तीन सपना

तीन सपना

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बिहान उठेर मोबाइलमा औला डुलाउँदै थिए, फेसबुकले सम्झाइदियो उसको जन्मदिन भनेर। दुई लाइन शुभकामना खर्च गरे।तुरुन्तै उत्तर पठायो। “दाई अलि गाली गरेर भन्नु यार, चित्तै बुज्झदैन... मिस यु .. साँच्ची”। ओठ फिस्स फुक्यो हल्का हाँसोमा। मख्ख पँरे।एक मन सोँचे दुई लाइन गालि पनि खर्च गर्दिऊँ। तर फेरी सोँचे, हैन ऊ त अब्बल कवि भइसक्यो कँहा गाली गर्न मिल्छ। सरसर्ति उसको वाल हेर्न थाले। केटोले फेसबुकको भित्तामा पनि कबिता नै टाँस्न थालेछ। एउटा हरफमा गएर टक्क आँखा अडिए, एक छिन आँखा चिम्म गँरे र झट्ट लेखेँ, “ओई केटा, म तेरो कबिता सापट लिन्छु है”। एकछिनसम्म पनि उत्तर आएन।मन मनै सोँचे “हो ऊ त साँच्ची अब्बल कवि भइसकेछ”।

बच्चा बेलाका मेरा तीन सपना
फुटबल खेल्न लायक बन्ने
मिठो स्वरको गायक बन्ने
राजेश जस्तै नायक बन्नेविचरा 
मेरा सपनाहरु अचेल पनि जिस्किन खोज्छन् ।  
              -अमिर सुवेदी‘

तिमीले म्यारोडोना ह्याँड अफ गड गोल हेरेनौ?’ उसले बडो जोशका साथ सोघ्यो।
‘अँह’ मेरो उत्तर सुनेर उसलाई बिस्मातनै परेछ क्यारे नीले अनुहार लगाँऊदै भन्यो, ‘के फुटबल फ्यान हुँ भन्छौ यार जाबो म्यारोडोनाको खेल त हेरेको छैनौ ’। 
उमेरमा म भन्दा आठ दश बर्ष ठुलो भएपनि केही बर्ष यता उ मेरो जिग्रि बनेको थियो।२००८ को च्याम्पियन्स लिगको फइनलको रात म्यान्चेस्टर युनाइटेडले चेल्सिलाई हराएपछि स्तब्ध हुँदै उसको अनुहार हेरिरहेको थिए।मेरो निराशालाई केही कम गर्न ऊसले कुरा सुरु गरेको थियो। 
मन मनै गमे, साँच्चै हो कि के हो। तर मेरो के दोष ८६को विश्वकप म भन्दा एक बर्ष जेठो,९० मा म नै भकुन्डो भन्दा सानो अनि ९४ मा त म्यारोडोना को हो भनेर चिन्न नापाँउदै खान नहुने चिज खायो भनेर फिफाले म्यारोडोनालाईनै बाईबाई भन्दियो। 
आयो पालो ९८ को, आफ्नोमा नभएपनि छिमेकमा भने दुई ओटा टि.भी थिए। एउटा घरभेटी सन्किदा अर्को को मा भए पनी वल्डकप हेर्न पाईयो।केही जिदान, कोहि बाटिस्टुटा त कोहि माल्दिनी भन्थे, मलाई चाँहि रोनाल्डो को खेल गजबको लाग्यो र भए ब्राजिलको  डाइहार्ड फ्यान।
फाईनलमा ब्राजिलले भकाभक ३ गोल खायो, रोनाल्डोले त बल पनि छोएन राम्रोसँग। सार्है नमज्जा लाग्यो। तिनछाक सम्म तरकारीमा नुन आएन। तैपनि फुटबलले चै राम्रै तान्यो।

गाँऊमा  वल्डकपको रन्कोमा धेरै गेम हुन्थे। टोलको भाले बाजि त परै जओस मुला, काँक्रो बाजिमा पनि टिममा परिएन। कहिले टिमईन्ट्री को लागि पैसा भएन, पैसा हुदँ ढङ्ग भएन।टोलका केटाहरु कहिले  छालाको लागि त कहिले ब्लाडरको लागि पैसा ऊठाँऊथै, पैसा मिसाउदाँसम्म बल छुन पाइन्थो तैपनि किप्पर बसेर। किप्पर बस्दा पनि धेरैजसो त ब्याक्कीले सुट हान्दिन्थ्यो आफु त समातेर दिने मात्र। दुई चार रुपिँया थप्यो भने ब्याक्की सम्म बस्न पाईन्थ्यो। पैसा छैन भने त बान्नोमा बसेर हेर्ने
।रोनाल्डोझै गोल हान्ने त सपना मात्रै।
त्यहि बेला नवयुवा पत्रिकाले पेलेको १०-१५ पाना लामो जिवनी छाप्यो। कालो मोति रे, रगतमा नि फुटबल भएको मान्छे अनि पेले भनेको त झुम्राको बल खेल्ने मान्छे रे। 
रोनाल्डोको भुतसँगै पेलेपनि सवार भयो। 
सँग सँगै ९८मा साफ गेम आयो।नेपाल  फाईनलमा हार्यो तर हरि खड्का र वसन्त गौचन हिरो भए। मैले हरि खड्कामा रोनाल्डो देखेँ त्यसपछी त घरमा लगाउन हुने लगाउन नहुने धेरै मोजा पोको परे। पिँढी, आँगन र डहरमा धेरै पटक कुर्कुच्चो जोतियो, खुट्टाका नङ भाँचिए,नलिहाड ठोक्कियो। तर  पनि गोल हान्न पाईएन।
तिनताका दाईले SLC मा फस्ट डिभिजन ल्याए, गाँउले डक्टर ईन्जिनिएर देख्न थाल्यो मेरो दाइमा। 
त्यो सँगै भविष्यको  लौरो तेर्सियो म तिर पनि। 
गाँऊलेहरु सोध्न थाले'ठुलो भएर के बन्छस् कान्छा?',
दिमागमा फ्याट आयो 'रोनाल्डो'।
तर मुखबाट निस्किन नपाँउदै बा ले प्याच्च दिन्थे 'के हुन्छ र यो, दाईहरुको हलि, पढ्नु गुन्नु छैन दिनभरि झुम्रो पोको पार्दै हिँड्छ, तँलाई गधा'।
 हलीसम्म त ठिकै थियो गधा पनि बोनसमा मिल्यो।  
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“अब चोटहरुले बिथोल्दैन मलाई गहिरो घाउ छातिमै छ....”,
‘खै कति गहिरो छ देखा त हेरम ’, पछाडिबाट दिदिले प्याट्ट हिर्काइन।
‘ह्या यार कस्तो मज्जाले गाँऊदै थिए तेत्तिकै डिस्ट्रब गर्दिइन यार’।
‘गधाको जस्तो स्वर छ गाँऊछस् मज्जाले’मेरो खिल्ली उडाईन्।
‘बाँदरले आफ्नो घर पनि बनाऊदैन अर्काको पनि बनाऊन दिन्न भनेको यही हो, आफुलाई त गाँऊन आउदैन अर्काले गाएको पनि देख्न नसक्नी’ यति भनेर म फेरिघोक्रो तिखार्न लागे।
“मायाले यस्तरी मार्यो लौननि भुतुक्कै पार्यो यो सोझो गाँऊलेको छोरोलाई”
रेडियोमा सिजनै पिच्छे नयाँ नयाँ सुपरहिट गीत आँऊथे।‘ओराली लागेको...”, “फैलियो माया दुबो सरी...”, “हङ्कङ पोखरा..”, “छेको छेको देऊराली डाँडा...”, “यो गाँऊको ठिटो म..” त्यो सँग सँगै आफु पनिसिजनै पिच्छे सुपरस्टार। 
मामाले ईन्डियाबाट ल्याईदिएको फिलिप्सको रेडियो थियो घरमा। बा घरमा हुँदा त छुने चान्स नै थिएन। बिहानको संस्क्रत समाचार देखी साँझको घटना र विचार, र राति बि.बि.सी. सम्म समाचार मात्र बझ्थ्यो घरमा। बा नहुँदा चाँहि बल्ल छोराछोरीको पालो। त्यसमा पनि कान्छो म, दाई दिदी घरमा हुँदा त मैले रेडियोको  कान बटार्न पाउने कुरै भएन। कोहि नभएको मौका पारेर रेडियो खोल्यो अनि रामकृष्ण ढकाल, यम बराल, नारायण गोपाल जोसुकै घन्किए पनि छेउमा बसेर  जानि नजानि चिच्यायो।
'यो सम्झिने मन छ म बिर्सु कसोरी तिमी नै भनिदेऊ एएएएएए.....'
तिहारको बेला थियो भैलो खेल्नलाई टोलका केटाहरुले टोली बनाए। हाम्रो छिमेकका दाई ईन्डियाका लाहुरे भएर आएका थिए्। उनको मा पैसा झार्ने प्लन बनाएर गयौ। ऊनले कुच कुच होता हे को गित गाँऊने कोहि छ भने २० रुपैँया दिेने सर्त राखे।सबैले मुखामुख गर्न थाले। एउटाले अर्कोलाई तैँले गा तैँले गा भन्दै जुहारीनै चल्यो।   जसको आखाँमा हेरे पनि गितको भन्दा २० रुपैँयाको माया बढी थियो। जति कोसिस गरे पनि अगाडि जाने आँट त आएन। पछडि बाटै घाँटी सफा गँरे,'अँहम् अँहम्' । 
बिस्तारै गाऊन सुरु गरेको त 'तु तु तु तुम........ तु तु तु तुम' त्यो बाहेक केही निस्केन मुखबाट। 
सबै हाँस्न थाले।
'ओई रुमाल दे त घुँडो पुछम्' एउटो तोरीलााहुरे ठालु भयो। 
एक छिनमै सारा जोश गायब भयो।पछि मेरो छेउमा उभिएको अर्कोले आगाडि सरेर भटाभट गाईदियो।
'तुम पास आए युँ मुस्कुराए तुम ने ना जाने क्या सपने देखाए, अबतो मेरा दिल जागे ना सोता हे कुच कुच होता हे.....'।
त्यो पछि अगाडि गएर गाऊने कुरा त परै जाआोस् भैलो खेल्दा भट्टाउने सम्मको आँट आएन। पछाडि बसेर तालि पिट्दै  भैलिराम भन्दैमा काम चालाए।
तिहार पछि अर्को बर्षको लागि तयारी सुरु गँरे। निकै जोश थियो भैलोमा २० रुपैँया कमाउने।अर्को बर्ष लाहुरेको छुट्टिनै मिलेनछ क्यरे उनी घर आएनन्, म पनि भैलो खेल्न गइन। 
रेडियोमा 'तिहारै आयो लौ झिलिमिलि सुन हजुर भैलीनी आए आँगन' बजी राखेको थियो।म पिँढीमा बसेर सुनि राखेको थिए।
'ओई कान्छा त भैलो खेल्न गएनस्' दिदीले सोधिन्।
'पँहेलो बालीमा भैलो खेल्न हुन्न थाहा छैन तिमीलाई' यति भनेर म भित्र छिँरे।  
त्यो साल मैले भैलो नखेले पनि असिनाले पँहेलो बाली ठटाई छाड्यो।  

