Prelude to Perfection

A Letter To The Shadow

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Thu, 09 Jul 2015 02:41:00 +0000

I don’t miss your stalking, lurking and yet hovering around, watching and judging each of my activity. This is the first instance that the light has won a battle against you. I should be happy that the dark, shapeless blob that followed me everywhere has taken a leave for perhaps only a brief period. Isn't this what we all aspire for- the freedom from darkness, be it temporarily? And yet, for some unknown reason, your defeat has rendered me incapable of celebrating this victory that I have looked forward to all my life.

I have never had the courage to interact with you, even though I knew you were vigilantly following me. You were deeply connected to the deepest, darkest gorges that reside in my mind, that would violently rise without a warning. Yet, you watched, and immensely enjoyed the disasters that stemmed out of my mind slowly destroying my spirit. All the while, I pondered on the reason for your existence, you convinced me that there was no reason that was worth my thought. Was it ever true? Now that I understand the truth, unbeknownst to me, you ruled my life. I ran around clueless, trying to seek out the reason of madness that resided in me, with intention of uprooting it. Well, following your greater plan, I never even came close to the root. I immensely suffered in the process, but I never came close to what I thought would solve all my problems once I sought it out of the mythical caves.

I thank you for the lesson to pursue things that matter with determination and resilience. I finally have the victory that I desperately sought after believing that you were my source of misery. Nevertheless, I sit here, dejected at my incapability of finding the roots of my incapability. They have exponentially multiplied in my saga of uprooting them as I chased the red dot around while seeking for the the hand that held never even crossed my mind. Your presence perhaps served a purpose- probably to help me not lose it at one of these desperate chases while believing I was so close to whatever was chasing me out of my mind. You are finally gone, and I sit here attempting to capture whatever flows out of my mind- an unhealthy mix of confusion, desperation, and dejection.

The Disappointing Trend of Disappearance

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Thu, 20 Mar 2014 22:51:00 +0000

The month of March 2014 has been horrible globally, at least news wise. With Ukraine and Venezuela’s burning bloods on streets, Crimea’s overwhelming referendum to “join” Russia, and the stupefying disappearance of Malaysia airlines flight MH-370 with 239 precious souls in it, have left us all asking questions that have yet to be answered. Usually bad news makes the headlines on any and every newspaper globally, nevertheless, these series of major events happening have left the schedules of both the reporters and readers frantically hectic.

We dwell in the most advanced time any generation has seen or believed in. the progress on technological advancement is unparalleled, leading us to prove our supreme status on this planet. Nevertheless, events like Crimea “joining” and Venezuelan protests and riots are the realities that we cannot overlook. Whenever I delve into my thoughts triggered by these events, I realize that even in the digital web of transparency where we follow updates by seconds in any part of the globe, it is easy to simply disappear.

(Well wishes for the flight MH 370)

In fact, it doesn’t even take a major physical or mental breakdown, or even a natural catastrophe to disappear. Disappearances have been widespread--whether it is a gigantic Boeing, human bodies, or even a region of a country. The Boeing disappeared leaving the world baffled; human bodies disappear on the streets of Caracas, Venezuela without accountability, and the identity of the people living in Crimea as Ukrainians has been buried with its referendum. With such trend in drastic disappearances, what would it take for simple souls like you and me to disappear? Is it a question even worth asking?

As I keenly try to update myself with every news source available on the Internet to follow the progress on search for flight MH 370, I cross my fingers hoping for the outcome where everyone is found safe. I understand that it is naïve of me to seek updates with a juvenile conclusion in my head; nevertheless, aren’t we all hoping that these people be able to see their friends and families again? I cannot even begin to imagine the level of agony their families are going through. They are looking for answers, any definitive answers, and want to know what happened to their loved ones. At this point, hope is all we have, as we join our hands to pray and hope for the best scenario.

