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.

Ramblings of a frustrated citizen

I am happy i reached office without my fatfate getting stopped on my way to office. I am happier that I didnt have to push my bike in the middle of the road. The roads were relatively empty today with not many vehicles plying on the road, thanks to the irregular supply of petroleum products by NOC."Yo desh ma sabaila man pari garchan." So NOC has every right to do it as well, huh.


This is frustrating, really really frustrating. I get up in the morning, and I stumble after i hit the small table in my room because it is dark, because we dont have electricity, because we are going through a period when we have loadshedding for 14 hours a day, which means no electricity in the mornings, no electricity at nights, and when there is electricity, we are not at home to enjoy it. Irony.


In the bathroom, there is no water, because there is no water anywhere, because our ghar peti does not switch on the motor because when we have electricity she is not at home to switch on the motor, and when she is home, there is no electricity. Irony again.


How long are we going to live like this, like a poverty stricken bunch of people. Why is it that although we are paying Nrs 97 per litre (which is 9 rupees more than what we paid few months back), we dont have a smooth supply of petrol? How come NOC has all the money to declare bonuses and dividends when it is suffering from billions of losses?

Why is it that we Nepalese are ready to go through this pain of waiting in the petrol queue for hours without questioning our administration? How can we just accept not having water and electricity at home, and wake up in the wee hours of the night to fill our jars and buckets of water, and charge our cellphone batteries? Why is it that all we do is say "yestai ho, k garne?" We need to wake up and question. We might not get answers to all our problems, but at least we will feel good about questioning. It is our right as citizens, our responsibility too. Our government cant just get away with cheating us all the time, making us the victim all the time, conning us all the time.

Not even death could do them apart

And this time…I knew why the phone was ringing early in the morning. He left us because he had to be with her…I hope they are together somewhere, and looking over their kids.



We miss you maa and bauji.

Losing her

I lost my grandmom yesterday. This is my first experience of losing a loved one. I don’t know how to feel, how to react. When dad called me at 7:00 in the morning I avoided his call thinking that he must be on his morning walk, and called me in the wee hour just to ask of my well being. Thinking of calling him back later, I pulled my quilt over my face. The second time my phone vibrated with my aunt’s call, I knew something was wrong. The wailing sound on the other side of the phone made me jolt from my bed. I felt guilty for avoiding dad’s call, really guilty.

After a bumpy ride in a Tata Sumo for 5 hours, we reached Birgunj with teary eyes. Everyone was waiting for our arrival, for taking away grandmom from us forever. As she lay on the pyre with the red chunari, she was looking just too beautiful and too animated. We were waiting for her to get up and tell us that she is fine, and she is going to be with us for many more years to come. We were waiting for her face to light up and consequently lighting ours. We kept waiting when they took her away for her journey to a new world. “Ram naam satya hai,” they said. The music of the band playing outside told us to celebrate her departure. Just that, we could not.

I was given the responsibility of cleaning the house while they went to the ghaat. As I went upstairs, I looked at the vacant space where she sat every time I visited home. As I entered my room, I expected her to quickly follow me like she always did. She had so many questions to ask, about life, about work, about this, about that. So many questions, I would complain. She had this need for everybody to be with her all the time, not to leave her alone. But, no one would think of her need for being with her as her need to feel loved. Today, when everybody is here for her, it is ironical that she isn’t here to get our love, our affection that is finally coming out of us, something that was hidden deep in our hearts and we never realized it.

As I swiftly do the cleaning and organizing, I wait for the voice that would tell me to get the phone every time it rang even when I were closer to the phone and knew that I am supposed to get it. I wait for the voice that would remind me of the rules and regulations of the house. I long for the authority, the power, the spirituality, the faith.

How we would get agitated every time she saw the repeat telecast of every tele serial and how we would remind her that she had already watched the episode last night. Every time, she would say that “No beta, see this scene was not shown last night.” She monopolized the television set, and now the set lies in the corner, with no one interested in it. As I sit inside my room, the silence of the living room haunts me.

I have grown up with her. I feel guilty for telling the world that she cried when I was born. I have mocked her, I have hurt her. For all those times, I feel sorry. For all those times, I detest myself. How can I have been so mean and so unreasonable? She gave me all the love she could. I was her bitiya rani, the granddaughter she was immensely proud of. Every time someone visited our house, she had one story associated with me to share with everybody. She loved me. How could I have doubted her?

