Meera....'A normal girl among us'

It was the third day of Nepal bandha. I was feeling bored and looking for a good way to pass my day. I took a book called “Sold” written my ‘Patricia’ from my book shelf and a packet of ‘Lays’ chips from the kitchen and entered my room to continue with the story. But the kids playing next to our building really disturbed me. I found myself eating the lays only and the book was on the pillow opened with the book marker placed in between. My room was a total mess. My table was crammed with books, a mug, my pen drive, article papers from the workshop, camera, and red nail polish and so on. The Om (nepali) print with the psychedelic color that lay on the wall added a charm to my room. I headed to the TV room to watch some good programs. The repeated Indian reality show programs made me sleepy when my Amala (mother) with a loud shouted,
“These Nepal bandhas don’t even let us have fresh vegetables”. She was showing me the shopping bag. I nodded as she was saying all those things about vegetables and Nepal bandha. I was really not interested to listen to same monotonous issues. I was scratching my head for a way and thinking for a way to skip from the situation when I received a call from a friend of mine and she said
“Oie Lhamo lets go for cycling”.
We agreed and headed towards Tusal where one of our friends was waiting. We left from home with the doubt if we could get any cycles at that time for hire. We could see everyone on the road cycling from every age. People were walking on the road. Kids were playing badminton, football in the middle of the way; youngsters were buying peanuts, ice cream, fruits from the vendors. Rickshaw riders seemed really happy with the tourist, though they were drenched in sweat.
We walked through tusal. As we passed through the gate of Boudha Gemini Supermarket, we asked one of the passersby and got to know that cycles were available for hire in Kumarigal. The moment when we arrived at Kumarigal, there weren’t any cycles. Without any choice we had to wait for the cycles in the nearby local restaurant. . It was a simple an ordinary restaurant. A single room with the kitchen attached with two tables. We were little hungry and one of my friend asked if anyone of us wanted to have something. Since we had plenty of time to wait, we ordered Vegetable chowmein, Roti and Alu, omelet and tea and decided that we would share them all. It was an ordinary restaurant.
We were talking with each other about the condition of Nepal and the people, the society and the way the people think in the society. Just then a girl’s threw her voice in between our conversation but we didn’t give any importance to her and continued with our own chat but time and again she interrupted, trying to make her presence in our discussion. Her constant act made me give a keen look at her.
She had a look of a teenage girl. Her eyes were beautifully art done with the black eye liner of the seventies Bollywood actresses which can easily grab the attention of anyone. Her messy haircut (totally short from back and a long threat like at the check bones) gave her the look of a rock star. Her golden, red and blue colored bangles (which now a day’s teenagers would try to match with their style and clothes) sprinkled a pinch of lady look in her. She was wearing a simple red and black v-neck shirt with the light blue skinny jeans. A black converse shoe which had double laces of black and white added a style and well I could notice her studded leather belt. She has a beautiful clear skin, no blemishes and not even a single pimple on her face. I have heard that beauty is the skin deep and yes looking at her skin, it made me feel that “she really had the beauty”. She had pierced her left side nose with a silver ring which actually gave me the feel that she can be either Rai limbu or Gurung.
She was reading a Nepali newspaper and said “kya Bhopal jagada bhayecha mao-vadi ra police ko yaar” to one of the young guy who was next to her. The guy was sleeping with his arms folded on the table. But he didn’t avoid whenever the girl asked something. She was ordering this and that to the guys around her, who gave me the feel that she was one of the powerful character of a woman of the Indian movie.
One fair guy with yellow green colored shaggy hair appeared suddenly and said something in a very low voice to her. She then got up and went inside the restaurant with the guy searching for something in her jeans pocket. After a couple of minutes they came out and she said something which was out of my knowledge. The guy left and she came back to the place where she was sitting before. I looked at her hands which were swollen. The way she spoke and the way she pronounced the words were uncertain and it seemed as if something was wrong with this girl. She looked sleepy and it would take a while to make her understand what we are actually talking about. I was very much interested to know this girl who seemed really gutsy about every word she uttered. Her every sentence gave me this vibe that she was indeed a local youngster spending their time hanging in groups. She was frequently using the words Saale, hawrey, as though she enjoyed it.
Her every movement captivated me and I asked her, “timi k garchau”? She looked at me and said “mero budha le malai hercha.”
She seemed proud while answering this, she looked happy with whoever he was. She seemed too young to get in a relation like marriage but when I asked her about her age, she was 25. Then without a delay I made my comment to appreciate about her beauty. She was with all smiles. With a surprised expression on my face, unbelieving the fact that she was 25 I said immediately “timi lai thaha cha ,timi dheray ramri chau ra timi pacchis varsha ko jasto dekhdaina” (do you know how beautiful you are and you don’t look like 25) with unwilling smile on her face she looked at everyone and said “k garne ramri bhayera ,na yo ramri aanuhar chaatnu milcha na khanu milcha.
Her certain answer made me know that this girl has seen a lot of things about this society and her life. Though her answer sounded bit too straight forward but there lied a bitter truth which is accepted by most of the people.
The fair guy popped again and whispers something in her ear, with an annoying appearance on her face she said
“la la pachas rupaiya baadi deu bhana”.
I was totally unheard of what was actually going on, what were they murmuring about, what relation she had with those young guys.
The fair guy left again and the next time he came, he handed her with some money. She put it in her jeans pocket without even counting.
I was anxious to know what the money was for. She looked happy. She looked at the guy next to her and said ‘Oie jata…churot kinera lyau ta…
“Paisa chaina”…..the guy.
“Salee…la hawrey…firta paisa ta rakh…” Her.
The guy came back chewing a gum, he handed the packet to her. She took out a cigarette and guy picked up the lighter from the table and offered to light it. She started to enjoy every puff. Every time she inhaled the smoke, she would close her eyes..and I don’t know why….
I asked her name and she replied “Meera”.
She added ‘Tusal ko Meera bhanera sodhnu…va lady punch Sabai le chincha”
“ho ra..sabailey chincha timilay…tyeso bhaye timro dherai saathi cha hola ….hoina Meera?”
“Saathi ?“giving an irritating smile…’kasko saathi ko saathi”?meera ko kohi saathi chainna”. Said Meera.
She didn’t give any further answer. She remained quiet. She ordered chowmein, momo , and sukuti for packing. She even told the restaurant didi to make it quick with Achar separately. When asked where she was going she said “mama ko ghar ma janu parcha buda lai khana dinnu”
“Mama ko ghar…… Buda lai khana……… kina” I asked
“Mama ok ghar bhanaiko…police chauki ke”…
She told us in short that she and her husband got caught by police while dealing with the drug on the way to Maitinagar. But she was later released when her so called husband reported that drugs were not related to her and she was innocent about it.
I found myself talking to a drug dealer. It was fascinating for me to come to know about these people. Their every gesture seemed different and I found myself interested to know more. I liked the way she was talking, though her words sounded like bit too harsh or straight forward but I like the way she spoke. There wasn’t any pretention or consciousness in her and I really liked it.
I asked her if she was involved in any drug. Without any hesitation she replied “brown”.
I was like “brown?”. She said “maile drug chodney try gareko ho tara ma relapse bhaye”
There was frustrating expression on her face when she revealed this fact. This single word “relapse” made her shattered and I can see that in her face.
Restaurant didi hurriedly came with the packing and said “Meera baheni timro packing”
“ Katti bhayo didi”
“Ek sai pachatar”(Rs 175)
Meera stood up. Left the money on the table.
She gave smile to everyone of us. Before leaving she told one of the guy to hire cycles for us. She turned back again and holding the packet, she said…kaam paryo bhane lady punch lai samjinnu…
Smile to Life