To follow live updates on flight MH-370:

bit.ly/1hJIiYu (Telegraph)

http://bit.ly/1fKQTaP (Twitter)

China Harayeko Manchhe

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Wed, 02 Oct 2013 20:39:00 +0000

It hit me today for the first time—the real test of detachment that I pride myself on for years. All these years, I thought I was able to compartmentalize my emotions about different people and issues. Yet, I woke up to agitated feeling in my stomach followed by a throbbing temple. I told myself that it must have been a nightmare that I was unaware of. Who knew that this would ever happen and affect me to this level?

I must have dozed off while reading the last few pages of Hari Bansha Acharya’s “China Harayeko Manchhe.” Hurt shoulders, cramped legs, and half paralyzed torso were the results of trying to finish it in one sitting. Well, I thought I would be able to just finish it and move on with my life. How could I ever have known that I would still be trying to find the way to my world from even after finishing everything he had offered me on his life? Not in a million years!

It’s funny how we think we are experts on someone’s life; so much so that we have answers to every problem they’re facing. They suffer because because they don’t listen to our advice, leading us to reluctantly say, “I told you so.” Likewise, hundreds of thousands of people cried along with Acharya in his immense loss; however, there were a few already offering their expertise on his life. He even faced criticism from them after his decision to find someone help him heal and move on leading him to explain and defend his decision. Personally, I cannot comment on how or why he made the decision he made, though I clearly understand and support his choice.

Image via Google Images

Childhood memories are the merry moments that we recall and recollect frequently. However, like the yin completing the yang (and vice-versa), memories of sorrow live share their address with memories of joy. I laughed at most of the precious memories documented in detail, while my favorite was the one where he tore a page of the book everyday he was supposed to read. On the other hand, the unimaginable pain of losing both parents at a young age while dealing with adults with impure intent is beyond me. Nonetheless, the events that led to the formation of one of the most revered entertainment duo were more like the stories that formed the best comedies I watched while growing up. After all, it all made sense about how they could write stories relatable to millions of people.

An actor portrays a character. If s/he does their job well, people see them as the character forever. Likewise, it was unbelievable for millions of people when they first heard about the untimely demise of Mrs. Meera Acharya. How could something like this happen to a comedian who has always successfully cheered millions of people? The character is supposed to make people laugh even in pain; it simply didn’t make sense that he cried in front of thousands of people. Nonetheless, the pain was real, the loss was real, and the tears were real. I could never imagine dealing with the loss of a loved one… even the thought of it terrifies me to the core.

Although I had wanted to read this book as soon as it was released, the daily spins and bets for life kept me from getting my hand on it sooner. Nonetheless, once I started, I didn’t realize that I was so absorbed in his stories that I forgot to complete my chores of survival. By the time I realized that I hadn’t eaten all day towards the end of the book, my neck and shoulders were sore and begging me to take a break. I had hoped for a good read, but was instead lost in the vortex of the author’s world. I rode along with the tales he offered; I sobbed in his pain and laughed at the funny stories he detailed. In fact, I felt like I was getting more information on life of someone I knew well, which is partly true as I grew up watching him on TV and theaters. Despite the excruciating emotional pain I imagine he must have gone through, I am glad he jotted his journey and helped his fans understand him better. There could not have been a better way of letting his fans peek into his personal life without violating it. As a well-wisher and a fan, I’d like to send best wishes on his marital life and hope that the good memories override the painful ones.

PS: We live in a world where a 17 year old thinks he's seen it all and his life deserves a documentary. Just to throw it out there, I believe he utilized this book to document his love and respect for his late wife while offering an explanation about his decision to move on with his life to his beloved fans. We should be glad he did. After all, he did offer us a way to know him better.

Sarah's Key

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Sat, 29 Dec 2012 17:00:00 +0000

As I type these words I still have a few pages remaining before I put “Sarah’s Key” by Tatiana De Rosnay back into the fiction category of the bookshelf. Will I ever be able explain the horrid journey I had in these 294 pages? I suspect that. I traveled through an emotional voyage where I felt like I was experiencing all these events first hand, instead of being conveyed by the author. I wish. I wish it were that easy to just shake it off and hold another bundle of pages to move on. Again, I wish I had let the author carry me through her journey.

