September 20, 2011

choose happiness

*crazy laughter facials; runs in the family*
     My mum hates it when I mention her eccentricity to my friends. But, then again, she's such a rich source of material, I can't help but think the universe wouldn't have paired us together without intending me to exploit her insanities for your reading pleasures. I absolutely love her. She's always been there for me and needless to say I've learned a great deal from her.
     I was brought up in pretty liberal family. There's never been the groundbreaking rules set by my parents that I was expected to follow. But, as we all know, the kind of family you grow up in contributes in shaping up your character to lesser or greater degree. Obviously, my family shaped mine too.
     I've been a very happy kid as far as I can remember and one thing my folks (family or friends) know about me is that I value happiness way too much. HAPPINESS, just like any other things (assuming I can call it a thing), doesn't come automatic. You need to choose happiness in order to stay happy. And likewise, my mumsie chooses happiness all the time. She's the happiest person I know. Not that she's not bared and dared the harshness of life. But despite it all, she chose happiness. She almost never complains about anything. She flashes her dental's every chance she gets and people respond accordingly. She laughs and makes sure that people around her gets enough laughter as well. To me, she's the epitome of what this particular quote defines "HAPPIEST OF PEOPLE DOESN'T NECESSARILY HAVE THE BEST OF THINGS, THEY JUST MAKE THE BEST USE OF EVERYTHING THEY HAVE."
     And am glad her character (sort of) rubbed onto me a bit. We are all going to hell anyway (i.e. if you believe in the idea of hell and whichever way you chose to define hell), so we might as well chose ourselves. Chose happiness. Chose things that pamper us and makes us happy. And along the way make sure you share some with others. Stay insanely happy my blog-buds. FYI children call my mum *haasne auntie*

September 15, 2011

*million lil' ways to perceive things*

     Once in a while I love breaking rules just for the heck of it. Come to think of it truth / reality is just the point of view. Any given circumstance can be interpreted in different perspectives. And everyday, we're bombarded with zillion perspectives from media, family, friends, religion - seems like everyone is trying to define what reality is for each of us. And it is up to us to challenge those perspective and accept only the ones that resonate at the personal level.
     They say we believe what we see but in actuality it's the opposite. We see what we believe. So once in a while we need to take a short vacation from the life and re-define our perspective. The delusional perspective that presidents are more important than paupers is just silly. We're all important and our worth is intrinsic. Not that we don't know this already but its amusing to ponder how easily we chose to ignore the fact. Just the other day, one friend bare open one fresh perspective. According to him the world is one big boring place. If you're bored, it says very little about this grand magnificent and dynamic universe. On the other hand, it says a lot about you, your perspective, and your inability to participate in this dance of life. That elders are supposed to be respected - bare in mind, we don't respect age. We respect the knowledge that comes with it. And if the knowledge that comes with age is conservative and not modern parse - we should be able to voice our opinions.
     Rules are fun to break (think bunking classes, sneaking out of home, those balcony smoking sessions). And throughout the history of world, society has made some pretty outrageous rules (women in Nepal, for example, are obvious victims). Rules on religion have clearly crossed the boundaries. Religious rule made centuries ago still dominate the current society. And judging from society's track record, society lapses in the judgement continue through today. Simply put, faith and blind-faith - as we all know - are not exactly the same things. When religious rules take over humanity; its prolly time to re-define the religion or even change it if necessary. Let's not forget, religious books (be it Bible, Quran or Gita) were not handed down from god (however you chose to define god), they were written by mortal hands. So, if necessary, we should be able to question 'em.
     In conclusion, breaking shit is not only fun, but it’s also a necessary ingredient in a life well-lived. We need not ingest everything that society spews in our direction. We have the ability to contemplate perspectives and embody those that we enjoy and break the ones that we don’t. Remember rules around us are worth reconsidering sometimes. There are always million lil' or big ways to perceive things. Chose the one's which resonate well at the personal level.

September 12, 2011


     I was surfing through the net and stumbled upon this particular picture of KATHMANDU (serendipity-like). Absolutely breathtaking. Kudos to the one who clicked and captured it. This is my place, this is the home, this is where my heart belong. I miss you much.

September 11, 2011

*countless needless needs*

     Being human, we've got to follow many of our humanly instincts. We love, hate, cry, rant, rave, complain, smile, laugh, lust. And then there are needs ... ... ... countless needless needs. Need to impress all, need to get the latest gizmo's, need to earn fuck-loads of money, need to buy and collect countless needless things. Talking about collecting needless stuffs ... ... ... last Saturday I and a friend went to Ikea to buy the extra storage stuffs. And a thought hit my mind. I looked around. Beneath those tall ceiling and flashy lights, man from every directions were quietly and carefully picking up something they really didn't need - AN EXTRA STORAGE STUFFS (satisfying there bizarre need to collect countless needless stuffs). If you've ever been to Ikea you know exactly what I mean. Yes, dear readers I've come to the realization that we buy stuffs to store other stuffs. If you think about it, it really is strange. Ikea is filled to the brim with storage solutions like shelves, cupboards and containers. We have so much stuff that we spend money on more stuff, just to put it all in. Ikea even has stuff for your stuff for your stuff. Once, I was flipping through the pages of the book and one particular paragraph read -
Instead of organizing our lives, our energy would be better spent simplifying them… getting rid of anything that isn’t useful, beautiful or joyful. So many times in our materialistic society we spend time on organizing all the stuff we accumulate… clothes, gadgets, etc. Instead of trying to organize all of our “stuff” we could take the time to simplify and donate the things we don’t use or throw out knickknacks and gadgets we don’t use.
     And the heart of the matter is that more we collect things that we really don't need, more time we need to clean 'em, to organize 'em, de-clutter 'em. Which leaves us less time to do the things we really ought to do or love to do. So go back to your storage box that you've been meaning to de-clutter, take a long breath and let go of things you don't need. Keep close to you the things, you think, are joyful and beautiful. Love y'all readers. Much love.

