I am an Atheist

Just saw a disturbing picture of a devilish persona with his dagger in the air moments before slaying a small buffalo in so called the greatest Gadimai Mela. The scene around was no more than a battle field with detached heads scattered in pool of blood. I cant stop wondering how prosperous, how wealthy and contended the butcher would be succeeding in killing thousands of innocent animals. Nepalese are in fact, sheepish in nature. I had once read a story about a herd of sheep crossing a bridge. One of those falls into the river and the colleagues follow by no matter what lies at front- the inevitable death.

I have always advocated against slaughtering of animals in the name of sacrifice viewed at an orthodox standpoint. Nepal may be one of the few countries with innumerable temples and deities. Conserving and preserving them is one part but such practices are no more than blind beliefs. I always believed that devotion to Gods is nothing if it is not based on noble thoughts. Those folks are only sheep in lambs clothing as they never practice what they preach. Its just like: Fool to others, to himself a sage. But as I often believe-A big world, millions of characters with billions of beliefs. This is only a tiny anecdote while thousands of such malpractices are rampant throughout.

Black Day

There come some moments in life when you know you are heading wrong but the subconscious part of brain induces you to proceed further undermining the horrific outcomes associated. Moving back the memory lane, I want to remember some of the black days of my life. Thankfully, those are the gone days and every one of them failed to preoccupy the brain. From breaking my arms twice to undergoing a fatal collision with a rickshaw while in plus two, they were quite memorable incidents to think of. Still, life has not been plagued by such 'minor' incidents and moving forward with an energy of whirlwind and passion.

Here I stop to think of any further days of despair and this must be something to cheer about. Talk about some of my friends. The roller coaster ride of life they have travelled shadows the hardships I have suffered. This may not mean blowing my own trumpet, laughing at their failures. How beautiful the earth would have been to see each of us being basked in glory for our achievements, for all the heavenly pleasures and the elation to see all our wishes fulfilled. But these are only science fictions- excitement to think of but impossible in reality.

Today was one of the black days of my life, but thankfully, it was only a few hundred pounds of monetary loss. I am not sad or repenting to what happened. There are certain things in life that are inevitable and pre-destined. Ifs and buts would only add fuel to the fire but the sanity lies in burying them dead. Decades of time is in store for me to compensate the monetary loss I suffered. It was something funny to think of too. Anyway, tomorrow is the new day to start with my assignments.

Tribute to my Grandpa..

In the backdrop of dense woods lies a tiny village with houses miles apart but sharing a common community. I am talking about my birthplace the peculiarity of which savours my mind whenever loneliness hunts my psyche. The memory goes back to the childhood when my grandpa made a swing for me to welcome Dashain. He took me to the nearby 'dhara' for shower, lied me down on his towel, fed me milk, narrated stories of his highs and lows, took me along for memorable walks. Yes, he was the man whom I always respected for his innocence, for his enormous sense of humour and the affectionate smiles he shared to enlighten my face in times of despair. He just passed away but I always wanted to see him last time before he fell apart in months old struggle between life and death.

I cant remember me shedding tears in anyone's death so far. Neither I cried on hearing the news of his demise. Months back when I saw his pathetic picture, tears rolled down my cheeks. I only have the memories of the informations I got about his poor health before he passed away. I remember him murmuring my name on phone when I tried to talk to him. Having paralysed on bed for over a month with blood cancer being covered with worsening wound covering his face, he finally rested in peace. I remember him taking me to Swayambhu during my first ever visit to Kathmandu, buying a coke for me. I still remember him admiring my intelligence to find the rented room in Gaushala when he felt difficulty in finding it. He was the father who made all his four sons graduate at a time when others were engaged in farming. For me, he was a man of wisdom though himself uneducated.

He is no more now, nowhere in sight, none of his voices would echo in the rugged terrains of the village. His sincerity, the value he gave for education would always inspire me to work on my dreams. His simplicity, honesty, straight forward nature would remind me of that old man who faced number of ups and downs during his eight decades of living. I now have only the sweet old memories of going with him to the cowshed for milking cow. His memories would never fade apart in my eternal journey of living. May his soul rest in peace in heaven.

Memory down the lane...

Life's mystery determined by times of jubilations and frustrations often lead us back to the horizon where once uncertainty reigned supreme over confidence, dilemma outweighed predicament. Very rarely do tears trickle down my cheeks but the last one turned memorable. Browsing through the old word files, I came across the note I wrote down after being disgruntled for being denied the VISA. I came back home disheartened, gloomy faced. I could not control my tears, I sobbed silently. It was a deafening cry. Here are the excerpts of the post-traumatic feelings:

Someone has rightly said that life is not often the warm and mellow tones of the cello. Some incidents that occur in this short journey compel us to encircle ourselves in an atmosphere of apprehension and nervousness. Come what may, we try to evade ourselves from such aching memories but something that remains hidden into the core of heart is never easy to get rid of.

I still remember the day when my happiness knew no bounds. I was jubilant and ecstatic to hear the news. What a day that was. My story of success was announced among a swarm of photographers and journalists. How can I forget the day when I was engulfed in fear and trembling having to receive such a prestigious award. I was awarded 100% full scholarship to study in London for two years, through an organization that has been working in the field of social welfare in Nepal and many other countries. This story of my success later turned tragic when I was denied the VISA on the ground that I could not prove that I was financially strong though I had presented the required documents which proved my financial capability.