De Rosnay begins with her disclaimer statement that the novel is a fiction with fictional characters, but the events were very real- also referred to as the dark period in French (especially Parisian) history. This period marks the dark time where neighbors watched their friendly Jewish neighbors being marched in their local buses and trains to their deaths in Auschwitz, Germany. July 1942 witnessed the Jewish citizens of Paris being emptied from their houses to fill the stadium of Vélodrome d'Hiver, and thus would be referred as vel d'hiv. The entire period of World War II is marked as the dark period of human race with more than six million Jews slaughtered during Hitler’s barbaric rule. Nonetheless, Hitler and Germany were not the only barbarians- more than nine thousand Jews from Paris and more than 45,000 in total from France were driven from Paris to Auschwitz to their death camps.

The story of the protagonist, Sarah Starzynski’s is an 11-year-old girl born in Paris to Jewish parents is told after sixty years. She is one of those thousands of innocent and unfortunate Jews that paid the price of their government’s greed with their lives. She faces it all- pushed and stuffed in the stadium with thousands of people with no food or water for days, separation from her parents, brutality of the soldiers and constant fear of death. However, the only thing that keeps her going is the thought of going back to he home and saving her brother, Michel- to fulfill her promise to him. Sarah is determined to get back to save her brother hiding in their secret place; unlocking the lock of the camouflaged cupboard on the top and uniting with Michel was all that kept her determined. Nonetheless, the will of escaping from the camp to get back to Paris to save her brother becomes dimmer with every passing hour. With Rachel’s help, another Jewish girl’s strong will to escape from the barbarian soldiers; Sarah finally manages to slip away from the barbed wires of the camps. At a tender age of 11, she faces the most dreaded and loathed fear of humankind- the fear of extermination.

Image via Google Images

Her journey is an emotional roller coaster; she sees the barbarians doing the deed during the war, and a loving family that fosters her despite her origin. She survives the horror physically, however, she is unable to recover from the dreadful pit mentally, which ultimately seizes her life. Sarah’s story is told via the author who has her personal struggles to face; nonetheless, her resolution of uncovering the truth about vel d'hiv via Sarah’s journey keeps her going.

I vividly remember the dreadful duration of civil war in Nepal during my childhood. I am not Sara, one of the thousands of Sarahs who faced the horrors of our civil war first hand, neither Rosnay who is obsessed with finding the truth and willing to sacrifice her personal life in order to provide the deserved tribute to those victims. The only thing I recall is being horrified about whether my daddy would make it home safe every evening, whether me, my younger brother or my friends could be the next victim of a grenade while playing on the streets, or whether I would be the next unlucky one to open a trash bag or carry a pressure cooker found on streets. I remember it got worse every year with increasing number of fatalities with no end in sight. I remember believing what the TV showed us or what the radio told. I recall worrying about whether peace would ever find its way back to the zone of peace. Traveling with Sarah has compelled me to ponder upon how lucky I was; I was not robbed of my childhood, my parents and loved ones. We were kids, and like Sarah’s parents, my parents did not want us to know and worry about the grave situation; in fact, they made sure that we got everything we deserved- hope, peace, and childhood memories with everything intact.

This was my experience of experiencing the trepidation of something that happened decades before I was born. I wonder if I’d have ever been able to picture the dreadful reality or even found out about this period in France had I never read this book. Everyone blames Hitler for being the ultimate evil, nonetheless, we forget to understand that he had help from people who shared similar evil intentions and helped him bring them to reality. Let’s hope that no child becomes the next Sarah to face deeds of such monsters in reality even though it is a wishful thought.

