Twins

I’ve fallen even more in love with you

Letting go of all I’ve held on to..

“I love this song,” I proclaim getting off my bed walking towards my stereo. Volume 7 it shows. A Saturday night, eight on my watch. I alter the direction my speakers are facing to the side I plan to jump.

“North and South Pole” my sister exclaims raising her head from “ The Namesake” by Jhumpa Laheri. “ You and I are as different as the two poles. Still people call us twins!!” she adds.
On my feet I’m playing an imaginary guitar, doing some rolls on the invisible drums along with Life house in “Hanging by a moment”.

I wear glasses she does too. White by the Nepalese standard, that’s our complexion.. Small ears, it’s the same. Nose? Mine is more prominent than hers. Ponytail, our signature style. I’m 23 months older (I prefer to be exact, it is 23 months and not 2 years.hahaha). She likes to stick to lying on my face.

“Hey you the oldie, 20 years my senior. What have you accomplished till date?” her favorite lines.

Sushil and Diwas see here in Kamladi. Hey, we saw a girl just like you. Ditto. A twin?
Give me a break. Twin???
Yeah she was just like you Kabita adds.

We both stand in front of the mirror. It is “Twin Configuration” we want to determine. Face cut, mine is the oval sort. Hers is rectangular (?). Sorry, I am not so good at giving the physical descriptions. Taller, that’s me. Physique neither can be termed fat. Metallic grin, I am the proud owner. She sports “ Da look” as I like to call it, something only the two of us understand.

Early bird, that’s me

Leave her alone; she’ll be in bed way past eight.

Tea, she’s been drinking it since childhood.

Milk and bournvita is my drink.

Constant nagging at the dining table. Green vegetables, cabbage, pumpkin, beans.. she sees no reason to have a choice in consuming vegetables. Bibnum Di wanted to show her the poster of Bhat Bahadur and Sag Bahadur.

Aalu fry, her favorite vegetable!

From cabbage to cauliflower anything goes. A clean plate my hallmark. “Learn something from me, the satisfied soul” I keep blowing my own trumpet.

She loves momos.
That is “ Pithoko dallo” in my dictionary.

Noodles, allow her she’ll survive on it. Breakfast, lunch, dinner she’ll have it just anytime. The Wai Wai generation!

Boiled noodles resemble like fat, pudgy earthworms for me. He..he. I remember dissecting it in +2.

Music, my stereo is never turned off when I am home.

“Pan Pasal,”mom comments every time she enters my room.

(Pan Pasal, in terai, Hindi songs ever in the background, get the connection?)

My sister couldn’t agree more.

“ Sometimes want to throw away these speakers,” she adds.

Twins. Ditto. That’s us!!

Can you get me glass of water? Mom asks.
I don’t budge from my seat.
“I am sure you are having a headache,” she volunteers.
I hate being told what to do, ordered around. That’s my logic. Any ‘do this’ is an order for me at home.Just don’t tell me what to do I have explained my folks. I’ll do anything when I want to not when you tell me to do it.
And when is the “want to “ever going to materialize? They inquire.
NEVER. That’s an unstated fact.

My sister is just the opposite.
No, not the docile type but not an “ aftyaro ma faleko farsi “ like me. Hehehe.Flexible, down to earth that’s her.

Sometime ago took my plate to the sink! I always have the nerve to have my dinner on the study table..Ha.ha. Talk of kool. She absolutely rocks. I keep asking her, you hate me for this. Nope, she answers you are just the different kind. Wow! That’s what I call acknowledging differences. A tough girl, to bear up with me!!

She can cook. She has already entered her name in the “Who’s Who” Cookbook of the family.

Tea I can manage. The pudgy earthworm’s the easiest. I know I can actually manage everything else too, just that I haven’t tried. No one can tell I can’t cook when I haven’t cooked anything in the first place, can they? It is just like the pizza and momo case. How can you say you love pizza when you have never tried momo??? Hahahaha

Last Dashain I had it all planned. We ought to make the most of the time all the four of us are together I proclaimed. My plan started this way: Mom, Dad, sis all prepare delicacies while I laze around, watch TV and of course I would do something as well. They could call me to taste the food. My primary duty would be to judge the family culinary skill.

Great Plan! They had agreed.

Once I got really mad, yelled what do you think I am? I’ll cook and show you all.The adrenaline rush, I took up the ladle. Mom instantly stopped me urging me to calm down! Their loss. Not my fault. Dearest little sister prepares food; I merely gobble.And there are so many times I wonder if she is the elder one in reality.

Honda GCX, her dream wheels. World’s friendliest car, the ad says (haven’t ever watched it myself though) Consumes the least oil, my sister adds.

Spyker. That’s mine
I moved on to “Phaeton” recently.

Dreamer. From being the PM of Nepal to the UN Secretary General I leave all the options open for myself.

Get real Dazzo, my sister reminds. Don’t count the eggs before they hatch.

No, I’ll count it I reply. What if you end up not knowing how to count when you have the eggs without practice? I reason. Castles in the air, but I will have their foundation laid on the ground I continue…

Polarization of traits.

