Monthly Archives: November 2013

say yes…

“marry me?” those were the words that made me smile.Well of course you were kidding then and I was aware about that! but that was really cute; for the fact that it was our second or third conversation (back in my head i was like- either you are too stupid to be saying this or boy you are too darn good at flirting :P).Thinking about those not many days that we had for ourselves now confuses me, I am not sure if I should be sad that we are not together or happy that at least we had our share of happiness.

Your words definitely hypnotized me and made me say “yes” every time you asked “marry me.” … No doubt we were crazy. The best part of the craziness was I was falling in L.O.V.E with YOU. We joked, we flirted, we talked, we laughed but I, only I fell into the beautifully decorated ditch full of love.

You were my prince with shining words(not swords).

P.S. No any regrets!!!



fairy tale what?

                                                 images (3)That fairy tale-like- love story I believed to be  mine was never mine. The pretty princess in that drop dead gorgeous gown whom I reckoned to reflect my true self was definitely not me. No need to spend words describing my knight in shining armor of that story as obvious it may be, it was not you.It was after turning pages after pages of that thick dusty old story book that I realized… it missed my favourite line “… and they lived happily ever after”.

The V day!

“Samanupatik” and “Pratakshya” – two words for the day. Before I get to the story hidden behind those two amazing words, I so want to share my first voting experience. Even before that let me talk about my picture in my voting ID card, only if I could, I would lock it in a box and bury it or if I could burn the ID and again burn ashes of it… that is how much I loathe the hideous printed picture of myself (even photoshop and instagram would fail to win the make-my-face-seeable mission, I look that much hideous). Enough about myself I guess, well! I was not sure if I would go and caste my vote, I logged into facebook and the newsfeed was flooded with you know what – everyones’ magnified thumb with purplish blue mark (like a manicure horribly gone wrong) and their updated status – voting for the first time #nepalvotes… I voted what about you… feeling wonderful voting… blah blah vote… vote blah blah… Yes! I should not be saying more, you must know all about it.

My mother is wiser or lazy , I don’t know which? You guys decide for yourself. She said “kaha ailey dekhi janey vote halna, deuso tira janey ho, line basnu pardaina.” So, me, mom and my sister left home for voting at around 2 pm, everyone were walking in groups, talking about today. Mobiles and cameras were restricted in the voting centre so, we handed our gadgets to dad and went to the centre. Damn the rules, I could have got a picture of myself voting. I entered the gate and guess what? I felt like walking down the red carpet (ignore the fact there was no red carpet, well in fact no carpet at all) … every pair of eyes were examining us, as we were the only voters there… hehe(thank mom) we did not have to stay at line but were confused kata janey, if we were early atleast we could have followed others like sheep 😛 . Well, the guard said which line we were to go… Mom lai “ga” and dd ra malai “kha” line ma jau bhanyo. I searched where that stupid Kha was, but the stupid glue had come out and the letter was hidden with almost khasna lako paper written Kha. Then I took out my stupid hideous ID card and showed it to the volunteerS (big S as there were many men checking on the same thing two times thrice.) Well, you all know how this all goes, sab jana vote halera nai ako hola.

Then one of the volunteer says “dd bahini ako raicha ta… mukh ustai raicha dubai jana ko”. (Thank you Mr.Idontknowyou who thinks we look alike which we don’t. I guess the volunteers were bit bored resting their bottom at the same bench since whole day at same spot. They were making small conversation. It was not their fault to get me wrong as the elder one because I look giant than my sister. I was so freaking nervous already and they talking was not helping me. I took the big blue paper and went through all the signs, and then I was like “I was to vote samanupatik ma and pratakshya, which one is this?” the feeling was just like exam bela ko, having two confusing sure answers for same question. Then I hit the stamp in one sign (I am not telling which :P) … then it was Niki’s turn to, she shouts from the booth – “ oi yo kun chainey ho?” I had no freaking idea to answer. It was like blind leading a blind. Then I took the pink paper with so many signs, this time I knew it was samanupatik wala turn but I forgot what it meant. So, I thought for a while and hit the stamp to the same sign.