Reminiscence of Dreamtalks

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Mon, 09 Jul 2012 17:44:00 +0000

Boy, this sure does feel like ages. Thinking about something, and actually trying to write and make sense out of it. We’ll see how it goes.

Lana Del Ray’s Video Games playing on the background boosts my memory of the first time we talked. The window seat in the corner of the coffee shop I’m sitting by as of now, and the empty parking garage does feel like déjà vu. Will I ever be able to forget the times and talks we shared? Phew, such deep thoughts and topics- about life, ambition, goals and imaginations about where we would be in the next 10 years. We weren’t dating, but you made me feel comfortable enough to share my dreams with you, and I never even had a proper chance to thank you. You left, just like that- just like you’d say- vanish in the vanity of space.

I vividly remember the first time we talked- when I heard an unfamiliar voice asking me what my true dreams were excluding my career. I didn’t see that coming in the speech club meeting, and you managed to baffle me for a moment. Now that I think of it, there couldn’t have been a better time to ask me that question- my dream of helping unfortunate children gain education came out in the spur of the moment. I had forgotten that I had that dream embellished in my mind for a while, and then let it go for no reason. And even today, when I’m by myself recalling our talks, I am still unable to find the reason why my priorities changed.

You always found a way to motivate me, encourage me in my low times- telling me that I was the pearl yet to be discovered. I never quite understood what that meant, but probably you left it open for me to interpret it as my phrase of motivation. Well, it worked- most of the times. Drinking coffee continuously, scattering worksheets all over the table, and occupying the same window table every time made us look like hard working students, but who ever had an idea that we mostly talked about stuffs out of those heavy piles of papers? We talked mostly about what we planned to do after graduation- you shared that you plan to become an entrepreneur while I shared all my inconclusive and confused plans that took me nowhere out of school. I enjoyed those talks so much that I never realized that someday you would leave so suddenly- just like you said. I guess I preferred to ignore that part of our talks- who likes to listen and think about unpleasant ideas to one’s mind? I sure wasn’t an exception.

Now that you are nowhere to be found, I hope you are living the life free of invisible boundaries- no calls, texts, emails, or social networking stuffs. You used to say that have you had an option, you would rather walk to school, have face-to-face conversations with your loved ones, and spend time with them in person. I never really comprehended the idea of not appreciating what technology had to offer. We differed, argued, and presented our perceptions heavily supported by our own reasons on that one. Well, every person in unique in his/her own terms, and I appreciated that about you.

My coffee is getting cold, and so are my unwritten words; I feel like they are lost in translation in process of conversion as my brain’s message to the words that are meant to be dedicated to you. Oh well, right now, I’m angry with you for not even saying goodbye or letting me say goodbye and good luck to you. I could just write, “screw you” but then I’m sitting on the table that used to seat you on the other side, and amongst all those reminiscences where I’m trying to find a valid reason for not having the last talk, I find myself perplexed and appreciative of your nature at the same time. Nonetheless, I wanted to thank you for helping me find my confidence and walk with it, and that I did not have to hide myself for not being able to fit in the crowd. Now I realize that, people don’t have to be similar to become friends, nor do they have to link their similarities. One can just be different and yet bond with people- like you did.

Oh well, the talks about the talks can be infinite. But, I truly hope I get to meet you someday and tell you that I was mad at you and missed you when I wrote this. Or, may be that I wanted you to read this and understand how I felt if I was never able to tell you in person. Or maybe we could end up working on a dream project of helping people build better lives someday. Who knows? The possibilities are endless, but for now, I want you to know that I have become a better person after meeting you- someone more confident, and less scared to speak her mind. I hope the next time we meet, you find me as the person who could make you proud.

Nature Surfing!

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Thu, 24 May 2012 06:57:00 +0000

On the top of the world!

Thriving innocence.

Season of the berries.

Bloom!

Pleasure meeting u.

You describe me!!

The lady with the star.

The light of hope.

Tour time!