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शनिबार नेपाल टेलिभिजन टेलिभिजन हेरेर लेकिन, मगर, बस् जस्ता डाइलग हान्न थालेको दुई चार बर्ष भैसकेको थियो।नेपाल टेलिभिजनले साँङ्ग्रीला च्यानलको नाममा शुक्रबार राति नेपाली फिल्म दिन थाल्यो। कसम, भिष्म प्रतिज्ञा, सिमाना, भाऊजु, प्रतिक्षा,अधिकार, अवतार, देऊता, शंकर एक पछि अर्को गर्दै राजेश हमालका चरित्रले मेरो मनमा डेरा जमाऊन थाले। र बिस्तारै सन्नि देवल र अजय देवगनका १०, १५ फाइट भएका फिल्म पनि फिक्का लाग्न थाल्यो।स्कुल र बाटोघाटो मा हुने झिनामसीना छिनाझम्टिमा पनि शंकर, अम्मरे, कर्ण, गुरु बनेर  जाईलाग्न थाँले। जुल्फी बिनाको राजेश हमाल के काम? 
तर के गर्ने आफ्नो भने जुल्फीले  तालु छोड्न नापाऊँदै मास्टरले समातेर रिगाँइ हाल्थै तै पनि मनले काहिल्यै हार खाएन, असार र दँशै बिदामा बल्ल बल्ल तालु छोड्थ्यो जुल्फिले। 
यसो केहि दिन 'हे, शंकर हो मेरो नाम शंकर' भन्दै  टाउको झड्कार्यो फेरि स्कुल जानि दिन आँऊथ्यो अनि ब्याक टु त्यहि बुरुस कट कपाल।

टि.भी. को हिरो राजेशलाई हलमा हेर्न निकै पापड बेल्न पर्यो। अल्लारे पोखराको हलमा १०० दिन भन्दा घेरै चल्यो तर टि.भी. मा "रातो टिका निदारमा...." हेरेर बस्नु बाहेक मेरो केहि चलेन। त्यसपछी आयो साथी त्यो पनि त्यस्तै भयो।मेरो काकाको छोराले हेरेर आएछ। उ हुँदा उसको मुखबाट पन्ध्र पटक कहानी सुनेर मन बुझाए। ऊ नहुँदा 'मलाई पनि अङ्गग्रेजीमा बोल्न सिकाईदेउन..." भन्दै चित्त बुझाए। 
पनिखै केको हो आहारा दैवले पुर्याऊँछ भनेझै मेरो इच्छा पुरा गर्न पनि दैवको साहारा काम लाग्यो। ५६ सालमा हाम्रो ठुलोबा चौमास बसेका थिए, ठुली एकादशीको दिन साङ्गे, फुल तार्न गाँऊनै ऊल्टेर सेतीतिर लाग्ने भयो। मेरो काकाको छोरो र म त्यहि दिन भागेरफिल्म हेर्न जाने प्लान बनायौँ।घरमा सबैलाई नारायण हरीकै चिन्ता थियो, हाम्रो निधिखोजी कसले गरोस्। दँशैमा मामाघर गएको नि कामै लाग्यो, बाटाखर्च त आखिर त्यहि हो नि। 
फुल तार्न  सेती जानेको हुलमा मिसिएर बाटो लागियो। घरभन्दा निकै तल पुगेपछी बसमा फुत्त चढेर पोखरा टाप। पन्ध्र रुपिँयामा स्पेसलको टिकट काटेर विन्दवासीनी हल छिरेको  त भित्र त खुट्टा टेक्ने ठाँऊनै रैनछ। सायद सबैलाई  ठुली एकादशीले साईत जुराएछ क्यारे। पैताला उचालेर तिन घण्टा तन्केको तिन दिनसम्म पिँडुला दुखेर हैरान।
भित्र पसेको केहि छिनमा बत्ति निभ्यो। पछाडि दुई ओटा प्वालबाट लाईट आएर अगाडिको भित्तोमा ठोक्कियो। अनि ठुला ठुला अछ्यरमा 'माटो बोल्छ' लेख्यो।
हल भरि तालि र सिठ्ठीको फोहोरा छुट्यो। मेरो काकाको छोराले पनि उफ्रिदै सिठ्ठी फुक्यो। मैले तालिले काम चँलाए।
'जब जब धरतिमा अन्नाय र अत्याचार ले सिमा नाँघछ, राँको बल्छ हुरि चल्छ अनि यो देशको को माटो बोल्छ"भन्दै राजेश हमालले गाग्रीबाट पनि खन्याएर नुहायो। जिउ भरि माटो दल्यो र तरबार बोकेर मुला काटे झै गुन्डालाई काट्न थाल्यो।
'बाबा हो राजेश हमाल त साँचै खतरा रैछ यार'। बाहिर निस्के पछी बडो जोशका साथ मैले सुनाए।
'साथिमा झन कुकुरको फाईट क्या दामी थियो'  ऊसले साथि हेर्न नपाएको पुरानो कुन्ठा फेरी ताजा गराईदियो।
'यार हिरो हुनुत राजेश हमाल जस्तो' भन्दै घर फर्क्यौ।
त्यसको पन्ध्र बीस दिनसम्म वल्टै माटो पल्टै माटो बोल्न थाल्यो। सपनामा राजेश हमाल धेरै पटक तरबार लिएर नाच्यो।मेरो  राजेश हमाल हुने सपना भने स्कुलको बुरुस कट कपाल जस्तै खर्सो मात्र भयो कहिले लर्किन पाएन।