J

Rohit! A Rich Scavenger

walking all alone.

lost!



dreams beneath the steps.



his cousins..

You can easily get some idea about what I am going to write here, you can see the name Rohit and yes his pictures too. Yes indeed I am going to write about Rohit here. I found him really interesting boy and no wonder I was feeling good about this little boy. Reading my words here, you will get to know about little Rohit and his world. I am glad I found him after several days of waiting and searching.

He was sitting at the corner of the construction site while on his way to Tinchuli, I found him eating something in a plastic. But I doubted if he is the one I have been waiting for. I got closer and closer. By the time, I was close enough to hear the sounds of chewing. It was him.

Rohit…. I voiced.

He looked at me in a disguise, didn’t say a word in reply. It didn’t matter to me because I was asking him random things.

Ho! ma Rohit ho; he replied later without any expression on his face.

Well this is Rohit. I got to know about the slum dogs place through him. But when I went to see him, I found out that he had left for India. Yes this is the same boy I have written in my previous article. I am very much glad I got him on the way to my office.

Rohit is a boy of 12. He is the youngest son of his family. He works hard like any man does to help his family to stand in the society. He is an example of any other ordinary man in this society making his walk to remember in his own best way.

Yes! I call him the man of his age. Instead of playing with his age around and gaining education in school, he is given duty of responsibilities to stand as backbone of the family and I am sure there are always reasons when certain situation appears.

He wakes up every early morning around 4 o’ clock and starts with duties onwards. He walks by the way of Boudha,Tinchuli, Jorpati, returning back from the phulbari way to his destination where he stores all the garbage in a place and sells them out every end of the month. He has an elder brother who is married and has two kids, is also engaged in same work. They have three times meal a day. Rohit mentioned that he likes playing with friends. He likes going to school like every other kids do. He watches a student who passes by us when he was talking about school and study. He loves laughing though he has very uptight face. So far I have not seen him laughing. He talks to the point thing, sometimes hard to believe a kid of 12 can be full of dull expressions. If you don’t talk to him, there will be like complete silent environment.