Application of Statistics in Baseball (Moneyball)

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Thu, 17 May 2012 21:39:00 +0000

Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game is a book authored by Michael Lewis about how Billy Beane the general manager of the baseball team Oakland Athletics applied statistics to improve the quality of his baseball team and revised his team of baseball players using drafted players. Although the panel of experts of Oakland Athletics intensively criticized Beane’s method, application of statistics to the performance of his team ultimately helped the team win 20 games in a row from August 13 to September 4, 2002. Although initially ignored as a medium to predict performances of players and wins, statistics today has become an important part of the baseball world.

Although I knew nothing about baseball in the beginning of the semester, watching a preview of the movie with Brad Pitt as Billy Beane sparked interest in me to learn more about the application of statistics in baseball. Even though I was aware that statistics could be applied in just about everything we deal in our daily lives, I was unaware that it could make such a difference even in the world of sports like baseball. As the career, success, and utility of a baseball player is measured in terms of how much money he makes, the rejected and rookie players are not considered valuable in big teams like Yankees, Boston Red Sox, etc. Therefore, the amount a player is paid becomes the most important determinant in whether the player will perform well or not. Oakland Athletics being a team with small budget of $40 million and players rejected by other teams, had basically nil to little chances of winning the series. Lewis’s question and answer about whether the continuous record-breaking wins was whether pure luck or truly the magic of application of statistics compelled me to think about just how much such an important measure is ignored in our everyday activities.

(Image via Google Images)

Billy Beane rejected the methods used by scouts and challenged their method by using statistics where he shortlists his players and values them at fair price in comparison to their baseball skills. He further selects his overvalued players and replaces them with undervalued players who actually had the skills he wanted in his players. Furthermore, he trades the average players from his team with those from other team who had higher chances of winning according to his calculations. His predictions and calculations work correctly, thus taking the Oakland Athletics to their first 20 wins in a row.

Although the scouts who followed their intuition about players in the name of expertise did not appreciate Beane’s method with application of Sabermetrics, application of statistics became a very important part of the baseball world shortly. As the methodology was revealed, every baseball team started hiring statisticians to revaluate their players and their performances, therefore, following the logical method of paying their players. Nonetheless, what surprised me was that the financially big teams like Yankees did not consider the use of statistics as a useful measure to improve the performance of their team. Wouldn’t a team that pays $125 millions to its players to assure its victory in every baseball series consider every single helpful method? They probably never considered that statistics could be that useful in sports.

Billy Beane had a really good idea of using statistics to measure wins and trade players accordingly; however, even after initiating such an advantageous method, the Oakland Athletics could not make it to the World Series. I did not understand why even after using the method that helped them win 20 games in a row the Oakland Athletics could not continue to their big win. Nonetheless, what I did not realize was that even though the team’s win was experimental and rather astounding to bigger teams, every team followed different measures of statistics to evaluate their players and their chances of winning. Therefore, when every baseball team found that statistics was useful in baseball via Moneyball, they imitated the method and quickly corrected the subjective method of valuing players.

As every team began using statistics, the advantage that Oakland Athletics had in the 2002 series did not last for long. Billy Beane was later offered the position of the general manager of Red Sox with a much higher paycheck, which he declined. However, the dramatic continuous win halted for the Oakland Athletics since 2002, as they are currently not doing well. In fact, the Oakland Athletics have only been averaging 76 wins per season in the last few seasons. What I do not understand is, why did Billy Beane reveal his entire method and application for everyone to imitate? Had he not pondered upon the exclusive possibility that whenever a certain method proves to be successful, every other team would imitate his method and take the path to have better players leaving Oakland Athletics at the same point where they started?

However, what I understand is that the title Moneyball is not used in vain; the world of baseball is more about the power, big paychecks, and having the strongest players with better chances of winning in one’s team. A team is simply not a good team because of intense training or skills its players have—the major factor is money, where players are paid in millions so that they are seen as assets that could lead the team to victory. It is called moneyball because the game is not fair, and it is not played fair- a potential winner keeps changing baseball teams according to whichever team can better pay him. This leaves the young talents, players that suffered injuries, and those who are rejected by the bigger teams as valueless for wins predicted; moreover, they are taken by teams like Oakland Athletics as they can only afford such players.