It may not be sensible for me to cry over the split milk. I have no option but to contend myself but one thing is sure that having to receive scholarship has been one of the most heinous crimes I have ever committed in my entire life. I have been palm sweatingly terror struck by the horrible news that compelled me to pass many sleepless nights. I have no any complains or whatsoever towards anybody. I was tagged with the medal of a scholarship holder but have been denied the fruit of my success that was purely due to dint of my hard labor.

I can’t figure out any moral from my own story. But, one thing I have learnt is to expect the best but be prepared for the worst too. Should a quality education be the monopoly of only the handfuls? Should Scholarships be granted looking at one’s Bank Balance or other assets? UK has been rooted into my heart not because of the thriving cities and the skyscrapers. I am more than satisfied with what I have and where I am. I would have contributed my country a lot had I got an opportunity to acquire a universally recognized British degree.

We may encounter such traumatic moments anywhere in our lives. A typical Nepali is never free from hardships and misfortunes. Greats are those who learn from mistakes and never panic in extreme situations. Above all; we have no yesterdays, time took them away. We may not have tomorrow but we have today. We ought to believe that winds and waves are always on the sides of ablest navigators, and never turn back from our goals. This is what I learnt from my own experience.

Here I go...

Seeing the picture of a night life of Thamel reminds me of some of the past moments that I had undergone through while my stay back in Nepal. Though I am not a nocturnal freak, the rare night outings would provide me the joy of orgasm, the ecstasy of watching night stars and the hustle and bustle of markets. I remember the night out with my fellow friends, partying out, returning home late night intoxicated with 'tolerable' drinks. I also remember the night when I danced with my friends on the eve of New Year at Thamel. The latest was the first experience of the kind as is against my nature to participate in wild parties.

The night spent at a hotel along with three other friends at Manakamana was memorable too, not to mention the rare walk at the abandoned streets of Panauti or the return from a party at UWTC that is still etched on my mind as a fresh morning dew. Venturing out at the middle of the dead night along the narrow walks of Old Baneshwor reminds me of the last world cup football. The experience also involves the nights when I used to be riveted with the feeling of fear and anxiety for having to return home from Shangri-La at pitch dark night, avoiding the sounds of scary street greyhounds.

The joy to be at home highly outweighs the professional life burdened with works n studies at a faraway place. It seems like yesterday but its been nearly 2 years since I last enjoyed the panorama of homeland's beauty. It often hounds my brain the necessity to grave the life's pleasures in a pit of burden, responsibilities and accountabilities. The other part of brain consoles me to work on my career, to foresee a bright future on the horizon. Future is uncertain but still, I am happy, contended and pursuing my own way of life.

Mixed Feelings

I am feeling fresher and jubilant. I can remember myself going through uneasiness and depression yesterday but my moody nature brought me back to normality. I am euphoric and over the moon. I am reinvigorated and re-energised, listening to the best songs I have ever heard, bringing back those past cherishing moments into memory, digging all the melancholic moments into the grave. Yes, indeed: I am what I was and what I want to be.

Being faraway from all the near and dear ones, I have learned and adapted to survive on memories. Being occupied and engaged almost round the clock, I utilise the rare but wonderful spare times diving into my own e-world. Here I remember the famous Danish soft rock band-Michael Learns to Rock (MLTR), whose song I am currently listening to. Every time I hear their song, the past memories strike my mind. I picturise those fun-filled school days in mind.

I am also remembering the love I had with Kathmandu while staying away from the capital. Having visited it for the first time while in summer vacation during class one and the next back during class 6, the dream to see the Kathmanduites hanging around in parks and busy roads often thrilled myself while spending the schooling in Biratnagar. Funny as it may sound now, I used to stare at buses plying towards Kathmandu from Biratnagar fanatically driving myself into the thoughts of being inside it some day. I thought those drivers and conductors to be lucky enough to daily visit the 'mesmerising city' (I thought at least during those days). May be due to the immense love I had towards Kathmandu, I still remember everything-the places I visited, the people I talked to, the museum, temples-everything during this first ever visit. Had stayed for a month in Gaushala. I even remember the name of bus that took me to my dream city for the first time-Satkar Travels, the blue and white striped bus (If I remember correctly). The whole night I gazed and gazed out of window, saw the trees pass by. I also remember myself peeing out of the moving bus while on return. Funny was it indeed. Still, I love Kathmandu-the entrepreneurial hub and a bustling city apart from all the negatives.

Nostalgia...Me n my frens..

A friend in need is a friend indeed. Friendship is that refining fire that converts loneliness into togetherness, times of difficulties into times of hope and excellence. The only unadulterated and untainted relationship that seems to exist is between friends who count both in times of difficulties and ecstasy, being an underdog to conquering the pinnacle. Life is long and during its course, a number of friends come and go. Some retain the friendship longer while others vanish like flash floods only to appear in another season. At times we stumble along country lanes only to bump into someone whom we met decades and years earlier. The memories of the past glow our heart with shock and disbelief, excitement and elation. Some of the friends we walked and worked with for years may not be approachable ever in the future or some unknowns may enter into our lives as the greatest of friends near future. Unpredictable as the nature is. I want to remember those greatest of friends who I spent years with, who influenced my life, animated my face at times of grief and distress, pleasure and satisfaction, wishing them a grand and prosperous journeys ahead in whatever directions they are heading into.

The song that makes me feel your presence around me...

I had said I would remember the song whenever I miss you deeply. Today, I missed you and the song came to my mind-the song we sang together...felt it together. We might never repeat our glorious history but whenever I miss you again, I would listen to this song and feel you around me. You would be closer to me at least in memories..

