So, I am back to Kathmandu, and I am feeling low. Missing home, missing my mom, dad, brother, and everything that is associated with being home. I come back to Kathmandu out of choice, and I don’t have a compulsion. So, I probably do not have the right to whine, but every time, as I cross the mayhem of Kalanki, melancholy seeps in. Probably everyone who gets back after a good time with family members feel the way I do at the moment. I think about the futility of all of this. Why is it important that we leave home to make a life for ourselves while we can have a life with our loved ones back home? Why do we need to have these dreams? Why is the city life so alluring? Is it the high-end eatery joints? The freedom? The independence? or just a state of mind?
As I think and ponder about all of it, I know that I want to be here as much I want to be home. May be when I get up tomorrow morning, I will feel better, and more at ‘home.’
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Reliving the past
It has been nearly a week that I came to Birgunj, my janmabhumi. Last time when I wrote all good things about Birgunj, not because I think it is an awesome place, but because I feel close to this place, for it is where I lived the happiest of my days, I got a lot of negative remarks from those 'Birgunj-haters' (I feel sad that there are many of them). Anyway, I am here, and it is always great being here, because it is home. I do not go around a lot when I am here, because I am too busy basking in the glory of being home, eating ghar ki daal, and sleeping without worrying to get up early to go to work (although I have piles of pending assignments lying on my bedside table :( )
Anyway, today was one of those rare occasions when I went out. I went shopping. Shopping for what? Vegetables. Where? The infamous vegetable market in Birgunj..O yea, it is infamous. Today it especially proved why it is infamous. It had rained all day yesterday, and those of you who have never been here cannot understand when I say it was filthy, really filthy. The mud, water, rotten vegetables, smell of bad fish, and not to forget sweating people...the coming together of all of this, in one place, made it the most unappealing place to be. But I was there, and I couldn't leave my mom there, to shop for vegetables all alone. So, I reluctantly followed her.
The market is nothing new to me though. The nostalgia of the place stuck me. When I was a kid, and a little old later, I used to accompany my mother nearly everyday to this market. We used to live very close to this place, and so my mom wanted to get 'fresh vegetables' everyday. I would dutifully carry the shopping bags, which would get heavier as we moved from one seller to another. I used to scorn at my mom for dragging me there, but secretly I enjoyed it. I enjoyed looking at mom trying to get the best potatoes at the best price, the greenest greens, the freshest fruits. As I come to think of it today, it was this ritual that made me a better shopper, because I learnt the tricks of bargaining from my mom. :)
As we entered the market today, I saw a lady selling cauliflowers, which was on our list as well. I pointed towards the woman selling them but mom didnt move towards her because 'she is very rude', was my mom's answer. I found it pretty amusing that my mom knew the woman, and more so, how she behaves. As we went from one 'sabjiwala' to another, I realized how the motion of life seems to have stopped for all those who are in this line of business. One of the shops particularly intrigued me. They are wholesaler of potatoes and onions. The man who used to handle the cash was no more there, and the place of the sauji was occupied by the man who used to weigh the potatoes/tomatoes for us, and his place, in turn, was taken by his son. Now, that was something. I kept wondering if the little boy, now a grown up, who used to savor his lollypop sitting in his father's shop, really wanted to do this-sell vegetables? May be he did, or may be he didn't.
When we were done shopping, we had two big bag full of all kinds of vegetables. My mom was leading, and I was following, just like the old times. On our way back home, I thought of those days, when my mom used to buy me a packet of popcorn (we used to get a small packet of popcorn in two rupees back then) as my reward for being with her and carrying the load.
Today, after my accomplishment at the market, all I wanted was to have the popcorn, and complete the full cycle.
Anyway, today was one of those rare occasions when I went out. I went shopping. Shopping for what? Vegetables. Where? The infamous vegetable market in Birgunj..O yea, it is infamous. Today it especially proved why it is infamous. It had rained all day yesterday, and those of you who have never been here cannot understand when I say it was filthy, really filthy. The mud, water, rotten vegetables, smell of bad fish, and not to forget sweating people...the coming together of all of this, in one place, made it the most unappealing place to be. But I was there, and I couldn't leave my mom there, to shop for vegetables all alone. So, I reluctantly followed her.
The market is nothing new to me though. The nostalgia of the place stuck me. When I was a kid, and a little old later, I used to accompany my mother nearly everyday to this market. We used to live very close to this place, and so my mom wanted to get 'fresh vegetables' everyday. I would dutifully carry the shopping bags, which would get heavier as we moved from one seller to another. I used to scorn at my mom for dragging me there, but secretly I enjoyed it. I enjoyed looking at mom trying to get the best potatoes at the best price, the greenest greens, the freshest fruits. As I come to think of it today, it was this ritual that made me a better shopper, because I learnt the tricks of bargaining from my mom. :)
As we entered the market today, I saw a lady selling cauliflowers, which was on our list as well. I pointed towards the woman selling them but mom didnt move towards her because 'she is very rude', was my mom's answer. I found it pretty amusing that my mom knew the woman, and more so, how she behaves. As we went from one 'sabjiwala' to another, I realized how the motion of life seems to have stopped for all those who are in this line of business. One of the shops particularly intrigued me. They are wholesaler of potatoes and onions. The man who used to handle the cash was no more there, and the place of the sauji was occupied by the man who used to weigh the potatoes/tomatoes for us, and his place, in turn, was taken by his son. Now, that was something. I kept wondering if the little boy, now a grown up, who used to savor his lollypop sitting in his father's shop, really wanted to do this-sell vegetables? May be he did, or may be he didn't.
When we were done shopping, we had two big bag full of all kinds of vegetables. My mom was leading, and I was following, just like the old times. On our way back home, I thought of those days, when my mom used to buy me a packet of popcorn (we used to get a small packet of popcorn in two rupees back then) as my reward for being with her and carrying the load.
Today, after my accomplishment at the market, all I wanted was to have the popcorn, and complete the full cycle.
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