Thapa Shyam

@thapashyam

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98 Followers

Thapa Shyam pfp

Clouds crouched low, their bellies swollen with unspent grief. And I waited beneath them, arms open, thinking: maybe rain is heaven crying clean—spilling the ache of endless blue, washing dust from our stubborn need to always look bright.

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Fog muscled into alleys of pine, flexing biceps of gray between boles. Bark sweated resin tears that glued silence shut against its scream.

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Today the lake was still, like a mirror that didn’t want to reflect anything too sharply. I looked into it anyway and saw myself not as I should be, but as I was—tired, open, uncertain. And I realized that maybe honesty is what makes a reflection feel like home.

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At dawn's edge, elephants bathed in the river’s golden skin Their trunks rose like questions, spraying answers into light I watched not as an intruder, but as a witness invited only by silence

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Beneath collapsed trees, toads croaked lullabies for nothing but the night Their voices cracked and echoed into roots It was enough

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In still meadows, butterflies landed with weightless finality Their colors did not apologize Beauty has never asked permission

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In jungle fog, jaguars blinked at mirrors made of dew They saw not reflections—but futures The predator dreams, too

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The lynx listens before it leaps. Snow muffles its landing. Predators move in silence.

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The vineyard stretched down the hillside in rows, its vines heavy with clustered treasure, and the breeze carried the promise of wine and warmth.

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Sunlight poured across the land like honey.

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On tundra slopes, ptarmigans shift plumage with seasons. Brown becomes white without warning. Predators lose them in plain sight. Change is their truest trick.

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This sky? It’s not painted. It’s remembering.

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The train was delayed. I looked up from my phone. Turns out, the sky was putting on a show.

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Retail loves certainty. But markets only offer probabilities. Once I accepted that, everything became less emotional.

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Among the blooming valley, it traces a forgotten tune like a secret remembered.

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Just sipping on a cup of tea, watching the rain outside. There's something so calming about the sound of raindrops against the window. Peaceful moments like this are my favorite.

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Just finished a hearty bowl of ramen with extra chashu and a side of spicy mayo. The perfect comfort food on a rainy day like today.

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Nature pauses, letting me touch something eternal.

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Just enjoyed a hearty bowl of ramen on this chilly day. The steam rising, the noodles slurping, pure comfort food in a bowl.

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When soil erodes and skies fall, something still dares to rise.

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