Playing Life

Sunday and I am at work. My grandmother's voice rings in my ears. I see her everyday in my dreams. I wish I could be like her.She is childish, very original and always innocent.She does not recognize money bills. Like a blind person, she touches and feels the money.Infact, the money never had any value to her.She just wanted to keep money. she never had to use it however; she was always provided.

I remember her wanting some jewelries and my fathers and aunts would take her to jewelry shop and buy some gold. She would be happy but her happiness would only last for a week.She would get bored. "Repetition creates boredom" she said. She wants something different, a neckless this time, or a ring. But the same story would be repeated next week. But everyone in our family respected that. They enjoyed it. The playfulness of childish innocent behaviors are the best. They are the original human nature. I liked how she played her game.

I always wonder how my grandmother keep her childish innocence to this day, never really affected by outside world. Very happy within, she had very abstract spirituality in her, not caring about human perfection, not caring about how immature she looks.Here I am too worried about future, selfishly, foolishly, and indecisively running here and there for carnal issues. I feel like a pendulum in space- somewhat of "jack of all , master of none"- trying for human perfection, looking for love, prosperity, good life among people. I really don't know what that means. When weekend finally arrives, a bunch of Nepalese people living in next apartment block drink, and yell and use profanity and sleep around. Weekend is theirs "sleeping around" time. Few girls wear glasses bigger than their face, wear clothes shorter than panties and post million pictures in facebook... That is their definition of happiness and great American life. Few friends made enough money putting tape in their shoes and stealing money from grocery stores where they worked. They want green card now, as if their quest will be fulfilled by that."Wow I am fully Americanized, Thanks God" one of facebook friend posts in her wall. She is kissing another girl, beer in one had,  cigarette in another and the clothes she is wearing makes it look like she is homeless, or just came out of jungle age. Nepalese people have Americanized themselves a little bit differently. And my cousin made me laugh whole Saturday when he said-- "Oh mercy! American people also get old". We were in tax office, waiting in a line. An old guy, who was also deaf was standing behind us. That old guy was wearing a pant, and did not have a belt on him. So with a safety pin he had held it together on his waists. Wrinkles in his pants... Poor old man... his wife called his hundred times, before he finally saw her and went to her... holding his pants with one hand, cane in other. My Cousin got his Buddha instinct, I guess. I felt pity but I knew about oldness already. If people knew about old age and death, it could have helped. My grandfather said: "if people feel for a year, the same feeling they feel when they come back from a funeral, world would be dramatically changed. There will be no wars, poverty, temptations, selfishness, greed, crime, sufferings, jealousy... no evil at all. All worldly desire would end. This world would turned to a heaven. "

I really don't know what Americanizing means. Money, green card, women, cars, houses and all the materialistic attraction means just temptation. That is not my way. But you got to  have the minimum required. Man can live without food for 10-15 days, but shall we not eat because eating is just wasting? Man can go without water for a week probably, shall we not drink when we are thirsty??. The intensity of our quest define us who we are. Now if I have to explain my grandmother about Americanizing, I don't think I can do justice. On top of that, I don't think she will want to know. I doubt about the fairness of treatment of fate, people get in this world. I can't do nothing but witness. All my writings are nothing but a phenomenon, a low product of ignorance, dissatisfaction of the world, disagreement with God but compliance, kind of foolishness- like a Hindu going to a temple and shaking a rock in there or striking his head against it and asking ---- WHY GOD WHY WHY? I don't think God lives there. By the way,  I told this to so called Nepalese society members who are collecting dollars, trying to build a temple that God does not live there but Nepalese politicians can be as stiff as a cat. They are as stiff as Saddam Hussein or Gadaffi. Until the end, they will stand. Many of American friends ask me why Nepalese are so brave. I answer them-because they are foolish, as simple as that. They don't know the definition of braveness. They go whole heatedly, brainwashed- in wars, in politics, in America... I mean wherever they go, they go without surrendering, without knowing what they are doing. Pure Neplalism will never be changed.