भ्याक्कु र डम्फर

भ्याक्कु र डम्फर

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ठ्याक्कै उमेर त भुले, तर म सानै थिए। सायद पाँच बर्ष जतिको थिए होला। मेरो उमेरका धेरै स्कुल जान थाले पनि म चाँहि हजुरबासँग कखरा र बाह्रखरी घरमै सिक्थे। हजुरबा चक लिएर आँऊथे, अनि मलाई आँगनका डिलका ढुङ्गामा लेख्न लगाँउथे। गाँउमा चाईनाका भयाक्कुले भकाभक पहरो चिरेर मोटरबाटो खन्दै थिए। स्कुलको हाफ छुट्ठिमा दाईहरु उफ्रिदै चाईनाको चमत्कार हेर्न पुगिहाल्थे। अनि साँझ बिहान घरमा भयाक्कुको माहाभारत बखान हुन थाल्थ्यो। आफुलाई त बा ले स्कुलमा भर्ना नै गर्देका थिएनन्, कसरी जानु भयाक्कु हेर्न। मनमनै सोच्थे भयाक्कु कस्तो होला। एकदिन बिदाको दिन दाईहरु चिटिक्क परेर भयाक्कु हेर्न हिँडे। आफु बिचरो कट्टु त राम्रो सँग समाल्न नसक्ने के को जान पाउनु। कम्मरका अड्नै नमान्ने कट्ठुलाई यसो हातले अड्याएर सुटुक्क दाईहरुको पछी लागेको, तर तगारो कट्न नपाउँदै सान्दाईले सुँईको पाईहाले। ‘ओ कटुवाल, तँ काँ जान लागेको?’ पछाडी फर्केर बेस्करी झपारे।

त्यसै त ठुला आँखा, त्यसमा पनि छल्किने गरी नुनिलो पानि भरिए पछी त के चाहियो र। एउटा हात ढप्लक ढप्लक गालाबाट झरेका नुनिला ढिक्का सुईटरको बाउलाले पुछ्दै, अर्को हात कट्टु तान्दै, सुक्क सुक्क गर्दै घर फर्केँ, आँगनको डिलमा न्याउरो मुख लगाएर दाईहरु कति बेला आउलान् र भयाक्कुको काहानी सुन्न पाईएला भनेर कुरेर बँसे। गाँउमा भयाक्कुले महिनौ बितायो तर आफ्नो भयाक्कु हेर्ने सपना कहिल्यै पुरा भएन। राती आमासँग, आमा मलाई पनि भ्याक्कु हेर्न लग्दिनु भनेर कचकच  नगरेको पनि हैन। तर म उठ्न भन्दा पहिलेनै आमा मेलामा गैसक्थिन्। घरमा आँबोई मात्र हुन्थिन, घरको कामले गर्दा मेरो कचकच सुन्ने फुर्सदै हुन्थेन।

  

यस्तैमा ठुल्दाईलाई एक रात मोटरबाटो बनाउने सुर चल्यो। त्यसपछी त दिन बिताउन के चहियो र! स्कुलमा साँतौ घन्टी बज्न नपाँऊदै बुर्कुसी मारेर घर आईपुग्थे दाईहरु। हाम्रो घर भन्दा पश्चिममा थियो ठाडिचौरी। ठाडिचौरीको छेऊमा बडेमान्को पिपलको रुख थियो, पिपलको रुख सँगै रातो माटोको ठुलो ढिस्को। गाँउमा आईमाई घर पोत्ने रातो माटोको लागी यही ढिस्को कोपर्थे। हामी केटाकेटी भने दँसैको पिङ्ग, शिबरात्रीको धुनि देखि लुकीडुम र भाडाकुटि जे खेल्न परे पनी ठाडिचौरी तिर दुगुर्थौ। कहिले काँही त दाईहरु पल्लो टोलमा केटाहरुसँग फुटबल म्याच पनी खेल्थे त्यँही। त्यसैले बाटो काँहा बनाउने भनेर सोच्चनै पर्थेन। उता गाँऊमा चाईनाले भकाभक पोखरा-बाग्लुङ राजमार्ग बनाऊन थाल्यो, यता दाईहरु घर छेउको ठाडिचौरी कोपर्न थाले। केही दिन बित्न नपाँउदै ठाडिचौरीको डिस्कोमा सिनित्त परेको नागबेली बाटो बन्यो। बाटो के बनेको थियो फेरी ठुल्दाईको दिमाग मा अर्को मिसन फुर्यो। ‘केटा हो अब गाडी बनाएर चलाउनु पर्छ’, ढिस्कोको फेदमा बसेर ठुल्दाई हामीलाई उकास्दै थिए।

म छेऊमा टुक्रुक्क उड्केरी मारेर ऊनीहरुको कुरा सुन्थे। उभ्यो भने एउटा हातले कट्टु समात्दा समात्दै फुर्सद नै पाँऊथेन। त्यसैले म जता पनि टुसुक्क बसी हाल्थे। ‘लौ अब  भ्याक्कु हेर्न पाईने भयो’, म त मनमनै मख्खै।

‘दाई भ्याक्कु बनाम् है’ मैले प्रस्ताव राखेँ।

‘बनाइस् भ्याक्कु’ ठुल्दाई बटारिए। दाईहरु पाङ्ग्रा बनाउनको लागी ढ्याक बटुल्न खोलातिर जान लागे।

‘केटाकेटीलाई खेलामा भुतले छल्छ, तँ घर जा, अनि आँबोईलाई केही नभन् है’ सान्दाई मलाई घर तिर धपाऊन खोज्थे।

म भने कुम ठोक्दै ‘नाई’ भन्थे।

ठुल्दाई नजिक आएर फकाए ‘घर गईस भने तँलाई गाडी चलाउन दिन्छु नी’, मनले नमान्दा नमान्दै फेरी पनि आँगनको डिलमा न्याउरो मुख लगाएर बस्नु पर्यो।

दाईहरुले खोलाबाट ल्याएका ढ्याकलाई गोला पारेर कुद्थे, अनि ढ्याकको बिचमा अलिकती थुकेर भिजाऊथे र काँटीले टुक्क टुक्क बिस्तरै ठोकेर प्वाल पार्थे। लौ दाईले त चिटिक्का पाङ्ग्रा बनाए। ऊता सान्दाई निगालोको डन्डि काटेर ल्याए। दाईहरुले निगालो, पाङ्ग्रा र काँटी मिलाएर चिटिक्कको गाडि बनाए। पाङ्ग्रा खुस्केलान भनेर पुरानो हात्ती छाप चप्पलको टुक्रा काटेर दुवै तिर पेची कसे अनि हेर्दा हेर्दै ठाडिचौरीको राजमार्गमा दाईको गाडी कुद्यो। दिनभरी घरी सान्दाई घरी ठुल्दाई पालैपालो गाडी कुदाई रहे। आफु भने जती कुँई कुँई गरेर पछी लागे पनी दिनभरी गाडी छुन पाइन। साँझ घर फर्कने बेलामा मेरो रुन्चे थुतुनो देखेर ठुल्दाईले एकै छिन डोर्य्याउन दिए। ‘लौ जा, गाडी छुन पाईयो’, मनमनै मख्ख पँरे।

त्यस पछिका दिनमा गाँऊमा पँहेला डम्फर, पिटपिटे(माटो बोक्ने सानो ट्याक्टर) पनि आऊन थाले। मैले भयाक्कु त देख्न पाईन तर डम्फर र पिटपिटे भने दाईहरुको पछी लागेर हेरेरै छोडे। पिटपिटे देखेपछी मेरो सातो गयो त्यसैले म दाईहरुको पछी लाग्न छोडे।घरमा हुँदा दाईहरुको एउटै ध्याऊन्न हुन्थ्यो: गाडी कसरी राम्रो बनाऊने। आफ्नो भने ध्यानै गाडी कति खेर छुन पाईन्छ भन्नेमा हुन्थ्यो। दाईहरु कहिले राम्रा राम्रा पाङ्ग्रा थप्थे त कहिले ज्यामिति बाक्स जोडेर डम्फर बनाऊथे कहिले ह्यन्डल थप्थे त कहिले बिचमा कालो पाईप राखेर मज्जको चार पाङ्ग्रे बनाऊथे । म सँधैझै छेउमा टुसुक्क बसेर पुलुपुलु हेर्थे। ढ्याकका पाङ्ग्रा बेलाबेलामा फुटि राख्ने भएकाले ठुल्दाईलाई निकै झिझो लागेको थियो। ऊनी निदार खुम्च्याएर केही सोच्थे। ठुल्दाईको निदारमा तिहारको टिको जस्तो काटेको खत थियो। आमा भन्थिन् दँसैको अष्टमीको दिन ढिकी जाँदा दाई पछी लाग्दै थिए रे, आँगनबाट खसेर लडेछन, अनि त दाईको निदारबाट तिहारको टिको कहील्यै हटेन। फेरी यसरी निदार खुम्च्याऊँदा दाईले अरु दुई चार ओटा खाल्डा पनि थप्थे। तर दाईले यसरी सोचे भने केही न केही जुक्ती त निकाल्थे।

