Broken bench and attached desk

This in short can be aptly called the story of a bench and desk of unique construction of joint-hood – behind the bench is attached the desk which will be used with the bench of another jointed bench-desk pair..So you dont sit and write in the same bench-desk pair, both come from two separate pairs .
One of such desks used to be “my area” till a week ago. But then one thing happened, on that particular day, three boys took hold of our seat and we three girls unwillingly had to take hold of other’s seat. But we didn’t hatched the idea of capturing other’s seat at once, we put considerable amount of force and tact to regain ours lost one. We pulled them, poked them, u can say we tortured them to leave that seat. But they didnt concede. So one of us squeezed in that bench, totaling the bench residents to 4. It was not comfortable, but we then did less to think about our comfort than to think about their discomfort. For that reason, there were four in there.Despite efforts not to do this, it had to be done too, that bench capturing thing and we did it, with some feeling of unease.
You might say, why not any bench? why that particular bench and desk?…Well i have a reason, because that was special to us..i had painted a red rose in that desk which by accident became a very popular graffiti. Everybody knew of it, and that i had drawn it.So,despite no ownership, we felt we owned that seat..And it is true to some extent because once when all benches were out of room, we got exactly that same one because of that rose..” because this rose is urs”…U see thats why we were so possessive about that one. And the caption ” For u my dear! ” beneath the rose was famous, or infamous thereof, beyond my expectation. Every once and a while there used to be a fat or lean man besides the rose in desk saying in rough and untidy letters: “thanku” which we rubbed and rubbed till the paint of the desk peeled off… We guarded that rose, afterall owners are meant to do that favor to the benefactors, right ? And let me tell you of the attempts made to vilify the sacred rose…. “dear” was tampered to “bear” and “my” was made “the”..and “PNS “was appended behind to read “for u my dear PNS” ( PNS is a very very fat, lazy teacher who is no good at teaching and who sometimes had not a single student in his class since everybody loved bunking his classes)…how mean..So by now you might have guessed what that bench meant to us and what we meant to it too.
Lets go back to that particular day..That day the lecture of a single subject ran 3 hours with our voices interrupting in the middle “sir pugyo aaja lai..voli padne” (sir, enough for today, we shall continue tomorrow”) ..But it continued un-interrupted except for a loud roar of laughter for some minutes in the middle of lecture. The reason: the bench attached to our desk broke..There were three sitting in that bench and it broke with a loud and somewhat elongated “creaking” sound. Indu held herself up catching the desk..else she could have landed straight onto floor with a “bang” !! ccrrrreeeeee bbbaaannngg…hehe..but that was saved for unforeseen future..But remaining two continued sitting there..in a sloopy bench ready to slide u off to ground..That was one incident we talked and still talk about since that day..
We grieved that loss of our desk after its replacement..I even wrote a condolence and pasted in our notice board..I had called for signatures to show solidarity to the loss..and quite a lot had signed. But some one teared it …too bad..why dump somebody’s creation..they dont have right to…Still, i believe its in Nepali blood to under-estimate other to your best effort, somebody “Nepali” teared it…
I couldn’t take picture of that condolence message but here’s re-written one ( till best i could remember “

Condolence
We loved u so. Though we stepped over u, scratched u, pinned u, hit u, tear u off, believe me, we loved u. We really adored u. It was so u ,never complaining always taking the trouble with joy for our ease. For that 7 months of togetherness, love, support, joy we pay our deepest and humble gratitude and thanks to u. Thanks for making it easier for us without a concern for urself. We miss u !! Rest in peace.. Loves

Neo-modern civilization and sleep

Sleeping early and rising early, its old fashioned. Diurnality is the faux pas and nocturnality is in vogue. Pulling an all-nighter or otherwise sleeping only when the sun is in the horizon is the neo-modern civilization in this internet-era.
The influence of this recent civilization is hard to let go unnoticed because its catching up with a big score of people. You might have called a friend at 10 in the morning and the other side of the phone might have transmitted ‘hello’ in that gruffly sleepy voice. Or many a times someone in your class might have reached late because waking up early at 9 and reaching college at 10 is extremely hard. Looks of surprise are converged at you when you claim to have woken up at 6 and that ‘i dont believe’ becomes the unmissable quote when you say ‘i sleep at 10′. Many urban youths today have this lifestyle, a lifestyle which in a way defies the rule of nature, of waking up during day and sleeping during night.
But this least bothers me. What is annoying is to learn that some just need 4 hours of sleep a day while some need full 8 hours. Not that sleeping more is detestable, infact just a few more minutes’ sleep is a bliss but when you fail to fit your routine into 24 hours and when you long for a day with 24+ hours this requirement of 8 hours of sleep totally drives you frenzy. Genetic disparity in moments like these gets short of being commendable and the idea of re-structuring the genes to be insomniac hits the mind one more time just to be discarded the very next moment because that restructuring would be like King Midas’s wish which eventually you would regret having been granted.
Because there is that joy in sleeping, in dreaming, in pulling up the quilt and nestling inside, sleep is so dearer to all of us. No matter how many doses of caffeine you take to keep awake all night in some days there are other days too when you sleep like a child, divinely, till all the goodness of sleep are absorbed, penetrated deep-down. Sleeping is like fuelling the mind, body and soul. Its all about the indispensability of sleep, be it in the broad day light or the pitch black darkness, be it the neo-modern way or the orthodox way, sleep plenty to revitalize yourself.

