It has been more than a year that I have been living a life that I had always wanted to...and exactly one year that I shifted to the place I live. I still remember the day. I had felt so hopeless. I had wanted to cry out loud. Our previous landlord (who was an absolute jerk) had forced us out of the house and we were in a new place just after three months of living in the old place. I was in Pokhara when my roommates had to shift in a frenzy. When I came back and visited the new place, I did not know how to think and react. Everything was such a major mess. After my flatmates left to buy some groceries, I had silently wept.
I was missing home. I realized the cost one has to pay to be 'independent'. One year later, I feel more settled now. The 2BH apartment might not be the best apartment, but I have come to think of it as home. When i am traveling for work, I cant wait to be back 'home'. The mattress might not be the most comfortable one, but I still can sleep peacefully. (Except for the time when it was attacked by an ugly frog...ewwww). The food I cook might not be anything close to what my mom cooks, it still is something I have cooked and can eat it with pride.
Living on your own has its charms, and demerits. There are frustrating times, so frustrating that you want to tear apart. I moved out from my aunt's place to be on my own, to find solitude when I got back home after a long day, to live my life on my own terms, without someone deciding my schedule for me. But, the same reasons make me utterly depressed sometimes...to find myself alone when I get back home and to eat my dinners by myself. Dashain is around the corner, and obviously the roads of Kathmandu are jam-packed. It has been exactly five days that I have been getting stuck for hours amidst trucks, buses, micros, cars, motorcycles, taxis, and people. While during my trips to Butwal and Palpa, I saw very few people. This sums up the whole of Nepal's dream of a city, the dream of making it big in Kathmandu. Kathmandu is a roof to all of Nepal's budding dreams although it does not have much to offer. I myself have been a slave to this, so I have no right to complain. I am just trying to say that there must be so many people who are living a life like mine, and pondering over the life they have chosen for themselves.
As the seventh day of the festive season approaches, the Kathmandu roads will gradually get empty, with the dreamers heading back home, to enjoy the warmth that they have been longing for the past six months, to wake up to the clinking of their mother's bangles, and the cacophony of everything that is associated with home. They can get up peacefully without having to worry about preparing breakfast, dressing up for the work that they are not very happy with, and paying the grocery store owner and the landlord. They can afford to steal a couple of extra minutes after waking up, to smile peacefully at the world and their life.
Honestly, I am no different. I am waiting for October 2, to get on that bus that will take me to the place where I can be just be my mamma's daughter !
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Midnight sleep crisis
Tonight is one of those nights when I can't sleep. I remember mom complaining how she could not sleep at nights. I used to find it strange thinking how could someone not be able to sleep. But now I understand.
I have a lot to do today and for some funny reason, when I have a lot to do, I can do nothing. That probably happens with a lot of people. A friend keeps telling me that I need a vacation. I surely do. This month and the next will be a lot of traveling for me. In September, it is mostly work related, and in October I am visiting my sister's place in India. She gave birth to a baby boy 4 days back:) Everybody is happy, and so am I. Its a great feeling when sisters become mothers. I know it. I so want to be there with my sister and the lil one. That will be a real vacation for me. I am looking forward to it.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
About Home
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.’
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.’
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.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
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.
We miss you maa and bauji.
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