I am sure the navy oversize trouser was not really his. But he was wearing it so comfortably that it seemed he was fine with it. He had a green small size shirt with a cartoon character at front but it was badly faded. His feet show how hard he works. I took a picture of his feet when he was loitering around. We walked by the way of Tinchuli where he often comes and that’s where we first met actually.

Question! Why is Rohit here in Nepal?

With a dream to build a house of own, he travelled to Nepal from India to build a house. Rohit spends days, weeks and months here collecting money with his big brother. He said he wants to help his family to build a house of their own in India so that people won’t make his family feel down. He walks off the house early morning at 4 with his white sack every day just to give a roof for his family. He told me that he earns 20,000 rupees a month.  My eyes were wide opened. His brother collects all the money, and then they travel back to India time and again to deposit the money in a bank. Well this sounds really modernized.

Rohits gets 20 rupees a day from his sister in-law every day for his own uses. I asked the moment if he has the 20 rupees and how about offering me a glass of tea, I was pulling his leg. He smiled and said he has already spent it. My bad luck.L

He said, he was getting late and has to continue his work with his white sack. I handed him the things I had for him. He left with a smile on his face. And that smile was worth to see. With a smile on my face I said to myself; finally I met Rohit.

Smile to Life. J

A Teen 'Undertaker' in Pashupati...

.................



undertakers in white.




Ram, Dheeraj and Shyam at right



Waiting and waiting ...



Shyam made the entry into the Local Restaurant for dal bhat..

It’s already 8 o’ clock now. I have to bring together the words and jot them down in here before I go to bed. I am tired but the wonderful time I had with the kids on the way will brighten my moments. Love them.

I was at Pashupati temple with my sister when she was clicking pictures and I was looking at the environment because I have never been there around the time of 5 in the evening. I came across few kids around me. They had sharp faces with marks on their faces. I caught them when the security man was chasing them when they got near me.

Timi haru yaha ko ho? (Are you from here?) I asked the kids who were around 4 feet tall of same height.

Ho, hami yaha kai ho. (yes we are from here) they replied.

Before I could ask my second question, one of the them asked me; Didi dus rupaiya deu na. (Give me ten rupees).

Lala ma dinchu tara ma sanga alikati kura garnu parcha hai ta. (Alright I will give you but you have to talk to me for a short time).

Then he changed his want by demanding it into a plate of Nepali Thali for three of them at the nearby restaurant. I was like …what? But I agreed. I said I will treat them dinner but all they have to do is reply to my queries without any lie. They accepted and for some instinct I felt that they won’t fake a single word.

I saw an office just next to the place where people are cremated. The crematorium is divided into two sections, there is a bridge (which is quite old but people hardly notice the fact) where numbers of pedestrians leaves their footprint of faith in the God and goddess passing by each other and looking at the cremation process from beginning to the end, and they silently watch the people who are in great grief of lose of their dear ones. Well I am one of them in the crowd….and I have always been impatient to know ‘what goes in the mind of the undertaker?’ This is something I have always been keen about. They call them ‘pandit bajay’ here.

I made my way to the office to grab information making the kids to wait for me at the same place. I took the few broad steps. There I saw two young guys sitting on the chair. One of them was quite big and had covered his face with a black mask. But I noticed his curly hairs. The other one had brown eyes, very unusual from other nepalese and yes! he too had curly hair. At first he was uneasy talking to me. But later he was closer to fine in the talking terms. The bigger guy was more comfortable to talk though his face was covered with a piece of cloth. But that didn’t matter to me. We were talking, when there was a lady next to me sitting who came later also added her views and her experiences as she had been working in the hospital of the Pashupati temple for almost 26 years now.

 She is Saraswati Timilsina. She had a pierced nose with a golden nose pin. She was wearing a spectacle.. She talked too much than I have expected and quite fast indeed. I asked her if the rumor I have been hearing from a long time now, that there are some cases that people sometimes gets back their life when they are considered dead in hospitals and home and they are left behind not taking them back home? How much truth is there in this buzz?

She said till now it has not happened and so far she has comprehended people with joy and smiles when such cases took place. Everyone agreed nodding their head in silence and the brown eyed boy was one of them.

The brown eyed boy is Bashunder kharel. He is only 17. He has been there since from his childhood playing around the place. He grew up at the place, now he is working at the same place and earning by himself. He said ‘I earn and I work myself, I am not a burden to anyone’. He had a powerful short confident speech. My eyes popped out!

‘Tyo ta dherai ramro ho bhai! (This is very good)

Timi kaam garchau ra kamauchau tara parnu pani parcha ni hoina bhai’? (You work, you earn but don’t you think you have to study too?)