नभन्दै दाईले जगबको आईडिया निकाले। हामी सबै डहर डहर थोत्रा हात्ति छाप चप्पल बटुल्न थाल्यौँ। यसपाली मलाई पनि सँगै काममा लगाए। म भने दाईहरुसँग काम गर्न पाएकोमा मख्ख थिए। बिच बिचमा म ‘दाई मलाई नि गाडी चलाउन देउ है’ भन्दै कन्याई रहन्थे। ‘चलाउलास् तनी, कति कचकच गर्छस के कटुवाल’ सान्दाईले गाली गरेरै भए पनी आश देखाए, ‘पहिले चप्पल त खोज’। म झन् कस्सिएर खोज्थे। तर मैले एउट पनि फेला नपार्दे दाईहरुले चार पाँच ओटा बटुली सकेछन्। घरमा अएर सान्दाईले चप्पलमा कम्पासले गोलो कोर्न थाले अनि ठुल्दाईले आँसीले मिलाएर गोलोमा पारेर काटे। हेर्दा हेर्दे मेरा दाईको गाडी त कहिल्यै नफुट्ने पाङ्ग्राको गाडी भयो। अनि ठुल्दाई कराए, ‘आयो गोरखकाली!!!, गोरखकली टायर बलियो गुड्छ सरर’। जहिले पनि हजुरबाको रेडियोले शनिबार शनिबार यहि भन्थ्यो। दाईहरु पनि त्यहि भन्दै दौडन थाले।

एकदिन आँबोईले ठाडिचौरी गएर बाख्राको लागी पिपलका पात बटुल्न अह्रईन, दाईहरु स्कुल गएका थिए। मैले मौकामा चौका हान्ने बिचार गँरे। सुटुक्क दाईहरु सुत्ने कोठीमा छिरेर खाटमुनिबाट गाडी झिँके, याति बेला सम्म त मेरा दाईहरुको गाडी चार पाङ्ग्रे, ह्यन्डल सहितको माज्जाको ज्यामिति बाकसको डम्फर भईसकेको थियो।

आँबोईले त्यो देखेर मलाई गाली गरीन्। ‘भरे ठुल्दाई आएर भुकुर्छ अनि था पउलास्’।

बल्ल बल्ल मौका पाएको के को टेर्नु नि आँबोईलाई।

‘म यो डम्फरमा ल्याउछुके पात’ म ठुलो कुरा गर्न थाले।

‘ल्याईस डम्फरमा, ल यो पानिखानि डोको लैजा’ आँबोईले डोको थमाइदिइन।

म डोको र गाडी घिसार्दै ठाडिचौरी तिर लागेँ।

‘तगारो सम्म छोड्न आउनु पर्छ ?’ आँबोईले सोधिन्। तगारोको मुन्तिर ठुलो हाडेगुन्यूको झाय्ङ्ग थियो। घरका ठुलाबडा हामीलाई त्यहाँ बाघ बस्छ भनेर डराउन दिन्थे। मलाई त्यो बाटो हिँड्दा पनी कता झाय्ङ्गबाट फुत्त बाघ आउने हो भन्ने डरले मुटु ढुस्स फुलेर आउथ्यो। त्यसैले तगारो कटाउन कोहि न कोहि आउनु पर्थ्यो। यसपालि त गाडी पाएको बघ साघ ले के को तर्साउन सक्थ्यो र!

‘पर्दैन, पर्देन’ म टिमुर्किएर हिँडे।  त्यसपछी मेरो मुटुलाई कहिल्यै पनि हाडेगुन्यूको झाय्ङ्गको बाघले फुलाउन सकेन। 

एकै छिन पात बटुले जस्तो गँरे। अनि दिनभरि मज्जाले नागबेली बाटोमा गाडि चलाए। दिनभरि भुर्र भुर्र र घ्याँ घ्याँ गर्दा मुखले पनि राम्रै काम पायो। दाईहरु स्कुलबाट फर्कने बेला भैसकेको थियो। त्यसैले दुगुर्दै घरतिर हान्निए। बाटामा एउटा चुच्चे ढुङ्गामा ठेस लागेर नराम्रोसँग पाछारिए। अगाडि हुत्तिदाँ, हातबाट गाडि फुस्कियो, अनि मेरो हत्केलो लम्पसार परेको दर्सनढुङगामा मज्जाले थेचारियो। धन्न चिउँडो र पुर्पुरो बच्यो। हत्केलो नराम्रो गरि झनियो अनि दाहिने खुट्टाको बुढऔँलाको नङ् राम्रैसँग थेच्चियो। दुखाईले आँखाभरि आँसु भरियो, अनि अगाडि को द्रश्य झल्याकझुलुक्क मात्र देँखे। पेट अमिलो भयो। यसो आँखा चिम्लेको त भरररर आँसुका डिक्का खसे। पाखुराले गाला पुँछे, रुन मन लागेपनि गाडीको चिन्ता रुन सकिन र उठेर गाडी खोज्न लाँगे। मेरी बास्सै! गाडी त दुईटा भएछ, ह्यन्डल एकातिर, अरु एकातिर। त्यसपछी त के को आँसुमात्र नि ओठ तालु सबै सुक्यो। होस हवास उडेपछी त के चहियो र दौडिदै दाईहरुको कोठिमा पुँगे। गाडी फुत्त खाटमुनि फ्याक्के। अनि केहि नभएको जस्तो गरेर पिडीको गुन्द्रिमा सुतेजस्तो गरे।

केही बेरमा दाईहरु स्कुलबाट फर्के, सान्दाईले यसो नुहुरिएर खाटमुनि के हेरेका थिए, मेरो हुर्मत लिई हाले।  

‘ओई कटुवाल, तैले भाँचिछ् यो गाडी’। ल भाई परिस फेला, मेरो मनमा त पहिरो चलिसकेको थियो तै पनि जसोतसो समालेर बोले। ‘मलाई के था नि तिमीहरुको गाडी साडी’, म अझ गुन्द्रिमै खुट्टा हल्लाएर सुतेको नाटक गर्दै थिए, कोठीबाट सान्दाई हुत्तिदै पिँडिमा निस्के। मेरो पखुरामा च्याप समातेर, जुरुक्क उठाए।

‘अझ नाटक गर्छस’ भन्दै झक्ल्याक झुक्लुक पार्न थाले। मेरो आँखाको बाँध टुट्न लागेको थियो ठुल्दाई आइपुगे।

‘छोड्दे छोड्दे यो पिन्चे हाँडीलाई’ ठुल्दाईले सान्दाईलाई थामथाम थुमथुम पारे। ‘अबदेखि छोईस भने तलाई जानेको छू’ भन्दै उल्टै एक थप्पड पो लगाईहाले। थप्पड पनि राम्रै बर्सेछ, तल देखिनै सिरिङ्ग भएर आयो। अनि त त्यो बाँध फुटाउन के चाहियो र!

‘त्यस्सै मलाई दोष लगाऊछ’ भुईमा खुट्टा बजार्दै ह्वावावावा गरेर मज्जाले रोईदिए। अगिको चोटको पिडा अझ निको भएको थिएन, त्यै माथी गाला पनि रातो, मेरो डाँको घर हल्लाउन पुगीहाल्यो।

‘हैन फेरी किन नारिएको यिनीहरु’ आँबोई च्यँठिदै भित्रबाट आईपुगिन। ‘तँलाई नछो भनेको हैन यिनिहरुको खप्पर, खाईस नि कुटाई’ आँबोईले एकैछिन दाईहरुलाई गालि गरिन् अनि म तिर फर्केर ‘तँलाई सानो गुजी भएर ठुलो गुजीसँग नचल भनेको मान्दैनस्, हिँड् भित्र’ भन्दै भान्सा तिर लागिन्।

दाईहरु भुटभुटिदै गाडी जोड्न थाले। म भने हुँक्क हुँक्क गर्दै लुरुलुरु आँबोईको पछि लाँगे।

त्यो दिन देखि मैले दाईहरुको गाडी झुक्किएर नि छुन पाईन। आँफै गाडी बनाउन पनि निकै कस्सिए। खोलासम्म ढ्याक लिन जानि आँट त थिएन त्यसैले घरमुनिको बान्नोका छपनी कुद्न थाले। बान्नाका छपनि ठस्का हुँदा रैँछन, एक चोट हान्योकी प्याट्ट फुट्ने। धेरै छपनि फुटे, धेरै पटक औँलो थिँचे तर पाङ्ग्रो बनेन। बाटोमा भेटेको हात्तिछाप चप्पल लिएर धेरैदिन दाईहरुको पछी लाँगे तर उनिहरुको रिस मरेकै थिएन। साह्रै भएपछी एक दिन आँबोई सान्दाईलाई भनेर पाङ्ग्रा बनाईदिईन्। एउटा सुकेको निगालोमा यसो तसो काँटी ठोकेर गाडी बनाए।

धत् पेचकस त राख्नै भुलेछु। यसो चार पाईला हिँड्यो पाङ्ग्रा फुत्त निस्कि हाल्ने। एउटा हातले पाङ्ग्रा सज्दै अर्को हातले हेन्डल बिनाको गाडी धकेल्दै ‘आयो गोरखकाली!!!’ भन्दै गमक्क परेर हिँड्न थाले।

Whiskey Lullaby

Whiskey Lullaby

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She was standing in the coffee bar and staring at me. Her absurd gaze made be uncomfortable so I just turned around to escape from her. She was in no mood to give up. She walked to me with her coffee in her hand.   