After we came out of the voting centre, I asked mom and Niki what they did. And guess what, they turned out to be just as much stupid as I was. Atleast mom should have idea about the word “samanupatik” and “pratakshya” as this was not her first time voting but she was still confused. Bato bhari we kept on discussing the right definition for the words. I wonder how many of us really are aware about correct voting process and more importantly whom to vote as we hardly know our candidates. We know more celebreties of other countries than the people responsible for our country, I don’t blame others but myself for being ignorant about this. I felt bad that I was so careless for not doing simple research about the voting process. I felt like a Nepali citizen for the first time when I held that pen like stamp with swastika sign, I for a second felt that feeling of responsibility. I swear to myself I will be responsible about my rights from now on. That stamped vote was not as easy to drop like any other paper in the dustbin… it felt precious!

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All twenty six of them!!!


I have crush on the curves of the letter  “S” , love how the lines go up to the sky and touch ground and repeat again when you scribble “M” ,feel dizzy when I go round in circle and fall down when I struggle to make small letter “a”. Wonder myself why I love writing every word in lower case than the mighty upper. It’s sad how you have to put them front at the line of every fresh sentence. Not being more wordist (something like racist, alright bare me even if it is not a proper word),I would love to tell you my love story with not just one single letter but all twenty six of them! (I bet there is no such thing like one-man-one-letter). When I glue all those individual letters and they make some words, I stash them together and make sentence and seal it with a full stop. Sometimes, I put them all together in a bundle to make paragraph out of them. If the letters behave and are in proper manner, I treat them by making sweet stories.

Seriously pick it up !!!

While you are walking alone, you can entertain yourself by playing a game- a guessing game that will be; you can guess which brand of wrappers or simply plain plastic bags you will encounter on your next step. Trust me it is quite fun and you won’t know how soon you reached your home but be careful and stay alert about the vehicles as well. Well, this is what I did today on my way back to home- Kwiks cheesball , Surya churoth, Waiwai, Chatpatey-ko-papercone, kalo rang ko polythene ko chyatiyeko jhola, rato rang ko nachyatiyeko jhola, top biscuit ko wrapper and what not. Actually, the whole road was like big lengthy hoarding boards advertising all these brands.

Just to remind you, all I did was glance at those colourful plastic wrappers and just glance, nothing more; I didn’t dare ( care won’t be appropriate word here, cause I cared) to pick up those “fohar” and dispose it in dustbin. Even if I dared, there were no dustbins nearby, and I guess I am still sane enough to not make fool of myself carrying those garbage to my home. I am not trying to say anything to anyone cause we all are same. The interesting thing was when I reached my home, afnai ghar agadhi plastic paper haru fyalirako thiyo and I stepped in that fohar and entered home, smiling to myself.

Mangalbazar! The best hangout place ever (I bet everyone agrees on this statement). You and I , infact everyone of us enjoy the magical sips of tato tato chiya from the “plastic” cup and merge into endless guffgaff. The only thing that bothers me are the stupid people who are so darn stupid to leave the cups and not care to throw it in the dustbin. So, I humbly request  all to be a bit responsible about the place you adore so much.

Bagmati fohar bhayera, kehi garna naskaney awastha ma pugey jastai let us not drive Mangalbajar also in same state.It is just a matter of time, pahila kosley socheko thiyo ra Bagmati ko testo durgati huncha bhanera. It all starts with a small piece of wrapper you recklessly throw, that extra minute of shower you take, that extra minutes of electricity you waste while charging your electric gadget pals.

Everyone of us are aware about every single line people keep on preaching about environmental conservation. We are Mr/Ms. Know all! School bela we memorized every points on that topic, we passed that subject with high marks but why we no change our attitude??? Why we so STUPID ???

