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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.

rainbow of emotions

images

 

Those shrill cries…

Yes! Those shrill cries that my eyes shout

When they witness themselves bleeding tears

When they hear nothing but empty lifeless heartbeats

Pounding and thumping like they are trying to escape from the void

Sshhhhhh….

Lips make the hissing noise

Eyes keep quiet.

Only sheer silence!

Eyes get dumb, a pair of palms covering them.

Gust of wind clutches the sweet warm scent

That familiar scent pinches the heart

Heart dances pulsating with love

 

Lo! Eyes smile…

  tear glistening  in the dark !!!

Dharahara

After years and years of negligence, today I finally looked down at the concrete forest from the caged balcony of Dharahara. What really happened was, we were on the way to Khichapokhari and like any other day I made the same comment about Dharahara – “jum Dharahara chadau aja”.  Also i added another line – “if the ticket price is Fifty rupees, I will pay for you both.”

The big sign board where it was painted – “General ticket price Rs.50 only” made the F word come out of my mouth. There was no way they were going to let me go, and not make me pay for the tickets. So, we walked in the premise and I was surprised to see the beautiful garden (though the area was small); never had my poor mind imagined that within the core of all the hustles, loud ear numbing noises and parade of vehicles, there would be such a beautiful piece of serenity.

We marched inside the not-so-tall coiled steps of Dharahara, “Step number 1…. Stape no 188 …” “kripaya bhitta ma fohor nagaridinu hola” “kripaya paan, khaini yaha naphyalnu hola” these words were painted on the inner walls. It is a real tragedy to think how stupid and disconcerned visitors are that they have to be reminded not to do a simple task that they should feel ashamed on acting.

Pushing these concerns aside for a bit, let me tell you how I felt after I reached  the top of the world (NOT)… Ok! how I felt when I reached the top of Dharahara. I knew what I was signing for when I agreed to climb, I was welcoming whole session full of nagging from my friend and my sister about how I am afraid of height. When I stepped on the balcony (I guess that is what it is called), I was literally glued to the walls, I didn’t let air pass through the gaps of my back and walls of Dharahara. It reminded me of a scene from “Mr.Bean”, where he struggles to jump down from the board at the top in swimming pool.

I looked through the barred cage, the city looked beautiful (even the clusters of buildings simply looked beautiful). Then my friend goes “kathmandu sahara… herda lagcha rahara” (a dialogue from movie LOOT). If you know me well, you must know how I am obsessive of taking pictures of everything and every moment. Well, I had to take pictures but I was scared would drop the phone. Lucky me, there were my two photographers, who happen to be my walking ATM as well( sorry guys :P).kj

I almost forgot to mention there is Shiva mandir at the top of Dharahara, about which I have no more information. Hopefully, I will find out more about that pretty soon. Actually, I have no real information on Dharahara itself as well except that it was built by Bhimsen Thapa and there were two Dharaharas standing side by side in Sundhara. I hope I got the info right.

Well, to sum it all up, I had quite a experience climbing Dharahara but  I wish I hadn’t climbed it yet cause it didn’t meet my expectation. When I used to look at the giant white cylinder, I always wondered how it would feel to reach at the top and how different would city look from above. And now that I have been there, I don’t feel so hyped.

4 20 an 6

4 20 and 6! She has seen that many season changes and will be seeing many more. If you didn’t understand what I am talking about; “4 20 and 6” was the answer when I asked how old Aama was. It’s 4×20+6=86, for the ones who is still wondering. One of the Aama who was already 10 10 and 1, refused that she was the age she already was, 101! And she was so full of life and wonderful. Seeing the high spirit of hers was simply amazing.

Well, Our Rotaract Club of Himalayan Patan has this annual ritual of celebrating “Hamro Dashain” .It is a club project where we visit Aamas at old-age home. This year we went to Divine Service Home at Golfutar. There were fourteen lovely Aamas, beautiful souls. It is always a bliss to hear stories from them, my favourite is the one that begins with “nabbey saal ko bhuichalo jada… ma sorah barsa ko thiye, ma paanch barsa ko thiye, ma dash ko thiye…”

Being alone at old age, much worse being left alone is my nightmare but looking at them changes everything. Together they live as a family, like sisters sharing same childhood memories. It is unfortunate that they have to be without a family but hearing them with no complaints makes me happy. Hats off to the old-age homes that take care of all the Aamas and give them a new family even though I wish there were no need for a kind heart to think of setting up an old-age home.

A thank you note

I am thankful  to my dearest friend who pushed me extra mile to get my dream come true, and that dream would be owning my own blog. Well! I got a little more than I had dream of, I got “www.nija.com.np” .Yay me!!!

(You must be grinning right now reading this but please don’t complain if my words are wrong here even though I highly appreciate your editing. You know how much I depend on your expert opinion.)

Snip Snap Snip

“I want short hair.Yes! I so want to cut this tedious tangled hair. May be getting rid of all these tangled hair will solve my problems. Hopefully I will feel better. NO! I will definitely feel better. I know!” – this is what my head thinks whenever my depression gets out of control. Next thing I know I ring my girl friend (if no one is available I fly solo) and I magically find myself sitting in the black leather chair of parlor. The hairdresser sprays cold water round my hair, the water droplets fall on my eyelashes like morning dewdrops. That gives me sense of freshness and makes me stand to the decision of getting rid of my lush curls. “Snap” the sharp blades of her steel scissors pierce the dense brown hair and slices it. Underneath the apron, I keep my fingers crossed (I don’t know why I do that, may be I am hoping I wont have to regret the stupid decision).

I peek through the curtain of hair covering my face, I glance down and see heaves of hair lying dead down the floor. Shit!!! I cover my eyes again. After the hairdresser is done drying up my newly harvested hair; I glance at the mirror, actually two mirrors – you know what I mean, right ladies?

Wow! I look cool. This is the new me. In fact the BRAND new ME (like Alicia Keys song), I so so love how I look. I reach home, try making a pony tail, make messy bun and play around. I pretend to be satisfied with my short hair, well! Pretending comes only after few days when you see old picture of your long curls. And then you go…@#$# my hair!!!

Royal Shelz

xcI never thought I would have a dog, let alone love him more than anything. Even the day I brought him home, I had high doubts about me being able to look after him. He was just two months old puppy, quiet and cute little ball of black fur. I had thought about naming him Pastry, my brother called him Pi; both of us didn’t favor each other’s name. That time, my sister was hung with The Big Bang Theory fever; she suggested we call him Shelly after Sheldon Copper. The name “Shelly” seemed to fit him just perfect; that’s how he got his name. Shel, Shelz and Shelu – that’s what we call him. Presence of his Royal Highness Shelz in my family is a bliss to us. Even though dad didn’t want a dog in the house, now he adores Shel more everyday. Mom loves him more than us I guess, as she never complains like we do. My brother got another brother, he fights with him, gets jealous with him, plays together, brags about his little brother and loves him quietly. My sister – the dog whisperer loves Shel, it’s fun to watch her whisper to Shel (though I find that pretty disturbing sometimes). I watch him grow bigger everyday; how I wish he stays just as big as he was the day I brought him home wrapped with shirt in my big red bag. How much I pray that he fits on my lap just perfect when he rests, all cuddled up!