Insignificant 23

Insignificant 23

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Gandhi said that “whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it's very important that you do it. Because nobody else will”. That’s what I’m thinking now. Trying to do something insignificant, something nobody else will do or have done. I don’t think any of you got a clue what I’m talking about; don’t worry I’ll tell you. By 23, Gandhi had 3 kids; Mozart, 37 symphonies; Nadal, 41 titles; Messi, FIFA player of the year and here I am …………...(I also don’t know). Yes I’m 23 and I’m not that much genius that I could think of an insignificant deed. And about above paragraph anyone less genius then me also can find out that I stole it from a movie, but not all of it. I believe in open source so a little modification can make my work original.

Yesterday my mood was not really into cooking so I went to Baneshwor Chowk. The street kitchens are being popular these days and personally I am the great fan of street foods. Last time when I went for street food I had a horrible experience. Some stupid gal threw her trash in my foot. That was crazy. I was afraid that same thing might go again but it was just some other day. That day her apologies couldn’t cheer me up. But today one thing is bringing smile in my face i.e. she was celebrating her 23^rd birthday with friends.

World Cricket League Division 4: Nepal lost to Tanzania and USA so it couldn’t qualify for Division 3. The hope of whole nation to see our team in world cup was shattered on the very moment Nepal lost to Tanzania in group stage when they couldn’t chase the minuscule target of 118. Despite that Nepal won an insignificant match i.e. 3^rd place playoff with 10 wickets against same Tanzania. After the tournament I went through the profile of every team. And to my surprise ours was the youngest team in the tournament and the average age was 23 yrs.

Last week I got an invitation of facebook fan page named “Martyrs of Nepal”. Though I knew the most part of the story about four Martyrs of BS 1997, I read the post. And Gangalal Shrestha really swept my feet off. When I went through his Biography I was amused. How could he give his life for the insignificant cause named Democracy? Insignificant in a sense that nothing has happened in last 60 years of democratic regime. On Kartik 15, 1997, he and Dasharath Chand were shot dead in front of Shobha Bhagwati. And guess what he was 23 yrs old.

These insignificant 23’s are driving me crazy. As Gandhi said that whatever you do in life will be insignificant, so was that girl’s apologies, so was Nepal’s win, and so was Martyrdom of Gangalal. And today it’s 23^rd August, so here comes another insignificant post INSIGNIFICANT 23.

Walk In The Line

Walk In The Line

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The tap on my shoulder made me freeze for a sec. It was about midnight and I was walking through the dark alley just outside the old town and my intension was pretty clear: I don’t want to come across the passerby. It was unlikely to encounter one of them at this time and esp. at this location. I turned my neck, didn’t dare to turn my body. It was a young man, dark skinned, smoothed suited. He just smiled at me.
“Do I know you?” I just wanted to clear a doubt. “Have I seen you somewhere?”
“Back in the bar Mr. Kailash” He grabbed my arm and led me to the corner.
“Oh oh, easy man, easy”. I had no idea what was he up to. I was confused. “How do you know my name?”
“It doesn’t really matter, we know everything about you, about Ms. Kailash Who work in The Tetrand’s 2nd branch and the little Lampard of yours who is sleeping in his warm bed in Lamjung Hostel, 1st floor and dorm 2”.
“Youuuuuuuuuu”. My anger overcomed my fear. There was no pale complexion and cold chill of fear instead my ears were burning red with anger. “You touch my family I’ll kill you.”
“Look Mr. Kailash.” his grip became stronger pushing me with all his might in the wall. His cow look was really threatening. He pointed the index finger to me and grumbled “You’ll not publish the article you’re working in”.
“It’s my job, what you think I’m doing here? Watch and enjoy the mess you guys are making in this country”. My voice got really loud. “Go and give your fucking threat to some dumbass but not me”. I pushed him away and loosen myself from his grip.
“Don’t try to cross the line, better walk in your own Mr. Kailash”. His greeting with Mr. Kailash every time was getting in my nerve.
“I don’t have a line, Mr.…..”, I gave a pause hoping to get his name. He remained silent. I frowned a little.
“You don’t need to know who I am”. This time he forgot Mr. Kailash.“Then find one”
“What?”
“Your line Mr. Kailash”
He walked away and disappears along the corner.
This job of mine was really being pain in my ass. Shit what am I suppose to do? I’ve been working on an article for last six months. I didn’t know how I reached my apartment. My head was ringing due to the little Hollywood stunt that went with me back in the alley.
I didn’t turn on the lights. I marked the sofa, sat their and gathered my thoughts to find the promising solution. There wasn’t any. I was in similar situation many times in past and there wasn’t the solution. How could there be one this time? I thought about my wife, her work as a HR manager in London. I thought about my son, little Lampard.
The blaring of holy bhajan from the rooftop of my lunatic neighbor waked me up. My neck was twisted, head was bumping with pain and so does my guts. There was nothing more than to expect for something good. I had to move on. And this is Nepal. Had to move on.