His only and only reply was ‘khoi’…. (I don’t know)

He has been in this line of “undertaker” from 4 years now. Till date he has cremated around 40-50 dead bodies. I was shocked and I gasped. He mentioned that he gets 850 rupees from each cremation from the office. He sometimes has 3-4 cremations to attempt in a day and sometimes nil because there are 28 people who are engaged as undertaker. Trust me’ they earn damn well. Better than many other who works in offices digging their minor mind.

He added I am not engaged in this work when I was born. I was born with all the happiness that belongs to me with this life.  But the time and situation pushed me to be in this business. I am fine with this now. I don’t shed a damn tear for anyone. I don’t feel any sympathy for anyone who comes here with the cold senseless body. They all are same as it was when I did for the first time to now. This is like a very simple work for me to do. It’s very simple as you consider your work.

“yestai ho didi kaam bhaneko” ( this is what we call work) he added and disappeared.

I saw the kids been waiting for me down the stairs. They were watching me like a policeman watches a thief. I left from the office handing chocolates for everyone who spoke nicely with me.

‘Didi baat khana jane’ (we want to have dal bhat) the kids.

It was late but I didn’t want to disappoint the kids with my promise. I and my sister followed their way to a local restaurant. They ordered ‘Dai khana teen thauma’. (dal bhat for three)

Ram, Shyam and dheeraj, they enjoyed the ‘dal bhat’ by adding rice for four times. Oh my god that’s a lot.

Ram and Shyam are twins. They are 12. Ram is elder by 8 minutes. They are ditto. They have same height, same body structure and same speech. Ram and Shyam want to go back to village. They are collecting money by begging. Shyam told me that they have collected more than 2000 rupees. Their father died because of excessive drinking, and found their father lying unconscious in a rainy day. When they got the body after the postmortem, he found out that there was something was wrong.

Changing the topic, I asked where they will be heading after the meal. They were staying at an organization which provides shelter to the street kids. Meeting them I found out that ‘Suman’ who I have been searching from a long time, is staying in the same organization but he isn’t allowed to walk out of the gate.

Suman is a street kid and he wants to be a Don. That’s what he told me when I first met him. Well let’s hope to meet him one day.

‘Masu na khaye ko dherai bhayo’  Dheeraj added holding the steel glass of water. They had dal bhat and masu too.

We paid and holding the bottle of mineral water we walked by the Gaushala way. They had to reach Siphal so they took the first way from the Gaushala in that busy traffic where as my sister and I waited for a local bus and got back home. But we promised to meet once again for a hearty lunch and listen to more of their stories.

It was a good feeling to see them walk off the hustle road playing around with each other as other normal kids do like hitting and laughing at others. Ram and Shyam were easily noticeable because of their big size hoody. I saw them waving back from the distance. I was happy and was smiling back, which I am certainly sure they didn’t notice. But that’s fine. I adore them.

I was very tired by the time I reached home. I told the stories to my mother and I was scolded for walking anywhere without asking her. I was like yea I know…………….:)

Smile to Life :)



peeping in Slum dogs life!

  

Toilet???

                                                          Akash, his little sister with mother :)

       Akash's kholi       

ETC....

My upsetting face was sparkled when I saw an image of a boy in shabby clothes and untidy serious face tightening a rope around pile of garbage which was bigger than him. He was giving the best knots so that it won’t get slip. He was about four feet tall. He was in slippers that seem like being use for long time. His navy color trouser made me doubt if he goes to the ‘Phulbari School’.

Hey! Timro naan k ho?

Rohit ; he replied in a low voice lifting the pile of garbage on his head. It was really big, which made me puzzled he won’t be able to carry them on his head.  But I was wrong and I am glad he proved me wrong. I felt that he is the man of his age. A real man!

We were walking together from Tinchuli and talking at the same time. I asked him many questions. I was lucky that a boy with serious face gave me all the answers.

Rohit is 12. He is living in a place behind the boudha stupa with his family. His eyes were wide opened when I asked him if I can come to his place to see him. He agreed. He left from phulbari saying that he has to sell the garbage that was on his head. He even mentioned that he will get 10 rupees per kg. I wonder if he got 50 rupees that day.

                                                                                ***

I along with my sister went to the place where Rohit was living. We passed by the ‘Boudha Siddhartha Hall’. I had some idea of that place from a long time. But this time I was going there for real with a reason and for the first time. We saw the place fully occupied with very small temporary houses covered with a black and blue plastic roof. I could dare to enter that place; scared of being yelled without knowing the reason which happens over and over again among people with misunderstanding. I didn’t know what to do. I saw number of kids playing cricket at the near open field. I went near and I came to know that they were living right there with their families. I asked them if one could go and call Rohit for me. I felt bad when they told me; he left a day before along with his family. But another Rohit among the kids I was talking. I came to know Akash, Bikki and Raju. They were very nice talking to me. I have always adored kids and talking to these kids is no wonder an amazing feeling within me. I asked them if they will be here around 4:30 in the afternoon or if I can see them again. They agreed with beautiful expressions on their face. We left and it was dawn by the time we left.

