He had never cared to step on the step-on weighing scale that lay beneath the towel radiator in the bathroom until one day when he saw it out in the open with fresh marks of a pair of feet. The marks of those slender looking feet got him thinking who it was, for his house-mates definitely didn’t look like the ones with slender feet. They might have been his own feet, only that they were a couple of sizes too big. In any case, seeing the scale out in the open, he decided to step on, and to his horror found that he was 8.7 STONES!
He wasn’t horrified at his weight, he was horrified because the scale only showed the weight in STONES! Truth was he didn’t know how much 8.7 Stones was in Kilogram. He knew 1 pound was around half a kilo, but he had no idea how many pounds made a Stone! In any case, he got on with his routine, and as soon as he was back in his room, he Googled to find the conversion table. He was really horrified now that he knew his current weight in kilograms. 55 Kg! He has never been this heavy - he was proud of his 50±1 Kg body weight. Suddenly he found himself FOUR Kilos overweight.
He went back to the bathroom to confirm his weight (in stones) - took off his clothes to make sure he got the accurate measurement and stepped on the scale once more. Still 8.7 Stones. Tried again. Still 8.7 Stones. A third time. Still the same. It was clear that he had put on weight, probably for the first time in his life!
Continue reading ‘the ritual’
He only remembered her eyes - those large hazel-brown eyes. He remembered how she let him know all she wanted just from her looks through those eyes. Her happiness, sadness, anger, playfulness…all. She, on the other hand, only remembered his hair - those long, plaited dark hair, which when cut became nice curly hair, rolled into hundreds of identical rings. She remembered playing with his hair, while he gazed at her eyes. He was generally a quiet type but full of energy for childhood adventures, and a good sense of humour even at that age. Remembering each other always brought smiles to their faces, and a deep urge to meet each other again. And every time they came back home to meet their parents, they remembered each other and wished they would stumble upon each other, only if at the bus stop or the village temple. This urge became stronger when their parents told them how the other was doing, and how they were like a couple as kids and now probably wouldn’t recognise each other even if they met.
Continue reading ‘Her Eyes, His Hair’
Piece I: Recent Past
I became an omnivore this year
reminiscences
of the years gone by
being a shepherd
torturing
cows and goats
reminiscences
of the years gone by
being vegetarian
repenting cruelty
against cows and goats
reminiscences
of the years gone by
of torture
then remorse
now all forgotten
dark world
darker life
no sign of the Light
I became an omnivore
this year
m.p.
20 august 2006
york
Continue reading ‘Two pieces from the past…’
A short preamble before I start the actual material in this post. This is a slightly different post than what I usually put up here. A story that has been in my mind for the last two and a half years, which I somehow couldn’t forget, nor jot down properly and completely. I had bits and pieces of it scribbled here and there in my diary but that too on days when I had the same recurring dream (or nightmare if you will) linking to this story that I am going to tell. As far as I am concerned, it is completely fictional and created out of my thoughts mostly, and partly out of my dreams and/or nightmares. And I wish nobody has to come up to the situation portrayed in the story and not be able to do anything about it. Anyway, I must stop here before I start babbling away too much. The story begins/continues below. Enjoy!
Continue reading ‘A dream nightmare…’
किन हो आज अचानक मलाई नेपालीमा लेख्ने सूर चलेको छ। हुन पनि नेपालीमा केही पनि नलेखेको धेरै भइसक्यो। मैले र्यान्डम् जटिङ्स् लाई पुनर्जीवित पारेदेखि नेपालीमा एउटा पनि लेख लेखेको छैन खासमा! कहिलेकाँही नेपालीमै मात्र ब्लग राखौँ जस्तो पनि लाग्छ - तर त्यसो गर्दा अलिअलि भएका पाठकहरू पनि घट्ने पक्का छ। त्यसैले नेपालीमै मात्र लेख्ने सपना देख्न चाँहि छोडिसकेको छु मैले। हुन त सपना नै अंग्रेजीमा देख्न थालेपनि के नै गर्न सकिन्छ र? सकेसम्म धेरै भाषामा लेख्नु पर्छ जस्तो भने लाग्न थालेको छ आजकल चाँहि। एस बी श्रेष्ठको तीनभाषे ब्लग देखेर पनि होला (चौभाषे वा पंचभाषे पनि हुन बेरछैन वहाँको ब्लग, तर मैले भने तीन भाषाका लेखहरू मात्र देखेको छु मेरा अहिलेसम्मका भ्रमणहरूमा)। नेपाली लेख्ने कुरा गर्दा मलाई अहिले आफू परिवर्तन भएको देख्दा अचम्म लाग्छ। नेपालमा विद्यालय हाताभित्र, अनि विशेषगरी शिक्षकहरूसँग (नेपाली गुरूहरू बाहेक!) अंग्रेजीमामात्र वोल्नुपर्छ भन्ने नियम खुलेआम तोड्ने म अहिले अंग्रेजीमा मात्र लेख्ने, अंग्रेजीमै सोच्ने र सपना देख्ने हुनुपुगेको छु! साँच्चै नै म नेपालमा हुँदा निकै राष्ट्रवादी थिएँजस्तो लाग्छ आफूलाई अहिले। त्यसैले पनि होला मेरा विद्यालयका शिक्षकहरूले म विदेशीन लाग्दा भनेका थिए “यो केटो विदेशमा धेरै टिक्न सक्दैन, पढाई सक्काउनासाथ नेपाल फर्किहाल्छ”। साँचो हुन सक्छ वहाँहरूको भविष्यवाणी - मेलै अझै पढाई सकाएको छैन, अनि सकाउनलाई अर्को दुई-तीन वर्ष लाग्ने निश्चित छ। ममा भएको (पक्कै पनि छ आफूमा कतै भन्ने कल्पना गर्दैछु म) राष्ट्रवाद यी दुई-तीन वर्षमा पुनर्जीवित भइहाल्छ कि?
Continue reading ‘नेपालीमा लेख्ने सूर…’
copylefT 2008
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