Covid: Are we the victim or responsible?

Covid 19: Whats happening and why is it happening? Are we victim or responsible? Now that you’ve finally got the time #reflect.

Riots for good or no reason from rewriting legislation to water scarcity. Too much noise since…and now this silence (imposed that is)

People with surgical masks in the conference room, locals requiring permit for a walk in a nearby park, and a good enough reason for people wanting to spend/shop using their own money…Surreal but mostly weird and the fact that its happening. 😔

Source: WHO

High time we humans, reflect on our actions and it’s consequences. Just saying, take this as a sign from #MotherEarth—she who demand that our reckless behaviors be put to a halt followed by necessary corrections.

Not necessarily with a bad intention, but we humans, in the name of advancement and economic growth, have caused more damage than any good. Really, if there is no today, how can there possibly be future? In other words, if this is today with 7.7 B imagine the future? Will there be any worth living?

Not every disaster comes with a warning but they leave behind a tremendous lesson to be learnt. So, if not now when will we reflect?

Stay safe and #reflect! Now that you have the time to. $hri§T

Wordplay & Reality

This post is inspired by and the continuation from this post from 9 years back. Did it take 9 years to compose new? Nope! But from all things learned, now seems about right–to share. So here we go and pardon me scoffing and kindly bear with my queries.

Photo courtesy: steemit

Can art be a commercial success or only success defines what’s art?
Emotions sell, so in a union, you find a trusted ally, a spy, trade, or a trade-off?

So generous! A glass of raining champagne for all? But what’s the occasion? Who or what got sold to get you where you are today?

Chivalrous eh? Does that extend beyond women and your selfish motives? Oops! I dare not judge by the way you gently treat her, but the way you treat the less fortunate.

Deep pockets but why a soul so shallow?
Big dreams but a heart so small?

Tolerant with boss and patient at work but not so at home?
At home, they tolerate you because they love you but…do you? 

Make space for new but discard the old? Your new love, life, career, and a child on its way, but you on your way to an old age home?
Aw, you love me? OR perhaps, it’s just the hormones?
Want to extract, get as much as you can and give–none.

Do as you wish but don’t get caught and there you have a well-bred society? Barely full-fledged human but oh so civil…?

Ripping off what belongs to nature– of course, you are the land-LORD. Whoever accumulates more plays god?  

How well you sell, sails you big time. Go on…trade other’s emotions, that sells too and at any given day.

We’re all selfish at times and we have the ability to be kind too. We ‘re all good with a fair share of bad, all within us. But you know, you get what you extract. What you feed grows. You decide…you do and you get. I am working on my vices with an attempt to minimize it as much as I can. I hope to inspire at least one if not all to do the same.  

Alexa turns 9!

041410, how can I ever forget this date…And for all those prepared for a good read, let be burst your expectation bubble right here 😉 I have nothing fancy to say–unfortunately. Just wanted to share that she (as in took a physical form 9 years ago today. Happens to be a Nepali New Year too. So, on this double occasion, wishing all the ‘beings’ in the world: love, health, peace, prosperity, and anything or everything that your heart truly desires, but wish responsibly. Stay blessed and have a great year ahead.

Why do I write?

In retrospect, trying to figure out what writing means to me. How it really makes me feel? Why the need to write? Often I claim to have loved it. If it’s sth I love, why do I do it seldom? I think I know the answer :

  • When carefree or careless, I write
  • When hopeful or in despair, I write
  • When in love or out of it, I write
  • When in pain or healing, I write
  • When either sad or happy, I write…

Complete freedom to me comes with an ability to fearlessly express how I feel when I feel it. No drama, no games, I believe in being true to my emotions at all times.

Some are very protective of me that I write. They worry I give out way too much of myself in the process. While others are disheartened that I do it seldom. TBH, I don’t write or hold back for none of these groups. I don’t entirely do it for myself either. I write because I can’t resist the urge (when it comes); in that sense writing is more of a necessity than a free will.

While writing I come text-to-text with my alter ego. These words are not just my mere reflections. If I may say so, it has the life and soul of its own. Like a spirit, these words seek my attention and demand to take a tangible form. 

Writing makes me feel; sometimes way too much. There are times when I want to feel nothing and disconnect from the world. It’s then, I resist writing. But even then, more often than not, I’m always writing. But yes, I admit I don’t post as often as I write.

Despite the bittersweet emotions writing brings with it—it sets me free. It helps me heal better and faster. Writing makes me vulnerable yet strong and very much alive.


Kurt Cobain once said, “I’d rather be hated for who I am than loved for who I am not.” My values and choices seem to complement that principle, more so, when writing. Writing allows me to be—myself. It brings out the most authentic self in me, often to my own surprise.

Through writing I confess my deepest fears to myself; writing enumerates my life experiences back to me. When having to deal with turbulent times and difficult emotions, words help me cope-up. It is for this reason, writing is my guiding light (has always been). Also, personally I think I express better through writing. Writing extracts the vitality from 8 years old in me and imparts wisdom from an 80-year-old in me. It feeds and nurtures both and all ages in between.

Writing embraces every aspect of my emotion. Writing to me is a form of my being. I AM BCOZ I FEEL, thus I write. I write coz I know, no other way of expression that feels so fulfilling and therapeutic. I write for all the reasons above and more. I shall continue writing as long as I feel, as long as I live.

How did it all begin?