H-o-s-p-i-t-a-l H-a-z-a-r-d-s

Hospitals in Nepal are less where we are meant to be cured and more where we are meant to contract new diseases, thanks to the unmaintained hygiene and the visiting fellow patients’ negligence towards health care. The corridor is strewn with things that are meant to be disposed in disposal-bins. The bed sheets with patches of ointment or dried blood spots clearly show when they were last changed. If i hate green anywhere it wouldn’t be anywhere other than in the hospitals, i just loathe the green of those sheets and partition-curtains enveloped with dust and god knows harvesting how many bugs.
There’s no talking about loo either. That pungent ammonia smell collected from days and months of leaving it without cleaning will leave you feeling so nauseating and with pinching eyes in tears. No water, no basin, no latch and lock in doors…there’s no point in calling it a rest-room at all. It better be closed down. And the spit-anywhere( like pee-anywhere ) attitude of Nepalese doesn’t show any slowing inside hospital area too. You cannot walk without stepping over phlegm and spits all over the cemented floor.
Then there is that hustle and bustle and jostling crowd who push and push. Where to? No idea where they intend to. Waiting for ones turn is never in our blood. And those who attempt to push and are pushed all come for treatment, not one of them broods over that physical attack,however small of a little jerk might be, could cause immense pain to the one who is seeking a treatment (no no.. nobody is there for further discomfort) . Another point of concern when we crowd so much is the possible transfer of contagious and infectious disease. A moment’s thought is enough to give one enough insight about this possible danger, but who cares to think anyway. A hospital visit and your sneezing and scratching afterwards is not so uncommon, given these prevalent conditions.
Not only inside, the pathetic condition of hospital prevails outside too. Sit in the lawn outside and you are in the midst of skins of banana and orange, as if it is the dumping site: plastics, peanut-cones, cotton, bandage all around. Old habits die hard, and ours of tweaking plants hasn’t died either. No plant grows in the lawns of hospitals or along roadsides. They are just bare thin sticks, if ever they survive the constant tweaking. These all i think are the hospital hazards which concern many but unfortunate it is the fate of hospital that the concern of a few “many” alone is never enough, we need everybody aware and alert about the possible dangers it might inflict upon the lives.

Reviving theater,reviving art

Today I went to watch the play “Oedipus Rex” being staged at Gurukul at Old-Baneshwor . I can say literally the theater house was over-capacity. People every where, tight in benches and all over the floor. It was the 21st repetition of the play in a row today but it seemed not so. Most of them were students (95%). The crowd was amazingly enthusiastic . This isn’t the face of the youth i ever imagined, getting into plays and enjoying the stages. But today it forced me to rethink something. Is it because the stage artists have excelled in their performance over years or we are becoming connoisseurs ? Both, in my sense. There’s no denial that our perception towards art and life is changing. I have never been to a movie hall for a normal show but i like visiting gurukul. Its not that i dont like movies, its just that i dont like the ambience of a movie hall. For me gurukul is more welcoming and the art of stage play is something i really really appreciate. Now that i visit Gurukul often, i even more appreciate it. Art has no prototype or stereotype. Its the beauty of this art that every genuine creation is beautiful . Gurukul is serving best to breathe life into stage plays. Its not only helping plays but also art to be a part of every commoners life. And i am eagerly looking forward to seeing another play being staged there. Long live theater ,long live gurukul !!

Except for mondays each week, Oedipus Rex will be staged till Shrawan 14th

Ebbing Strength

Amid tranquility , sharp noise pitching with
increasing suffocation,
blurred senses,
blissful solitude

The solitude thickening with
ever-present confusion,
conscious emptiness,
regretful presence.

The presence weakening with
paralyzed creativity ,
misguiding innocence,
collapsing aspirations.

