I drag him to book shops (well, most of the times he volunteers and rest of the times you know how it works ). I am 23 and according to my age I am suppose to read “that” typeofbooks (you know what I mean right? Cause the correct word is so not in my head right now and I don’t mean 18+.) I thought I was a reader, but when I lay back and think about the books I read and the ones my eyes and mind repel, I am in high doubts. May be I am not understanding properly what a reader means or unknown to the degrees of a reader.There must be “Ka barga ko reader” “kha barga ko reader” and such according to the reading standards.
Haha, malai euta kura yaad ayo. Suppose “book” is a guy. I think I am in a relationship but maybe it is just a fling or an infatuation. Other case, may be ONLY I think it’s a relation but he does not. What makes more sense to me right now that I am thinking and writing is, it might be that I think that guy is right for me but he is not. (Still talking about books) I am too comfortable with the type of guy I think I can handle and staying away from better possibilities.Mmmm… well, I should really push my eyes and mind to try “that” typeofbooks.
I still love reading books with big handwriting and pretty colourful pictures.(I know most of us still do…remember Thumbelina, Cinderella,Pinochhio and etc etc :P). Sometimes (well, most of the times) I go to bookshops to buy books, I stroll in that section for some few good minutes and myan I don’t know how I end up in childrens’ book section (Oh great! So there IS magic… :D)
People around me talk about books and writers I have never heard of, they discuss on intelligent topics and all I do is ask “Who is the writer? Is it good?” pretending to be smart and as if I would read it like its the next thing I had to do. I don’t know if I should be thankful or shameful but my friends now say “oh let it be, its not the kind of book you read.”
Ah, there is other doubt as well, I don’t know if I should label myself as an avid book collector or not. Cause here is some confusions as well. I collect books; I buy books judging by its cover (I love ones with hard cover and double covers, how cool is that- book with its own designer coat) , then there are the books I borrow from friends that I don’t bother to return (oops! I have triggered few people’s mind and will be getting calls :P) , also I have books that I get gifted by my actual reader friends, some books that hold memories ( you know … books having notes scribbled on front pages ) and those that I inherit from my sister (hehe not inherit but trick her and keep it under my collection).
I know investing in books is the best thing to do but it’s like so expensive. Price of “That” typeofbooks = 3 times “my” type of books. In my head I will be like, I can get so many books instead of that single book (I know I am stupid and shallow, Sorry about that). One thing that I like about “that” typeofbook is the smell that the paper binds in it. Just like wine, the smell gets better as it gets old. Too bad that kind of satisfaction is not provided by pages of Cinderella. Another drawback would be its size; as a collector, thick books would look real good in my collection.
As I am running out of thoughts and you must be running out your patience. So, here is the end paragraph. What I believe is, the book should not just be judged by its cover but also should not judged by its size, content, story, writer, reader and what not. Simply, the book should not be judged and also the reader!!!
