Nepal Banda ( Day 1)
Nepal Banda, it is the next to the Sun Rising in the East, normal happening in our country. Actually it is closer to the perpetual truth than the rising sun. As most Nepalis could believe if the sun started rising in the west but if somebody told them there is no Nepal Banda this month (Oops! A month?? Correct that for a week) they might give you one good beating for such a big lie right on their face. When no one in our land seems to be agreeing on anything there is one thing we could have a consensus on, Declaring Nepal the Land of Closure. After all that failed effort to declare it the Land of Peace. We need to be the Land of Something other than Buddha and Sagarmatha. I experience no pride in declaring myself to be a citizen of a country boasting of events on which no one had control over. Mt Everest, so what the fuss? The tectonic movement could have placed it anywhere. And Yes Lord Buddha, Buddhism all rock but what use saying I belong to the place where he was born when the same land takes the indiscriminate murder of its people nothing more than some petty crime. I for one am all for belonging to the Land of Bandas.
And dudes, I know you spent the Banda being a couch potato staring at the Idiot Box till your head ached and your mom repeated that same old.. Too much T.V, no studies yada yada dialogue. I bring to you my first hand experience of the Nepal Banda- the first day of the one weeklong ceremony.
Well, I am not the must be person in my office unless they have instantly translate some report into English or correspond to their donors or update materials in the website. I am more of the Boss’s person and as an efficient, youngest new blood in the office I complete my assignments quickly and am free. And this I guess as most understand is called blowin your own trumpet loud and clear.. Come on, I deserve some of it after walking all the way to the off and back don’t I? Anyways there was an approval letter and another send right away information to our partner so I had to go. And luckily it wasn’t an absolutely no vehicle on the street sort of Closure, everyone must already be knowing that with so many vehicles taken hold by the government to run in the banda yesterday itself. I walked till Koteshwore and from there I got on to a Nepal Yatayat. Got off at Babarmahal and trotted till Anamnagar.
My colleagues were surprised to see me so soon and only two of them were there so I made most of the opportunity. Immediately checked out Kunal’s blog ( Aslam of Rang De Basanti) , read Jaz’s comment and made one myself. Then it was time for http://www.rangdebasanti.net. For the ones who haven’t checked it out I tell you it is a must. As the page completes loading you have the three songs (Rang De Basanti, Masti ka Pathsala, and Roobaru) being aired not the whole but excerpt. It will get you in the mood. You can download posters, wallpapers, movie stills, check out the cast and what not. DON’T WAIT! CHECK OUT THE SITE NOW. I did and now I have the topless guys waving their shirts as my desktop background.hehehehe. Some way to start work, looking at topless men..Whatever. When can you flex your flirting muscles if not now? Waddaya say gals? What is more, it is FEB! Dream on.
Then it was my time out. Efficiently completed my task in about half and hour I was free! And these days I find my job so undemanding that I don’t even feel like having tea at the off. I don’t feel myself worth the tea. Personally I feel that you should be honoring food by being worth the amount in your plate. You should have done something worth it. I mean when people out in Africa are dying of hunger how can we be overstuffing ourselves? Ok maybe that sounded a little crazy but I can’t help getting mad at anyone who wastes even a single grain of rice. Pray you readers don’t. If you do then go to hell, grow up, be responsible AND BE back. (Emotional fool. U could say that again)
And this banda will contribute to the waste of food once again. Tomorrow again there will be news of farmers spilling milk on the road, throwing away tones of vegetables grown arduously, hundreds still fighting for their share in Humla as the plane with food grains lands and million others going to bed in an empty stomach. The mere thought of it makes my hackles rise and if I had a gun I would perhaps turn into another DJ and shoot the Maoist leader Bhattarai right away. How indifferent can you be towards the dwindling state of affairs in your country when you proclaim to be fighting for the people? Can you win the support of the living when they are mourning the loss of the dead? Can you have peace by gagging us all? You cannot build the empire of your dreams on our ruins of Tansen, Thankot, Nepalgunj name a place here that has been left unscathed by Maoist attacks…(being a Nepali is sure an emotional affair, one moment you are joking another you are ranting) I feel as unstable as the politics of this country, as unpredictable as the politicians (Roshan Karki and Kamal Thapa for instance) and as confused as psycho Dr Tulasi Giri. And in times like these I want to turn into the ignorant Gyanendra pretending the innocence of a child (who knows he may still having the hangover of being crowned the king when he was 3). 19 killed in Tansen, 11 in Thankot in broad daylight but there he goes Maoist activities have been limited to petty crimes now. Hey, by the way is Nepal the newfound land? Are all the Nepalese toddlers? In that case, I must be some yet to be born smart-ass that talks politics in the mother’s womb!