If I got down on my knees and I pleaded with you

If I crossed a million oceans just to be with you

Would you ever let me down?

If I climbed the highest mountain just to hold you tight

If I said that I would love you every single night

Would you ever let me down?

Well I'm sorry if it sounds kinda sad, it's just that

Worried, so worried

that you let me down

Because I love you love you

love so don't let me down

If I swam the longest river just to call your name

If I said the way I feel for you would never change

Would you ever fool around

Well I'm sorry if it sounds kinda bad, just that

Worried, cuz' I'm so worried

that you let me down

Because I love you…

Heartly Dedication

There also comes a time in life, the period filled with gloom, despair and helplessness. The heart begs and pleads for something but the inner instincts fail to take the timely decision. This helplessness leads into the arena where one has no choice but to act as a mere spectator, to see the tears rolling down but failing to stop the flow though wanting to.

The past memories bring delight and ecstasy. The nostalgia of togetherness pomp the heart with excitement and rejuvenation. At least for a second or two, the tears-the outcome of sadness convert into the tears of blissfulness. The drama ends with the heart ripped off, the aspirations dashed, dreams shattered and the lonesome days in horizon. The insult is further added to the injury by more dramatic misfortunes, ill-fated and wretched journeys in sight.

Who is the winner or the loser in this dramatic array of events? None is the answer. But the only way to overcome this grief-stricken time is to conquer it. On one hand there is an utter desire, the will for ultimate unison, overcoming the hindrances. On the middle lies the obstructive wall-impenetrable and immensely thick wall. The other side is the bystander mesmerised by the immense beauty but in an utter dilemma to reach into it owing to a number of stumbling blocks and barriers. The outcome: unknown, the only way ahead-Wait and Watch! Congratulation to the time for getting ahead-far ahead, leaving the followers in agony. Commiserations to the players of the drama with due and heartly respect to the one who sacrifices more, who lets go more tears in this tragical analogy. The bystander would forever be in the debt of honour and gratitude for the former.

Personality matters

Single world, billions of people, millions of characters. In this unfathomable vastness, finding a reasonable character, a good human being is few and far between. Stumbling along this immensity of characters, we do sometimes wallop against those scarce souls-wide and pure enough to soften even the strongest of hearts. Humanity has not died yet.

Talked to my vauju yesterday. A new member of my family, recently wed with my brother. Had heard enough of her pristine personality but the conversation made me crystal clear about her crystalline character. It was only my 4/5th conversation but made me feel as if she is known to me since ages. Now I feel the pleasure to be called Dewar/Babu. My happiness knew no bounds to talk to her. Ever smiling and cheerful, caring, outspoken, great sense of humour- a perfect blend of everything. I have seen many characters in the relative circle but the first impression I got about her is grand.

The first thing that had struck me about her was the picture she had taken with my mom during the wedding day after she entered our world, with her hands rested on my mom's shoulder. I thought that to be daring and friendly though interpretations may vary. The care she shows towards me while talking is overwhelming. I asked her how much my brother loves her and shared that he doesn't look like he loves someone deeply. I was awe-struck by her reply. 'I am only the one to experience his love which others may not know or see for being the closest to him'. She burst into smiles and so did I.

She has seen me in web-cam twice. The second time she saw me, she was complaining that I might have lost my weight and had noticed dark spots under my eyes. My mom had also complained but she proved more precise in speculation. I could sense the care unfolding from within her which was not an expression of formality to any extent. I tried to convince her that I was the same and that might be due to my long hairs. She couldn't believe and was telling me to be more attentive towards health. She was indeed right as I was in fact under pressure-work loads and unbalance in diet.

She was also lamenting for not having a sister who could be my partner and was dying to see my marriage ceremony. The closeness she has with my mom freshens me everytime I miss my family. In fact, I sometimes worried about her, coming to a new world, leaving parents, her homeland. I wonder if we could retain her happiness, to leave no stones unturned to fulfil her wishes. She brought new excitement to my family and I am privileged to get her as my vauju. My mom complains me that she doesn't allow her to do a single stuff, does all by herself. Lucky indeed is my bro.

Travelling with time

Saw in facebook the picture of a friend whom I last met before around 12 years back in class five. He got married, had a daughter and looked mature and manly. I compared him with myself and thought I too have marched much further ahead with time. I laughed at myself at the thought of marrying, fathering a child, burying myself with responsibilities and obligations-A daunting but inevitable task to handle. I consider myself a kid. How come I handle a kid, look for his upbringing? But, these things are predestined and foreseeable. Its amazing simply to think of the characters a man undergoes through during his entire lifetime.This reminds me of Shakespeare's seven stages of man which I learned during school days. A child, teenager, man, father, grandfather.....We seem to enter into the next stage unnoticed. The time flies so quickly.

I also remember the fanatical fiction about Time machine that would take one much farther ahead or lead back millions of years. How wonderful would that be to go past every mesmerising moments, those stunning stages and noteworthy days. I would definitely go back the school days- the fun filled, gorgeous days. I would never be the same centre of attraction engulfed in hours of jolly moods as in those days. Invitations, birthday parties, trips and tours, holidays, mamaghar, get togethers-filled just in memories, dead enough to experience again. The pleasure to control the colleagues being a monitor, going to the extent of beating them with sticks-a joyous opportunity to exaggerate the superiority complex, at least during that time.