                                                                              ***

I came home early from office. We had some sweater, stationeries, and colors hand bags from office to distribute. We reached to the place again. Everyone there calls it “Jhopat basti”. Few nepali kids saw us from a house that was next to the place we were heading “Jhopat basti”.

Oh my goodness; I saw the toilet of the “basti” which was nothing like a toilet but a a place rolled with torn old clothes and hollow tin supported with some tiny wood. One can easily notice what a person might be doing inside. The smell was Awww…I had to cover my nose as quickly as I could. i saw dogs, ducks, hens, chickens, goats ,cow living very friendly. One can easily see the take off planes from there.

The place was a complete mess. May be I didn’t see it yesterday because it was already dark by the time we got there. There was a boy holding a tiny girl around his arm. I asked him if he could call Akash. He disappeared without a word but within a minute I saw Akash coming to me. Thanks to the boy.

Akash took us in his house. They call it “kholi”. As I got near to the place, the kholi’s more looked like bars of bamboos covered with black and blue plastics. I felt bad to see their house condition but wait wait….they had color Television of 24 inches with latest DVD’s and music system almost in every kholi. A music system, god damn! I don’t have it of my own. I could hear the fighting sounds in the Hindi movies. Oh god!  Akash made me feel fine in his kholi. I was feeling free on the bed. The kids surrounded me. We gave away sweaters, hats, colors, bags, pens, pencils etc one by one but trust me it wasn’t an easy thing to do. They were shouting ‘aye didi, bachhay ko deydo! Time and again, this was nothing but noises disturbing the kid sleeping  next to us.

I asked Akash’s mother about how they manage everything here. Do every kids here go to school for education? Are they sponsored for their education or going to a government school? How do they carry on through the bad weather? How do they get drinking water? Blah blah blah…..

They do have sponsors to educate the children. The most of the kids were attending school. They have a drinking water through the underground pumps. There are more than three hundred people living in more than hundred kholi’s of that ‘basti’ . They had only four temporary toilets which more looked like a tiny hut built by play group kids. Most of the morning its difficulty for people who waits in the queue for the toilet and one makes everyone waits…then again noises aroused. Some clever people make their way to use the public toilet opposite of the Boudha Gate. Now that’s something good to get away.

They had to pay two hundreds of the land rent per month, three hundreds rupees for the electricity and one hundred for the toilet, which makes  six hundreds of expenses per month from every family. I don’t see the use of the toilet when most of you go to the public one right, everyone laughed. Akash’s mother has been living in this kholi for more than twenty years by now. She said she got married here and gave birth to her three children here in the same kholi. I was like….What??????

Akash was near me. I was feeling very much easy sitting next to him. He was calm and was sharing views of the elders of the kholi’s. I gave Akash some extra things than other kids because I liked him which is so simple to understand. I was thinking to leave because it was getting dark.

Even when I left meeting other kids, the feeling of meeting Rohit was still alive. This assured me of meeting him no matter what. Back home, we meet many other children playing in group, distributed the leftover stationeries and came back with a smile comprehending other sweet smiles on the innocent faces. But we missed to witness a Real Smile. Rohit’s Smile!

                        http://www.http//touchofawanderer.blogspot.com/ for more photographs.
                             Dolkar lhamo mashutzo

The 10th March...Uprising Day in Boudha

The 10 march comes every year for sure. As I am writing about this particular date, there is obvious reasons to be a necessarily of some realistic reasons. It’s been like a week that the 10^th march day has been passed by. But there are certain reasons, bothering me to speak out.  But honestly saying, I can’t stand in front of a crowd and give a leader’s speech.  So I thought why should not I write down my words here and post it in my blog. I can be wrong here, my thoughts can be immature, my words may sound impolite, and I may stand to look Naive. But who cares because I want to speak out some words which I will do no matter what. Because this is my blog and I can write anything right here in my world when I am living in a country of freedom….(grin of disguise)

The date 10^th march stand as the one of the unforgettable date for every Tibetan living in far across the oceans; doesn’t matter if its east west. This day reminds all the Tibetan about that they have a country called Tibet. Since after the uninvited invasion of the Chinese into the land called roof of the world, During This day Tibetans gather in group to make pitchy voice to make everyone know that we are longing for freedom of nation which is Tibet. There will be scenes of the magnificent national flag in everyone’s hand. But why only on this particular day? Do we have to wait for the 10^th march to hold the flag which is after a year? We only want out country on the 10^th of March.  Or the rest of the days are like vacation from the lust of country. I have never asked anyone this question till now, but I guess everyone has to ask it even if you are alone in a dark room. But do it, as I have done it and I came up with the thought to write about the 10^th of March.