The aspirations dying with
seasoned blunders,
heaping failures ,
and escaping success.

Deathly death

When i am dead
ordeals may make you red,
but not a tear shall i shed,
because its death pain,
only such pain which onlookers feel all
but the sufferer none.

Sweet Tweet

World, far way from being a global village, is more a computer now . You can confine the world into that 15″ lcd of yours. And the social networks are playing inarguably big role to make this happen. The death of MJ spread so fast because “they found it all over facebook and twitter“…nothing strange about this. It seems that the whole world tweets now. Well , i too do .Twitter for me is like a mini blog. The daily events that touch your life deserve none better place than twitter. Its short, concise, interesting, smart and above all most regular, you post on a daily basis. Being able to convey precisely in 140 character or less is making me more eloquent. All into surplus that i am being a twitizen. ( hehe..these new words being coined are really interesting and funny ). Not to forget, the twitter page is so light and aesthetically pleasing ( those birds and whales look so delicate ) It loads easily even when your internet connection is slow . So once i get the internet anywhere, i dont miss to tweet. Its becoming sort of addiction round the globe. The twitter curiosity is ever increasing. An estimated 40 million are using twitter ( this is not authentic, just a rough estimate ), and i am one among that sea. So, fellas i might just tweet about this post i just wrote,howz that ?

Keeping busy with no job

Its strange sometimes that even in sheer pressure you can actually perform calm and composed. Take today. Literally, I had no time for anything. I was supposed to be rushing and make people rush too. Next,I have to prepare for assessments and to tell you its one of the toughest subjects of this semester and today i did officially turn the first page. I woke up not so early, usually these times i am very very early to bed and not so early to rise ( will this practice keep me healthy wealthy and wise ? ) So the time i woke up i realised that today wont be “the day” i actually planned yesterday. Still, no worries. I cut short the “to do list “. And my my my..i get lot of time spare on the day i was supposed to pout and pant and huff and puff. Good god. Since my eyes are playing a prank on me at the nick of time, i decide i wont do the reading for tomorrow’s paper. Umm… its little unfair, my sixth sense fore-tells , so i turn the first page . But here i am to cope with this “ratyeuli” music from the next block , that madal is making people thump and tap, but hell me, i am getting irritated. Better than losing temper ( you know , temper kills your cells and neurons, and i want neither, i want all of them intact ), i tried to sleep for some time with cotton buds on my ear. Thankfully, those oldies’ melodies didnt pierce my cotton buds. I slept. And now i’ve woken up and am busy with this LCD . The curtailed tasks and assessments havent reached my mind any time before unless it was for this post. Since i’ve edited my “to do” list ,it now has nothing listed as “to be done” nor anything as ” done “. So these hours to follow are all mine….and its hard time deciding whether i should see that movie in dvd buwa gave to me or…….join for once that “ratyeuli ” throng (nah ! that’s not my cup of tea) or stretch my legs outside for cool evening breeze …and oh yes , i can also skim through that course book for tomorrow. Anyway and anyhow, time rolls on its own , keeping me busy throughout the day without a job

What Next ?

The country is sweltering in tropical heat. The farm is drying up. We are expecting monsoon which is unlikely for a couple of days more. So, seems that the dry spell will dehydrate us to the last drop of blood. Inflation is just too much to bear up with. The political situation is such that it will give all of us diarrhoea. It is so shitty. Is being born a Nepali a curse ? I dont see no way out. Its always back to square one. To aggravate this , my assessments are queuing up and i dont feel like studying at all. And i am just so fed up with everything, i want to get on a world tour all my life, how does that sound ? I know it sounds like i am afflicted, does it not ? Whatever…

Generation next

Once people reach middle age, they start talking about the next generation, either because of envy or because of the disapproval of the life style of generation next. This has been a way of life, they cant remain without complaining and without comparing too. When they compare us with them we find them moon-struck, and when we do the same with our succeeding generation, we will be categorized as that same. It has been this way and will continue to be. The transition is a big leap, difficult to digest easily. So, this gap between the generations will never die-out. I can myself feel that gap between the 3-year-old me. He is so unlike me, i can feel that in his every steps. This is progression, i presume. And also nothing can ever be the same, if we are like them, then where is the variety to spice up the life. But this transition makes us feel the void in our life like it does in our preceding generation seeing us. Being like the generation next someday is just a forlorn wish. So, this disadvantage makes them complain. Despite knowing that this has been a chord of conflict between parents n children in families, this generation gap will always exist. However, the age gap demarcating two generations is shortening, it has almost reduced to a decade or so these days or even less. Dont you people think so ?