But if facebook makes them mini-celebrities and if they are happy in their findings, why do I bother. People preaching me about Nationality, Religion, value of a green card, green money, are still hopeless, while I am happy about something else they always ignored. I don't care about things they long even in their dreams. I long for something else. Salvation, pure joy, a bliss that can't be disturbed for eternity. Green things are for them... I just hope that God does not show me Red Card prematurely, like they did to Zidane. That is what I fear because world is not always fair. I have no big dreams, no desire to become rich, no houses to built, no history to write. When I die here, its finished here but not everywhere. Something never dies. Somewhere it will ever be present. Till I am here, I try my best. I will keep counting, I rejoice on what I have and I am slowly preparing myself for ultra violet card not just red, if there is any such thing. I will put my own case to God. I will speak for myself. If I am assured that Jesus, dying on the cross had already put my case in progress, I am speechlessly honored everyday. This is how I play life.

Dashain

"Meet me at my apartment" he said on the phone and hung up.

It was time of utter depression. Nothing was going in his favor.  School was going rough. Parents were getting old and crazy, back home. His long time girl friend was in a brink of leaving him. So many "Nepalese Americans" were seeking a bride for their sons. "Who knows?" he thought- although she seems reluctant to marry now, she probably has greed of green card and what not. Her sole dream was to become a millionaire. Still somewhere in his heart, he consoled himself spiritually that she was never going to leave him. She was the only person, who he could share his misery, and cry. "She can feel my pain" he thought.

His apartment was dark. A florescent light in the kitchen was the only light. Sink was full of dirty dishes and when he turned on the light, a herd of roaches started jumping and running towards dark corners.  Smelly clothes were scattered everywhere. Even the bedroom smelt of poverty and depression. His roommates were not home yet. It was already ten.

He went to the shower before she arrived and knocked on the door.

"What is the plan?" she asked.

"There is no plan" he said. "There is too much to plan here. I can't wash their dirty dishes. Its late and  am tired. See how my apartment looks."

"Same here", she said, "my apartment is replica of this one. Roommates have gone to their boyfriends' home. I think they have party there. There are dirty dishes and noone is cleaning them. I am not their servant."

The empathy was always there. For many years, he had enjoyed those moments. He was satisfied within.

A long silence followed.

"Do you know how to prepare tika?" he asked.

"Yeah, she said hurriedly, "but for jamara, we can go to the Nepalese store and borrow some."

"Okay, I got an exam tomorrow. Let's do it quick."

They went to the Nepalese store.  That store always had jamara grown for Dashain every year.

A middle aged man was with his wife in there. The shopkeeper was talking on the phone very loudly. He looked at them dryly after he closed his cell phone. They bought some food and sweets. The man was rude. He looked bored and he smiled sarcastically when they asked for some Jamara. His wife was trying to hide her husband's rudeness.

"Babu happy dashain to you, here is some Jamara".

The shopkeeper stared at his wife but did not say anything. They left.

Driving back, he said -"See, how a woman has to harmonize a man. If it was not for her wife, noone would go to that store. He is so rude. He does not know about customer service. But because of that woman, he is surviving. He is nothing. Noone likes him. He is so anti-social and he makes wicked comment about other Nepalese living in USA."

"Hmm, may be... She agreed. "He looks depressed though, he sounded poignant and hostile to the person he was speaking with on the phone."

Another silent minute followed.

"By the way did you call home?" she asked.

"No, not really"

"Why?"

"It is very melancholic at home. They are still worrying about my sister. I feel sad for how they think about love."

"Why can't they accept? She is gone and if she is happy with the guy, why worry?"

"It is not easy. They are brain washed. Its their way of thinking. Love is not bigger than their caste and their social standing."

"Don't worry time changes and there is always hope. Hope is extraordinary. Things will change. Lets hope and pray."