                                                                                    *

It was around like 9:15 when I got inside the samtenling monastery of boudha. I was pleased to see the number of the people gathered to remember this day. When I got in, I could see youngsters wearing shirt with the slogan like ‘Free Tibet’, ‘Stop killing in Tibet’. I saw the same slogan in the forehead of most of the people. It was indeed a craze for nation to witness. The art of Tibet Flag on the faces was awesome.

I was there among the crowd singing the national anthem with many people. I was lucky to get a small hand flag. Felt near to my country. The uprising anthem was started with its strong vows. I saw a woman shedding tears at the corner. Her tears made me acknowledge me that she had seen hell lot of hard times. Going over that woman and her tears; I was murmuring om mani pedme hun within my heart. I know that makes no sense at all. But really, that’s what I came across. I may sound timid by my words.

Everything was going well. From the active view of the ‘Free Tibet’ banner with the numbers of hot air balloons flying in the high sky as if like the God and Goddess were right there  getting that message of FreeTibe to the youngsters participation.

Out of blue; we want free Tibet, UNO; we want justice started to get louder and louder. Cops surrounded the exit gate like there is no way to out with all their own protection of uniform for themselves. People started to shout and shout till their throat dried. I saw no one of the Tibetan so called leaders or the people who always gets ready to be seated as the chief guest with a flower badge at their right left chest trying to escape from the happening where as I could see an elderly man of his age around 50, standing with his flag right in front of the cops erect, with his Tibetan top as written ‘stop killing in Tibet’. A woman right in front of my eyes dragged by her hair to a distance, but she remained still not to release her flag from her hand. But the cops were dragging her hairs like she has no life. Hats off for her willpower I should say.

Medias and journalists and the photographers were busy with their work to get the best picture to get them in the newspaper with their name written.

I could see the crowd being darted by the cops and were charged sticks. The image of a girl wearing a purple shirt captured my eyes. She was at the pavement of the boudha rubbing her left side of Arm; I could see the pain in her eyes. She was replying back with continuous words which I didn’t hear. She was hurt.

I heard that a husband was beaten and taken him to the custody of Tusal when the wife got fainted right there.

The whole occurrence was simply the same as the years in the past of the 10^th march. No wonder it will be the same in the coming year. The Medias will make it headlines for a day ‘Tibetan protest clashes with the Nepali police’ ’20 injured and 13 in custody’. No wonder the VOA news and the radio free Asia will post this news as a fresh catch then what…??

Do we want to be charged by the lathis and the awful comments that we Tibetan in Boudha witness this year in the coming years? Will the banners and the slogans for a day will be enough to remember our country?

I feel like there should be ideas to smart result rather than an anger of depth. All we have to remember is that;

A country is not a gift that you can get by raising your voice.

A nation is not reward that you can get over in a simple way.

A country is not football game that you can see a winner after you score the goal.

I guess the youngsters should come along with a smart ideas rather than making people get injured in a severe way. Can I suspect smart ideas on the way?

                                                                                        *

When I was in school as a kid, I remember our elders made comment by patting on our shoulders; now you are the future seeds of Tibet. I used to wonder Are we? How can a seed plant a Nation?

Now looking at the kids in the 10^th march I feel like passing the same line though I am not that old to pat on their shoulder and begin with my words; now you are the future seeds of Tibet.

Are we going to witness the same slogans and the same protest ten years down the line? I am still thinking though I am not the one who has all the answers. With this article I hope to see the love for the nation so that one can speak out your mind through my Blog. Your views will be welcome for a change in our Tibetan society for a better.

photographs by dolkar lhamo mashutzo

http://www.touchofawanderer.blogspot.com/

conversation with a mother and wife...(9/1/2010) 10:36 pm.

I was back to my work from orthopedic hospital after spending few hours with the handicapped children. I was showing the pictures to my fellows when I saw Mrs. Maskey sitting on a chair lost in her own world of thinking I bet.  She is a mother of two children and a very good house wife of todays. She was looking well-groomed with the brown jacket and the boot to complement the looks. Her curly hair was freed. Her big eyes were like wide Silent Ocean.

I actually don’t remember how all this started, all I could remember was the moment when I saw her loitering like there wasn’t anything  to stop her which brought me this anxiety, what she might be thinking?. What was going in her mind that made her think in such immense way? Questions and questions started to swim in my minuscule mind. I went near to her, approached her with my words as we normally do speak out over a topic time and again and discuss.

I asked her; we sometimes bewildered about the fact that life is sometimes funny, isn’t it? It isn’t the way it has to be. How people see it from the outer appearance is way too far different from the fact which is hiding.

