People don’t attract me. I don’t attract people. The relation is reciprocal. But the few that are (well, not attracted but I happen to know despite my unsocial trait) are all compatible on a mental level .
It’s the prelude. To what? Don’t know that myself. I just want to thank the existence for making my road cross with the best of people. Kya manche betiyo yar! You bet. I am in Self-Congratulatory Mood!
Short hair, a black sweater inside the Che-Guevera t-shirt. Her red studs catch my eye. The cargo pants, I have to resist my impulse to ask “where did you get it? How much?” Long eyelashes. Hey, why am I noticing so much of a woman? I think to myself and smile scribbling on loose sheets of paper. No time constrain here. I spend the entire day in her room. The room is crammed with clothes, a guitar, a bicycle, DVDs, albums and bags with international labels. We sit on the floor. Her Nokia is in Charge mode. The laptop sits on an attractive wooden structure. The room’s a MESS. But the pictures are one of a kind. One could be a “National Sensation”. She knows it. I don’t understand the nitty-gritty of her profession but know it too.
It rains. No lights. The room turns dark. But she wants me to take a look at few other pictures. “The way humans express love” she explains. I am not introduced to the person in the picture but I just know it. And she explains making me realize that I am right. Nothing personal. Discreet but crystal clear! I know more about her in a day than I did working for some two weeks “to know of her” by interviewing people. It’s a realization. Want to know people? Then approach them. Forget their best friends, the hell with their websites, people Exist in the Real World. They’re not a Virtual Entity. Kool’s the conclusion. Live life your way! Do your thing, the hell with the rest. I like her StyLe. From minutes to hours. I am at ease with her presence. Music, Janakpur, journalists, rock,jazz, blues. The conversation is far from what I ever expected it to be. I begin talking to her too, giving opinions, exposing my ignorance, sometimes my knowledge.
Outside, its sunshine after the rain. “Hot Bread.” The person on the phone tells her. She takes my name and says “I’m with a friend.” It surprises me. But I like the surprise. I want to walk but I take the bus.
Well, that was an account of a day in my life….
And College? We all know it’s going to be a rocking semester already! The “Gurus” are all intent on disturbing our mental tranquility. One asks “Do you think any retail shops will exist in Nepal after five years?” He talks of WTO, then of Wall mart in India. “Ever weighed a kilo of sugar, once you brought it home?” Cheated is the conclusion. Tourism and Development. You want to shut up but you just can’t. Development needs pessimism. She asks “What good has optimism done?” And by the end of the lecture you are so disturbed that your disagreement sounds more like an emotional outburst than a“Why? How?” query. The words come to your head but the mouth’s forming incoherent sentences. As though it’s the heart doing the talking not the head.
The other talks of “Huge-men” rights as opposed to “Human rights”. Hate the politicians, what have they done? The NGO walas in Prados and Pajeros, want to spit on it!! He proclaims. Bold. He’s seen it all, been there, and done that to say that. (I want to flatten tires when I enter the premises of certain places myself! )17 years of working in rural Nepal, not a joke. “Will we ever be able to do that?” we ask. But enough of complaining about “what is wrong with this country”. That’s all we can do TALK. 5 semesters gone doing the same. So we ask, “Then what do we do. What can we do?”
“Write.” That’s the first thing he says. Strikes me. WRITE. She’s nudging me with her elbow.
“But how many in Nepal read newspapers? Do the ones who need to know read it?” A question.
“It has the power to make a huge difference.” He answers.
Attending classes is like being on FIRE. And the teachers add some more fuel making our “Do Something, we must” temperature shoot up like anything. But being on fire is easy. A lot easier than being the refined gold as its outcome. Sometimes I wish the classes to go on forever and ever!! Filled with enthusiasm, spirited, be the josh ma hosh gumeko pagal keti!!……hmm tara teso matra bhayo bhane kaam chahin kahile garne ni???….ufffho..ab kya Karen??
Anything else?? Ah..how can I forget Holi and the Lola ka Goli!! Need to go out now, and if anyone does hit me I am going to hurl boulders at the Culprit!! Ha ha ha maybe carrying some pebbles in the pocket would help. No, a tight slap would work the best. But the damn “Lola-hitters” are always on the hiding so the wasted concentration of energy on the palm!! Even so the weather’s great. Cold in the morning, but HOT during the day, the evenings are romantic as usual
(Felt really good to write about just anything to everything ONCE AGAIN!! YAHOOOOO . Hey Dearest Blog I am Back with a Bang!! Time to rock now! He he he )