The hardest drink to swallow...

Are you a nice person? Do you feel like you are kind-hearted?

I thought I was until I met this family.

Here is how this tale goes.

I recently went to do a baseline survey in Dolkha. It was a six-day trip to go to various rural localities, households and schools to find out the status of education for Dalit girls and disabled children. The trip was sort of an eye opener for me, a roller coaster ride of my emotions, but one that I will cherish. The landscapes, the people and the moments with them were the purest I have felt in a very long time.

I could talk about the whole trip and I would be writing a book, but that is for some other time.

Recently finishing my exams, extremely tired and needing a long break and time to myself, I went there oblivious to the change in my life and thinking that it would bring to me. A lot of things happened throughout the trip that has made me question my morals, my upbringing and my sanity. But I am talking about this single thing that brought about the biggest wave in the calm ocean of my mind.

A friend and I had to go and interview some families with disabled children in this remote area called Bhusapheda. We were there for 3 days and the first two days went well with regards to our survey. The final day is what I am talking about in this piece.

We walked hours on the beautiful village path, with beautiful hills, trees, farmlands and small streams. The plan was simple, find out the house of this family, take the interview with the disabled child and her parents and be on our way. We asked the locals of the location of the house whenever we found someone who were happy to help and finally reached the house we were supposed to reach.

The so called house was at the side of the path. Well, it was just a temporary shelter made up of metal and plastic sheets wrapped around bamboo scaffold. Directly in front of this shelter were two ditches and we had to cross those to get to the shelter.  There was also construction of a house going on nearby.

We were greeted by the family. We gave them our introduction and told them the purpose of the visit and they invited us in to the shelter. The inside view of the shelter was sadder than the outside view. I am not even going to try to describe it.    

We asked our questions and had a long talk with the family. The family had three children. One of the daughter had lost the function of her left hand. She lost it in a freak accident while a toddler. She had rolled into the wood fired stove and brunt herself. The girl was very pretty, a little shy but very friendly. We talked about her school and her studies and turns out, she enjoys studying very much. 

There were two other children in the family. The father talked about how one had fractured his hand recently and had been recovering ever since.

The conversation did dwell into topics we didn’t have to talk about. We found out that, the family’s house was destroyed during the earthquake and they had been living in that makeshift shelter for the last couple of years. The house that was being built was for them. It was difficult as the father didn’t have a steady income and they were in debt. But it was supposed to be done because how long could they live in temporary shelter. The father also complained that he didn’t know any information on facilities to disabled child because he couldn’t afford a radio to listen to the news and programs. It could be seen in the faces of the parents how much they loved their children as they unanimously said they wanted their children to study as much as they wanted but I could feel in the sound of their voice the sadness of being poor.

Oh! This talk shattered my voice and my eyes water. At one point, I didn’t know how to ask any more questions. For the first time in my life I felt sad for being poor myself. I wanted to do something but I didn’t know what and how. For the first time in my life I felt helpless, hopeless.

I was contemplating their life and mine. I had everything I wanted compared to this family. The problems I had was microscopic compared to the problems they faced. Yet, I felt powerless to do anything.

Then, the family offered us a glass of Mountain dew each. We declined but they insisted and we took half a glass. That made me realize I am not the nice guy I claim to be. I am not the kind-hearted person that everyone credits me for.  The family with no income and more problems were generous enough to provide us with a drink. They didn’t have to. They didn’t need to. They couldn’t afford to. But they still did.

This was the time in my life, I really thought of everyone and everything except for me. I was put in a greatest debt and all I could do was slowly sip the hardest drink to swallow…    

Revelation...

A familiar face; calm and beautiful. The room is practically dark but her facial features are unmistakably clear and visible. Her dark hair is in perfect contrast with her pale white skin. It is like she is being illuminated from within.

“Why am I looking at this girl at the middle of the night? Who is she and how did I get here?” , she asked herself. There was urgency in her thoughts but somehow she was perplexed by the lovely face and all her questions vanished bar one – Who is this girl and why is she so familiar?

She knew she had seen her before. The familiarity in her face was so profound and it felt like she knew the girl’s name; it was in her mind but all jumbled up. She realized again that she was staring at this girl, her calmness was a trance. She closed her eyes and thought hard to remember how she got there.

