भ्याक्कु र डम्फर

भ्याक्कु र डम्फर

✪ 1 comment

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

✪ No comment yet

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

✪ No comment yet

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

✪ No comment yet

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.