“Can I join you”, she asked with ease.

I was in no mood to have a company but how could I refuse a beautiful lady. So I just nodded.

“Are you expecting someone”, she asked, acting like carefree girl

“Not exactly”, I replied. And after a little pause I continued “Actually I was expecting some beautiful lady to turn on me and here you are”. I acted like a nerd and started to sip a coffee. She couldn’t help but smile. Now it was her time to feel uncomfortable. She tried to hide her face but my gazes were so fixed on her that she couldn’t remain without blushing.

“Damn it!! How can a girl be so beautiful when flushed?”  

She tried to start a conversation but I was so busy enjoying her flushed face that her mouth remained open without making any sound. She started to mend her hair but the cool breeze from the lake was not letting her gather them. She tried twice and quickly realized there is someone who is enjoying the splendid combination of cool midnight breeze and the hair so she let it go.

Is every evening on the Lakeside so romantic? Hell no.

I went for a minute or more observing the surprise package in front of me and sipping a coffee without uttering a single word.

She looked around and stood up.

“Yes!! I got you”

A delay of a sec and I might have lost her. But how could I? So I broke the ice.

“Kailash”

“What?” She stopped herself.

“My name”, I smiled.”Kailash, it’s my name”

“Oh”. She just stood there acting like she cares no more. God, these girls are an open can of worms. A moment ago she was desperate to get an attention and now when she has one she’s already finding a way to ask for more.

“You can join me”. I tried to flirt again. “By the way it was you who made my day”

“I think you are better left with your coffee” her sarcasm was no use because she was back on her chair.

“It’s not the coffee”, I gave a shot. “It was pretty lady in front of me who kept me silent” And guess what, I hit the bull’s eye. She smiled, and gushed with the mark of shyness in her face. After the little attempt of patronizing her I was there again sipping my coffee along with my surprise package.

“Okay”, I sighed. ”Do I have to plot another drama or will you let me know with whom am I sitting here in this cozy café “

“Uff”, she puffed. “I’m sorry, I am Shila” she drew her hand toward me.

No Way, I didn’t ask for this but who cares it’s a free scheme, take it boy

I thought I should kiss her hand but I satisfied myself with a hand shake because I realized there are already dozens of bellicose faces snarling at me. After all jealousy is a human nature.

‘What drives you to the city of lake?’ I asked.

‘I’m here with my friends’ she explained. ‘We’ll leave for ABC tomorrow, I’m so excited. Oh, it’s my first trekking; I can’t wait to see the Annapurna Range in front of me, this will be my best spring break’ she finished all her story in a single breath.

I looked around the café to see if there are any of her friends.

‘I’m alone here’ she mumbled.

I frowned.

‘Oh, I thought you’re looking for my friends, they are already dreaming’

I nodded in an agreement and took another sip.

‘You know this sound awkward but you are offbeat’, Shila spoke with confusing look in her face. She was not quite sure what she was trying to say. ‘I mean, it’s hard to find young guys like you on the coffee bar in lakeside, that too in the midnight’

‘Why? What’s wrong in having coffee?’

Shila Flushed mortified. “That’s not what I meant’

‘Don’t worry about it, I was just kidding’, I said. ‘I had too much last night and I’m trying to make up for that’

‘That means you are here for a weeding’

‘Actually not, I’m here for the release of my new book’

‘Wow you’re a writer’ she almost jump in her place.

‘Don’t jump so much, it’s not exciting at all’ I finished my coffee. She was still staring at me without a blink.

‘What?’

‘You’re a writer man’, she was still in shock.

‘I know’, I laughed. ‘You’re staying whole night in the coffee bar or will you head to your hotel for a nap’ ‘Okay, I had to have some sleep’ she followed me out of the café. I walked her to the hotel. She stare me more than a dozen times in the way. I realized her mind telling same sentence over and over ‘Damn, You’re a writer’. Before she closed her door she gently pushed me toward her, leaned around my neck, moved her lips around my chicks while her hair rolled around my neck. Once she finished her twinkle of romance. She whispered in my ears ‘I love writers’ and giggled. Before I could figure out anything else she shut down her door. There was a moment of silence between the slam of door and toc toc toc of my feet. My ear started ringing, my head started spinning and the word ‘I love writers’ started looping around my head. I walked away from there.

Couple of minute later I was in the Café Concerto asking attendant to make Margarita. The DJ mixer was playing Brad Paisly:

“She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette
She broke his heart, he spent his whole life tryin' to forget”

The flashback from the earlier night started to play in my mind. I tried to figure out how my dream day turned in a hellish nightmare. It was just yesterday before the release of my book:

‘Kailash’ Nisha said, her voice raspy, ’I can’t take it anymore, I’m sorry, I’m breaking with you’.

For her my being writer was a stupid thing, I was loose and worn out. It was not that I didn’t try to stop her but not a word of mine matters her. So I let it go. When everybody was drinking tight I was drinking loose.

I asked bar tender to make another shot and Brad Paisly continued:

“We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said, 'I'll love her till I die.'
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby”

 And I thought that made some sense.

  

The boy that smells mustard oil

The boy that smells mustard oil

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These days I have only 16 hrs of my own time, time to sleep, eat, movies, books, internets and other daily chores just in 16 hrs.
‘24 hours weren’t sufficient how could 16 hours be ‘
When I say so my brother has a good explanation.
‘It is not that you don’t have time, you have full 24 hrs but you utilize your 16 hrs full in bed that it looks like you don’t have one’.
So I had to rush when it comes to getting ready for the work. Last Sunday was not the exception. After rolling 10 hours in beds I finally got up at quarter to nine and the rush started. Bathroom, lunch, getting dressed all in 15 min. When I was out in the street the clock hits 9.

The road in front of my place was swarming with the school kids of New Shrine Academy (the neighboring school, few houses away from my place). When I got away from them, it is the black greasily road in front of bike repair center. And few blocks away yet another school (I haven’t figure out the name yet). The herd of school kids in red denims and white shirts at this corner of the locality always excites me. While the whole system is going crazy to destroy your culture you can pant with relief at this corner because you could find few boys in Bhadgaule Topi. Though I don’t know the story behind it, I feel good whenever I see these school kids wearing black cap.
In this bewildering crowd I found the boy around 10 on the other side of the road. He was walking on his own, caring little about the hubbub. He had perfectly combed side parted hair. His head seemed like it was submerged in the pool of mustard oil. Was he few steps closer I would have smelt the sharp scent of mustard? Seeing his head drowned in mustard oil, I was drowned in past. The flashback took me back to the school days; Saturday, mom washing me and applying a mustard oil all over my body.
My reminiscence couldn’t last long. The green Dio that appeared from the corner was a beautiful distraction. The white, cheerful face, with the black sunglasses and the hair descending down the helmet; propelling in the wind was making the scene picturesque. The herd of school kids was disrupting my eyesight. I didn’t have to worry much to get the glimpse of her because she blew the horn to clear her way and no doubt it cleared my eyesight too.
When she went past between us(me and the submerged kid on the other side), someone whistle at her. I looked around for the road side Romeos but there were none apt for the position. No one on the street had crossed the puberty except me. Soon it came to my knowledge that it was the job of under puberty guy; my companion on the other side. I was amused by his guts. I smiled at him. He shrugged his head and spread out his chest and winked at me.
‘Hahaha’, I laughed to myself. ‘Why should I hesitate when 10yrs isn’t?’
I turned my head along with the shoulder. When she was about to get away from my eyesight I felt the little crack in my waist. ‘ I thought I was being a jerk. To my surprise it was not only me who realized it?
‘Sale boka’, the boy passed the naive comment.
It was a kick in the teeth. I couldn’t believe his words. So I stretched my eyelid and folded the skin in forehead to pomp my surprise. But he was totally emotionless. He was whistling in his own unique style and when he realized I was waiting for some kind of answer, he stop his gaze at me and raised his head as if he was saying ‘Mula k herechas?’
I had absolutely no idea what to do. I toppled my head and turned my face away from his. Might be I was protecting myself from more shame.
He was walking without fear or favor across the street. However, I was stumbling on the other side as if I was completely drunk. I wanted to flee from him so I pick up the pace. The bike rolled down in neutral gear from the steep slope on the left side and stopped in front of me. It seemed that getting away from him was not that easy. I had to wait for the bike to move out. The middle aged man was carrying two school kids in his bike; one on the fuel tank and other behind him. The kids’ dress resembled to the dress of my friend turned foe on the other side of the road. The man tried to start the engine by pressing the start button.
‘Ghrrrr Ghrrrr Ghrrr’, no luck at all.
‘Oie Parajuli’ my companion on the other side yelled.
Nobody in the frame of my eyes seemed to care. I was wondering who might be the next victim. A moment of unanswered call had flustered him so he yelled again ‘Oie Oie’.
This time it was not easy for Mr. Parajuli (Whoever it might be) to get away from the persona of mine. Mr. Parajuli unveiled himself; the boy in the bike turned back and gave a nice little smile.
‘Ghrrrr, Ghrrrr…. And bhuutttt bhuuuttt..’ she did this time and they drove away.
‘Bike chadera hero huncha sale parajuli’ another callused remark.
Though it was not directed to me I thought twice before gathering the courage to peep at him. He was yet again emotionless and enjoying his walk absolutely with no sign of antagonism. I couldn’t believe how swiftly he could seal the emotion he had expressed a moment ago. If I had walked another minute alongside him I would have made fool of myself. So I fled from the scene.