She had been at work all day. It had been a tiring day. Every day at the work is tiring, but today was extreme. She had been transferred to the new department a few days earlier and had been learning the way around. Her colleagues had told that this was the job with most work and a difficult boss to please. But she knew she would never back down from a challenge. It was not in her nature. Besides, she had taken this job to do something good and the new work would help her realize her dream.

DREAM! She thought. Had she slept at work and was now dreaming? It couldn’t be. She remembered quite well that after pulling a late shift and finishing her assigned work, she had walked home tired. Her home was about a twenty minute walk from her work place. She enjoyed walking but today she was feeling tired and disappointed.

Her disappointment was caused due to the fact that her boss had neglected her efforts at work. She had done her job well and was hoping for praise but the shrewd man had pointed out a minor mistake, and had scolded her, which was later found to be someone else’s mistake.

Walking was always a relief to her. She thought about things that were bugging her or that needed attention while she walked and she believed that she made good decisions during her walks. Walking home today, she wondered if she had taken the right decision to choose the new role at work. Was it what she really wanted? Were there other more fruitful ways to get her goals?

This sudden questioning of her decisions about work also opened the doors for all other decisions she had made before. She wondered why she had stopped talking to her closest friend from her childhood. They were always close but after both of them took different majors at college, they had slowly become further from each other. She asked herself if she had studied arts like she always wanted to, would things be different. Would she be happier? Her parents persuaded her to take the subject she studied, but she never thought it was because of their constant pressure that she was not happy now. She loved her family. She did feel guilty that she never tried to convince them. She also wondered about her love life. She knew that she had always had a lot of admirers. She noticed them but she was more focused on more important things in life. In her mind, she simulated scenarios about how her life would have been different now if she had not rejected some of her admirers. Better yet, how good life would be if she had not let in people in her life that had broken her heart?

But that was not how she got here. She had reached home with all those thoughts in her mind. It was already pretty dark and she was too tired. Once inside, she had aimlessly tried to smile at her family members welcomed her home but was too tired to make it look convincing. Her mother had noticed and asked her if everything was okay. She always could share things with her mother but today, she was too drained for a long conversation. She had told that she was just tired, hungry and wanted to sleep early. She had gone into the kitchen, not bothering to freshen up, looked around for what was cooked, made a plate and devoured it hungrily.

After dinner, she got ready for bed. She had an elaborate ritual before bed but she always did it even though she was too tired. She had planned to sleep but after freshening up, she felt like reading for a while. She took her Kindle from her night stand, jumped into her bed and started to read. She was reading this popular book about the life of a boy and how the people around him shaped his life as he grew up.

She remembered reading it for a long time. While reading, she imagined what the author was trying to portray, the story, the emotions and small details. The author had told a tale through a perspective of an orphan boy about life. How everyone and everything has a role to play on how he turn out to be. All the good things in his life shaped the boy to be kind, generous and lovable whereas all the bad experiences taught him to become more persistent, hopeful and stronger.  All in all, the author wanted to show that life is made up of joys and sorrows and these experiences in life make a person better.    

And that’s when it came to her. She remembered where she is and who is the beautiful girl sleeping peacefully. She slowly opened her eyes and turned. She remembered that there was a mirror on the wall. She looked at it and she could she the horror in the reflection of her own face. Terrified, she gathered that she was in her own room and the familiar girl sleeping in her bed was HERSELF…            

Are men and women equal? My views...

*This is the opinion of the author and he is ready for healthy discussions if someone has a different point of view but the author is in no way trying to piss off any particular group of the population. 

‘Are men and women equal?’

This probably is one of the most discussed topics in the modern era. How would you answer this question? Yes? Or no, followed by a long explanation on how one of them is superior.

I am writing this article to give my opinion, so let me answer. I think both the answers are incorrect. If you are smiling now because you gave a different answer, GOOD JOB! But you are also wrong! Don’t be sad or angry, it’s just my view and don’t stop reading this. I am sure you are right in your own way and I respect that, unless of course, your view is demeaning to a certain percentage of the population or if you answered ‘I’m Batman’. Actually, scratch that. If you reply ‘I’m Batman’ to most questions, you have my respect.