She was always the one in power, and we were so used to it that in her absence, we feel lost. There is sadness, but more than that there is this feeling of losing a guardian, who stopped us every time we were to take a wrong step, a guide who reminded of the little intricacies of life.

There are relatives, well wishes, neighbors, and others who visit our house all day long. Certainly, everyone has anecdotes to share about her. All of them are interesting. Some make us cry, while we laugh over the incident when she literally caned a thief who tried to take her possessions many years back. She was a gossip queen for me in the sense that she had so many stories to share about people that existed in her small world. When the tables turned today, all I could do was smile as I looked at her freshly framed photo.

January 7 2010

Conversations

I am sitting in my temporary office, and have been making an effort since the morning to complete the profile of a politician, but somehow, everytime I click on that document from the bar, my mind gets drifted apart. My concentration is getting wierd, I swear.

The other team members are here and we have been talking. We Nepalese are really opinionated and can really talk. I am actually enjoying the conversation, which is primarily revolving around the constitution. What will the final book look like? After 2 of the CA members died in two separate accidents, we are left with 599 members who will be responsible for finalizing the document. There are so many flaws in the draft constitution and my team leader just informed me that the most sensitive clause regarding citizenship is severely flawed even after innumerable discussion, debates, and what nots. In her words, "We are moving backwards in time." This is scary, really. The issue of citizenship is very sensitive, more than what you and I can understand.

We also talked about the most discussed issue of this decade (at least in our country), The Royal Massacre of 2001. How we three believe that Deependra did not shoot the family. Ha! As if our opinion matters. But nevertheless, we talk about it!

We also believe that NRNs should not be given with dual citizenship because once a person gives up his/her citizenship, that person should no more get the privilege of being a Nepali. We dont believe that a person can be Nepalese by heart. This is a democratic world and a person is free to chose the country s/he wants to live in, but the choice is limited. Only ONE country, my friends! We are happy that the government has decided to give them with identity cards rather than dual citizenship. O our friends around the world, you are now free to make "your" country prosperous through investments..we need them, truly!

We also talk about how our party leaders are manipulated by bideshi forces. I find it funny that how can one country's leaders be manipulated by outsiders. Strange world it is, really. Among the multitude of other issues that we talk about, I am most intrigued by the one regarding the organization called Monsanto and how they destroyed the lives of thousands of farmers in Indian states including Andra Pradesh and Gujarat. Mass suicides happened during the time, just because the notorious Monsanto tried to change India's cotton economy overnight. Do google it, and I am sure you will be baffled and taken aback. Monsanto has come to Nepal, and I am worried.

When I was thinking that I have wasted a day, I am happy that I learnt, a lot!

Social Media and Me

Well, I have been away from the virtual world for a while. There is no particular reason. I guess I felt a need to be away to realize that there is a world beyond this virtual world..the real world, where i can see my friends' face while having a conversation, rather than receiving the smilies and the superficial hahas and lols. I was kind of getting tired of them. So, I deactivated my facebook account. Believe me, it gives a sense of liberation to be away from FB. You have so much free and productive time for yourself. In my case, well, I have had no free time in a while, but otherwise, it can be great.

Just yesterday, I was reading the assignments of Voices of Our Future Applicants on World Pulse . The first assignment was on Web 2.0 and what benefits and drawbacks it brings along and what are the solutions. It was wonderful reading them. I am one of the Listeners for the program, and my job is to evaluate 5 assignments a week. Evaluations can be tricky and scary since you are writing someone's destiny. But i had to do it. Keeping the evaluation part aside, I was really impressed by what the applicants had to say. Then it dawned on me that its upon us on how we use this virtual world. We need to create our own space and manage it accordingly. So, today, I logged on to my Facebook Account, Clicked on Account>Edit Friends and deleted 150 people from my friends list. No offense to anyone, but I had to do it. What is the point of virtually befriending a person you dont know. Its bugging for both the parties. Their walls get filled in with my updates and mine with theirs. They or I should get updates of people who matter, aint it right?

And here I am, on my blog, writing about my feeling of liberation...Guys, if you share the same emotions like mine, go ahead and log on to your Facebook account. Do I need to give any further instructions? Chao:)