He looked at her eyes. There was not enough light inside the car, still he could see the glow.  Her brown eyes were watery but firm.  He felt a breeze of strong current sweeping inside him, and slowly he pulled the car into a dark parking lot of a shopping complex.

"Why did you stop here?" she asked.

"Lets celebrate Dashain here" he said.

"But may be your roommates want to join at your apartment. We can share this food; there is plenty."

He disagreed "They never buy anything for me, why would I give them anything? Have they ever cleaned the kitchen?  Have they ever shared with me anything? Have they ever offered me any food they cook? Have they ever acted like cultured Nepalese who would feel ashamed to go to prostitutes instead of staying in home and celebrating on their biggest festival? Is there anything subtle about them, that I can admire and say- oh yeah brothers, lets share our greeting and well wishes? Is there a single day when they have agreed to sit down together and just have dinner?"

"But they call you brother and respect you, may be they want to put tika from you."

"You don't understand" he said. That is all political. It is just formality. They just do it because they are weak now and they need my help somehow. The day, they grow some thigh muscle, they will disappear. They have no respect, no compassion, and no sympathy. They are animals. ....Just idiots who think that I fall for their drama and keep helping them. "

"You are full of negative thoughts and hate, just like that shopkeeper." She shook her head and sighed.

He shouted at that point. "Why do you think I should have a high opinion of people who I consider shoe dirt, little cowards who are pretending to be my well-wishers, so jealous of me and waiting to stab me any minute?"

"Don't shout at me. They are your friends. You need them."

"I don't need anyone. I don't have any friends." He said firmly.

"What about Baikuntha?" She asked. Do you not consider him to be your friend?"

"Whooo... he is ashamed of his own name. What do I expect of him? He is already planning to stab my back."

"Biren?"

"He does not have time for me. He is ladies' man. Although not a stabber, he is indifferent. I don't like apathetic people."

"What about Milan, Santa, Sandip, Ram, Bimal, Krishna, Bikesh ...." she mentioned several other names.

"Bullshit... Everyone has a motive behind friendship. What kind of friendship are you talking about? When good things sway away, noone will be there. Everyone is running after something, either prestige, or money or green card or prostitutes. Everyone is a selfish piece of shit. I do not trust anyone. I am my own best friend."

"What about me?" she calmly asked.

A long sigh whistled. A long silence followed.

"You are the only one I can trust. When every time, things go out of control, I can come to you and cry. You called me crazy but you listen. You don't approve my opinion but you harmonize me. I am so dark and everyone is a stranger to me. I just know you. I am imperfect and yet you complete me with your company. It is the radiance of companionship that I look from you, nothing else. I just want to remain in your presence and feel safe."

He took her hand and kissed it.

Both looked at each other. He was tearful yet did not want to cry. She was flowing already.  Seeing her weep broke his heart.

"That uncle called again, she said, "...and sent pictures of his son."

Again silence followed.

"How does he look?"

"He is dark" she said and laughed.

"So...?"

'I told his father that I am not interested in getting married now. Come back after I finish school. Then he started taking to me about how I could get citizenship if I marry him soon. What a moron! I am not going to answer his calls now." she said.

He looked at her and gave a faint smile.

"You don't trust me, do you?" She asked.

He just smiled.

"Oh... you don't get it. It hurts when you do that. You smile at my details and why do you think I am here with you in the dark parking lot? What do I have to do to prove my innocence?"

"Oh no. I trust you..."

"All my actions are real and whatever I tell you comes from my heart. There is nothing to hide. To be honest you are also my only friend. Who do I talk to, if you were not here for me? I would be so lonely. There are so many hungry jackals looking at me and salivating. I hate Nepalese guys on how they look at lonely girl who is living far away from parents. I have noone but you. You are my only true companion who has not desired for anything except friendship from me."

"I love you" he said after the pause.

"I love you too."  She said.

Then they put tika and jamara and asked for blessing. He prayed and asked for blessing, "May you become a millionaire."

And she said "May you become what you desire."

