Abhibandu Kafle

Information security professional


By Abhibandu Kafle

Category: uncategorized

“That Itch

When I am alone, the impulses within me intensify, resonating like the grand scenes of the Mahabharata, when kings arrive with majestic fanfare. Some thoughts are mine; others are repeated – heard, spoken, experienced. There’s a desire to distinguish between what is borrowed and what is original.

There’s an energy inside me that needs to be released – I jump, dance, sing, and then, for a moment, find peace. But the corners of my mind still scream. The pen arrives to silence these screams, and I am content.

Perhaps this clamor, regardless of its nature, is the divergence of Dostoevsky’s individualism and Nietzsche’s collectivism.

There’s a thirst in people, perhaps in everyone. Some find the root and quench it with water, while others squirm and numb it with alcohol, only realizing later – thirst isn’t quenched by liquor.

If only the source of quenching thirst were the same for all. For some, water flows right at home – just open the tap. Others suffer in the desert. Some forget their thirst in the drunken stupor on the streets. Others, too lazy to pour water into a glass, guiltily live on.

The way art blossoms is astonishing. It’s hidden at various levels – in language, in the pen and ink, on the canvas. When that expression is delved into, it’s like quenching thirst, even if it’s second-hand. The essence fades away, leaving behind a message – go on, take a sip, quench your thirst, let my satisfaction inspire you to find your own source. Nurturing the sprout of thought may not be easy, but the cost of not watering it is immensely greater.”

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