Random hits on the keyboard

The alarm rang; it was 4 am. I woke up and got ready for another half marathon. I was waiting for this run for weeks. I got ready; pinned my bibs '187' on my chest, tied my running shoes. There was no rain and it was cloudy - the perfect weather for a run. Early at 5, when I reached the Patan Durbar Square, I saw that a huge crowd had already gathered. I was among the many, many other runners, unlike in my office, where I am among a few runners. The vibes were incredible. Many were taking selfies in the middle of temples and old palaces. The running distance varies all the way from 1kms, 5 km, 10 km to 21.1 km. It was satisfying to see that the running culture is not only increasing but also exploding. I whispered my prayers to the gods around the square. The king, Yog Narendra Malla, was witnessing the event from the pillar at the centre.  I squeezed into the crowd at the starting line. I spotted some familiar faces; I knew no names of them, but I had met them in previous mara...

  Scrolling through YouTube for wisdom, I came across the Big Think video by Brian Klaas, Associate Professor in global politics at University College, London. And the author of "Fluke: Chance, Chaos, and Why Everything We Do Matters." Summary of the video His book "Fluke" pivots on a compelling argument: our lives and the grand tapestry of society are far more susceptible to the whims of chance and arbitrary forces than we typically acknowledge. We often seek neat narratives, believing that events unfold with a clear purpose and reason. However, the world around us is constantly being nudged, diverted, and reshaped by seemingly random occurrences. A small alteration at a critical juncture can send us down an entirely different path. A 19-year-old vacation and the weather conditions changed the atomic bombs target cities in Japan during the Second World War. Our individual lives and the world at large are molded by the invisible pivot points, the flukes trigger unf...

“In all chaos, there is a cosmos, in all disorder, a secret order.” — Carl Jung "Kathmandu is chaotic"—I grew up hearing and believing this. It often seems as if there are no rules here, that everything runs on its own terms. Traffic is a perfect example. The roads are narrow, there are barely any footpaths, and street vendors occupy half the street. Somewhere, always, there’s road construction, sewage repair, or a new water pipeline being laid. The city is messy. But as I move around the city more mindfully, I’ve begun to notice something different—a kind of unwritten system. Amid the disorder, Kathmandu has created its own rhythm, its own way of functioning. Take traffic, for example. Everyone knows that motorbikes get preference at traffic lights. It’s not in the rulebook, but it works. Ironically, trying to strictly impose traffic regulations often creates more disorder than the chaos it aims to fix. And then there's the strange system of signalling on highways, where...

     I often watch the DW news channel. Its intro music and bumpers instantly transport me back to Yaoundé, Cameroon. I worked there in 2018, knowing little about the country beyond its celebrated football legacy. Yaoundé was fascinating, yet unfamiliar. Cameroon is officially bilingual—French and English—but French dominates daily life. I struggled with simple things: getting a taxi, ordering food, even shopping. Most television channels were in French, except for DW and NHK. After work, I had little to do. My evenings were spent watching TV or reading. That DW bumper music? It came to symbolize my loneliness. I had no friends there. The cultural gap made it hard to connect with colleagues. Every email required Google Translate. I travelled across the country—from the Far North (Maroua) to the South-East and South-West provinces. It was amazing to see the jungle, which extends for hours of flight. The vastness of greenery was something I had not seen. The towns and hou...

I woke up at 04:45 a.m., as usual, and got ready for my run. I had not picked the direction yet. The pollution was in the orange zone, which is unhealthy for a sensitive group. Technically, I am not in the group, but I had to be cautious. I believe that skipping a run is more harmful than a bit of pollution, and at the same time, being in a location which has (relatively) better air, probably South Lalitpur. The Rato Machhendra Nath festival has started. On my way, I prayed and headed from Nakkhu along the bank of the Bagmati River. I have never taken the route. I only saw the place from across the river. The location looked less urban. The paddy field and grassland gave me a feeling of old Kathmandu.  Only four kilometres away from my home, the air felt cleaner. The rain the night before had settled dust, but the road was muddy. Deep breathing was possible - this was a reward for waking up early, before the city woke up.  I am extremely fortunate to be able to enjoy my mornin...