A Evening at the Tea Shop

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(Based on true story but the characters are fictions)

There might be many motives to be in “Roadside Tea Shop” but the common thing that we prefer to say ourselves is “Let’s have a cup of tea”. Yesterday was not the different day. After a tiring day with Colouris’s Distributed System I wanted to have a cup of tea, I called my GRE freaked friends and by 6:30 we were in The Roadside Tea Shop. Simple setting with 2 sets of wooden diner and a white dolphin sets. A shopkeeper in his mid thirties, small, with black beard and fat belly is not an interesting guy nor is his tea. Despite that irritating face and tasteless tea it is our routine to be in that Tea Shop. We ordered 3 cup of lemon tea.

“Let’s have a sip of tea” Sam sweetens his face as if some alcoholic is hunting the beer glass.
“Sip of tea” I laughed.”Where did that came from huh, I think that thing in the glass is not Royal Stag”.
As we know for guys like us the only that will catalyze us for English chat is Royal Stag (sometime Khukuri rum can play the trick)
“It’s GRE!!! Boy” Rob smirked at me and with a confident look at his eye he said “And for your reference we don’t drink anymore”.
“See who is saying this, hahaha” I giggled. “I know you left drinking for dozens times in the past”
“This time” Sam pointed the index finger at me and after a little pause he grumbled “it’s true”. He utter that word “TRUE” as if he was telling something true for the first time in his life, slammed the table and take a sip of tea. I and Rob were shocked by his dipsomaniac act so we stared at him without a blink.
“What? Common guys, It’s just a lemon tea” Sam stammered, eyes wide open.
“I thought it was Royal Stag” And the loud laughter burst out in the Roadside Tea Shop.

Rob and Sam made themselves busy with their GRE memorizing some silly words. I was sitting on the dolphin chair at the corner along with my lemonade tea and trying to remember some of my Colouris’s definitions.
“Why are you silent Orthodox guy?” Rob hit me.
I smiled (sarcastically)”Why you saying me an Orthodox? Can you explain?”
“Orthodox: believing and following all the traditional belief, laws and practices of religion” he recited the meaning of Orthodox. “So you are Orthodox” They give five to each other and laughed.
“My ass, Orthodox” I shouted. “I know some English, don’t try to fool me, at least use your stupid GRE somewhere relevant”
“Who cares Bro, all we care is remembering a word” Rob laughed. “By the way Sam, what is the synonym for stupid?”
“mmmmmmmmm” Sam tried to remember.
“Idiot” I told.
“That’s too simple, it’s not GRE” Rob again laughed.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Sam shouted as if there was a fire in his ass. “I forgot it man, I learned it just this morning”
“Never mind” Rob smiled. “We gonna find it tonight and use it for you Kailash”
Sam raised his glass to make a toast and we joined with ours “To our own stupid Kailash”
I was freaked out. “Assholes” I muttered.
I raised my glass “To you assholes” I paused to think some word more relevant than asshole “mmmmm assholes, that’s fine and to your asshole GRE” they laughed at me but that was ok for me. I drank the remaining tea in a sip.
“I think you can define me, ‘What is Asshole?’ can you Sam?” I winked at Sam.
“Wait, I can” Sam nodded. “It’s a hole in a part of body that you sit on”
“Aaaahahahahaha Aaaaaahahahaha Aaaaaaahahahaha” And the loud laughter burst out again.

It was about 7:30 PM, time to hit our rooms. “Hey Rob, move your fat ass, it’s time to leave” I chuckled and punched on his arm.
“Don’t dare to punch my machho arms again.” He yelled. “You don’t know how many bottles of Carlsberg I have emptied to make this big”. He pulled his t-shirt up and showed his fatty arms.
“What?” I winked. “That dialogue is from a Nepali movie, so you started to watch Nepali movie, good for you man”
“What’s good in watching Nepali movie?” Sam said. “Look we spent 700 to watch that movie and I lost whole day, now I don’t even remember the synonym of “stupid”, damn it”
“Really, Sam,” I laughed. “You should watch English movie to increase your vocabulary, not Nepali movie, and especially not with somebody’s girlfriends”.
“Hey, she is not somebody’s girlfriend. She is our friends, but god gifted her with girlish character” he chuckled. “But not voice”
“Her voice isn’t that bad” Sam lowered his tone. He looked as if he was lost somewhere. I think he was trying to remember the meaning of stupid.
“I got an idea man” Sam said casually. “We need to watch English movie, let’s go and get one”
“English movie won’t help me with AI, Distributed System or NP, so I need to head home guys” I bid goodbye and walked away.

“Goodbye, goofy” Sam yelled from the other side of road. He finally remembered the synonym of stupid. I smiled and wend my way home.



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 23rd 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. 3rd 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 23rd August, so here comes another insignificant post INSIGNIFICANT 23.

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.

Capital Tempo and Sidewalk

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What does SMS stands for? ……….Short Message Service……… but people use the keypad as if it is a typewriter. SMS really sucks coz it’s a thing that take five minute to be written down and only ten seconds to be spoken. This isn’t my original idea, sorry for this and thank you Paulo Coelho for the idea. There are many things which don’t have any points yet we do them. I took around one month break (World Cup Break) from the blog and now have some new points to share with you.

Life in our capital; huh what to say? Silent speaks more than a word, doesn’t it? There are many occasion when I encounter with odd people and their offbeat deeds. Tempo: my fav transport is theater to these sorts of things. Everyday people stop a tempo and ask for the destination. What you think of this? I think this is too much. They look like high valued citizen and they never bother to look the board in windscreen of the tempo and they stop the moving vehicle to ask and let it go. What’s the problem with these guys? Do they have some sight problem? Or is your university degree fake?

Tempo part 2: people stop tempo and ride. What’s wrong in riding a tempo? There isn’t. But time and often there will be. They have time to ask the destination, but don’t ever think about the seat. They ride and they start to scold the driver for not having free seat. Who the heck told you to ride the packed tempo? They will certainly suffer for this (esp those who have back problem) more than that they will make others suffer. Their big butt that hardly agrees to get in from the door will fill the remaining space resulting suffocation inside. The filthy smell of sweat and dirt from armpit transform my fav transport into a gas chamber more dangerous than that was built by Hitler in 2nd world war.

Footpath: How often have you encountered bike running in the sidewalks of valley? In my case numerous. Do they have hardly any idea what the traffic rule is about? If no, why do you ride? We know there is no way we can walk on the road (though some of them do) that leaves congested sidewalks with minimarkets in its yard to make pedestrian their safe journey. And if bike overruns our trails where do we go. Hey hurried bikers please think about us.

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