एकादेशमा एउटा खोला थियो। त्यो खोलाको रंग अरु बाँकि खोला भन्दा भिन्न थियो। त्यस खोलाको रंग गुलाबको फूल झै रातो थियो। भनिन्थ्यो धेरै बर्ष अगाडी “haemoglobin” नामको साधुको वरदानले गर्दा यो रातो हुन गएको हो। यस विचित्र रातो खोलामा एउटा छुट्टै संसार थियो। यस खोला मुनि छुट्टै एउटा राज्य थियो। शक्तिशाली, प्रतिभावान र दयालु हृदय भएको राजाले यस विचित्रको राज्यमा राज गर्थ्यो । राजाका तीन छोराहरु थिए जसलाई राजाले औधी माया गर्थ्यो। नगरोस् पनि किन? एक त आफ्नै सन्तान, अर्को ती राजकुमारहरु बाँकि जीवहरु भन्दा फरक थिए। “विचित्रको राज्यका विचित्रका राजकुमारहरु”। ती राजकुमारहरुको रूप मात्र नौलो होइन अद्भुत गुण पनि थियो।
जेठो छोराको नाम थियो राते – उसले आफ्नो शक्तिले जनतालाई चाहिने हावा, खानेकुराहरु, खनिज सबैको जोहो गर्थ्यो।
माइलोको नाम थियो सेते – ऊ चाँहि जेठो भन्दा अलि भिन्न थियो। सेते चाँहि राज्यको सैनिकको सेनापति थियो। राज्यमा कोहि वैदेशिक हस्तक्षेप भयो कि जाई लागि हाल्थ्यो। अनि जनताको साथै राज्यको सुरक्षा गर्थ्यो।
कान्छो छोराको नाम चाँहि खैरे थियो – खैरे भने त्यस राज्यको मात्र नभई सारा संसारको प्रख्यात वैद्य मानिन्थ्यो, कारण खैरेले जस्तो सुकै घाउलाई पनि जाती गरिदिन्थ्यो। कतै पनि नपाइने “fibrinogen” नामको दुर्लभ ओखती उसैलाई मात्र बनाउन आँउथ्यो। त्यसैको सहायताले खैरेले घाउलाई सुकाई दिन्थ्यो र केहि दिनमा नै ठिक बनाइदिन्थ्यो।
त्यस राज्यमा सबैजना खुसी थिए। परेको बेला एक अर्कालाई सहयोग गर्ने, हरेक काममा मद्दत गर्ने गर्थे। रिस, राग, इर्श्याको भावना कसैमा नि थिएन। त्यहाँ सधैँ खुसी र हाँसोमा दिन बिति राखेको थियो।
एक दिन अचानक त्यस राज्यलाई विपत आइपर्यो। राज्यमा बाहिरका शत्रुबाट हमला हुन गयो। सुखी त्यो संसारमा कसैले सोचेको थिएन कि उनीहरुले त्यस्तो डरलाग्दो दिन पनि देख्नु पर्छ भनेर। हमलाको सूचना पाउने बित्तिकै सेतेले आफ्ना सैनिकहरु भेला पारेर भने – “हेर सिपाही हो! आज हाम्रो राज्यलाई हाम्रो खाँचो छ। हामीले आफ्नो सर्वस्व लगाएर आफ्नो राज्य र जनताको हिफाजत गर्नु पर्छ। के सबै जना लड्न तयार छौ?”
“तयार छौँ !!!” सबै सैनिकहरुले एकै आवाजमा चिच्याए।
सेतेका सैनिकहरु बहादुर भएर लडे। शत्रुहरु एक दमै भयानक र सयौंको संख्यामा थिए। सेतेका सैनिकहरु धेरै नै घाइते भए। त्यस लगत्तै पुरै राज्य कम्जोर हुन थाल्यो। चारै तिर हाहाकार मच्चिन थाल्यो। खैरेले आफुले सके सम्म सबैको घाउहरु निको पार्न तिर लाग्यो। रातेले त्यसपछि एउटा उपाय सोच्यो। जे जसरी गरेर भए नि आफ्नो सैनिकहरुलाई बलियो बनाउनु थियो। त्यसैले उसले थप पोषिला खानेकुराहरुको जोहो गर्यो। जसले गर्दा सेतेका सैनिकहरुलाई तागत मिल्यो। विस्तारै सबै सैनिकहरु फुर्तिला हुन थाले।
भोलि पल्ट युद्धको मैदानमा सबैजनाले फुर्तिका साथ शत्रुको सामना गरे। कसैलाई लात हानेर भगाए, कसैलाई लौरै लौरोले थताए, कसैलाई भुइँमा मज्जाले पछारिदिए। शत्रुहरुको विजोग बनाएर राज्यबाट भगाइदिए।
जाँदा जाँदै तिनीहरु “अब यो राज्यमा झुक्केर नि पाइला टेक्दैँनौ” भन्दै भाग्न थाले।
एक एक जना गरि सबै जना शत्रुहरु भाग्दै सिमानाबाट हराए। राज्यका सबै मान्छेहरु हर्षो उत्साहका साथ जित मनाउन सडकमा उत्रिए।
विपतको बेलामा आफ्नो छोराहरुको पराक्रम देखेर राजा दङ्ग परे र सबैलाई स्यावासी दिए।
In one of the episode of FRIENDS Rachel says to her father over phone,
“ Daddy! Daddy listen to me! It’s like all my life everyone’s told me, “You’re a shoe! You’re a shoe! You’re a shoe!” Well, what if I don’t want to be a shoe? What if I wanna be a purse or a hat?”