I’ve been writing for as long as I can recall. I remember presenting a handwritten letter to my mum expressing my deepest emotions or at least attempting to—as an 8-year-old. While in 8th standard, I remember penning down thoughts about my experience on 1st day in school (new school). This write-up got published in a school magazine later that year—was indeed my first publication ever. When in 10th standard, I recall replying to a guy’s proposal, searching for the right words to decline, but politely. I remember having written a short essay as an assignment in high school, which earned me a praise from the vice principal in front of the class for portraying it beautifully. 

High school wasn’t even over, then came work. Although my first job wasn’t related to writing; I guess I never stopped. One of my ex-gifted me a notebook back in 2008 realizing this hidden passion of mine. It seems, he and many others saw it in me before I’d even considered it for myself. One of my bestie (Ujjwala) suggested me to start a blog; this was sometime in 2009. I let the idea hover until that day at work when there was no work. It was 2010 and I’m referring to a time when SM’s ship was sinking (the first organization where I’d worked). While there were many, killing time playing counter strike during odd hours, I seized that as an opportunity to start my own blog. Thankfully this attempt of utilizing time wisely in no time earned me a new job offer at ECS Media back in 2011. To my surprise, several others followed; in fact, in 2012 I received 7 or 8 job offers at once. I was under tremendous pressure to make the right choice. But today, I can say this proudly that I’d made the right decision by going full time with HLE (Home Loan Experts) which gave me the best 4 years of my career.

Coming back to ’why I write.’ Again, I do so, not to prove anything to anyone; not even to excel the art, but simply to express my thoughts and emotions with nothing but pure honesty. Although what I say may, very likely contradict from time to time but they are true to the moment when it’s being written. It’s like flipping pages of chapters from my own life (after having experienced it and learned a lesson ) I write, to move on to the next.

Happy reading, happy learning, happy writing. $hri§T

To my non-readers

Most of my readers are non-readers turned readers and I take pride in the fact. So here’s to those non-readers from all around the world. All those curious souls in all size, shape, creed and color, or an accidental SEOs…Whatever it is that brought you to the world of Alexa Creation – you are welcome. I’m glad you are here.

When I’d started Alexa Creation (7 years ago), the objective was simply to let it out; with no mere intention of being noticed. Back then few of my dear friends had suggested that I must start a blog; I wasn’t sure if I was ready but I gave it a try; spilled my heart out and it felt good. Therefore I continued for nothing but self-healing, but now I have a bigger reason.

As we know: The Only Thing That Is Constant Is Change. We are in search of the highest and the brightest within us. Similar to those trillion cells in our body mutating every millisecond and on an external level, those life experiences helping us grow spiritually until we’ve learned our lesson…I too am in that process of transforming into my complete self and I’m glad you are here to witness. So, cheers to our commonality that has connected us, despite our differences.

Writing to me is not just a form of an expression, but my existence. It is sincerely from the heart and its sheer earnest attempt unfolding every aspect in me; where not only one facet alone fully defines me. I’m glad some of you have recognized that.

Your messages on how my writing to your own surprise has turned you into a reader 🙂 encourage me to continue. Without the motivation, even the unencumbered attempts or the greatest of ideas lay adrift. So I thank you all for appreciating, encouraging and giving it a purpose.

No matter how you relate/connect: be it thought-provoking or a sheer pleasure of wordplay. Feels amazing to learn that ‘I in my own little way’ have touched your hearts for good (if not better). My heartfelt gratitude to all my non-readers turned readers and all others.

P.S below I’ve shared few of my favorites in no particular order🙂

Happy reading 📖



Heaven so close to home!

Whoever said it, its true “best things in life are free.” 🙂

Enjoying the breathtaking view from home. Now how far do we need to go and how much do we need to spend to get a glimpse of heaven? Heaven and happiness after all is as close as your heart is to your body. All you need to do is take a moment to realize. Ah! Heaven so close to home! 🙂

Cranky Old Man

Below is the poem written by an old man who died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town. Nurses found his poem when going through his meagre possessions. Content in the poem is so impressive and inspirational so thought of sharing it here on my blog. Happy Reading!

What do you see nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit…with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice…’I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice the things that you do.
And forever is losing a sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not; lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding; the long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am …As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of 10 with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters who love one another
A young boy of 16 with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now…a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at 20 my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.
At 25, now I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A man of 30…My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other; with ties that should last.
At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.
At 50, once more, babies play ’round my knee,
Again, we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me .My wife is now dead.
I look at the future …I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles; grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass. A young man still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living life over again.
I think of the years, all too few gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes people -open and see.
Not a cranky old man.
Look closer…see…ME!!

The paradox of our time – by Dr. Bob Moorehead

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints; we spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy it less.

We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time; we have more degrees, but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, but more problems; more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get angry too quickly, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too seldom, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life; we’ve added years to life, not life to years.

We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor. We’ve conquered outer space, but not inner space; we’ve done larger things, but not better things.

We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul; we’ve split the atom, but not our prejudice.

We write more, but learn less; we plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait; we have higher incomes, but lower morals; we have more food, but less appeasement; we build more computers to hold more information to produce more copies than ever, but have less communication; we’ve become long on quantity, but short on quality.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; tall men, and short character; steep profits, and shallow relationships. These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare; more leisure, but less fun; more kinds of food, but less nutrition.

These are days of two incomes, but more divorce; of fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throw away morality, one-night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer to quiet to kill.

It is a time when there is much in the show window and nothing in the stockroom; a time when technology has brought this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to make a difference, or to just hit delete…

Source:Dr. Bob Moorehead

The paradox of our time