Friday 13th Jesth

✪ 1 comment
48 hours to go off the clock for the constitution and we can see all the attention and hurriedness summing around New Baneswor. Tens of group gathering around the Convention Center with banners some are chanting slogans others making a circle and dancing. God! Look at these morons’; it seems that they are performing Karaoke on the street. The result; its predictable, first no matter how much drama you perform in the street you are not getting the constitution and second no traffic in and out from Baneswor. This time second one was annoying me more (Last year I loathed the first one). The first difficulty I faced after moving out from Baneswor to Koteswor was to go for the morning walk during office hour from Koteswor to Thapathali. And not to forget that my morning walk was only for the week; the week we Nepali were supposed to get the new constitution.

Friday 13th Jesth, alarm remind me of my Putalisadak Dream at quarter to 5, I freshened myself, dressed up and headed to catch a bus. My bad luck there was no public transport, I wondered why? I returned to my room and started facebooking. Around 7 I got the call from my parents and that solved my queries about the public transport. I tuned the FM radio and there was the hurriedness of desperate Nepali citizen to get the new constitution. Half dozen vehicles were torched before the day break and the strike was called for the day. About organizer, I have to count my fingers to get the exact numbers of them so let it be. By the time the scorching summer sun started its business of making human tandoori I redressed myself, packed my bag and started for the office. I knew my one and half hours journey on foot was going to be dull.

The main road through New Baneswor would have been less dull to explore especially on strike days, but today I preferred the duller one. I took the Bagmati Corridor to Thapathali. Once I crossed the small iron bridge near ANFA Technical Centre Chyasal I happened to encounter a couple of girls around 6 or so. Their tatty get up remind me of a GRE word; Ragamuffins. My visage lightens up seeing the bravery of my Cerebrum. I thought they were from the slums of Sankhamul. My thought of Bagmati Corridor being less interesting than the main road was proving wrong. Those girls were catching my full attention. They were hiding behind the trunk of the big tree. As I approached near them I heard the Nepali song ‘Haraye ma timro komal jhai nayan ma, timro tyo roop ko mohani ma haraye’.
Second girl grab the cell and asked ‘Do you have that songs’.
‘Which one’ the first one tried to reach for the cell but the second one stretched her arms away from her.
‘The song where Rekha Thapa takes a boat, she has a short hair…. That one k ’ She explain the plot of the song.
‘Oh I see ‘Sagar sari Chokho maya !!’
‘Yea yea yea that one, I love it so much, don’t you have it on the cell phone’
‘No I don’t, but my brother does. I’ll get it tomorrow’
‘Sagar sari chokho maya timilai deula’ the second one started singing and swaying her body with the melody. She circled the whole tree with her graceful dance.

As soon as I reached in front of them the first girl noticed me. She hurried to the second one, grab the cell phone from her hand, and hide her face with the both hands. Her shyness was something worthy to watch. Despite Her messed up hairs and face she was looking beautiful. The second one turned back as the music was brought into a halt by my arrival. She too noticed me and what more she couldn’t stand her awkwardness so she hurtled behind the tree by hiding her face like the first one did. And they both giggled behind the tree. By this time I have already crossed the tree. I couldn’t content myself so I turned back to watch them. They were spying on me by hiding behind the tree. My eyes were off the road and busy in capturing every moment of the girls behind the tree so I stumbled on the stone. I almost fell. This time it was my turn to get red. I heard the loud outburst behind the tree. I felt shy and didn’t dare to look them again.
‘Ok let’s go, mom will kill me if she know I stole her cell’ I heard them talking. They hurried and disappeared in the bushes.
I gathered myself and hurried my steps toward the office.

When the whole country’s attention was grabbed by the Karaoke around the Convention Hall, mine was blown up by those kids behind the tree. Can there be anything more beautiful and serene then to watch those innocent enjoying every moment of their life despite every hardship and poverty. Certainly not.
The whole day they ruled by brain and I felt rejoiced every time they came in my imagination. I was in no mood to spoil my happy mood so I put myself aloof from the media whole weekend. On the morning of Jesth 15th I saw the headlines on the newspaper hung on the bookstore that the tenure of the CA was added for next three month. What’s new in this? Nothing. That means I again will have to go for the morning walk after 3 month. Thank you 601 for thinking about my health. Because I might need it then as my belly has already started to add layers.

Pony Patriot

✪ 1 comment
Going through the Saturday edition of The Nagarik, I felt like getting laddu in both hands. The first one is 12 pages free in same 5 rupees and the second one is that it is dedicated mostly to books. Last Saturday we had a small gathering in my place so I asked a friend to bring Nagarik. After reading it I felt satisfied with the expenditure. Reading Buddhisagar is always funny and this time ‘Huss Guru’ was not an exception. I was so excited reading ‘Huss Guru’ that I was laughing at every line. I thought that was annoying my friends so one started watching music videos in my laptop and another one started yawing in my bed.
‘Sunko bala lauuni dhoko fukaunu cha rin ko poko’ the song was continuing in the background as I was reading and applauding every line.
The melody was brought into halt by the Rap. So my friend burst out.
‘What? ‘I took my eyes from the newspaper.
‘Nothing’ he continued his giggling.
‘Did I say anything wrong?’ I thought he was laughing at me.
‘No, it’s not you’ he controlled himself and continued again. ‘See this, why did he have to feature Rap in this song, he is making potpourri of Rap and Nepali, and this is completely nonsense man’.
I frowned at him, folded the newspaper and was ready to involve with him.
‘Is that so? Are you the student of music? Do you know what is Sur? What is Taal? I don’t think so, so how can you say it is a potpourri’
‘No but it sound so disgusting, listen him, he sounds so artificial’
‘Oh I see what you mean; you mean that he didn’t sound natural isn’t it’.
‘Yes, exactly’
‘I think he would have sounded natural if he had said ‘I wanna a fuck you’ like Akon isn’t it? I think speaking vulgar is natural in Rap don’t you think so buddy’ I was defending Avinash Ghising though I was not his fan.
‘I didn’t mean that way’.
‘Whatever, but I understood that he was using Nepali, and without any vulgar words so he was not sounding natural, mmmm I think he is making a potpourri of Rap’ I started laughing at him.
‘Nobody can talk to you, let me listen the song’.
‘Ok’ and I continued my reading.

