Gau

September 28, 2017 Friday They say: ‘Bad habits die hard’. I couldn’t agree more. But they never tell you what happens when those habits die, and you replace it with new good ones and then you reach a place where those good habits turn out to be the bad ones. I had my three straight years spend with Lil di shouting from her room: ‘ Bathroom bata niske pachi  Dhoka banda gar! ’ With time and her long-lectures, I finally developed the habit. I am not saying I mastered the skill, but I think I raised above to that level in which: I would know that I had forgotten to close the doors and before she shouts, I would have closed it. But here now I am in Gau. Things are quite different. Closing the door here is a capital crime because it confuses many whether the bathroom is in use or not. You must be wondering how silly of an argument this is. Let me explain it to you! We have the bathroom outside the house, those classic ones you see in the depiction of many Bollywood ...

September 27, 2018 Thursday I created the new word-file, put my fingers on the laptop, and I don’t think I ever came as close as to start writing by addressing ‘ Dearest Kitty’ ever before. Must have been the reason of reading this book “The Diary of a Young Girl” recently. This book gives me the mixed feeling every time I have leafed through its pages just like narrator of the book. When I started reading the book, the first thought that came to my mind was: ‘A 12-year-old chick wrote this!’ As I read further, the thought that came to my mind was: ‘That’s one really moody chick whom I would never date not even in my nightmares!’ But as I kept reading further, I started having more respect to the narrator, Anna Frank. The best thing of her diary is—she knows that she is moody and acknowledges later after re-reading her own diary that she had been immature, which I think is the strongest trait of people who are mature and interesting. I have only read the half way throug...

September 26, 2018 Wednesday I don’t think my friend Binita could have been truer when she said: ‘You should have an Instagram ID because Facebook now is dominated by Budhas and Budhis .’ What I see the whole day here is fingers swiping on the mobile screen. Not a single one here isn’t addicted to swiping New feeds in Facebook and posting random Nepali-thoughts in Nepali with the common word: awastha. My mother and father used to scold when I used to use facebook back then, but now they themselves are addicted to it. Thul Buwa, Thul’ami, hajur’ma, bhatija-bhatiji, dai-bhai, didi-baini— everyone addicted! I miss those days when all would gather together to gossip about the family next door, but now, none have time because they are all busy reacting and commenting in each other’s post. What my father did this morning, let me tell you. I was reading the book ‘ The diary of a Young-Girl’ when he called me. I asked him what it was. He said that he had posted a photo and he ...

25 September 2018 I don’t think I can justify today’s event with my words. There isn’t much you can expect from the article you read when the writer gives up even before starting. How can I elaborate such intense pain, sobbing, emotional break-downs when I was just there observing and numb? All I had in my mind were weird questions and answers! I don’t remember what they were, but I was constantly trying to get rid of them. I woke in amidst of noises. Not those noises that are found in Mela, but the one that signifies organizing of something. Well, it sounded so, because it was so. Arrangements were being made to take Thule ‘ma’s body to Mahakali. Thul Ba, uncles, dai and father had their head shaved. I didn’t do it. I just didn’t because I felt something awkward. I know what you may be feeling, but I had my reasons! I saw father  with his head and face shaved for the first time. Well, the second, but it was long ago, very long, when Hajurba died. When I saw father, I...

24 September 2018 Monday Thule ‘ma was lying on the floor with her son and step-son by her side. She was suffering—gasping, and was in pain all the time. Her health had deteriorated since last two days. She barely was able to drink water, which was being poured through a spoon as if she was newly born baby. Today none of us anticipated that Thule ’ma would make it any longer. There was crowd in the house since morning. It looked as if everyone was waiting for her to pass-out. Not that my family is cruel to expect so, but because there wasn’t much left in Thule ‘ma and she was suffering every passed time: it was difficult to find her nerves; her right-side of her body was paralyzed; she had lost her whole senses; her skin looked decayed-dark; she was unconscious of her body activities; miracle or death were only the options left for every well-wisher. It must have been around four. Thuli Daddy asked one of our family priests to start reading Geeta . Thule ‘ma still was ...

23 September 2018 Sunday It must have been very early in the morning when Nawle 'ma  was shaking me and telling me that I was half-naked and the fan was on and if I would want her to turn off the fan. I remember nodding and grabbing the brown sheet which was by my side and covering myself with it. I have no idea after how long did Kancha thul dad come calling my name to wake me up. And I remember asking just five minutes of more sleep. He woke me up anyhow and told me to go to Jhalari to pick up my brother, Babu dai.  I got control of my dismantled consciousness and woke up. I realized that I had let lights on in my room, which seemed rummy to me because I don’t have a distant memory of keeping my lights on when I slept. I looked outside, it was dawn, a little darker than that. I got my clothed-on, started the bike, set myself to Jhalari. Jhalari is about 7 KM away from Pitamber, add or subtract one or two kilometers. The road to Jhalari isn’t bad or good. It ...

22 September 2018 I am in Pitambar today, my gau-town. Well, yeah, I left Kathmandu on 19 September. I had no such hurry to come home. In fact, I was going to come after the Smart Club’s Election which was on following week. But I had to leave earlier. It is depressing to confess why I left. I don’t think I can confess here, especially if I am going to publish this in my blog. But you can imagine the worst: I did something, and my parents found out about it in the worst of the ways you can think of! I reached home on 20 th September, but quite early this time. I usually used to be home by noon, traveling home in a night bus is one of the most time-taking things you can do; and it has become more distressing every since the night-buses have been dominated by Super-Ac Night Buses. I am not saying they aren’t deluxe, but what I am saying is, they are uncomfortable and people who travel in it are stupid, simply stupid! I don’t know why they fancy AC on the bus. It is already so ...