Ghosts, rice, bin..hahaha..they are the tools to rag one another. At the end of the day it is one another we open up to.

First class, what happened?

Kunda Dixit? Give me the details.

Generalist not journalist. Blog like crazy. You oughta have your personal web site. Her teacher, my inspiration.

Read this NewYorker edition she passes it to me. What about this article of the Economist, read it?

Office?

What happened?

He bathed.

Presentation rocked.

I dozed off.

We go on and on, especially in the weekends. Weekdays are hectic, we are cranky, tired no mood to talk most of those hectic days.

Media is the right hand of autocracy. What do you say? She asks.

We discuss, I listen to her, and she listens to me.

Politics, journalism, love, marriage, fashion, Mohammedan cartoons, beauty we discuss every damn thing under the sun.

Science Vs Spirituality

We debate, we reason, we agree, we disagree. Life, an open book, each one’s crammed with the writings of the other.

Marriage isn’t an essential element of life we talk to our parents. Grow up oldies, that’s the 60s concept. Stage marriage? Heard of it? What’s marriage anyway?These days we can do it all without ever getting married I explain.

Look at what she is saying, my mom exclaims.

My sister gives me the “don’t frighten her look”.

I love it when my mom gets worried telling my sister “ Yesko kehi bharosa chaina, yeslai samjhau hai”.

I laugh out loud..ahahaah. Telling Relax mom. Chill out. If I tell you all that I have heard from my frens you might pass out as well. Another hahahaha…. I love doing this.

Love…it is not meant for me my sister says. It is only for the people dancing around trees in the movies. It is not as simple as they show and as easy as we understand. Not everyone has a beautiful neighbor to fall in love with she continues. And only1 out of 100 has that childhood sweetheart with whom they have the perfect love story.

Romantic novels make drive you crazy. Lean hips, blond hair…bla..bla..bla..

It’s impossible to live with one person all your life. How can you?

No human being can have that patience. N even if they do, there’s something utterly wrong, horrible, and terrible with their life. Maybe they dream of some other life all the while. They just die…
You can’t believe the youthful face preserved in the old form. Crap. How can it be?
Either the “budo” will be having and affair with sb else or watching porno sites. The wife still scrubbing and cleaning the house believing life is just the same. She remembers the first day she entered the house..the joy..some illusion the only source of joy. Or else the husband will be a Psycho like Bibnum Di said.

It is like two people stuck in a room. There are 2 people only but he has hallucinations she is having an affair. They say he has gone mad but maybe that is his only way out from the boredom. He is just fine. My sister advocates strongly against marriage. I agree. I collect things a single woman should keep in mind articles. Non-believer of relationships, that’s us. A lot of media effect my sister agrees, Oprah Winfrey shows..the cheatin husbands, the flaunting affairs…people not someone you can comprehend, you can never ever know them.
Beauty. Shakespeare, Dante’s Beatrice, romanticism..churning of ideas never a conclusion. We talk of the crowd we belong to. Why do girls decorate themselves? We wonder. Why the danglings, so many things to paint your faces with? Know the trying hard to look good in the makeup sort? How can something artificial enhance the natural?

Out of school, passed +2, now we both in university we are just the same. No gazal, no earrings, lip gloss NO WAY! Two sisters, just the way we looked before SLC. …Didi you haven’t changed a bit, my juniors clamor on the road. What did you expect? Horns on the head, I want to inquire. But I merely flash my teeth. That’s the way it is.

Beauty with brains is all crap.

It is “Anatomy is Destiny” presentation. I ask my fren (he) what do you see in the opposite sex?

Looks .The instant reply.

I wish I had the Pussy Cat Dolls singing “Beep” in the background.

“ You’ve got a really big heart, but I am looking at ya

Really big brains but I’m looking at ya

I don’t give a…keep looking at my..

I’m gonna do my thing while you’re playin with ya…”

My fren later tells me she thought he regretted saying that as soon as he admitted it.

Who cares?

Beauty, beholder, eyes…beer-holder..We are both sick of em all.

“ Don’t read beauty magazines, they only make you feel uglier” goes my favorite song.

Fair and Lovely.

The girl is engaged to a green card holder. Bhagya chamkyo.

Give me a break.

Black, white, short, tall leave us alone. Let me be ME!

Why should I fit in anybody’s description? 36-24-36…expressive eyes..long hair, small feet . The hell with everything. We agree. A high five for this.

Gotta fight another fight

Gotta run another night..

You ain’t gonna take me down the way..

Don’t u think u know wht’s inside.

I’m coming out and fight it………

What’s this holding me?

I’m not where I am supposed to be..

I gotta fight another fight

I gotta fight with all my might

I’m getting up so check it out

You’re in my way. So you better watch out…

YOU CAN’T TAKE ME

I’M FREE..oh yeah..I’M FREE.

-You can’t take me (Bryan Adams)

Anything we discuss leaves us just feeling better…expressing yourself releases tension. I agree with Frued on this one.

Twins? You decide.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s