A Song

I returned from my office. Work pressure was overcoming my grace. My life had become hectic. How much I tried to get rid of it, I was more and more into it. My optimism was in vain. My desire was strangulated and I was suffocating.

As I entered into my evening class, I was half an hour late for the first lecture, so thought quitting it.

I came to balcony of my two storey block and entered in an empty class. I was with my ear piece on and trying to enjoy some songs in my mobile. Solitude in the room was like a boon and a sigh of immense relief towards hostility of my life. So I kept enjoying it.

My song was spontaneously playing.

“Ma timro sahar chodi tadha tadha jadai chhu                                             (I am going far away abandoning your city

Timi sanga kahilei nabhetne kasam khadai chhu”                                         I’ll never meet you I swear)

“Timi lai dil dida sajaya maile paaye “                                                             (I gave you my heart so I’m banished)

I plunged into the song, visualized myself in the character. I felt as If I am the protagonist in the song. Now I am about to leave my town and going far away from her. I kept promise not to meet her ever.    

What a song, so sonorous, so heart rending and depicting picture of pure tragedy and loneliness. My surrounding became so nostalgic then. Sadness filled in my face. Once my friend Beejay said “Songs are reflection in the mirror “. That moment felt like I was looking in the mirror. I was diluted into the song.

My eyes were outside the window in the tree. A bird was trying to pluck a balled fist shaped fruit. Whether its beak was weaker or its inevitability that, it should not desire and dream impossibility. I couldn’t stop laughing at it.

May be I was literally laughing at me……………………………………………………………. 

That’s why it’s called family

I hated my sister. She had always a tricky and manipulative mouth for what I do and what I choose. She always intervened in my personal interest and choice. When with T.V, it used to be like a battle for the shows. If I thought she is enjoying the show, intentionally I changed the channel and she did too. I never liked to go school with her together but was my compulsion. (When I grew up, I caught my friend’s troop to go with). My parents used to give money for our Tiffin. My sister used to carry the money because I wasn’t worthy enough in comparison and she was eldest too. She used to buy me food what mother said to eat, that really used to irritate me.

                One day I asked my mother for my part of money. Surprisingly she gave that day. I was happy that I could now buy food by my own. We had separate money that day. I felt I was independent now. I grinded my teeth as a victory sign. In school, I was just waiting for break, showed money to my friends because that was a matter of prestige in childhood. I was really pompous that day.

                When sir left the class, I was the first to line up in the canteen. I ordered my favorite samosas. My hand sneaked into my pocket but it was empty. I was paralyzed. I ran into my classroom and searched the whole class but was empty handed. I felt like crying. That cry neither was for any demand to parent nor to win over sister. It had a different taste and pain. Now I was frantically crying. I had no money left to buy food and that made me much hungrier. Somebody reported to my sister and she appeared in my class in no mean time. I told her everything and she quietly gave her money to me. I was tremendously hungry. I wiped my tears and ran to canteen. Finally I ate my samosas.

                In that panic circumstance and a strong hunger drive, I forgot my sister about what she would eat because I expensed her money. I had completely forgotten that she gave her part of money. My freak childish mind. When we came back to home, my poor sister ran hurriedly inside. I became really suspicious that she would tell to mom. But instead she cried: “Mum, what’s there to eat? I’m bit hungrier today”.

And I felt really guilty that day for what I used to think about my sister

subhash thapa magar.

ONCE

It was almost evening. I was walking lousily. I couldn’t even figure out where I was wandering ‘cause all I have was stress of life triggering my mind. My work, my studies, my life all was spontaneously pushing me beyond my control. Clumsy walking on an empty lane………..no friends…………no money………..no identity…..nothing at all…………was in total despair…………thought it was the opening ball to my first stage of depression…………………..walking……..walking…..walking………suddenly big drops of rain spattered my head……… rained heavily ………….I was afraid of  being soaked…………..’cause I was a prominent victim of sinus and cold and also  wasn’t wet for pretty long………vigorously I ran………….was leaping like a leopard to avoid stagnant water and swampy bumps………….I remembered I used to be a footballer many years back in school……came to remember school days and friends……..automatic smile reflexes…….now I felt happier and thought to enjoy the rain ……I reduced my velocity……..damn to sinus, damn to cold. Now my pain vanished ‘cause the word LIFE  wasn’t in my mind but was enjoying the beautiful and artistically sprinkling  rain……rain……rain……..

subhash thapa magar

Glimpse of Glory

Curiosity has been the most priority for the entire explorer who unraveled earth. Life dazzles if curiosity sneaks to priority and landed on success plus discovery, so is the case to me. I always wanted to explore, especially Mother Nature and go through all the mysteries of it.

It’s been nearly a decade when one of my query transformed into a beautiful memory always sticks in my mind. I can’t say it a grave mistake but it was really a mischief to involve some of my best buddies I had. As we were the nearby resident of Swoyambhunath Stupa, we always had a dream to see Kathmandu city at night from the top of Swoyambhunath, that’s why our plans weaved and program fixed.

