Colors

It is getting colder. Trees lost their leaves. Few sunny glitches still hit the ground, although they are not warm at all. Every morning , coffee comfort me in one way or the other. It does help me to wake up and i love it, when the heat from its hard covered paper glass transfers into my palm, making me ignore the fact that it is cold outside. Summer said goodbye , i am already missing it. Few hard experiences this summer did make me sad, but it didnot let me down. I don't even want to remember what happend or it is worthy to be remembered. We remember only those people and events which are meaningful to our life. Those selfish events and people who look at the other materialistically and for their own benifit are like blood sucking leeches ,better to be forgotten. They can go look for happiness everywhere but they always forget the fact that happiness is all inside their puzzled brain, which is sadly missing.

Well after being ignored and left alone for a long time, i did manage to get up. It was not easy but it was definetly not impossible. I began seeing smile in people's faces after a long time.I was just like a Vampire, after hundred of years of blood sucking misery, finally being able to face the light. We human are so busy with this so called daily life, that we have forgotten the meaning of smile. It is actually effectiver than any medicine in the world. Smile is the joy of being alive. I don't regret even a single day of my life, although it had been more of a rollercoaster ride, with lots of ups ,downs, and rounds.

It suddenly happend one day , without any expection, my heart began smiling without any reason.I saw colors everywhere.It was colorful. Those green- blue colors, deeper than the sea , purer than evening sky. I couldnot even look at it because i was afraid my jealousy would ruin its beauty. I always thought that such beauty was only possible in romantic novels or some famous poet's poem. But i was wrong. It was right infront of me. Those silence moments gave me a whole new perspective how i looked at this world. Without saying anything, it told me everything. I found peace. Those glittering white light struck my eyes. It hugged me without even hugging me. I was falling down into the spongy clouds. I could see myself falling but i never felt any better. I wanted to leave this world for a while. I just wanted to keep on falling. It was like a dream where you never want to wake up . I was nervous. My mind was out of my mind, my mouth had lost it's water. I kept on talking. It didnot say anything, just listened to me silently and smiled right back on me. It was mysterious than mystery itself. Let those millions of Aurther Conan Doyles try writing mystery books,I do not think anything could be more mysterious than this.

We human are greedy. We fought many battles throughout our era. We fought it for our never ending needs. We always want more than we need and even after achieving it, we take it for granted.We are never satisfied. I, myself belong to this catagory . I tried catching these colors and keeping it for myself, hiding it from the world. I didnot want any other living being to see these. I was afraid i would loose it.

I was already addicted to it from the very first time i encountered it. I searched for different reasons to see these . I couldnot hold myself from telling it that , i was falling into it. It understood me, smiled at me , gave me a hope. Future is unpredictable , i don't even want to think about it. Past had faded away like those sand castles flushed by the sea water. I live for now. I am glad i still can see it. Thank you !

Thank you Bua

From the time i have known him , he has always been the same. He and his motorbike took my mother to different hills and dales all around Kathmandu. I've always had the feeling that my father could never really grow old. I still picturise him as an active guy,very much separated from all social burdens , carefree, whom i could ask to take me to places, solve my problems which i really couldnot face. We were pretty much all dependant on him. I could count plenty of things in life that were impossible without him directly or indirectly behind.

The face was full of wrinkles, he was thin, he gained white hairs and moustache. My heart broke into pieces. I was looking at the same guy whom i pictured as an active man, who never wanted to grow old. He was tired and exhausted as he had recently recovered from clot in Brainvessel, which Doctors regarded as a first stage of Brainhaemorrahge. I had the feeling that i could never see him again. I was happy and sad at the same time because my father had really changed.

As a kid, i was pretty much scared of the wedding music and the music which were played during the local festivals. I always gained the feeling that something different was happening, something different than the day before. It scared me. During the local jatra(festival) , where natives carried goddess of this town to the nearby town to organise her marriage with the god of that next town, and brought her back home the next day during the night with music, my father wanted me to see the occasion. I still remember how i hid behind him, late in the middle of night , rubbing my eyes , where he grabbed my hand, and how i silently peek a boo'd from his back. And he smiled looking at me below(Although i could count only very few occasions where he really smiled ). I always gained the feeling of security with him on my back.

He talked very little. Since my Sister, her husband and two kids started living in New Jersy , it has been hard for him. He loved those two kids more than anything else in life. Although he never admitted it, i could see it in every move he made. He went to the cupboard where all those toys from these kids were kept , he picked one of those rubbed them a bit and put them back, but he never told a thing.

He normally woke up early in the morning, went to the Kathmandu Asan Bazar, where local vendors sold those fresh green vegetables and fruits. He bought plenty in the morning and brought jeri swari( a form of local sweet) each time he came back. As kids, we were very excited and waited for Bua(father in Nepali)s arrival. I remember looking down from the balcony of my old home and telling my mother who was in Kitchen, bua is back. I wished i could turn back time to live the moments again..

Rememberance

The Sweetness of Rasbari greeted me every night with the goodnight. My mother bought it from the old Sweet shop in my neighborhood which stood in the same place for many years. Sweet makers even knew me. They smiled at me every time I came across. I was shy and used to hide behind my mother , peeking slowly from behind.

My relationship with the sweets has always been intimate. There are some tiny little things in life that i can't forget. I remember those cold winter mornings, when I used to wake up with the ringing bells from our praying room with sweet smell of incense. I rubbed my eyes and went directly to my mother , who used to be in the kitchen and hugged her tightly. She prepared meanwhile warm tea for the whole family. Almost every winter morning on our balcony , a bowl of iron was used for burning firewood and coals. Me and my sisters used to sit right next to it to make ourselves warm enjoying the freshly prepared black tea with cardamons.

I never liked going to school. There was nothing better in the world for than to stay at home with my mother and watch her do kitchen and household stuffs. She completely disagreed of course. I had to come with an idea . Early in the morning I used to pretend that I had some random sickness. She found out most of the times but sometimes it did work. The best part was that I used to get up as soon as my school bus went away. She hated it but later she would forget about it.

We always had American and English Students at our home. We were host family for those students and of course I used to enjoy a lot every time we had one. It was perhaps the best possible way for me to learn their language. I learned most of the English because of it as well. I could never forget the first time , when I ate pasta. A girl from Connecticut made some pasta for us. It was an amazing dish with lots of tomato sauce and cheese, in comparison to what we normally ate at home. In Nepal , people eat normally rice two times a day with lots of vegetables and pulses. Pasta was of course something new.

I started playing tennis. I came in contact with a 70 year old tennis teacher who had his own tennis club within a school and with the help of my sister who used to teach small children in his school. The old man was very nice and gave me free tennis lessons. Sometimes he did loose his temper when we kids made mistakes but nevertheless its humane. I even brought Tennis Racket and Balls back home and he never said anything about it. He had passion for sport and very healthy guy indeed.

My parents did not like the idea that I was getting much deeper into my interests rather than thinking something practical. Tennis is considered as one of the most expensive sports and for the middle class family like mine, it was impossible to afford the costs of the game. It is considered as the game of the high class society in Nepal and there are few tennis courts available in 5 Star Hotels. With the help of my coach, I did manage to get into these courts where I saw few handful of Nepalese and the rest were all foreigners. I saw white kids same age as mine, practicing and playing with their parents supporting around them. White kids always made a group , no one talked to me. I just stood in the corner. I did not have proper tennis outfit as well. Anyways I entered the tournament and won few rounds. I did not dare to tell my parents because they hated it so much. Well I had to quit. I don't regret it because from my point of view I lived Agassi Moments. I regret nothing out of life.