Fun aside; I think the question itself is wrong. Just think about it, the two words represent totally different parts of a population. It is like inquiring if apples and oranges are equal, or mountains and rivers. Sounds silly, doesn’t it? Does x equals y? No, they are totally different. Okay smart-a** algebra students, x can be equal to y if they have the same value. But what values do male and female correspond to? Can humans be reflected through some simple equation accounting for every variable that they are subjected to? I think not.

My point is, every individual is different. I am a different person- physically, mentally or spiritually to you or anyone else reading this, regardless of the gender. I am sure there are a lot more ‘-ally’ words that you could think of which have a varying degree of difference with everyone. So, how can two different parts of the population, with every unit (person) being so unique, be measured as equal or not? Think about it.

Are you still thinking about boys and girls as a whole? Damn you! Let me explain that too. Fill in the blanks with whatever you believe. (Nature, god, aliens, etc.) ……….. differentiated the gender in humans and other organisms too. I don’t think this happened just so we could enjoy sex. The genders are different on a molecular level - from the chromosomes to the hormones they produce, which has changed the human body physiologically as well as emotionally. Now, how do you judge the physiology and emotions that are not same for the two sexes and who determines which factor is superior or inferior? You rationally can’t compare the two. So, males and females can neither be equal nor be compared with each other to determine the superiority without being prejudiced.

You are still reading this. I thought most of you must have left already. Thank you for reading till the intermission because there is a twist in the tale.

So, what should the question be? I would prefer this. ‘Are humans equal?’

YES, they are. Mind you, the question is not ‘Are humans the same?’ As I have proven (or tried to prove) earlier, every individual is different. So, not all humans are the same. But they are equal. And who says so? The people and their elected personnel should. I mean to say morally and in the law, humans should be treated as equals. I am thankful to say that our country does legally say humans are equal.

Before you point out that its not the case or else there would not have been this discussion, ask yourself; do you believe humans are equal? Does everyone in your family? How about each member of your community and the citizens of your country?

The Nepalese constitution sees all its citizens as equals. You have the right to vote regardless of your gender. You can work in any post of the government or other organizations, whether you are a male or a female. We have had two presidents in Nepal and guess what; both men and women have 50% of the chance to be the president(This statistic may or may not be relevant in the future.). Yes, there are problems in the system and they are slowly being addressed (too slow and I agree) and for these, people should be more vocal.

It is called human rights after all and I am sure everyone was proud to read it aloud in their social studies book. Oh please! I know there are animal rights too but I am not writing a book, am I? So let’s not get into that right now. Now there are these terms “women’s rights” and “men’s right”. It might be viable point but just think about the opposite gender and try to feel their sadness. They can never comprehend the other gender’s rights because they can never exercise it. This cannot be equality.

At least, everyone can be proud about children’s rights. Life as a child is the best. No serious worries about social issues or the need for acceptance of your views by your peers.

In summary, my view is this. Males and females are different and that is nothing to be offended about because so is every single individual. The characteristics that separate males and females have a certain elegance. The inability to do something is not the flaw of the whole gender group but rather, the flaw or fine point of the individual. Not trying to imply anything girls, but, I am a great cook. But as a human being, everyone is equal and you can share this with anyone who says otherwise. This article will mess with their heads because I know it has for you. But on a serious note, don't fight against the opposite gender. Instead, work with each other to change the views of those who don't understand the concept. Thank you!
This piece was edited by Mr. Bibek Sikarmi.

Monsoon...

“Monsoon is here!” she heard the presenter on the radio. The forecast said there would be heavy rainfall the following week. She thought to herself, “Better carry my umbrella.” She remembered last year when she was drenched to the bones when she forgot her umbrella and had to go to the work. It was the most embarrassing day of her life.

 She had only started her new job a month before. Her boss had her do a report on the earthquake that devastated the country a few months earlier and she was supposed to submit it that day. She reached the office all wet and drops of water dripping down her long pointed nose. She was never into makeup like the most city girls of her age, but had worn a light streak of mascara to make her more presentable for the presentation she was to give. To her horror, her mascara had smudged all around her eyes and that she thought she looked like some ghost. Her long black hair looked as if she had just come out of a bath.

She felt angry at herself for not bringing an umbrella and nearly broke into tears thinking that all the other employees must have thought she was stupid. Her co-workers, however, helped her clean up and her boss moved her presentation the next day so she could replace the papers that had been damaged by the rain.