Silence

Silence

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As per the plan I was waiting next to the Lions Gym, around hundred meters south of the Sankhamul Chowk. I pulled the cell phone from the pocket and had a look on the clock. ‘Uff, just 8:03am’. I breathe heavily and the gulp of air loomed around my face like the puff of smoke. Though the sun had graded through the scattering cloud on the east, the streets of Kathmandu were still arctic. Nothing to get busy with, I turned around; ‘Janakpur Paan Pasal’ on the left and ‘the Lions Gym’ on the right. But ‘Shrestha Tea House’ the board behind me caught the attention. I climbed couple of stair, dumped my bag and settled myself on the wooden chair. ‘Sauji, one milk tea’, I placed the order.
As Sauji and his toddler assistant was busy processing my order, I gazed across the street. Vegetable vendor were in the pinnacle of their business, trespassing half of the road with their cart and mobile shops. The remaining half was overflowed by their client (I mean the housewives) and the vehicle.
The teenage couple appeared from the crowd. The boy had silky hair; the perfect Korean hairstyle, and the I-phone in his hand (predictable style of teenage lads these days). The girl, who was in a college dress, was shivering with the cold and had pulled the sleeve of sweater to wrap around her palm to make a glove. As all her effort to keep warm went in vain, she pulled him closer by grabbing his arm and placed her hand in his pocket. Wow she found the better solution to fight with the cold (then a cup of tea like me). The boy gave a quick glance at her. The girl smiled in return, the textbook gesture to show the gratitude. It need not be said that he felt the warmth of her love; the comprehensible glow that arises in his face with contempt speaks it all. The girl pulled the ear phone from him pocket, put one plug in her ear and the others in his. Suddenly the romance fired up in the air. And probably the Justin Biber or Taylor Swift’s (they didn’t seemed to me the Pink Floyd type) playlist catalyses them.
On the background the middle aged gentleman came riding the classic hero rangers bicycle. He had scarf in his shoulder. Unlike the teenager he had perfectly combed side parted hair that reminds you of angry young man of Bollywood in late 70’s. The dabaang beard and the belly pant had spiced his Bollywood personality further. He was whistling and enjoying the ride. Despite his swarthy face, the smile and the pleasure he was having had made him substantially good-looking.
‘Trrrringgg Trrringgg’. He ringed twice but the couple didn’t care about it. And how could they when their ears were buzzing with Justin Biber and Taylor Swift. So he drove past them, turned around and stopped just in front of the couple. The couple almost bumped on the bicycle. The contempt glow of the boy a moment ago was now devoured by rage.
‘Sale dhoti aakha dekhdainas’.
The boy sneered like a wolf sneered to the deer. I don’t know why but I looked at the girls. Deep inside me was expecting the positive interruption from the girl. But she was reluctant to take a stage.
Boy’s face was glowing with the valor he had just staged, and why wouldn’t it if he had some gorgeous by his side silently observing him, to prove his chivalry to?
He grabbed his girlfriends hand and they moved on giggling and I was traumatized on the wooden chair.
‘How could he be so mean with someone about the age of his father?
The gentleman did not ventured to react; instead he tried to hide the humiliation he had just gone through. His gloomy and silent nod was enough for me to understand the mental state he was going through. The streak of bitter emotion had engulfed the cheerful face of his. His silence seemed so mundane that he was drinking this humiliation all his life. He balanced the bicycle by pulling it to the hoarding board. He had his own business, they had theirs; he opened the door of ‘Janakpur Paan Pasal’ and they disappeared in the crowd.

The bike on the other side of the road clanked the horn. I waived him and signaled to join me.
‘Sauji make it two’. I notified my host, ‘I have a company’. As my friend was crossing the road I sighed with relief. Firstly, the wait was over for me, and secondly because it was hell of a scene I had witness.

In spite of all the efforts I made, I could not in the least enters into the feelings of that gentleman and understand his sentiments and the silence he put on the show a moment ago. Had there been some Pahadi in his place, I need not have to imagine boy getting his face disfigured. Good for the boy it was Madhesi, bad for the gentleman it was the Jaundiced Pahadi kid.

Flip Love

Flip Love

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Couple of week back the vibration in my cell phone waked me up at 5:30am. I reached for the cell without opening my eyes.
‘Hello, are you fine?’ It was my mom on the other end.
‘Yea, I’m doing great’ though it was really annoying getting call at 5 in these chilly winter dawn, I tempt myself hearing the comforting voice of mom after a long time.
‘Did you felt the tremor?’ She was sounding weird.
‘Yes I did’ I was annoyed with the pointless talk she was making by calling so early.’ I always put my cell on vibration mom; if you call me this early I’ll fell the tremor?’
‘No No’ she was making me more confused. ’Didn’t you felt the earthquake?
‘What???’ I almost jumped from the bed.
‘Ok, Ok its fine, now go back to sleep’ and then she hung up.
‘First the call and then the threat of the earthquake, How can I go back to sleep?’ So I just closed my eyes and started thinking about the swift call that lasted for a few second. Why she hung up on me so soon? After screwing for a moment with my head I drew the conclusion ‘Move straight from your head to your heart stupid, it’s because she was worried about you after the earthquake and she didn’t want to kill your sleep after knowing you are safe’. I thanked god for putting on the lap of the great mother on the earth and rolled around my bed waiting for the alarm to beep.

On the flip side I have a different story. During Tihar, it was London derby (Gunners vs. the Blues) and you can guess how the Blue’s fan like me was holding in the second half. The third one from Van Parsi (and Arsenal 5-3 Chelsea) ignites my frustration, I threw the remote controller and the gentleman’s talk (muji Chelsea aja ni haryo) just slipped from my tongue in front of the dad.
‘How dare you talk like that in my house?’ Firstly he was unsettled with me for not letting him watch the news and secondly the quarter life crisis son was talking like a gentleman. So it was time for some serious stuff.
‘What did I do now?’ I was not sure about the words coz they just slipped.
‘You watch TV for the whole day without studying and how dare you show your big mouth (‘एक त दिनभरी टि.भी हेर्छ, पढ्नु गुढ्नु छैन, अझ मुखमुखै लाग्छ’)’ he was furious at me.
‘What?? There is nothing to read, I finished my college dad, and tell me what I should do’.
‘Go and Study’ is his best dialogue and for me it’s the one I hate most. Even after finishing the college he didn’t stopped to hit me with it. Weird isn’t it; your dad scolding you for not studying even after graduating from the college.
‘Just do something good, don’t waste your time watching this stupid football’. I didn’t know why he was blaming football.
‘You know what; you are never satisfied whatever I do’ I was losing my mind.
‘If I became second, you say why didn’t you became first and if I became first you say why didn’t you became board first, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, you never fell happy with your son’s success’ I banged the door of the living room and left.
Later at the dinner it was dead silence. I had no words left to unzip my lips after that altercation. Mom was busy with her chores. So it was up to dad to break the ice.
‘There is a story for you my son, do you want to hear it’. (कान्छा एउटा कथा छ, तेरो लागि; सुन्छस्)
I didn’t dare to look at his face nor did I care to utter a word. I went to feed myself and remained silent.
‘Ok, anyway let me say it’ and he started. The story went like this.