Last Wednesday I had the similar experience in my workplace. One of my colleagues was playing Metal in his Chi-phone (Chinese version of I-phone). As I’m the country type of guy so the tornado in his Chi-phone was not making any sense to me. Suddenly the tornado stopped and I heard the guy singing a Nepal song. I was really wishing him to stop his chi-phone and now there was u-turn in the genre of songs he was playing. And that was my genre. I jumped from my seat and started singing.
‘Aankha aankha boleni maan sanga maan bolna baki cha’
Everybody threw their glare at me so I paused myself and slowed down to my normal gesture but I was still lisping with the singer.
‘Oie what happened to you buddy?’ the owner of the Chi-phone reacted.
‘Nothing’ I was back in my seat. ‘It’s just that I was really wising you to stop your chi-phone’ I replied.
‘And why were you so excited about the Nepali songs?’ he was asking me in condescending manner so I replied him with real pose.
‘Because I love the song and you know what, its more Pleasants than you bullshit metal’
‘Haha what do you mean by bullshit Metal?’ He was in no mood to give up.
‘Because you don’t understand a single word, and the music, god it’s a disaster’ I was getting more incensed with his blindfolded support to Metal.
‘Metal is not bullshit but this song is bullshit hahaha’ he started making mockery of the Nepali song. ‘Aankha ankha boleni… haha…. How can an eye talk man? .. haha.. what a bullshit songs’ his tone was getting more rude.
‘If so tell me the lyrics of the song you were listening before this’ I countered. My challenge muted him.
‘See you don’t even know the lyrics of the song and how can you say it’s a good song’ I felt like wining.
‘Go and learn the lyrics and talk about it’ I was enjoying his numbness.
And I started buzzing again ‘Jivan ko bato ukali ani orali samaunu haat maya timile’

To conclude, I never find myself in the bevy of patriots but sometime I enjoy putting some burden of nationality on my head. I rarely find myself defending crook nationality. Those were just a couple of occasion I became phony patriots.

Scofield Mania

✪ 1 comment
Finally it’s over. By this I mean ‘Scofield Mania’. I’ve been watching Prison Break for a year and I just finished it now. The moral Scofield taught me was more than the knowledge I could get from thousands books. ‘The fight for the freedom and the fight for your loved one worth more than the thousands battle fought in the human history’.

Getting along with the story I would like to start with the inception of this absurd mania. I was completely into television serial then with 4 seasons of Lost and 5 seasons of How I Meet Your Mom finished, I was looking for the next one. It was my friend from abroad who suggested me to watch Prison Break. Our cable operator didn’t broadcast ABC or AXN so I hurtle to every DVD store in the town but it was useless. I started googling the torrent for season 1, season 2, season 3. Everybody knows the speed of internet in Nepal. I waited weeks to complete the download. And what more it took me just a week to complete 3 seasons. I was touched so much by his heroic character that I went to the barber and trimmed my hair like Scofield. That was second time I copied somebody’s style. First one was Jack’s from Titanic around 10 years ago. But now with little hair left to comb like Jack, Scofield suits me more. Haha ain’t it funny? And about the final season, not even the google could locate the torrent. So I have to wait.

My wait was over after a year(last month) when my friend told that his boss had a DVD of season 4. So what? I asked him to borrow it from his boss. That’s how I completed the chapter of Scofield and his fight. More than me my junior from the college is a sycophant for Michal Scofield. After seeing season 1 he changed his profile name in facebook to Oggy Scofield and updated his status to ‘My name is Michal Scofield and I’m a fugitive’. I don’t know what Oggy means but the other part makes a clear sense. And last time I meet him he suggested a name for my son.
‘Ramesh dai you should name your son RJ’.
‘What does RJ stands for?’ I was curious.
‘It’s Ramesh Junior’ he laughed.
‘Haha you want my son to name like a Lincoln Junior (L J)’ I grinned at him. ‘I’ll think about it when I had one’ the big smiled came to my visage.

And there was a dessert of 1 and half hour in the form of a movie called The Final Break, I bought it and watched. It was the moody ending. I can’t imagine Scofield dead. But what more you want to see if he is dead. Its MJ i.e. Michal Junior the son of Michal Scofield putting flowers on the tomb of Scofield. I saw my melancholy face in the mirror when I completed the series. I don’t know why I became so fanatic about this series. It remind me of my movie mania when I was a teen in school. No matter how old I became I am getting more and more touched by these on screen fiction. Is it because I love fiction or is it because I am a real maniac or something else? I’m trying to find an answer.
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)