Her eyes wider opened, she gave me an astonished appearance and uttered her words; Lhamo! Time brings changes and you have to walk according to changes. People are very much interested to interfere about someone else life and that’s pathetic. She stopped her words there with a long breath as if she has been waiting for a fresh air to blow her disturbed mind.

We were lost in our conversation which started with an ease. We were talking about everything that was bothering within our mind. I felt like we were both looking for this moment of sharing where we were talking about everything like family, career, passion, aim, society etc. Our conversation started from our daily life’s activities to our passion to dreams.

She can make you understand her views with the simplicity of her words of expressions. The plus point is her expressions of face which goes well with everything she wants to make other understand. This will lead to an endless conversation. There was a kind of anxiety to talk to her and listen to her because the more I was talking to her the more ideas and opinions I was storing within me and to some instant I was agreeing with her views.

I took that chance to ask her if she was happy and have there been any changes in her life from a single independent girl to a married woman?

 She looked at me but I was damn sure she wasn’t puzzled what to answer right the moment; gave me this smile that left a question within a question in me and with a free feeling of mind I was asking the questions to the right person. She smiled again and looked here and there. She turned to me tightening her brown jacket from the waist and replied; Life brings vast changes after the marriage. Someone who has been your dear to life like parents, siblings, and yes the career will become secondary when we tied our knot with our husband. You would try to make your husband happy in every possible way. You will start to wear dresses that your husband think suits you rather than your taste. You will get yourself involved in the activities which your husband cherishes rather than you desires. You will try everything single way to impress your husband. My ears were completely opened to her. And I loved watching her expressions. When I was listening to her, I was thinking aside, the presence of a husband can be that strong in a woman’s life?

I was mesmerized when she shared me some of her life’s experience after the marriage. She shared some of personal practices which she still remembers and upsets her. She told me that their first son used to spend so much of time with her father that, whenever anyone asked him about the name of his parents, he would come up with her name and his grandfather’s name which shattered her which actually recalled her that her husband wasn’t giving the possibility of time to family. I wonder how complex it had been to her to face this common truth.

She added making it as a part of joke; see Lhamo it’s actually hard to be a wife of a person who is so devoted and craze for work. I asked; is it?

She giggled.

I accept the fact that man has to be the person who leads the family and gives an identity to family. It must have been very important for Mr. Maskey to earn success for his own reasons. But so far listening to Mrs. Maskey I believe, chasing those unbreakable dreams of success for her husband, he lost some of the very important moments of his life. The moment when a father notices his first child utters the first word ‘baba’, the first walk and the very first naughty act which makes very father go laugh whole day remembering the act which are like priceless to every Father.

When I am writing this, I can feel the emptiness as being a human. I wonder how Mrs. Maskey had been handling with all these things. May be this is why people says; Women are brave.

I think within that strong mother’s heart, there are many of her own dreams, her wishes, her passions, her likes which she has been hiding till the date.

Squealing Pain v/s beautiful smile ?????

I was in office remembering the old childhood days and the moments I had with my friends. I was slightly smiling when I remembered the silly moments I spent with my silly friends. Few faces really made me feel superior that moment when I had nothing hectic to do at work. I remember one of my friends particularly. I have really missed her after all these ages.

She is a beautiful woman now. Her brown sparkling skin can attract anyone. Her small peanut like eyes has dreams that she never shared. She stands tall enough to make people feel uneasy standing next to her. Yes’ she is indeed a beautiful woman now.

I had her number; I was thinking to meet her as there is the connection of so called feeling between us though we hardly meet in front of the people. I dialed her number crossing my fingers and biting the pen at the same time.

Hello; someone answered.

Can I speak to Yangla please; name changed.

Woman in the phone told me to stay on the line….but I heard the footsteps and the words they were having in there through the phone.

Hello; (it was her)

Hey it’s me lhamo! How are you? I was thinking to meet you personally since it’s been like years we have not met. What you say?

She accepted and she was very soft through the phone. I can feel the words she was trying to say. But I convinced her to meet me. She agreed. And we decided to meet at Boudha right after half an hour.

I left from work to the place we decided to meet. I was walking to boudha, when I received a call from a number I didn’t recognize and it was her. She told me that she was right in front of the Double Dorjee restaurant of phulbari. I took the bigger steps to avoid the irritation of making her wait. When I got there, I saw someone looking at me and that was her. Oh my goodness, she was looking flawless with the same skin. She looked even more beautiful to me. She was there standing next to the wholesale shop, with the white top which covered her looking very decent with the jeans that made her figure go crazy as always. And the black heel in fact looked flying on her. She had shorter hair like the actress Kajol had in the movie called ‘Dushman’ if I am not wrong. All and all she was looking remarkable.

She looked at me and said; lhamo rang pey change chakduk (you have changed a lot)

Trying to be modest I said with a smile without fakeness; really have I?

She didn’t say much nor did I, but only god knew the truth that I really tremendously pleased to have a look at her and get to see her in such a good condition.