Once there was a famous writer who has earned name and fame. But the writer’s father always used to scold him for not writing a single good piece. Though the world praises him as the best writer, his father used to tell him he was bullshit. The writer was angry with his father attitude toward him, he thought his father was mad. He started planning a ploy to destroy him. One day when the father was in his room the writer waited outside with the sword in his hand. While waiting he heard his mother talking with the father.
‘Why don’t you praise your son for his good work?’ the mother was asking, ’you make him sad by undermining his work’.
‘Haha’ the father laughed. ’You know my darling, if all started praising our son he will run after the success and one day he won’t be able to write good. I always scold his so that he will always strive for the excellence’.
Hearing the answer the writer felt so guilty that he killed himself with the sword as a penance. And the world lost one of the best writers in the history.

Dad finished his story. ‘Did you like the story?’ he didn’t stopped to hear my reply. He left the diner and reached for the sink. Though my head was still bowing to pay respect to the food mom has made with quite excitement, I raised my eyebrows to get the glimpse of his silhouette. He opened the tap, rinsed, and dried himself with the towel. He was smiling at me when he left the kitchen. I was as dumb as the statue at the kitchen table wondering myself why these human in the form of father are so knotty. Why do you have to decipher the hidden love and care from their words? But it’s quite difficult because there is no universal algorithm to do it. And you are left without the clue wondering do they really care about you? Why can’t they call you straight and ask ‘Hello, Are you fine?’ or was it because the silent would connect in a way a word would never could.

Thus to conclude I say the love of the two greatest human being on the earth is a flip love. One express even though you don’t want other won’t even though you want.

Quarter Life Crisis

Quarter Life Crisis

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‘25/26 is not a nice age for a man’ the post appeared several times in my wall. ‘……25/26 is not a nice age for a man,…..Your ex-gfs are getting married,….. your career has just started…….Elders treat you as unproven theorems, ….. Every Aunty you meet ask “Shaadi kab kar rahe ho beta !!”, ……while uncle asks “Career ka kya socha hai beta…”,…….. You have all the confidence in the world but little achievements to show, ….. You know that whatever you have been taught about the world in schools has been sheer waste of time ……..’ I have heard a lot about a middle life crisis. But this is different; it’s not a middle life yet so for a reference let’s call it a quarter life crisis.

I remember my grandma citing an example of my dad and uncle wearing pants only when they were enrolled in college. Last month Nepali media published Prime Minister Dr. Bhattarai’s photo wearing a shorts while he was receiving an award of a SLC Topper. Seeing the photo in Newspaper my mom looked at me ‘See even the great man like Baburam used to wear shorts till SLC’. She took off the spectacle and gave a stern look at me ’what’s wrong with today’s youth! Whatever you give to them they won’t be satisfied’. And I hope my grandma if was alive today would support my mom. I am sure that my mom and grandma’s tone was why are you guys not like them? You are thinking of buying an Armani Jeans and you mom show you the picture of the great person wearing shorts and ask you to be like him.

‘Can we be like them?’ Great!! ‘Can be’ but the Getup!! ‘Hell No’. First thing he was not great when he used to wear the shorts and second how could you ignore the fact that we could be the great like him. The worst part is that the parents won’t believe in Quarter life dilemma no matter what you do. So I just laughed at her.

In the evening, it was a small family gathering and the newspaper on the table had a half page picture of Leaders signing a peace agreement. What more to ask for the gossips? But the sky is the limit. The gossip became a dialogue and gradually an argument. Happens every time when everyone thinks he/she is right. Dad and I had a tug of war. For him the peace agreement was great, for me it was bullshit. He was satisfied with the development and I was ironic. He strives for the social responsibility I strive for the money. He preferred cooperative I preferred company. For him agriculture was the backbone of economy for me it was technology. He wants road network I want a neural network. I want to work in the IT Park; he worked to build the PuspaLal Park (Park in the memory of Puspa Lal Shrestha the founder of Communist Party in Nepal). He sided with Gaddafi I supported Obama. I was sounding like a capitalist and no doubt he was a Marxist. Finding my ideas antithetical to his, he conclude ‘You have nothing, you are a zero’ and ended the conversation.

‘What!!! I’m different, does that mean I am a Zero’

I don’t know why he said so. Was it because I was really a zero or was it because I was a quarter life unproven theorem? The dialogue by Bhisma in Mahabharata ‘मे एक सुन्य हुँ जिसका अकेला कोही अस्तित्व नहि हे’ was ruling my mind ever since I watched Mahabharata few months back. Then I started believing myself as a zero. I even called it a Zero Anxiety. Today when dad gave his conclusion he hit in the bulls eye.

I didn’t have any concrete things to prove a theorem. I wished I could say ‘I have all the confidence in the world but little achievements to show’. But confidence cannot be shown and achievements; I don’t have. So I was in a deep crisis better to say in a quarter life crisis.

सिम्पल सिम्पल कान्छी

सिम्पल सिम्पल कान्छी

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Preceding three nights were quite rough; whole night digging into 3 books of card without blinking an eye and emptying the pocket without a good damn chance to win. So when the climax of Tihar came, the ending was sure to be forlorn: the evening of Bhaitika day, I and my blue visage left alone in the room trying to catch some sleep.

My laborious attempt to make up for those preceding nights was in vain when the stereo speaker started blaring on our front porch. ‘What the hell !!’ I wake up rubbing my eyes and came out doddering down the staircase. My god, the whole neighborhoods gather into our front porch. The banner on the side reads the name of Local Youth Club. And three damsel images were swaying in the heavily lighted porch to keep up with Gauri Malla’s classic Nepali number ‘Tiharai ayo lau jhilimili’. I pulled the chair and placed myself at the corner yawning and rubbing my eyes.

The MC guy started calling the name one after another. Dhinka Chika, Prem ki Naiyya, Shila ki Jawani, Taal ko Pani, Maya Godawari Ful Fulyo etc. The fusion of Bollywood and Kollywood was off-color yet jolly. When it was time for Shila ki Jawani my hangover was over and I was feeling rejuvenated. The girl shaked her butt well in shila ki jawani. I tell my mom that she won’t have to worry about cleaning the porch tomorrow. And she laughed. Thank God mom too loved Shila ki Jawani. The Dinka Chika Guys were funny, though they couldn’t do Salman’s 6 packs stuff but they did fine with their hands in the pocket and the whistling. ’ Taal ko pani’ lived up to the expectation of bringing the earthquake in couple of rector scales. Neighbor kid also participated in the boogy woogy.

The MC’s tone showed it was coming to an end. ’The last performance of today the Nepali dance esp. popular among the youth, I hope the old here also enjoy it a lot’. He paused for a while and screamed ‘Let’s welcome our friends for Simple Simple Kanchi’. I had heard the song’s snippet in a movie’s promo in Nepali channel and few friends in facebook had already mentioned it as weird. I had never got chance to listen the full songs. So I felt animated getting one now. I composed myself so that I don’t have to yawn for next 5 min.

‘सिम्पल सिम्पल कान्छी को डिम्पल पर्ने गाला, मन पर्यो मन पर्यो मन पर्यो मलाई मन पर्यो’……

…………सुटुसुटु आउने कान्छाको लुटुपुटु पर्ने बानी, मन पर्यो मन पर्यो मन पर्यो मलाई मन पर्यो’’

The whistling and clapping went for a minute or so. For me the song was funny, catchy and not so weird. I think that’s better than present days Bollywood’s Dhinka Chika or ChamakChallu. Unlike Chamakchallu or Dhinka Chika I can understand the wording of Simple Simple Kanchi. The MC called it a day by thanking all and bhailini packed their stuff.

Though they never bother to recite the Bhailini (anyway who cares whether they came to ask for Gunui Choli or Sent by Bali Raja) they were well appreciated. To conclude, one and half hour full entertainment and they did fine. When I fall back into the bed I was whispering ‘सिम्पल सिम्पल कान्छी को डिम्पल पर्ने गाला, मन पर्यो मन पर्यो मन पर्यो मलाई मन पर्यो’. The next morning I sat to write this. To bring myself in a mood I think of the song so I searched for ‘simple simple kanchi’ in youtube. 28 search result and at the top of the list the song itself with 53,256 views. That was not bad for a Nepali movie number and not for me as well because the evening which was supposed to be gloomy went tip top with ‘Simple Simple Kanchi’.