I with my three other friends, decided to climb up  Swoyambhunath before dusk, stay till dusk changes  into night and see the beautiful Kathmandu valley. We were bit more excited than usual. We often used to climb up the hill but that day was very special to us since it was very first evening climb to Swoyambhunath.

We climbed according to our plan. It was just an end of the day when we started.  We were really happy and curious that day. Even the tiresome stairs became no problem at all. We reached onto the top soon and decided to wait till the dusk changes into darkness and see the glowing blubs in street and small houses of Kathmandu valley. Now we had to wait only…..

It takes no time to pass the day if you aren’t waiting but if you are, it definitely takes you long.

Earlier, all of us were happy and excited but when an hour passed, excitement started to turn into wrinkles. Louder voices and cracking of jokes deemed. Flocking people to the stupa now started to climb down. But still much time left we guessed to be completely dark.

“Let’s get down”- yelled one my friend but we were determined. Of all sudden a tiny droplet stroke on my cheek and rolled down. “What the hell!” my friend Beejay groaned. “Is it going to rain? How pathetic!” I murmured. We hadn’t expected the rain but may be fate had already planned. I felt little awkward. I couldn’t call off the program since I was too much curious to behold the scene.

 Wind was howling from early in the evening but we didn’t even bother to have a quick notification that it would rain. That became our mistake then. Now the tiny droplet became prominent. We quickly found shelter under the roof of a temple.  Rain showed its face. Atmosphere unexpectedly changed the face as if it suddenly lost its patience. Slight rain changed into downpour. Sky was totally cloudy, thundering and drizzling now and then. It seemed almost impossible to carry on our mission.

Now, we were like the defeated soldiers hopeless, pathetic and despair. We decided to wait until rain stops. I always am happy when it rains but for that rain; I cursed. Half an hour passed no sign to stop raining. We were becoming late by the time. Heavily heartedly we decided to call off our voyage (I want to call it as a voyage because it was like a voyage for us) and backed off. We were waiting for the rain to stop but no sign to stop. Some how rain managed to slow down and we speeded up to climb down. It is too risky to climb down on the stairs of Swoyambhunath in rain because some parts are almost vertical and possibility of slippery is there. Pit falls and bumps might cause hazards so we were little cautious to haphazard walking as we usually did.

We safely climbed down all the stairs but still rain wasn’t stopped. We rushed towards our home. Worst of all, in the middle of our way, suddenly rain again agitated. Now this time not just only the rain, it was along with mighty hailstone. I knew that hailstone usually comes before rain but that day was little different. We were hit by the rain first and hailstone afterwards. Now we were desperately running on the swampy road (usually almost all the roads of Kathmandu is swampy in rain). Hailstone was pattering roads, vehicle and mercilessly to our heads. We couldn’t even find a shelter to protect our head and were totally panic.

Fortunately we found an Inn (pati). We rushed in. we were shivering out of cold. After some time, rain finally stopped and we safely returned home. We thanked to Buddha. Definitely we weren’t enjoying at that moment but when I recall this now, I quiet feel refreshing and nostalgic for those days. Thanks to my friends who always are with me even in these kind of moments………….but exploration is not finished yet…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

subhash thapa magar

God and Human

Up there is a big temple with a big shrine. Painted and polished just like a gentleman’s black shoe. Down there is a small temple with a steeple curved and bent as if it topples down. Daily it’s like a fair in the big temple engulfed with pleasant adore of incense, sonorous chanting of verses, singing of hymn etc. But what a pity to the small and the old one where hardly few lousy women would bend their head. But interestingly, both temples are of lord Shiva.

People worship that temple, pay homage, pilgrims come from far away. The temple is always full of devotees. Milk and sweets are offered to god Shiva. Fruits and flowers cover the idol. People believe in god. They go on worshipping and worshipping because they have to wash away their sin or have to complete their vow and pray for something. It seems those milk, sweets, flowers and even money offered to the god are like bribing god to fulfill their needs and desires.

They believe someday they will get salvation and wash away their sin, so they are on their way to hard penance and worship to get the god and his grace.

Temple is again full today. Comparatively bit more people than usual, since it’s a sacred day and people believe it’s the best day to worship.

Bells are being banged. Whole temple is covered with the flock of devotee with fruits, milks, sweets, money etc. sacred verses and spells are being chanted. Some people are quarreling for the line to worship, blaming each other for trespassing the line and row.

An old man, completely in a rags from top to the toe, face full of white beard and moustache; squatting, needless to say he is a beggar. His hands are trembling, vividly showing his hunger and weakness. Scruffy hairs, stinking unpleasantly in such a way anyone can sniff two miles away. His eyes are anticipating mercy for food and hands are continuously begging for alms. Alas, nobody bother even to glace him. He is wishing if somebody feeds him.