Both then wished that their next Dashain would be celebrated in a happy setting. Dashain celebration in a foreign land is hard on itself but when there is noone to celebrate, it is harder.

It was time to part.

"I don't wish to go to my apartment. Those bitches make my life miserable. I feel like I am living in hell. So you don't worry, you are not alone. I know exactly how you feel. I am with you. Trust me I will always be with you." she said.

She wanted to stay in that dark parking lot for a while but it was already late, and he also needed to study. He dropped her and went back to his apartment.  It was midnight and his roomies were still not in. He went to his room. He wanted to study but could not stop thinking about her.

"I really trust her. She is my only friend. And no matter what, she has always been with me.  She has helped in my darkest hours. She is my soul mate. Even a little unintended suspicion is a sin. She can't lie. She is an angel. "He said to himself.

Next day, after taking his exam, he came home. He had some new energy flowing. A new hope had germinated in his soul. He was very blissful. He thanked God for everything he had gotten in his life.

He then logged into facebook to kill some time. And alas, he did see something that disturbed his heart. In one of their common friend's profile, there was an album named Dashain, dated the previous day, and timed around midnight. And there she was tagged in pictures of her in many poses and different clothes with Tika and Jamara, pictures of her and her roomies making faces, kissing each other, pictures of them snatching chicken thighs, pictures of them showering with champagne, drinking beers, and pictures of them celebrating Dashain in their way. And it looked like they were very proud and happy about it.

A cruel chill swept his brain. He went to shower and wept bitterly. What for, he did not know.

20th May 20, 2011

Irving, Texas

आत्महत्या

जीवनका प्रत्यक मोडहरुमा

उकाली र ओरालीहरुमा

हरेक पटक

हार पछी घाटाको सन्धी गरेर

एउटा खाडल खन्छु,

फेरी पुर्छु,

निरन्तर खाल्डा खनिरहन्छु,

र आफ्नै पानी खाने इनारमा पर्छु ।



कहिले दुनियासँग

कहिले भागवानसँग

जीवनको अर्थ खोज्छु,

कहिले आफैसँग भुत्भुताइरहन्छु,

प्रेम्, बध्यता, कर्तब्य र धर्मका सिधान्तहरुमा

म तर्क बितर्क गरिरहन्छु,

कती कमजोर छ भाग्य

आफ्नै मुटुमा ढुङामुडा गरिरहन्छु |




ईश्वर!