This is all fine if you were told you were a shoe but you want to be a purse or a hat now. What and why I am confused and worried is what I want to become varies so much. I wish there was a shoe which could be used as a purse and turned into hat as well.But ofcourse you know that would be stupid thing to even think.
The problem with me here is, I want to do everything(well not everything everything but many things). I vividly remember my aim fluctuating from artist,teacher,computer engineer (I have no idea why I wrote that in my school magazine in grade 10) while I was a teenager.
My bestfriend and I were so much into TLC ( Travel and Living channel which has amazing cooking shows) that we would talk about opening a diner,bakery and blah blah. Nigella, Donna Hay, Jamie, Bobby,Curtis, Kylie and others were our favorites. We could make all the recipes in our imagination and trust me it would taste great. I could explain more about our TLC craze but to sum it all up, we talked food a lot. My best friend wanted a diner which served simple yum food in big portions.Well, for me I wanted to own a cute little FANCY cake shop with all that FANCY cakes (she would do the baking and I would just decorate it, P.S. she makes yum cakes).So, here I end how I want to wear a apron and live in a kitchen happily ever after (well, that sounded like I could end up as a pretty house wife, that might be the case but I meant food business.)
There was time when I was so much into art (well, atleast I thought I was.This reminded me of something; I supposed that “Arts” faculty was painting wala arts which turned out to be wrong, I hope I didn’t open my mouth and sounded stupid). I remember nagging my dad to buy me crayons, then pencil colors, then water colours,then paste color (paints that came in tubes); I would buy paint brushes,paletes. I was so into exploring my hobby; I would smear thick paints in the white sheet of paper with my bare hands instead of paint brushes to feel that artist in me (LOL), then there was my “black and white-no colors” phase where I would use only charcoal.I bought fancy charcoal pencils and sticks to draw, those charcoals were nasty and deep black but they gave my heart so much light. The most interesting thing you will hear next about how good I am as an artist would be a statement my best friend quoted “Your paintings are so bad but they look so damn good in photographs.So, you should paint and then sell the photographs.” My dad would be the first one to look at my paintings; he would hold it far from his eyes and look at them and say “ramro cha”. Well, I grew up hearing my sister say “tero painting haru tada bata herda matra ramro huncha, najik bata it looks dirty.” To defend myself here – they look good when framed and hanged in wall at good distance.
Computer engineering??? Lets end the story before even beginning.
Teacher. I was so much influenced by my teachers at school that may be I wanted to be one. I am a teacher right now and I love teaching. But I still am in doubt if it is what I want to do for the rest of my life. I know its crazy how in this time of chaos where we are living in a fear of aftershocks and unsure tomorrow, I am worried about what I want to be. I want to be an artist, have a café, be a teacher but I am not trained to be any of these. Ah! I don’t know how I missed one important thing I want to do; A WRITER!!! Yes I want to write some fancy stories or I don’t know what. I have another interesting story about my writing talent. I don’t know why but I got one poem published in school magazine which was written by my sister but but buttttt I had my name on it and I didn’t bother to alter even a single word.I had so much drama going in during my teenage that I wrote too much diaries, which must have pushed me to write.
I will never be able to end my blah blah…you will get trapped into my blah blahs.If I had to use one long sentence what all the above blah blah meant it would be “I want to be something like dough cause I don’t know if I want to be baked into bun or made into plain roti or puri ; even if I become bun or roti or puri at the end I will atleast be made of flour; if I become shoe I can never be a hat or purse (I know you will say “but they are also all made of leather” but that’s different ). I know this all sounds all crazy cause it is.