He is continuously begging people. Once in a while he gets but many of the time empty handed. He is continuously staring at the effigy of lord shiva, over flooded by sweets (laddu), flowers, money, milk and fruits. He wishes if he could eat those things given to the idol. Near the temple there’s a small restaurant (Bhatti) full of sweets and fast food items. A fat middle aged man is yawning in the counter, sometime swings his baton to the monkeys wandering around.

The poor beggar, gazing at the sweets offered to lord shiva, takes a gulp of saliva and what else he can do. He feels human has love and respect to only the idol of god. Human don’t walk on the right way shown by the god but instead commit lots of insane and unraveled sins and finally join the long line in the temple to wash them out.

The whole day this old fellow stays perceiving human and their love for god. Inside the temple, god is full of fruits and foods, outside, the beggar is dying of starvation. God has majestic home i.e. temple but this old fellow is homeless, foodless. Everybody is caring and worshipping god inside but outside not even a single one turning eye to the poor man. No pity at all. Inside, the idol is washed by milk, outside no water even to quench the thirst of that poor beggar. Flock of people lining to worship and offer things to the idol but no single hand to tame the old beggar’s wounded heart…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Suddenly, the old beggar raises his body. Sluggishly, gazes at the temple and effigy of the god. Surprisingly, he has might to stand and walk now. It seems the mighty falcon is about to hover around the blue horizon. Now he is heading back from where he came. Astonishingly, his steps are not like the old beggar’s earlier but like the fastest leopard leaping and heading to the unknown destination……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

subhash thapa  magar

A story

A story

It’s been 10 years; I haven’t met her even once. When I saw her with no any reason at all so sudden, I could hardly believe my eyes. She turned so bounded housewife. I then plunged into those memories that I tried to erase but I couldn’t.

The day was so bright, beautiful and charming when I first asked her for a date. It hadn’t been so long being friends but we were close enough to ask her a favor.  It was my very first day for a date and she Okayed with no any sign of hesitation. What fascinated me towards her I never tried to probe it. I was just driven crazy about her with no reason at all. She was not even a beauty of my class nor was I.

The day we went out for the first time was a park bit away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Whether the day was glowing or I was with her alone I couldn’t stop admiring the beauty of nature myself. We were talking so closely as if we were well known for many years. I was determined that day, I would express her. My little inexperienced mind triggered me; that’s the opportunity to disclose her how much I love her and want to live rest of my life happily forever with her . I thought she wouldn’t have come or have denied my proposal for a day visit, if she didn’t have any feeling towards me. I was searching for the apt timing and a topic to express her.

We started in the morning. We talked about trees, about plants, about birds and the beautiful flowers. Morning broke into the bright day. Day turned into a beautiful evening. We passed our childish days and memories but the rose in my heart was still left to bloom and finally dusk made its merciless entrance but still I was wondering what to say. The time had come to say good bye but I was still searching for the words.

 I got some guts out of nowhere but still my heart was pounding so rigorously. When it was exactly the time to say bye, words suddenly slipped from my lips: “I… lo..ve… you”. Instantly I pretended as though I was murmuring. She turned her face, filled with exclamation and terror. She replied, “What?” I thought she didn’t get it and suddenly I burst without a second delay “nothing”. She gazed me with a peculiar eyes, breathed a deep sigh and raised her hands to greet me bye. It seems she was thanking me for the day break.

               From that day she didn’t show up next time. She had written a letter for me. Finally I got the letter from her friend. The letter explained her heart, her feelings and everything. She was from an orthodox religious family where her religion did matter rather then her feelings. Her community was different from my community and I was a guy from another religion. She had that compulsion not to marry a man different to her religion. I was aghast. “Does really religion matter?”. I wondered why for many minutes but what I could do. Her family thought it as a sin to marry another guy not alike her.

She was bounded. Nothing else she could do, just to be the puppet of her family. She couldn’t revolt since she was a responsible daughter of her family. Her desires and wants were just mere towards her family responsibility. What her family anticipated, she couldn’t go betraying them and I also dared not to force her. After all she was bound to abandon me though she liked me. I was stroke as if a mighty tornado caught me and rampaged me with no mercy at all. I finished her letter and was finished too. Since then she vanished leaving me half dead. I could do nothing, nothing just to walk on the same lane where I used to wander.

I was aghast when I saw her today after so long. She was also in the same town where I have been and now I came to believe this world is too big. She also couldn’t believe her eyes. We couldn’t exchange a word though we encountered each other. She was trying to say something; her eyes seemed to be guilty. She frantically said “hi”, how have you been?’, and my throat soared. My heart rendered. I couldn’t even reply back. We paused. After a while I got some guts and had small conversation.

            “I haven’t seen you so long. Where have you been? What are you doing?” my questions came in rush like a horse without rein. She just replied patiently-“fine and you?” she didn’t answer my all question. A minute talking meant a lot to me that time. I realized this is the life and everyone has to walk with it. Sometime time is ours and many times it is not.

            We raised our hands to greet our final bye. I couldn’t ask for a date and she couldn’t reply me okay.

                                                                                                                         

subhash thapa magar