By the way, where was I?????? From tea to hard-core politics talk, that sure is a giant leap. Was out of the office by 3:40 and I decided to walk the way home though I could have got on some bus about to x-plod with people. I was more driven to walk as I wanted to feel like a direct victim of the banda and yes a walk from Anamnagar to Lokanthali did not necessary mean that I would die!! I had to do something to compensate for the reading newspaper day in the office as well. So it began, an hour-long march. Don’t take that as some great feat as once on the road you don’t even realize how time passes..Hehehe. The secret is one should have the passion to walk, like me. Sometimes it is Pulchowk to Koteshwor other times Baluwatar to Baneshwor, the record breaking one was Kalimati to Dhapasi Ward no 1. Take this tip: Don’t start the journey thinking Oh God! I have so much to walk. Picture the journey as small distance trips. E.g. If you are walking from Pulchowk to Koteshwor (I doubt you are that crazy) first think of Kupondole, then Thapathali, then Maitighar so on. You will feel like a packhorse in the end of the journey but the benefits of walking out run the physical discomfort. First of all you reach home all dusty and dirty, get scolded for being so crazy, then are showered with concerns over how tired you must be, dinner’s on your study table itself and finally a good nite sleep like never before. Like it? Then dare it. Hahahahha.. The sights and sounds around you will surely keep you entertained too. Life is so beautiful…the only thing you need is to feel it.
Feel the wind, breathe the dust, flash a smile at the snooty child, displace the stone on your path, kick it around as though it were a football and stride out with confidence. It will be no news if you end up grounded for being the self-proclaimed princess at home always ordering others around. If you feel like one, you will surely act as one!
Baneshwor, it is always a busy place to be. A banda or no banda it is always men, men everywhere and not a single worth looking at. Some staring lazily from their uncomfortable seat on the railing, some angering the newspaper sellers by gulping down all the news but never buying the paper, some grinding the “chana” exercising their molars and some ogling at every female in sight as if they were walking out half naked with horns on their heads. And as I pass through that way a saying always echoes in my head “What vain unnecessary things men are and how well we do without them”. I ask myself why can’t we find women wasting their time in a similar manner. Gathered in some chowk, goofing around. Perhaps it is the trait of a patriarchal society, the men go out do whatever they want no body could care less. A woman ought to be at home. Once office is over it is housework, they toil day in and out and how can they find time to chew on chana, jeering every female in sight. It is so unfair, why do men have all the fun? Why do women have a greater sense of responsibility than men? Why do men have to be so hard to like?
My thoughts are interrupted by a popcorn seller’s “La makai , hai makai” right in my ears. It smells good and popcorn is my all season favorite but I don’t want to buy it from him. I have long ago realized that men and hygiene are distant cousins. Especially in case of men folks in this part of the globe. You never know when the visible to all wall turns into a piss hole for them. Can’t men exercise a bit more of self-control and stop acting like babies uncontrollable when it comes to answering nature’s call? The temperature is the same for both men and women so why this pee more frequently in winter thing among men? And as I am about to reach Koteshwore gate the first thing I see is a peeing daredevil in action. I am like, God! Can’t you grant a single day in my life without any peeing scene on the road in it??? Reaching the Banepa bus stand I take a look around at the dusty road, there is a man selling coconut and it makes me a little kindergarten schoolgirl once again. It takes me back to the days when I used to hang on to my father pleading him to buy that white fresh coconut everyday after school. I am just about to get nostalgic when all of my memories come to an abrupt halt by a noise in the background. It sounds like a running stream and like a bolt from the blue I realize that it is the SUPER PEE MAN himself! Man, his urinary bladder must have been about to burst. Hey guys, was it the WORLD PEE DAY in your Martian Calendar?