Highway 200K

Highway 200K

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Next day after Dashain, the world wasn’t awake and I was all set to leave my home to get back to the shitty Kathmandu. Loaded with two heavy back packs I took a taxi to the bus park. My ticketing agent’s foul play made me to travel in a mini bus and worst of all I had to pay double. What to do its Dashain for everyone. So called tourist bus was filled with few but intriguing foreigners.

The bus started off and the seat beside me was empty. You pay double, you get double, I felt lucky and put my luggage by my side, plugged the ear phone in my ears and relaxed. ‘So we keep on waiting, waiting, waiting on the world to change’ one of the John Mayer’s best was buzzing on my ear when the daylight pierced through the cloud and caress my countenance. I closed my eyes, felt the warmth of sunrise, took a long breath and the cold breeze form Machhapuchre filled every alveoli. When the playlist was changing, the panorama of Majestic Mountain was slowly getting away from the eyesight. Three Gurung Teenage girls were sitting in front of me. Their gossip was more interesting than my playlist so I just paused my cell phone’s media player and lurch my ears toward their conversation.

‘Did you know the guy who made iPhone died yesterday (ओइ सुन त, iPhone बनाऊने मान्छे त मरेछनी।)’ the girl on the front seat turned back.

‘Oh I see, that’s why the facebook was filled with RIP’, the second replied. She started luminous smile and start to comb her hair.

‘Yea you are right’, the first one clarified. ‘That’s why everyone was writing RIP in their status and I too did last night’ the voice was filled with the boastfulness and her face glowed with the glory.

‘Oie listen’ the third one: silence listener by then, poke her presence. ‘Sipora sent me the friend request on facebook, but I didn’t accept’

‘You did damn right; she is just a show biz, braggart fool’ (ठिक गरिस् तैले, कस्तो घमण्डी छ बाई त्यो पोजे त). God these girls are really something, I thought after I heard the terse reply from the first one.

There was more interesting scene to indulge myself with. The Blond foreigner couples on the other side next the Gurungs were in full mood. Series of kisses, it felt awkward to watch Hollywood romance live no matter how modernized you think you are. Thank god there were no elders on the bus otherwise they would have wasted their energy by cursing the blonds. As for me I couldn’t restrain myself without a comment. ’राम राम हेर्नेलाई भन्दा देख्नेलाई लाज’, and my others neighbor, The Gurungs on the front giggled. ‘Oie see the Khaire are kissing hehehehe’.

After an hour the bus pulled out, four passengers got in. It’s better to say four troubles got in. The melodrama of the finicky couple didn’t move the bus for next 10 min. The old women and a girl with them were watching dumbly.

‘No, no we can’t sit in the cabin’, ’How can we sit at the back’, ‘I need a window’, ‘we can’t sit apart, manage two seat together’ and ‘We can’t travel in this shitty minibus, we are paying for the tourist bus’. They went on and on. Everybody on the bus was watching them quietly.

‘You are travelling in the shitty minibus’ the guy next to me grumbled with frustration.

The women didn’t stop there. She kept on trucking for another 10 min. sometime calling their ticketing agent, sometime scolding the driver and the support staff. There was no sign they would stop.

‘You better charter a private plane, why travel in a bus?’ The previous guy next to me seemed angry. All four turned toward him. God their scary growl!! But he was also something, didn’t move an inch with four pairs of ferocious wild feline eyes.

‘Fuck you bitches’ I wish I could utter these words but I zipped my lips and waited their melodrama to end. Finally they settled, the two women found out the last seat, the husband took one in the cabin and the daughter came next to me.

The blond couple and other foreign got off somewhere near Muglin for the rafting. The drama queen and the old women took the blonds’ seat. The fat guy singled his daughter to come front. She took her belonging and left. He told her to seat by the side of the First Gurung teenage (The bald guy like Bruce Willis, next to her had got off for the rafting). And he placed his ponderous belly by my side. God he swaps her seat. Do I look a diddly? I was totally shocked and scrutinized myself from top to bottom. ‘What the fuck? Am I that gross so that a man didn’t felt safe to let her daughter sitting by the side’?

Entering Kathmandu Valley descending down Thankot is like jumping deliberately into the realm of wicked beings. As people say ‘Journey is what brings us happiness not the destination’ so thinking little about the shitty destination was the best for me. 7 hours and 200K was all it took to take me back to where I didn’t wanted to be.

Odds and Even

Odds and Even

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It was late night and we exchanged few email. I don’t know why I didn’t dare to open the chat box. But a couple of emails were enough to evoke an Elysian memory. There were no more high school slangs, no more nickname, no more haggling just formal words, and words enough to make you realize we’re grown up dude.

Half dozen autumns had passed since. As soon as I finished reading the email, I just lay in my bed, strolled my eyes absentmindedly on the ceiling and gave my brain a go to travel back in time. Image started filling the ceiling some haze some limpid. After a minute I took a long breathe, closed the eyes. I thought it would be really soothing memory but to my surprise I became a calculator. I was summing the odds and even of the couple of Autumn I spent back then with a grown up dude on the other side of the SMTP terminal. For me those two autumns were the perfect combination of balmy ambiance of sissoo tree swaying in the wind and the animated high school teen life. But now my own understanding has befuddled me. I started waging it on the scale of odds and even.

I enjoyed every tick of duel autumns. From classroom to playground, from hostel to dining hall, from my dear seat in the classroom to my cozy bed of the hostel I catch a glimpse of happiness in every instance. Study, game, programs, time pass, TV room, study hours, and PE classes I took all fun out of them. I think my even camp is full of high times. Despite this I know there are ample of occasion when I was what my dude called a prick (He said he was also one of it). Though I was not right up front, my unsatisfactory deeds on several occasions were enough to felicitate me with an adjective mentioned above. Undermining the existence of the other sect in the classroom, being boisterous on several occasions and ridiculing the fellow mates, I left behind these gross memories which will sum up in the odds camp of my scale. I wish my odds camp won’t be bulky coz I never enjoyed the adjective. I calculated my odds and even with a little assistance of the emails. And the conclusion: blah blah blah......

‘Knowledge, Character, Service’. I can’t say how much I excelled in these three endeavors but one thing for sure I did excelled in numbers of pals who will be forever there to share tenderness and warmth not only on the other terminal of SMTP but also on every details of life.

DK Bose and Super 5’s

DK Bose and Super 5’s

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The perfect set up for the long planned weekend seemed bleak when the week long rain never took an interest in subsiding on the dawn of Saturday as well. But the pray on the night before had done some tricks as the cloud started to disperse from the east showing void hope of sun. 7:30 in the clock and we were all set for the ‘Bhaag! Bhaag! DK Bose DK Bose Bhaag!’

I was standing on the queue in front of Cinema carrying a small yellow chit worth 100 bucks after a long time. As far I remember it was the first ever after the college. Saturday; Morning Show, God! It’s been 6 month since I last visited cinema. No more class so no more bunking and how can I do my attendance in the theater. The long lost feeling was again haunting my psyche. 2 hours total fun and when I was out just wanna say ‘‘Bhaag! Bhaag! DK Bose DK Bose Bhaag!’

Two hours with DK Bose was enough to spend the morning. What about the whole day? We made a plan to walk along the National Soccer team on the road to Brazil 2014. Qualifying round for the samba land was on the way in the capital and how can we miss it. We went to the room, hurried our lunch and get ready to line up for the ticket in the Rangasala.

Two hours before the kick off we were biding our time on the long queue outside the Rangasala with 200 bucks hoping the cost and the wait will be for the glory. I remember lining up several times in past and the thoughts were different then. I used to call them The Chicken Theory: at least don’t get hammered much. But now after the leap frog in the FIFA table my mind has fostered the new one The Buff theory: Go and kick their ass. And I with my gang was waiting outside along with the long queue of zealous fans to see our champs excel over Timor Leste’s.

I was one of the 15 thousands fanatics on the stadium with eyes wide open to witness the history in making. Small country and wee history but it was wonderful. And not to forget it took just 90 min to embark the one in the pitch. The Mexican Wave, the Fan Songs, the Clapping and the Yelling, Scolding, Rough words, Excitation and shittttt, Tips and Coaching from the stand. The 90 minutes passed in the blink of an eye with hackling, whistling and screaming. When the whistle blew off the side screen was showing the statistics 5-0. Those super fives were the best figures I had witness in my visit to Rangasala. What more you want? The hour’s long wait and the happy ending.

The two hours spend inside the theater and the stadium was equal

in duration but what can I say about the feeling they imparted in my minds. The best weekend I had spend in a long time made me go through the drastic transformation of emotion. The fokaad entertainment and the glory you’ll die for to see. The alloy of fokaad entertainment and the glory made my weekend. Not to forget the later one made by Buff Theory the winner. Now onward I’ll say Go Nepal Go, Go and Kick Their Ass.