The three pillars of class-three students-as known to all by the famous 'SaKaSu' group, 'Su' being myself, still hunts the lonley hours. Though being miles apart with each engaged in his own world now, the memories of togetherness is awesome. May sound humorous but even the teachers let the trio cross boundary at times-letting us into classes minutes after tiffin time or ignoring us even though constantly gossipping sitting at the last bench behind the girls row. No teacher dared to question our own world of freedom-may be all being relatively better in studies. One row full of boys, the other girls row with an empty back bench occupied by us- the trio-this continued for many school years in class 7,8,9,10. Those were indeed the best days of my life.

The V-Day

I can imagine the excitements pondering among thousands of hearts as is reflected from the messages and wishes cross fired among each others in facebook. May all those love birds find their love they wished for, may all the heartless souls implant the feeling of love and affection in the world and society characterised by hatred and violence. Well, for me, may this V-day be the means to grow love within me to be awarded to someone who deserves and to get the same from someone worth deserving.

Mind is the same after hibernating from seven hours of sleep. Was thinking to be pessimist in thoughts but nothing pessimism emerged out of me, or I didn't feel like reflecting even if existent- God knows. I am wondering if this V-Day is holding any significance to my life. Without question, it is always good to celebrate love, to feel its rhythm and to sink in its glorious feelings. Love can be a means to find way to our distorted journeys, to implant positives within ourselves and to curb loneliness. But, my conscience and experience says that a true love should start from hearts than heads. Love someone's attitudes not their attention-seeking complexions. Beauty may fade away with time but the beauty of one's soul is eternally pure and worth concerning about.

This V-Day has not left me untouched inducing me to find my love for someone/something. Someone may be a history but something is a mystery. I would try loving the works I do, cheering for accomplishments I make and try finding the true love I wish for, a love involving hearts, pure and fresh enough to bring fascination and deep attraction between both of us. I would indeed be ready to sacrifice my pleasures and tears to make that true love happy, would march millions of steps forward for a single step she approaches towards me. After-all, calm appears when storms are past, love will have its hour at last....Happy St. Valentine's Day to all the love birds.

Fantasising her..

Valentine's day is round the corner. I would like to remember her-my friend, the friendship with whom turned unforgettable. Below are my thoughts that I wrote down couple of years before in her memory...

“Beauty lies in the eyes of beholder.” This proverb came true to my life in the form of a friendship that existed between me and an innocent, loving, cute little buddy named K. K, a name that I had never forgotten in my life reentered into my psyche, a couple of months ago. The earlier K I knew was K Dahal, in the companionship of which I grew and learned the first alphabets. The attraction with an opposite sex for me, started with the sight of that cute lady in those memorable childhood days, in the canopy of lush green forests and rugged terrain- in Nundhaki

The other K I knew was a Mongolian lady who led me to my first classes in a Boarding School-BKVM, holding my hands, making myself burst into embarrassment, for I had traveled to the city from a remote semi-inhabited Hilly region, in the form of a typical Nepali guy that had rarely seen the hustle and bustle of towns and cities, and to be held with hands by a girl in front of other students made me feel awkward. It felt like a decade before she willfully detached from me. These two Ks played an influential role in my life from the very outset. So, the name-K had been my favorite names among others. I often had a conception that everyone whose name happened to be K, is adoring, innocent and beautiful, fanatically driving myself to enter into their thoughts to curb my loneliness.

The third K has been the most memorable personality; friendship with whom is soon going to end, may be like other Ks. Sometimes I wonder if relationships are just like flickering lights of candle! But, as far as my conscience says, one should do the thing that he thinks the best-As a matter of fact, a wearer best knows where the shoes pinches. The first impression I had when I saw this girl was normal. There was nothing in her to attract me in the initial days and I had never reckoned that our friendship would conquer the pinnacle. There are so many incidents involving both of us. When K comes to my mind, I can never forget the way she behaves with me. The starting days are worth mentioning, but the thing is that every single minute I passed with her are enough to fill pages. I used to shower her with projectiles of humiliations and disgraceful comments about her in the initial days. I even went to the extent of saying her, a lump of coal for; she had a moderately fair complexion. I had to go Putalisadak to teach but soon I felt that I was going there more to share few moments worth cherishing. I often tagged her with an embodiment of “Pass Time” as it was in my perception that girls are not the creatures to put into ones mind as long as one is sane enough to think right from wrong.

Memorizing some of the incidents, the first thing that strikes my mind is the day when I ignorantly showed her a video which I had never thought even in my wildest imaginations that I would share it with a lady. Browsing through the folders, I saw a video which when played brought tsunami to the serene environment. She screamed like anything and I surprisingly gazed her and towards the monitor. The moment I did so, I burst into embarrassment and indignity. It was not in my philosophy to reveal the inner secrets that a sane person feels shame to think of, not to mention the incident that involves a lady, a friend. Later I apologized her for the blunder by text messaging her after we departed in Maitidevi.

The next incident that comes to my mind is the day when I saw drops of tears trickling down her cheeks. That moment made me realize that their tears are our greatest weaknesses. She looked so loving and tender. I even went to the extent of thinking if her tears were the results of my maltreatment towards her. Later the reason turned out to be otherwise. It was a day for me to cheer as I was not responsible in those horrendous instances.

The other day worth remembering is the one when I spent 3 continuous hours, which I might have done more than a couple of times, gossiping with her, being by her side and sharing my skills to complete a Typing which she was doing, thus helping her to finish it soon. We both shared many cracks in the process and the zeal was to the zenith. I remember me wearing her favorite black attire-a black shirt and she wearing my favorite orange colored kurta. The lonely environment never made us feel that we were unaccompanied rather let us liberated to freely express our thoughts.