We made our way to the garden kitchen restaurant which is just like fifteen steps from the Double Dorjee restaurant. We entered in and we were welcomed by the normal brown menu on the table. She asked for a coffee where as I ordered for an ice lemon tea.

We were both silent for a while and didn’t know where to start the conversation. We were facing each other on the table which was big enough for six people I guess. She looked at me with a smile and asked; how is work lhamo?

Work is fine. But sometimes it gets hectic no matter how much I try my best to make it go at ease.

She again added; its good lhamo that you are working and you have a work that keeps your mind busy. Busy mind is better lhamo.

I was trying to understand the meaning to the words she impressively saying in a slow motion in something else and flicking the ring of her middle finger frequently.

Our tea and lemon ice tea were served. Adding the sugar in the coffee she looked at me again and smiled. I smiled back. I was thinking of a way to make her feel comfortable enough so that she can share more of her words with me.

She added two table spoon of sugar and was stirring gently. I asked her if she was in touch with other school friends. Her answer was same like mine. Yea sometimes I get the glimpse of some of friends who vanishes like a wind.

I dipped the straw  the in glass, hit the ice with it and taking sip of the lemon tea, I asked her if she remember one of the moment back to our teenage, when we are in ‘city café’ where  you once said;

Lhamo, since you write your journal every day, do you mind writing about me in your diary so that you can keep this memory to remember what I went through and you can witnessed this time. So I am thinking to write about it now. I don’t know what you will think about this. I am sorry if I sound like naïve but I think I should capture your experiences of life though my words. Please if you do not mind.

I saw her eyes wide opened, she took a minute to think and giggled. That was little bit sarcastic.

I acted as if nothing was wrong about my approach. She looked at me and said; let me hear you when you finished it. I was like oh my god, I was happy but I failed to show my happiness. I was thinking that very moment what I will write, how will I start the story? God that was crazy.

She was trying to smile throughout the conversation but there was something wrong which I was not aware. Bewildered in my seat I asked her taking the chance to know more; how is life? She laughed, and with a fake smile she replied to me, “Life has never been nice to me. And I don’t expect anything now”.

Playing with the ring she said; what do you expect from a life of a single mother lhamo?

Life is really hard. It’s harder when people you love from heart do not understands and support. She told me that she was in relation with a guy who was really good looking. She said that she really loved him to death so she decided to tell the guy about her son and first husband. She said it was all going fine, but then whenever they had tiny quarrels over any matter , they guy would come up to her revealing her healed wound. He always made her felt like a cheap wrench which she was not in any case.

She was full of tears in the instant she uttered his name when I asked. I saw her love for the filthy guy who was not worthy for the love that she squealed with each drop of priceless tears. I was speechless. I didn’t get right way to raise her lonely spirits by heart. I couldn’t find the right word to say. Damn I hated that.  I was so naïve.

I asked her again; what if he again comes back to your life?

She smiled and with a gentle touch at her eyes making people unaware that she was dropping tears, she said; he won’t come back. I love him dearly, lhamo this is a truth. And I am a single mother which is inerasable truth. so I think, these two truth of my life will not get along. The more I think about these truths, I get more distressed. So I am just living a life now. I hope you understand me lhamo.

I was very much touched by her words and her life. She is beautiful which is not a doubt for any eyes whoever gets a glimpse of her. But I was wondering if the truth of her life makes this beauty go in vain.

I was very much worried though I didn’t show her. With my positive words, I made her happy by saying; dear, the person you love who doesn’t cherish your love means he is not the right person to be cherished.

There is someone else for you and I am sure about this dear. Just take a time off from all those ill feelings and get a life for yourself. You are beautiful and strong, all you need is that you have to realize that you are brave and that’s all. See tomorrow morning is going to be a new morning with new opinion. If you want people to change their thinking, first change your life. Then there will be a Change in your confidence which will persuade your life to happiness.

 Our tea and lemon tea were left cold.  We finished our words and it was dawn by the time. She told me that she had to go somewhere and I had to go to visit my dentist too. We left from there and departed with a wave to meet again to talk with so much of true feelings. she smiled back again before leaving which made me realized that her smile had never changed all that has changed is her life in a negative way which she was not responsible alone. She loved a man with her heart. Was that her mistake?

My Amala once told me when I was very young; Lhamo, being a girl means, taking the steps of life with well disciplined way. If a man turned into good from awkward world. He will always be greeted for his goodness that he has now. But whenever a girl makes a mistake, no matter how much she is better than any awkward men, she will always be annoyed for her single tiny mistake.

As I am writing this short story of a young beautiful woman who is going through the hardest time, I have a questions within me, I want to include here in my conclusion; Did she put up a mistake by falling in love? Did she make mistake in choosing the man? Will she ever be loved again like the last woman? Or will she ever find a man who can love her with her present?