She opened her cupboard, took out a small yellow umbrella and put it in her bag. She had had this umbrella for some years now. It was a gift from her friends at the college on her birthday. They used to have so much fun during the birthdays of each other. The birthday girl was thrown a party by other friends in their group and they used to try out new restaurants every time. They also had a pact that the birthday gift should be useful. On her birthday that year, they had a blast at this fancy Italian restaurant just about fifteen minutes from their hostel.

Seeing that umbrella took her back to those days when all her friends would run and play in the rain without any hesitation. She had argued that the umbrella was not a useful gift as they loved the rain too much.

Oh, how that had changed over the years.

She always liked the rain ever since she was small. There was so much memory that associated with rainy days. Her father used to let her skip school if it rained too heavily. He used to say, “It’s raining heavily, you will get sick in this rain. So, stay home but do study a little.” The whole family met at her house and prepared momos. She loved hot momos on cool rainy days.

She also loved the rain for romantic reasons. She had her first kiss on a rainy day. She and her first 

boyfriend were on a date in this lovely park on the edge of the valley and it had suddenly started to rain heavily. They did not have an umbrella so they were standing under a tree even though it helped very little. Her boyfriend had grabbed her by her hip and had gently kissed her. She still can’t describe what she felt on that day but she always remembered her first kiss very fondly.

She was all occupied in her thoughts when there was another announcement on the radio. The voice 

on the radio read the news, “Heavy downpour has caused a number of landslides that have claimed the lives of thirteen, injured hundreds and unknown numbers of people are still missing.” That news threw her back. She suddenly felt very sad, even devastated. She always was an emotional person, not able to see sorrows of others. But this news flooded her harsh memories and her eyes were wet. 

Her mascara ran all around her eyes. It was not the rain but tears that did it. She remembered why she did not like monsoon anymore.

Three years ago, her parents were coming to meet her in her college for her graduation. She had been so excited to see her father and mother after a long time. She was trying her robes when she got a call that the car her parents were travelling in was caught in a landslide and they were killed.

She pulled herself together, cleaned up and got ready to go to her office. Her big brown eyes were always filled with joy when she was young. But now, those beautiful eyes shared a mix of the same innocence of the young and the substance of an independent women hardened by what she had experienced in her life.

She came out onto the street. Huge clouds roared ready to pour an ocean in the sky and in her heart. She opened her yellow umbrella and disappeared into the crowd to live that day, just like everyone else did.

The Tribute...

“yakacha woyula?”(Did you come alone?).

That was the last thing she said to me. This was around ten days before it happened. After that day, I only remember her condition getting worse. The doctors gave a very slim chance from the beginning and my family could only speculate what the real cause of this was. She called out the nurses if she was in pain and all the other times there were only muffled sound that made little sense. She stopped talking in Newari and became very fluent in Nepali; which I had seldom heard her use. “Maiya, dukhyo…” (Girl, I am in pain). She used to say to the nurses once her pain medication wore off. Her sons called her. She rarely replied. My heart ached seeing her condition.

I had seen her active and healthy as long as I had known her. She had been very ill before, but I was too young to remember. All I know is, she had one of her kidney and a part of her intestine removed. She also had bad eyesight from her childhood and her hearing had diminished due to her old age. But she was always doing something. I have never seen another person as hard working and strong as her. Most of the people her age are too feeble and ill most of the time. Even in her such old age, she could eat anything and had no problem whatsoever. Her favorite food was black eyed peas and everyone wondered how she could easily digest that amount of protein when most people half her age could not. Another thing she liked very much was listening to Newari songs. A radio was always turned on in her room and whenever she was not working, she was there enjoying the music. And she loved her grandchildren. She had eight grandchildren and she cherished them all very much.

I was very lucky that she loved me too. I remember she used to make sure I got something to eat as soon as I reached her house. She would either start cooking herself or ask one of her daughter-in-law to make me something. She used to complain that I ate very little every time and tell me that a growing kid should eat more. She used to ask me about my school when I was little and then about work after I got old. I used to try my best to answer in broken Newari. I remember very well, that when I was young, she used to give me a polythene bag every time before I went back home. In the back, there would be sweets, biscuits and noodles. I used to open the bag as soon as I reached home to check what she had sent and I used to think that it was my treasure. I still go back to being a small kid when I remember this.