One promising aspect of this lady is the way she behaves with others, which is really praiseworthy. Her calmness and her great sense of humor are few of her attributions. How can I forget K with a cup of tea, knocking at my door, smilingly bringing up the cup to me, sometimes even in my constant refusals? I sometimes felt as if being fallen in love with her and, I also constantly thought that it would be a horrendous crime to letting it go that way. But, I would not evade from the ground reality that I had a deep attraction with her, may not be physically but psychologically or spiritually. Someone has rightly said-Personality is to men as perfume is to flower. Her soothing personality highly outweighed her beauty. Unbelievable as it may sound, the very girl that was nothing more than a mere receptionist for me turned out to be a beautiful figure, may be that she taught me a lesson-it is not one’s beauty you ought to look for but other overall characters that count the most in the long run. When I compare K with my previous attraction, both may sound contrasting though the latter too was not that characterless but in her case, I was physically attracted. Nevertheless, K penetrated my psyche to quite a large extent, which very seldom occurs in my life. I may even go to the extent of depicting her as my ‘first love’ because I was psychologically manipulated, often being lost into her memories.

Another promising aspect of K was the way she was brought up. She is so bold and courageous that anyone in her company is compelled to meditate about the way he is leading his life. K is a girl staying far away from the company of parents, struggling to survive and at the same time taking care of the siblings including their upbringing, a daunting task for even a masculine muscle. What is captivating to know more is that she is striving for excellence amidst such hindrances, curbing all the obstacles on the way and sharing smiles no matter what lies inside. I still remember a day when she shared some of her palm sweating and spine tingling stories. The evening I reached my home after departing from her, I turned out tensed and fragile. She genuinely taught me a lesson that you got to be optimistic about your life even though tsunamis may strike you time and again. Life, as a matter of fact, is not always the warm and mellow tones of the cello. The real test lies in the way one handles the hindrances and failures. Being unsuccessful is not a curse but a pathway to lead you towards several successes.

One good thing about me to take pride of is the way I influenced her life. My delight often escalates when she credits me for bringing gladness to her shattered and traumatized life- if I quote her own words. When she smiles with all the flexing muscles, my happiness knows no bounds. We both tease each other blaming the other as if to have been fallen in love with one another. It is also her voice that is noteworthy these days. She speaks in such a mellifluous and soft tone, even the hardest of hearts get melted down in its glory. Her walk is also mesmerizing. She often used to stumble while walking, thanks to her difficult sandals. She used to hold me whenever she was about to fall, strengthening the bond of friendship. I can’t forget one of her peculiar habits of looking at the saris displayed among shops and driving herself into the fanatical thoughts of wearing the same-a typical womanly character.

One of the greatest impressions I had of her is the day when I was interacting with a G4S Guard who was among those learning Korean Languages. The man was an unutterable bore for, he used to talk perennially for hours no matter his partner is interested or not. When that man asked permission from K to take her photo, K gestured me saying that he ought to seek permission from me- a thing that profoundly impressed me. Next thing I remember is the harassment and insults I used to shower upon her, but in a jokingly manner. She often asked me what I liked about her. In the initial days, I replied saying that nothing in her impresses me, eventually turning her face gloomy. Gradually, I started praising her smile, her character, the kurta she wore, her eyes and whatever I thought was worth flattering. I could sense happiness unfolding and blossoming from deep within her.

I can never forget the song “O Carol!” in my eternal journey of life. Whenever that song penetrates my sense organs, K would occupy my breath. I would then bury myself into those melancholic and nostalgic moments. The smoothness of her hands and greatness of her soul would keep on reminding me of that ugly angel! No matter how hard I try, her memories would keep on striking my mind like a blacksmith’s hammer, reshaping my thoughts. Dhading would be a place I would love to visit whenever I get a chance to do so. Our future relationship, no matter in any form, is uncertain like the westerly winds but the relationship my heart has with her is eternal. Sorry K! I might have already hinted you that I am quite unkind when it comes to maintaining relationships. But, I promise, and I swear by God that your happiness would be my lifetime ambition among others. Your approach to the success would be a matter for me to bring delights to my face. I know, the God has been cruel to you quite a many times but don’t worry dear, every cloud has a silver lining. May be that he wants all your sadness disappear at once so as to keep you fresh and ecstatic all the years around.

I still remember a Tuesday when she had observed fasting like other normal Tuesdays. To my astonishment, she had made her way to the office wearing lip stick which I had never seen before. She was blushing in shame, hiding herself from me. I couldn’t stop myself flattering her for her unique get up. Nevertheless, I could sense a feeling within me, personifying her look as a “Behuli”, not necessarily mine though. I still remember those humorous moments when I kept turning my eyes at her lips time and again, compelling her to hide them away from my sight, while heading home after the office was over. There is yet another unforgettable story involving lips. I had told her that I don’t admire ladies wearing extra dark lipstick. In her query about my divergence from that peculiar character of them, I had told her that it would disturb the guys while kissing. I still remember the incident that compelled her to burst into helpless giggles. One thing that induces me to exaggerate my character, at this point of time, is the fact that I never took advantage of her simplicity and frankness though it was as easy as a pie for me do so, considering the openness we had. I used to go vulgar sometimes, but never characterized that habit as my profession and neither made her feel awkward, for I always believe in my outspokenness. The vulgarity always aimed at making those moments stupendous and awesomely noteworthy, not inducing her to think the way or act in the either way. If such few embarrassing moments can make the journey notable, there is a great sense of sanity in leaving no stones unturned, acting humorously. As long as one has an unwavering determination about his crystalline character, one need not necessarily follow the same old honest path. I believe in moving with the breeze of current and in its direction too showing it an immense sense of respect.