Not necessary that you go on picking on arko mancheko fohar but atleast make sure you don’t litter around.The best advice! Even if you don’t have this good habit, atleast make sure your young bhai bahini learns about this. Cause if they are taught about this, trust me the roads will be clean in next few years. You yourself think why would that be.

I grew up reading lines in my book, “baatabaran safa rakhnu parcha, jathabhabi fohar garnu hudaina” but never did anyone make me clean the surrounding , let alone punish me for littering around. If only I had developed that habit from young age, I bet I wouldnot have hesitated to pick the fohar lying on the ground…

P.S. If you catch any of your friend picking up wrappers on ground, please don’t tease them and demotivate them.!!!


Bottled Stories

I have so many stories jammed up in my head like the wooden cork stuck to neck of wine bottle, waiting to be pulled out and let the crystal sparkling wine fall graciously to bottom of that shining glass. I am sure, I will feel the same feeling of that bottled wine opened, not worrying about being broken  anymore; once those stories are told, I will have nothing to hide, every words unspoken will be said and heard.

Mmm… just like the sweet strong aroma that gently hits your nostrils when you first drive off that jammed cork out of the bottle, ditto! the warm memories grab my heart just at the centre when I run down the memory lane to collect those stories of my past.(Well, some not only grab but even tries crushing it ).I remember myself trying to taste only the sweetness of the wine and not think about the bitterness that comes along; because I love wine, I embrace how it really tastes,be it bitter or sweet. I guess that is why I remember all the tragic minutes just as much I memorize every beautiful seconds of my stories; afterall they are all fractions of my whole story and makes it all complete.In those stories, I see my whole life sparkling  just like that wine in tall clear glass with shiny edges!


click click :P

Hi, I am Nija Maharjan and I am a selfie-addict. Moreover, you can replace “am” with “was” as I am hell better now. Previously, I suffered with this addiction of clicking one’s own picture; at the beginning the effort was too much – I had to use the camera phone, bend my hands in every direction to get the perfect shot and only after many shots, there would be one good picture, no matter what the end result had to be “profile picture” ready. Back then, the term “selfie” was still not introduced, people used the phrases like “self obsessed”, “kaam napako”, “pagal kt” and what not. Now, the front cameras in your mobile phones have brought revolution in this “selfie world”, taking pictures now is a piece of cake.

It is really easy to identify the selfie fanatics; all you have to do is check their profile pictures, that album will be flooded with faces taken from different angles with almost same expression. I know this is sad but only few were able to stay safe from this addiction. To make it worse, instagram came into the scene; and hence making selfies viral. I don’t know facebook’s cover photo helped selfies or is causing much trouble; how it has helped? Well, if you are really confused which photo to upload among two best shots, you can make one profile pic and the other cover photo. Trouble how? Well, you cannot keep similar pictures as profile and cover photo; it has to be different. Hence, the trouble of going through all the tedious process of another great selfie when previously(before cover photo), one picture would have worked well.

TO and FRO

I was on my way to Teaching Hospital, Maharajgunj to see my cousin who recently had an operation. (Sorry Krisha, but I was more excited to ride Sajha bus for the first time than seeing you, I know you are cursing me… I deserve it, I know but I guess you would feel the same if it was your first time on Sajha). Well, ignoring the fact that I waited an hour (alright alright I just waited 20 minutes, I can’t lie cause I had a strong witness) at Pulchowk, the green beautiful four wheeler arrived, I was nervous to see it (like it was the decorated car with my dulha in it). Then I make fun out of myself, listening to my friend and waving the bus to stop, not thinking that it was the bus stop and would stop anyway. Keeping my empty nervous mind aside, I step inside; then I look around and I spot an empty seat (just like my head, kidding!). I take the seat and try to act normal, when actually I was so freaking excited. I was so busy looking around that I later realized there was a TV, I felt like I was in a moving movie hall (well, I know I am over exaggerating but the experience was so special).