September 6, 2011

*Dairy of a (wimpy) spunky kid*

     A kid goes to the posh and ghetto Bamboo Bar at the Lake side, Pokhara and bugs the hell out of tourists and the owner alike by begging. Later, the same kid steals the kayak from one tourist and drifts along the Phewa Lake waves for hours.
I asked him if he wanted to take a picture with me. He jumped with excitement and started posing sheepishly .
     After hours of hiking I was tired to the point of collapsing. But, I chose to relax at the banks of Phewa Lake instead of Mt. Villa, where I had booked a room. The Mongolian looking guy with typical Pokhreli dialect came running towards me with the large "ca de bou" bull dog. Startled, I looked behind and I saw one small scared kid. The guy with the dog asked the boy, “#$%^, Oe kata ko ghar tero? Bau aama kata ho?” the boy coyly looked at me and stayed silent. The guy continued, “Sale, bol chitto natra yo kukur le tokai dinchu. Ja juicy (dog) ja!!!
     At this point they were literally running in circles (around me). My curiosity became better of me and I finally spoke. I asked the guy with the dog, “Dai, yo kukur le tokcha? Ani naam chai k ho? (I knew the name already)” to which he replied, “Aaah, tokdaina. Daarlagdo dekcha tara gyani cha.”He forgot about the kid and started talking with me but later as the kid laughed, he became furious and told me that the kid had stolen a kayak and bugs ‘em all the time at their working place. I told him to spare the kid just for today and promised to visit his bar lil’ later. As soon as he left, the kid came alive. He told me straight away “Dai maile choreko hoeena. Tyo kuirini le chalauna deko.” I asked him about the begging at Bamboo Bar. He answered, “Dai, khana lai magnai paryo ni. Natra kasri bachne.
     We spoke for a while. Barely ten, this kid spoke with the eloquence of twenty years old. As we were talking I pushed my bag behind me unconsciously and the boy said, “Dai ma kei chordina. Nalukaunu.” I smiled and continued. The kids name was Madan Nepali. He told me he was ten, though he looked much younger. His mum died when he was a toddler and later his dad got married with another woman. The bitch (his words not mine) bit the shit out of him. Even his dad bit him. He showed me the scars on his body and the head. Healed but unbearably brutal. It was his turn now. He asked me about my home, my family, weather or not I could speak English. All along he told me his story. He told me living with dad was like hell. After the landslide destroyed the home, he chose to run away and then came to Pokhara. Few street kids taught him how to beg and since then he’s been doing just that. “Dai, tyo kuire winked at me. English ma boldai theeo. Tapai le bujhyo?” “Dai, tapaiko ghar Kathmandu ho?” “Dai tapai English bujhnu huncha?”… he kept throwing questions at me.
     He continued, “(translated in English) I’ve been to Kathmandu once. Not to the downtown. I took the bus with some groups of people from Butwal. They took me to Kathmandu to work. Later I ran from that place and took the night bus to Pokhara. It was dark so I ran to the bus and hold on to the backside of the bus until I climbed up. It was fun. And about the kayak. I didn’t steal it. I was bored and hence asked the tourist to lent it to me. She did and I kayaked for an hour.” I inquired, “How do you beg?” to which he replied, “I tell ‘em to give me one few dollars. My friends taught me to say this. So I simply brush up my charm and get on to begging. The tee-shirt that you see was given to me by one guy in Kathmandu. He came here in Pokhara and he hired me as his tourist guide. Fella paid me 50 bucks.” He giggled all along.
     I realized it was dark already. “Bhai, I need to go now hai.” He said goodbye but not before asking 50 bucks from me. I gave him two twenty rupee notes. I wouldn’t do that normally. When you give money to beggars it’s like you are encouraging them. But there was something about this kid. I can’t put in words what I was feeling…
     Later that night as I was taking a walk, Pokhara lived up to its expectations… it rained like anything. It was already past midnight. Then I saw a kid  squeezing his orange tee-shirt to rid off water. The place was rather dingy and cold (some ignored corner of posh Lake side area). “Dai”, he called out. I waved at him. It was Madan. I was happy I gave him money. I smiled and continued… all along I thought about million other Madan's and how they deserve the education they are forced to do without... I thought about how encyclopedically a kid like Madan has come to know about ways the world works (bare in mind he is 10)... he has certain charm about him. His fluid sense of time made pinning down the exact sequence of many events almost impossible. I hope he knew his story is being read.