K often credits me for manipulating her life. I often advised her to live up to her expectations and for herself. I had sensed that she often spent her time in other’s memory unnecessarily rather focusing her own well-being. It was a marvel for me to divert her thinking into her own prosperity. I also taught her to cherish every moments making pomp and ceremony of every enjoyable seconds. I told her to move her life forward gaily and briskly, rather entangling in fabric of sadness and guilt. It is not the relationships that count in the long run. It is those lessons that one learns not necessarily through bookish knowledge but through experiences through a stupid like me. There are 23 hours and 55 minutes for one to think about his carrier or for his life. One’s greatness lies in the fact that how sensibly he passes that 5 minute because the latter is enough to ruin the former, leaving no room to repent later. I advised her to look for that particular 5 minutes of time.

Girls need more and sometimes even unnecessary care and attention. This came true to my life at the day of “Holi”. I had a great time out there at Putalisadak at the eve. The same day, she was complaining of stomach ache. She was expecting, from me, few words of consolation and careful sight to her condition. Thanks to my peculiar- arrogant as it may be called- character, I left her in the state, at her room and went out to play Holi with other colleagues, for I didn’t think it to be generous for me to unnecessarily pass my time hovering around her rather enjoying the day with my friends. She was later complaining that I left her in that condition and questioned about my loyalty towards her as a friend, a true friend. I could understand the she needed company at that time of angst but I didn’t think it sane enough to express my manhood at the wrong time and at the wrong place because other colleagues would watch my personality and I never wanted anyone to question my character involving a lady, dying anytime to lick their complexion and their state of feminism. I still have the same character.

One thing that I can never forget is her continuous, never ending look upon me that I noticed more than a couple of times. She often made me feel awkward as I couldn’t response her behavior with the same unfocused gaze. When I shouted “K herya?” her response would be “Hann..! Oh..”. What was that perennial focus into my eyes for? May be that I was her good friend! The other thing-We used to depart at Maitidevi Chowk. The road till this Chowk was filled with humor mingled with laughter and several amusing moments. Upon arriving at this “Death Zone”, neither she wanted to depart from me neither did I willfully left her. This sense of eternal bond could be sensed in both of our eyes. Sometimes we both laughed at this feeling and the journey ahead for me was paved with lonesomeness and solitude.

The later part of the days, especially the last day at the office couldn’t turn memorable. I used to rush towards my home, leaving her alone without any reason. The time I bade her Goodbye, she used to exclaim in astonishment-“Are you going?” “Yes” would be my reply and the story was over. Later she was misinterpreting that indifference of mine sensing that I had love with Sabbu- a terrible logic I thought from her. She often used to pair myself with Sabbu as my lover and I also left no stones unturned to exaggerate Sabbu’s character and her beauty, injecting projectiles of jealousy within her. I must confess that I was being quite rude in my ambition to make a girl-at this case K- crazy in my company and leave her completely, unharmed though, before the drama reaches the zenith. It later compelled me to think whether I myself became the victim of my arrogance and entangled myself into the web aimed to capture someone else but thankfully K has been a history for me now, felt only among pages of books, not living enough to feel its presence.

Contemporary..

'One more night...' by Phil Collins..I have been repeatedly hearing this song since yesterday. One peculiar nature about me is that whenever I find something interesting, I get obsessed with it till I get fed up.

Life is cool and smooth. Sometimes, smaller things aim to rattle its smooth flow but the way the inner instincts handle it to prevent any further untoward moments, is overwhelming and awe-inspiring. Life seldom seems to fall into the ditch of uncertainty and ambiguity. One emerges victorious who comes out unharmed, untouched by those traumatising seconds, painful enough to pinch the inner core of hearts. I sometimes burst into inner smiles for having faced tougher moments but emerging out with feather in my cap, forgetting the past, burying them in the dead for the reason- I need to move ahead.

There is a week left for the classes to resume. A new semester, a new beginning, vitality and ambition. I was never ever in my life addicted to studies and classes like now. Kudos to the British system of education unlike our age-old syllabus characterised by theories and monotonous systems. Hats off to those who designed the education system.

'Expect the unexpected but be prepared for the worst'. This phrase has dug deep down into my psyche. The world would indeed be a better place to live in if there were no worst case sceneries. But, happiness and satisfactions cannot be defined in absence of their contrasting forces. I am expecting more feathers in my caps but I have to contend myself against those occasional aggravated moods and lead me into the rays of hope and admiration, zeal and enthusiasm, optimism and sanguinity.

Memory down the lane...

The reason behind my cool, calm and introvert nature might be the environment where I was brought up. Being born in a place, literally uninhabitable, hundreds of miles away from the roads desolated from all modern wonders of the world, I turned out to be reasonably shy and found myself closer with nature and its serenity. Still, I prefer to wonder along the rainforests in Amazon rather venturing along concrete jungles in New York or Las Vegas. I can remember those tranquil lakes, deep forests, snow capped hills around which I learned the first alphabets.