While waiting for the bus, my friend had asked “Do they still give tickets?”. I texted him “Yes, they still give tickets.”, as soon as the conductor dai handed me the pink ticket and moved to next row. In my head one song was playing on and on “sajha bus ma jo pani chadhda cha, … le dui rupya ko ticket katdacha”. I looked out of the window, trust me when I say the roads, footpaths and people somewhat looked different from the seat inside Sajha. I did not care the fact that it took me more than sixty minutes to reach Teaching hospital. Well, I had no idea what to do with the ticket, I reckoned we were to give it back to the conductor and he would tear it like in movie hall but that was not how it worked.(Thank god, I got to keep the ticket! Hehe… )

Then I went to see my sick cousin sister, I was telling everyone about my Sajha experience. What I had thought would be a simple operation turned to be pretty big one. Her face was all covered with white bandages, she could barely move her head. I felt sorry for her, it was hard for her to even speak. Since we were kids, I have always been a friend to her (I tease and poke her all the time, I know not how to be serious n grown up to her). Me and her other friend were teasing her, what my sweet sister did was replied us without having to speak. Despite of her sickness and weakness, she raised one finger for us (you know which!). After exchange of affection, I examined the room. Everyone had either their nose bandaged or their throat or head roughly covered with bandage and yes not to forget, a bag of drained blood connected to them. Well, I decided to bunk in with my aunt that night, just beside Krisha, yes! On the floor (cold floor, mind it but also mind it the floor was taken good care of, we (mostly my aunt) made a decent bedding out of carpet and blankets for the night. (Awh how much I love my aunt. :P)
The patient was no trouble, so we had sound sleep. Ah! I missed few other things before the morning happened. My friend Srijana who is a nurse there got me snacks and a novel for the night stay. (Thank you Sri!) I started to read the novel but had to turn off the lights when it was only 10. I must have looked intelligent with that thick book in my hand that I was carrying. For those who don’t know, I am much big fan of Grey’s Anatomy, I always talked hospital talks with Sri with few technical words I am proud to have learnt from the 8 seasons. Knowing that, she took me to her work place and showed me around. I was like, “Grey’s Anatomy ma esto hunthyo, eta kasto cha?” and blah blah…hehe, and I checked few doctors, man they are young! (but not as dashing as surgeons from the series)

Well, Sri and I returned back home together; make a guess which mode of transportation did we choose?” Yes! the one and only Sajha. The experience back was much interesting than the previous one despite the fact it was my special first time. All the seats were taken, so we were on our foot; then the conductor dai calls us in front “Dd haru dui jana eta aidinus agadi”. The next thing that happened was out of my imagination, he made the guy sitting in reserved seat for women stand up and made us have the seat, I was shocked. I was like, “Is this really happening cause I’ve never seen this sort of thing before.” I felt respected. I was impressed by the Sajha system, how it was abided by the rules. It made me see hope. How you may think. It made me realize, if there can be change in transportation system with all managed facilities, soon there will be day when the whole country will run smoothly like Sajha.
A great experience, 3 tickets (I took Srijana’s as well), a topic to write about and an optimistic feeling…my achievement traveling “TO and FRO” Sajha.

what do I understand ?

He was a shy guy. so shy he barely spelled the letters L,O,V,E together: but when he did he made a strong remark about the combined letters, he stated “LOVE is absurd”.Listening to his remark all I did was keep quiet but in my head i would be like “ABSURD???harey bhagwan! what would that word possibly mean?I will google it as soon as he hangs up”.Then the second he hung up,I googled the word and be like “eh ! eso po bhaneko rahecha” . Well, intelligent you are if you already know the meaning but for those who don’t or are confused,I ll make it easy,you don’t have to go through trouble of googling it, this is what Mr. google says “wildly unreasonable, illogical or inappropriate.” But I still have no idea, what he really meant ; did he mean love is unreasonable or that it was inappropriate?. Cause if he meant love was unreasonable, it was he who was being unreasonable bailing out on a perfectly happy moments; and if he defining love meant inappropriate, it was again he who was being inappropriate to think himself appropriate to be calling love “absurd”.