░ рддрдХ рдЪреЗрд╣рд░рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╣рддрд╛ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдорд┐рд▓рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рдореЗрд╢рд╛ рдлрд╝рд╛рд╕рд▓рд╛ рд░рдЦрдирд╛ рдЬрд╣рд╛рдБ рджрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╕рдордВрджрд░ рд╕реЗ рдорд┐рд▓рд╛, рджрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╣рддрд╛
Devkota is said to have written this poem in Benaras, where he had been toiling as a coolie, selling poetry to earn two meals. As powerful as the courtesan metaphor is, the feminine mustn't always be mistaken for the female. I am not so sure Devkota wrote this poem in rebuttal to Bhanubhakta's Vadhushiksya; I just imagined he did. There is no historical reference to this. But I couldn't help connecting the dots.
Devkota was a candle, eternally chasing the incandescence. A full moon would do. A river. A calf, its silken hind would do. He was a sitar, indeed. And in Tantra, there is a beautiful meditation where we visualize our body as a stringed instrument. When the strings are too tight, they might snap. When left loose, no music comes through. The body of the instrument is mundane, the strings are mundane, and through this mundane instrument emerge the waves that is closer to divinity than anything else we know. Devkota was a perfect lyre. A touch, a glance, an absence, fragrance, a strand of hair --everything produces resonance in him, the spanda. We have visualized the divine as Satyam, Shivam, Sundaram. While the body of a beautiful woman is indeed an easier portal to beauty, the Beauty he is speaking of, transcends woman's body. Sometimes I think Devkota was referring to himself as a prostitute. I imagine Devkota, the dark crust of sun-burnt skin, his eyes, I imagine him, sweltering in Kashi, where hermits and tantrics flock around the cremation pyre, seeking portal to the other world, the spray of soot escaping the pyres, the crows, the thugs, the hermits, the endless stream of pilgrims, the leftover leaf plates, sticky with sugar syrup, the flies and Devkota. Hungry. His ribs, incessantly humming lyric, which he must write and then sell. To god knows who. If you ask me Devkota was that Courtesan.
I am so moved you wrote this essay. I am so moved that you have been thinking about Beauty. Thank you for sharing. I had no faults to find. For a critical take, I might have to read it again. But indulge me and spare that burden.
if love has no reasons...then how can we distinguish genuine love from obession,illusion or mere attraction?
Attraction is no тАШmereтАЩ thing. Van Gogh had said, "If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat, even if people think it is a grass in the beginning."

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Today Kirateshwar was so kind as to grant me an audience and I wore the yellow shawl.
These days ,I am thinking a lot about meritocracy.What is often viewed as a talent,excellence or geniuses is a result of access to resources. Discipline,rigour,obsession and hardwork are certainly important but our journey can be made easy with proper mentorship.Arguably,one must find peace and joy in the process of doing but the trauma of continued failure can't be ignored.As a human, how can we have control over certain feelings like desire, jealousy, lust, hunger and laziness?Or- should we never try to control them?
(Also, I have sent you a poetry recitation on messenger. I have been searching its writer since long but have failed.I would be grateful to have your help)
Suruchi, I don't know why this message was fermenting on my inbox for so long. And also my sincere apologies for the oversight on messenger, I don't use Facebook much lately.
Your question is deep, multi-faceted. Yes, the trauma of continued failure is real. The secular society puts a huge onus on humans. Meritocracy is the progeny of Secularism. If destiny is non-existent what function do we attribute to the notion of cause and effect? If we alone are responsible for our failures and successes, how does a "failed" person preserve their self-esteem?
There are two things: a. first of all, I think we should strive to be self-sufficient. Mainly in two realms, i. finance and ii. emotion. We should try to do the basic physical labor so we are not burdening anyone else. For example, I personally don't have a career. At every point of time, I have treated job like something that will give me money. People don't recognize me for my job. Most people know me for what I do during my leisure hour, the work none pays me to do. But if you do not come from wealth, you have to earn that leisure by taking up a job you might/might not like. So, the first thing is financial independence. Take up a job, any job, any menial job and don't identify with it. With that money, you buy yourself leisure. I do not judge people for what they do for money, but what do they do in the time, none is paying them to do anything. It could be art, it could be gardening, it could be taking care of elders, it could be collecting stamps, it could be cleaning the window sills.
Secondly, we should also strive to be emotionally self-sufficient. By that I mean, we should recognize we ourselves are responsible for our happiness and sadness. Of course, the external factors can be trying, but we must strive to build emotional stamina to take up tragedies without blaming people around us.