The thing that often disguises me about childhood is the difference in experience about it. I hear people saying childhood to be free of tensions, an escape from all the responsibilities characterised by playful, carefree life. But, even the childhood was a bit bothersome for me. I could sense responsibilities, the high expectations to do well in exams and so forth. The reason again, may be my confinement into my own little world, not fusing with friends and acquaintances. I compare today's children with me as a child. The difference is mighty.

I sometimes think I needed to be a naturalist. I could spend hours watching documentaries on animals and nature. Whenever a foreign channel would broadcast a film on Nepal's nature and wildlife, I would cancel all my works, calling everyone around to watch. I could spend whole day watching the pigeons at my house, noticing each of their movements and their way of living. I could have garnered such hobbies from my dad who is as cool as a cucumber, loves nature, wildlife and its serene beauty. I would love to spend my retired ageing life enjoying the scenic grandeurs and natural beauty probably along South American pampas, Alaskan hills or European countryside.

A kind and compassionate heart

The human machine is moody at times. Sometimes all the worldly pleasures become insufficient to delight its saddened state while the other times, even the smallest of things become a reason for outburst of cheering. I remember a quote written at the back of a greeting I received from my friend while in school. The reason I still remember the quote might be due to the fact that a beautiful girl (friend) had given me at an age when the heart would bounce like anything even being a distance away from an opposite sex, not to imagine the effect of the closeness. It read-'A kind heart is a fountain of gladness making everything in its vicinity freshen into smiles'. It is this kind heart that determines our state of mood and also other's perception towards ourselves. I reckon myself as having a kind heart but haven't really been able to make everything freshen into smiles.

Sometimes I get upset for no any apparent reason. This might have been due to the empty state of mind occupied by devil's workshop. I would really be glad if I could unearth all my weaknesses and re-plant novel thoughts. One of the teachers had revealed me the secret behind musk deer which would wonder around in despair trying to find the scent that comes from his own body. We all have genuineness within us, the power to confront any challenges and to anticipate the outcome of our good deeds. But we wonder like the musk deer in search of peace of mind. These theories are always easier to put light on but the practices are understandably difficult.

Turning point

Life is not always the sweet and mellow tone of the cello. For a beggar, life is all about getting two meals a day while for a rag picker, it is about having easy access to rags. As the saying goes-A bird in hand is worth two in the bush. Contentment is what makes people happy and satisfied. But the point is that there is no any measuring instrument for the level of satisfaction. I always dreamt of going abroad, a good country and then my life would be complete. I am here abroad but this has done nothing to solidify my impatient thoughts. I am restless, desperate and in search for nirvana- the ultimate place for solitude and tranquillity, to some extent.

I have taken a U-turn into my life or I would rather call it an M-turn. I always thought decision making to be the most sought-after qualities a man should possess. But, I am myself a fail when it comes to decision making. Many a times, I have narrowed myself into the crevasse of regret and repentance owing to the wrong decision I undertook. This decision I undertook was instantaneous and spontaneous. But, when I scrutinise it minutely, I felt the positives outnumber the negatives. Also, my manhood-instinct motivated me to take risks associated with it. It is hard to imagine how complex and hazy life can turn out to be. I cant pre-determine how comfortably I can tackle the coming days but I am happy that I have taken a decision among complexities. It would be a challenge for me to soothe the wobbly paths ahead but there is also a victory associated. Considering my expectation for a breakthrough into my life, I would regard this turning point to be a means to ease my anxieties and an inspiration to confront life's challenges ahead.

Living Corpse

I was in a mood to write something today at around 4:30 AM in the morning after I finished reading my usual paper. The desperation soon faded away with the indispensability to wake up early to go for day's work. Yet again, my eyes gazed upon the sight of a mentally retarded man tied to his limbs and body by ropes. He was yelling in vain, unable to express his anxiety leading him to pass every seconds as nightmares. Here I remember a famous quote that had made a remark on me-'A day, an hour of virtuous liberty is worth an eternity in bondage'. For the man, liberty would be a far cry, the thing he would probably receive on his final breath.

I sometimes question the age old traditions, beliefs and practices that have rooted our mentality. Here I remember the country-Switzerland which sometimes comes to the limelight for suicide tourism. Terminally ill persons, those leading a hellish life in despair and pain, waiting the death bell to strike their door, have the right to take their lives through the consent of their family here. Why cant other countries practice the same? It is worth dying than being a living dead. The person I am speaking of is burden not only for himself, but the traumatic life his family members might be undergoing in his care is unimaginable. There should be an instrument that allows the peaceful death of such ill-fated humans as per the wish of them or their families.

There have been many cases of people living their lives throughout in extreme pain. It is a torture for them or better say, a crime against humanity, the criminals being the lawmakers. I have heard many such people who want to escape from this cruelty of survival owing to their desperation to ease themselves out. Laws need to be enforced that allows the wilful death of such patients rather leaving them entangled among uncertainties, desolation and hopelessness.

Friendship

For me, life is all about working, studying and surfing. Sometimes, I question myself if I am enjoying the monotony of confining myself amongst these routine schedules. Most of the times, I get the answer 'Yes'. Boring as it may sound, as a matter of fact, I am not at all disgruntled with myself, for having to rip myself off from enjoying the indispensabilities of this material world. For me, outings, excursions and get togethers come once in a blue moon. But, whenever I get a chance, I leave no stones unturned to enjoy the rare but marvellous moment to the fullest. I can mingle with most of the situations with exceptions apart.

