Dancing anyways………….

The only good thing about the day was these lines:

And the band played song’s that we’d never heard
But we danced anyway
We never understood the words
We just sang oh la la la la la la la la la la oh
And we danced anyway

ringing in my head from dawn to dusk. I think I got what I wanted but I can’t say for sure that I am happy about it! On the first day, I thought of celebrating in Roadhouse Café but I didn’t. I walked past the tree remembering the time we had laughed clutching our tummies …I couldn’t remember why exactly we had laughed though. It was something I’d said..but I couldn’t remember anything more than that. I didn’t try hard to remember either. Trade and Economics have lengthened my association with Your Area . Many a times I wonder if you would feel ‘alive’ if I lived your dreams. Would it be ‘yours’?

And it’s strange that the old writing is just being discovered. Is there any point in it now? The moment is all gone; the emotions are replaced by something sadder. Then I was inexperienced, now things are different. Now,I don’t think of Perks nor Preity Zinta when I think of death. I only think of you.It only made me sadder. I went through the poem again. I’d NOT wanted to understand it then..this time I didn’t resist and I understood it all…what a comparison…goat, grass, iron hush…I felt the words, literally.

I don’t go there every Fridays either. It’s been ages really. Initially I went there for a couple of times, watched the final rites, the bodies wrapped in yellow, thought of you then I stopped. I call you now and then, the same number. Only missed calls. I wonder who uses it now. We talked of you yesterday too. It was his marriage. You’d said you’d be there, remember?

I would have loved to treat you with a cup of coffee, any place “we” thought posh for “our” kinda celebration in Baluwatar.Everyday I pass by the places we’d planned to go, someday when we’d have money. This would have been enough for a “new” chirdai darlagne kinda territory too but what use I don’t have you. I think of you… Are you happy ? Is it all milk and honey up there? Is it all peace and tranquility? I hope so. I hope life down here is always worse than your place. That way you’ll always be at a comparative advantage It’s a sad place but am your “asabadi” sathi as always……… Miss you. If I could, I would have taken that for you a thousand times and over….

A ramro geet for you:

I think about you – I can’t get no rest
I think about you – there ain’t no one else
Its all I can do – I cant help myself
Ya – I think about you

Fuel Shortage In Kathmandu: Mobility is Survival

Mobility is survival. It wasn’t taught to me, I learnt it by moving. As life in Kathmandu has been crippled with the shortage of fuel (gas, diesel, petrol etc) I realized how important traveling was to everyone. Moving to survive (whether for work or education or entertainment) is one thing but surviving inside the moving vehicle an entirely different story. To start with, the streets are tending to “emptiness” and the vehicles are tending to “explosion”.

Microbus heading to Bhaktapur, at Jadibuti, the 4-5 people who can be seen standing were all hanging on the vehicle

Yesterday I got on a micro-bus to go to Bhatbhateni. I was standing. My body was facing one direction, while my body in the other. As my bag kept slipping off my shoulders I silently prayed that the girl on the “seat” would hold it for me. She did not. I asked myself “Where is the minimum level of humanity in the Month of Love?” I kneeled down on the floor of the micro and as I arose from “my seat” the man beside said ” I thought there Was A Seat!” I payed the fare and left. Yes, I shouldn’t have got on the vehicle, you can argue. But there is no Choice these days as the next vehicle may never come.

Monologue

It isn’t much I have read on the issue but am already getting bored. Their strange procedures are really wearing me out. The written examination was a headache, especially having to reply to the PPP concept in Nepali. I just stuck to BOOT, the hell with translating it in Nepali..I think I was remembering the PPPUE handout and how could I ever forget my Semester Exam hero Alexis De Tocquiville! The whole universe seems to be centered on the principle of Social Capital!! The level of community ( tat’s a nice expression). Strange that the definition is still fresh in my mind. And what a discovery to know that I can mug up definitions too! Whatever….m so Wakka of this topic now…I don’t want to research anymore too, cause there’s no use showing off to the experts..Starting with “Migration is Development” could help though..I don’t know, maybe, maybe not.

The room’s a mess, newspaper cutting everywhere on the floor. Japan, Israel, Qatar..what’s the end result of this entire globalization of labor? I wonder. Money, more money, GDP, out of extreme poverty…how long will one have to stay abroad, what incentive to be back? Will anyone ever be back? Will the nation be able to provide the same facilities here? When then? Whatever ..m just waiting for it to get over as soon as possible…What a tiring process! Do the oldies know that they are putting us through hell through their complicated process? They ought to have the best in the business if every new person has to go through this looooong process. But it will give a sense of satisfaction to have made it through one’s understanding and ability on the issue…I know..ufffffffffff but tis is really boring.. and that out of the ordinary “interest in what I am up to” is getting weirder by the moment! It so, doesn’t go with the character. So what I am reading a novel or drinking tea or doing whatever else? I thought asking such questions meant curbing your FREEDOM or whatever phrase you use.

I hope, you know that it will be harder for you to resume your original character once you have climbed up in the ladder of emotional responsiveness!! Well, that is just another term to make life hard for you, all the same. Just taking a break to talk to myself. Felt sooooo much better than reading of foreign employment…for now at least ….time to dash off to the Main City again to improve my chances of employment perhaps!!

It’s my Birthday! ..Thus Spake the Blog:)

Go, go, go, go
It’s your birthday
We gon’ party like it’s yo birthday
We gon’ sip Bacardi like it’s your birthday

In Da Club – 50 Cents

I almost forgot the significance of the date! Thankfully, I remembered it just in time. Well, it isn’t something like Super Tuesday or anything even close to it but it special. It’s the birthday of this blog! Does anyone celebrate or rejoice the start of their personal diaries? I think not. Maybe people do, but I know none. Diaries have a start and finish. So, do blogs if you chose to close it down. But the difference between the two is how “Blog years” are more similar to “Human years” of existence….that’s my personal take on blogging… A blog doesn’t have a limited number of pages to determine when it will end like our lives. The more you write, the fresh pages keep materializing. Like the love of living, keeping you alive!! Or like an Akshyapatra, you could say (The vessel in which food originates on its own) or like Draupadi’s Sari I guess (the length only keeps growing). What a strange comparison to make, isn’t it!! But compared I have, so let it be!