Once we achieve those, the real life begins. Meritocracy is idealistic. It discounts what Pierre Bourdieu calls "cultural capital". There is the material capital, of that plenty has been said. But there are intangible capitals. I personally think beauty, finesse, culture, even morality is largely the function of wealth. It is not a level playing field. There are so many factors that influence the outcomes. Again, if I was born in a wealthier family, had access to so called great education, I would have been in a different place. But the other story is also true. Had I been born in the same social bracket as I have, but as a boy, my theory is, less people would have been attracted to my poetry. There are so many dimensions to power. We embody at least one each. I have no delusions about what I represent as a woman. The patriarchal society tries to deify intellect as the higher dimension. But as Audrey Lorde would have said, to see the body, the beauty, the sensuality as the lesser of the two between mind and body is misogynistic. We as women have advantage that men might not, but objectified beauty is a depreciating asset. Additionally, having had born into financially-constrained environment, we might have been deprived of cultural capital. So, when two people put the equal amount of hard work and discipline, they might not achieve the same goal. There is no meritocracy. Inequality is an a priori.
So how do we defy it?
By recognizing that it doesn't define you. What you do, what you achieve are contingent upon external factors. Neither your failure, nor the success is entirely yours. But who you are, how you think, how gentle you are, how kind, how self-aware--you can change that. Marcus Aurelius, the emperor and Lucretius, the slave, they were both stoics. They were both philosophers. We can be philosophers. Of course, none will reward you for being a philosopher. However, the life that is worth striving for is not the one that will fetch you money and recognition (though, I stress, we should pursue money independently so we may earn our leisure).
It is nice to be realistic. It is good to be aware of our pettiness. Jealousy, comparison, etc, are inevitable. To a large extent, these are survivable mechanisms. My best advise is try to be indifferent to your success and failure, and persevere regardless, because you see them as actions you need to do regardless in order to live. But philosophize. Strive for qualities that capitalism doesn't rewards--be kind, to yourself and others. Be soft. Happy, for no reason.
That I think is a meaningful life. The life worth striving for. Failures and success will come your way. Maybe you will fail more than you will succeed. But your job is something you are doing to earn your leisure. Even if you go the fanciest of schools, get the fanciest of jobs, what you are striving for really is happiness. Money, Plato said, is a means to an end. None wants money for itself but for what it can buy. But happiness! Happiness is an end unto itself. Find out little things--things that cost you nothing, that is not dependent on your success or failure--that bring you happiness. For me it is moon, flowers, water bodies. Understand that life is an opportunity to absorb so much beauty and wisdom, it is a wonderful prelude to the soft decay, the annihilation.
Ultimately, man is sovereign. We are gods, no less.
What does it matter if we fail sometimes? Or if we fail every time? Albert Camus said, Sisyphus, for whom the failure was daily and eternal outcome, Sisyphus was a happy man : )
тАЬWhen a man turns away from God, he simply gives himself up to the law of gravity. Then he thinks that he can decide and choose, but he is only a thing, a stone that falls.тАЭ - Simone Weil, Waiting for God
Byzantine temple of the Archangel Michael in the Selino region of Chania, Crete, Greece.
Hello didi hope you are doing well. If you remember me from our conversation about making Nepali Vocabularies better after Paleti session, you might also remember suggesting me one book. I was so overwhelmed after meeting you that I couldn't remember the books name. Can you suggest me some more books along with the one you suggested me that day?
Dear Subigya, I might have been as overwhelmed as you were for I have forgotten the context of our conversation though I do remember you. Tell me a little bit more and I might remember. When I strain hard, a book titled тАЬThe Spell of the SensualтАЭ comes to me. But it is not about Nepali language per se. Might I have suggested that one? I am so hussu.

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Hi didi! I hope you are doing well. Its me, durga. What do you think is the final act of love? Is there anything as such? And, has anyone ever told you that you sound like Raag Bhoopali?
what is the final act of love? This thought presupposes that life is like a theater work. There is the final act and the curtain will fall down. And we can neatly compartmentalize the chronology. I don't know.
There are no creases in water. It is not made to wrinkle. So isn't time. Each act of love is final act of love. Maybe the question really is, is your life an act of love? If not, what is your play about? All tragedies and comedies, the epics and haikus, somehow echo the resonance I think is love. I am a biased romantic, I am certain to mislead you. But these are my two cents.
Coming to Raag Bhoopali, are you aware how some of you spoil me rotten here with compliments like these?