I can anticipate the need of friends both in dire circumstances and happy moments. Friendship multiplies our happiness and divides sorrows- the phrase buried deep down into my psyche since childhood. But, it is outrageous that I am unfaithful when it comes to maintaining friendship. Friends admire me for my innocence, helpful nature and cheerful attitude. They want my companionship not only for today but for days and years to come. But, it is my horrendous nature that isolates me to occupy myself in my own world. I need to open up myself, to nullify my isolation and dare to nip all my evil attitudes into the bud.

When it comes to friendship, I cant forget some of the companionship I am having with those wide souls-wide enough to occupy a guy like me. The visits with them are few and far between, but the closeness is selfless and intense. I would be anticipating to broaden my horizon maintaining friendship with more and more friends in days to come.

Obsession

Obsession is what makes people crazy about. Its good to be obsessed with the reasonable things but what if the fascination is associated with unrighteous deeds? I often hear people reluctant to leave their age old habits reckoning them as being indispensably important to their lives. Smoking and drinking are few of their attributions. But, why was I never obsessed to anything?

I have tried quite a few things in life but never got obsessed with them. I never denied my friends' request to share a puff for, I wanted to mingle with them, to prevent myself being alienated. I even went to the extent of buying cigarettes to ease the pain when life seemed hard and treacherous. This never happened but once while in plus two. May be that my faint heartedness played a part to escape from such an obsession. I tried beers, wines, vodkas, whiskeys everything. I cant forget an incident when the overdose of cocktail made me so wobbly that my eyes were having a tough time focussing on things and I ended up vomiting everything. But, again drinking and smoking have been like the occasional flash-floods: needing to wait for a whole season to come back.

Many men get obsessed with girls. They find it hard, if not impossible, to distance themselves from their shadows. It is understandably reasonable or inevitable considering the feelings associated. I have experienced both love and infatuations. Infatuations occurred a seldom times but love happened just a couple of times. The feeling of being in love was indescribably fascinating. The sweet memory of the time passed together made myself disappear in its aura, burying myself amongst her sweet memories. I could think nothing but finding the ways of making her the happiest among all, prosperous and dignified, to try making her proud of being my girl. But, yet again: that didn't last long. Deliberately, accidental or unpremeditated: the circumstances that led to the conclusion were beyond one's control. Neither she was obsessed nor I was obsessed with her. Nevertheless, the ripped off relation did harm neither to her, nor me.

Testing Times

Just read a news story on the Times about a Heitian girl being rescued from rubble from astounding 15 days of burial underneath her collapsed building. Her picture reflected an amalgamation of joy and ecstasy overshadowed by her lifeless body barely strong enough to blink her eyes. I could not stop myself but wonder how she could bear the burnt of the devastation of such an unimaginable scale. Faith, self-confidence and an immense will to survive might be the reasons that made her survive. Its vague to imagine the vastness of her thoughts during the period. Darkness, extreme pain, uncertainty of existence..even the masculine muscle would find it despairingly painful simply to think of, not to mention the experience.

I would like to compare here my fate with that of millions of starving stomachs, thousands of amputated limbs, millions of miseries. We people always grumble and complain about inferiority and feel disadvantaged to a number of spheres of life. We go to temples only to make our divines listen to our woes but forget the pain of millions. We have become so selfish and self absorbed to our lives that we care none but ourselves. Our eyes enjoys the sight of irrelevant things but doesn't bother to stare and think of the shrunken body of a starving child.

I can remember at least a couple of incidents when I could sense trickle of tears roll down my spirit. I can remember an old man carrying a huge sack of vegetables twisting and tumbling on the way. I remember a blind man walking along the lanes as a vendor selling scented sticks. I think of those number of porters with torn and dirty but glorious looking typical Nepali caps, waiting in vain for potential customers, far from their families. I am not glorifying myself expressing my judgemental thoughts, but can at least pride in feeling their anxieties within. People today have no time just even to think of their anguish and wretchedness. They think it is the outcome of destiny, the fate being written in advance. One is not born affluent or miserable. Some enjoy the competitive advantage while others are helpless to shape their stumbling paths. Lets think as a rational human being.

Enigma

Enigma- mystery, riddle, puzzle...this is what I thought my blog's ideal name would be. Unprecedented as it may sound...astonishing as one may feel...I happened to create it from the middle of nowhere..I still remember those lonesome days in office striving to pass my time out when it hanged heavy on me...it came into my psyche to do something creative..something that would make myself pleasantly surprised of my own creation- the outcome of my dint of hard labour..but the usual habit of procrastination made me think of doing it the other day which never came but today..

I want to keep my blog as my personal diary..I would not bother unscrupulous trespassing though. I want to draw the line of my destiny myself, to try to judge fairly the contributions I make towards shovelling my ungodly habits if existent, reckoning it from a broader perspective. Fanatic as I may sound, extremist as my thoughts tend to be, but I would rather call it my thoughtfulness rather arrogance. I have climbed the zenith due to sheer perseverance of myself, my nature of doggedness and unwavering determination to succeed. I have faced palm sweating and spine tingling failures and misfortunes also due to my own ill judgement and ignorance. I would thus rather call myself the author of my own creation- the best judge being myself. I would proceed further myself..as long as my limbs continue functioning and the blood continues rushing through my veins..

I would like to thank one of my friends here who inspired me to start blogging among my hectic schedules..Writing has always been my boyhood passion and a favourite passtime. Introvert and timid as I am, I love to express my feelings playing through words rather expressing through voice. For me, words speak louder than actions as opposed to the general conception. Misconception as it may sound, but I would love to do something comfortable to me rather going against my nature, faltering on the way. Good luck to me.