आउ र मलाई बचाउ,

मेरा तुहिएका सपनाहरुमा

मेरा काठयाङग्रीएका बिपनाहरुमा

कुनै कर्मयोगको मलम लगाउ ।



म
प्र|र्थना गरिरहन्छु,

अनिश्चित आशमा

आत्माकै बाटो हिडिरहन्छु,

म अरबौ सेनाहरु ढलिसकेर

युदको मैदानमा बचेको फगत एक्लो

योद्दा हुँ दुर्योधन जस्तै ,

त्यसैले त हार्ने युद्द पनि

अन्तिम सम्म लडिरहन्छु ।



म पापी त हैन,

म सँग पाप छैन,

एउटा पिलन्धरे कवि न हुँ,

म आफ्नै मृत कबिताहरुमा

प्रत्यक दिन बाचिरहन्छु,

ईश्वर! तिमीले दया नगरुन्जेल

म तिम्रै निम्तोमा

एक पछी अनेक आत्महत्या गरिरहन्छु ।



April 21, 2011

Irving, TX

हजुरबासंग

गुनासा नै गुनासाका चाङ्गबाट

एउटा गुनासो झिकेर,
आंखाभरि कल्पनाको स्वर्ग रचेर
आफ्नो स्वर्गे हजुबासंग
एकान्तमा भनें-
हजुरबा
यहां मेरो आंखाले केही पाएन,
मेरो आत्माले केही भेट्ाएन,
म जहां थिए त्यही छु,
म जस्तो थिएं त्यस्तै छु,
एक पाईला अघि बढ्न सकिन,
एक पित्को प्रगति गर्न सकिन
तुच्छ कांडा सम्झेर
दबाइदिने उदेश्यले
जिवनका फजितिहरु कुल्चिदिएको थिएं,
तर उर्जाशिल निर्दोष समय
फूल बनेर बसेको रहेछ,
पाप र पश्चातापले मुटु पोल्यो
तालका छालसिर
मेरो लक्ष्य हराईरह्यो,
कुन्नि के प्रेरणाले
फूल टिप्न खोजें
तर मुटुभरी कांडा बिझ्यो
कांडा त निकाले
बिष छाडेर गएछ,
बिझायो, चर्यायो, पोल्यो
हजुरबा साह्रै गाह्रो भयो ।



हजुरबा
यहां मेरा लागि केहि छैन,
मेरो लागि कोहि छैन,
मेरो मनमा
स्वार्थी चन्द्रमा उदाएन,
मेरो भावनामा
कुनै सूर्य पनि आएन,
झिल्मिलाउने कल्पना
मसंग नियासि्रन्छ,
तिर्मीराउने महत्वकांक्षा
पटक्कै रमाउदैन
मेरो आत्मा
उदासिनता तिर ढल्केको छ,
पराइ आत्मा संग हो या
परमात्मासंग पल्केको छ,
त्यसैले म आफूलाई
आफैसंग राख्न
नपिएको अमृतको
स्वाद चाख्न
विकल्प खोजिरहेछु ।



हजुरबा
तपाइ त
अनगिन्ती ताराहरुमा रमाउनुहुन्छ,
नक्षत्रमण्डलमा शासन गर्नुहुन्छ,
तपाइ र मेरो तुलना छैन
म त दरिद्र छु: माग्ने न हुं
तपाइ र म रगतको नाता थियौं
चाहे त्यसकै मसिले होस,
तपाइ र म भावनामा नजिक थियौं
चाहे त्यसकै कसीले होस,
एउटा बहाना बनाइदिनुहोस-
न पापी चन्द्र न स्वार्थी सूर्य
टिलपिलाउने तारा झारीदिनुहोस
म क्षितिजमा पर्खिरहुला………………

२०५६-३-१७

प्रेमको गीत

मैले एकपल्ट देखेथें

तिम्रो आंखाभरि

सायद

पि्रतिका लािग

छछल्किएका आंसु

बर्षायाम पछिको पानीको एक थोपा

सुनौलो घाममा लोलाएको

कर्कलाको पातमा अडिएझैं

टिलपिल टिलपिल चम्किराखेको ।



तिमीले त मलाई

देखेर पनि याद गरिनौ

म त तिम्रो लागि भएं

एउटा औपन्यासिक पात्र जस्तै

कता बिसर्िएको सपनाझैं

पहाडबाट भत्केको पहरा जस्तै

उखेलिएको बिरुवाको जरा जस्तै

बेरस अनुत्साही र अल्छि ।



म बाटो थिएं

तिमी बटुवा थियौ

म घृणित र तिरस्कृत मन थिए

तिमी सपनादार हृदयको आकर्षण थियौ

मलाई कुल्चिएर तिमी हिडी रह्यौ

तिम्रो आगमनको स्वागत

बाटो छेउका फूलहरुले गरिराखेका थिए

तर धमिलै थिए

तिमीमा अनौठो कान्ति थियो ।



तिमी हिडिराख्यौ

मैले हेरी राखें

मिठो कल्पनामा सुरेली खेल्दै

छट्पटाइ छट्पटाइ

तिम्रो भित्री मनलाई हेरें

अन्जान थियाे पवित्र थियो

मेरो अमूर्त चित्र थियो

आफ्नो मनलाई मैले बुझिन

तिमीलाई सम्हालीदिने

आग्रह पनि गर्न सकिन

केवल एउटा गीत गुन्गुनाएं ।

२०५५-४-११