The thing I regret the most now is, growing up, I visited her a lot less. I got busy in studies and building my career and could she her a lot less than before. The bag of sweets stopped coming as I became less interested in them. She used to inquire why I didn’t see her more often and I always had an excuse. Oh! How I wish I had visited her more when I had the chance.

She used to tell me that I was very good and commended me when I got good grades in school. These are the things I will remember very much and drives me. But more than this, what I am proud of is what she said after her last words to me. She was in ICU, in so much pain, unable to talk much but she called the nurse that was looking after her and said, “Woh jimi mhya ya kya” (He is my daughter’s son).

Ten days later, just after nearly a month in hospital, she passed away peacefully. She had been admitted after a small untreated wound caused septicemia and at 6:05 pm, her heart stopped.

She was always an inspiration to me, still is and I am very proud that this strong woman was my grandmother. I hope wherever she is, she is proud of me too.       

Day dream...

This guy disrespected me. He thought I was a pushover so I showed him what I am. I punched him right on the jaw. He seemed stunned for a moment. I started landing more blows before he could recover. I kept hitting him until he fell on the ground. I would have let it go there, but I was not through with him and still furious. So I kicked him. The kick landed on the stomach and he was gasping for air. I do not think I am an evil person but seeing that man on the floor made me very happy. I was actually exuberant. I just kept kicking him. A crowd gathered around us, but I don’t think anyone dared to stop me. I guess they could see that I was very dangerous. That helped my confidence and I started cursing him for disrespecting me. I was so animated, kicking and talking trash about that person. The man started begging for mercy. He was covering his head with his hands. He let out a sharp wail every time my boot hit his body and when I was readjusting my legs, he would apologize.

This kept on for some time. I was very thrilled but not yet satisfied. I was about to kick him again when suddenly a loud horn startled me. Then I snapped out of my imagination and found myself standing on the road staring at the empty space where that person was standing.

Oh god! What the passersby might have thought of me, standing on the middle of the road? I was pretty embarrassed and walked away as fast as I could, thinking how crazy I am. Classic day dream!   

The most beautiful town…

A single look at them and one would think that they did not belong in this beautiful town.

The town was built on a small hill top looking over the beautiful blue sea on the south and majestic mountain range on the north. Early settlers came there from the east and fell in love with the view and the climate. Over the centuries, the craftsmen in the town had built some iconic buildings and monuments. The best part about this place was that the people understood the importance of natural resources and built their town inspired by nature. This town presently had been a major tourist destination attracting people from all over the world.

Nobody knew where they had come from. These two had been seen in the town for the first time. A girl and a boy, they looked similar in age. The girl had long black hair and her face was fair. She had short sleek nose and hazel eyes. The boy had a small childish face and had a darker complexion with small brown eyes. Their clothes were tattered and filthy. If one looked closely, they could see flower prints on the girl’s dress. The boy wore a badly torn shirt and trousers. Their hair was messed up and dirty. It could be assumed that they had not had a proper bath in ages. The boy walked barefooted whereas the girl wore a pair of badly worn shoes.

They walked holding hands and talking to each other. They never cared about what others thought of them.  They didn’t remember when they first met or started loving each other. It felt like an eternity. They had suffered too much pain and sorrow together but they always endured it together. Nobody understood them but they always understood each other. She looked into his eyes and saw the love he had for her. She knew she was his world and that comforted her. Even though she did not have any luxury, he always made her feel like a queen and that feeling was greater than any material wealth on the earth. The thought of this eternal love made her smile.

He never stopped looking at her. The beauty of the town was mesmerizing to everyone but for him, she was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. He could feel all the hardship they had endured on her face but her smile was the brightest beacon of hope for him. He would do anything to see her smile and being there with her made him feel like the luckiest man ever.

Any person that saw them could never understand what they had been through. They only saw two poor people walking on the road who had no business being there. Nobody understood how they felt for each other.

They walked holding hands, talking to each other, not caring about the world, understanding everything they said to each other and also what was not being said. They walked towards the sunset, living in the moment and company of each other, not holding onto the difficult past or knowing what the future held.

Maybe they belonged in the town perfectly. Maybe what made the town the most beautiful place on earth was not just the location, the nature or the monuments, but also having the people who knew how it was to be in love.