The whole chain of moneymakers for their owners dressed as baseball players are swapped from team to team, whoever pays them the highest- thus proving that wherever these guys go, the team is certain to win. Thus, the concept of baseball being moneyball and the game as unfair game is justified. Nevertheless, the importance of statistics in the game is valued and applied by teams in order to enhance their chances of winning the unfair game.

Winter Wagon?

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 01:52:00 +0000

Well, been a long long time since I updated my blog. I apologize to those who wait for new materials on my blog. I want to thank you for your support and encouragement that keeps me going, be it one post a month (wink!) Here are some snaps I took during my winter vacation in Florida. I promise I will update more snaps from my memory card soon. Enjoy these pictures till then!

[Yup, they claim to be the world's most famous beach! Well, they let us drive by the beach- so I wasn't complaining ;) ]

[People did anything and everything to make sure they captured their vacation moments. I enjoyed taking their pictures ;)]

[Well, all I can say is- he was too excited to be in the water! And, that's our brother :D ]

[I have done this once, and absolutely loved it. This time, I wished it was me in that picture. ]

Well, I hope you enjoyed going through the pictures. Some more coming up, I promise!

2012: From My Eye

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 17:47:00 +0000

Now that 2012 is here

Of human existence is that I fear

Will we live? How can I trust?

Console a moment, by next a volcano burst.

For few second the nature howls

Takes with no mercy, millions of souls

20-12 "the end", that all say

Alike Tsunami will hit the coast and bay

Ambiguous question that has all make us think

It might not be a lie, but do we really live or die?

Orbit will collapse, meteorite will hit

In black hole or galactic center is where the earth will fit

(Image via Google Images)

Of all our rudeness that nature tolerates

One gloomy morning, earthquake perforates

Screams of Katrina still unforgotten, Haiti wakes on cry

Even in the monsoon of east, the land stays dry

Is 2012 just a date?

Is it a fear or human fate?

Whatever is predicted or have been told

Hope, prayer and togetherness is to hold.

BY: Aava Sharma

A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 19:25:00 +0000

We all know that Jonathan Swift is one of the legendary authors who is capable of making his stories stick in his reader's head. Swift not only masters the skill of story-telling, but he also uses his literary power to evoke the political, social and economic situation of the society. “A Modest Proposal” is one of the most famous satires in the English literature that speaks the voice of the poor parents and street children of Ireland. He evokes the perception of the rich towards the poor and begging children of the street. Swift indirectly extends his satires towards colonization and demoralization of Irish by the English Men. Rich people always want the poor to remain under their shoes and never want the poor to rise above their poverty.

Swift uses his statistical information to support his modest proposal to improve the economy and social life style of the nation of Ireland. His proposal is to decrease the number of the poor population and use those poor and begging children of the street to build the economy of nation. He wants to implement his proposal of buying and selling of the meat of one year children to the market. His statistical support beyond the point that one baby could be sold for eight shillings in the market is astounding. To feed the same children for the whole year will cost two shillings where a mother could save six shillings from one child.

(Image via Google Images)

He enhances his proposal by indicating that the meat of one year child is nutritious, delicious, and tasty where the wealthy can refine their dish with new recipe. He includes that the flesh of young boy is very tasty than that of beef. It not only creates new recipe for the wealthy people’s dish, it will decrease the population of the poor and street beggars; mainly, it will enhance the economy of the community. The number of the thieves and drugs involvement will be decreased as well.

Swift imposes his idea not to support his proposal, but to provoke the irresponsibility of the nation towards its people to save the identity of various religious and economically impaired groups. He provokes the idea with disagreement towards the nation’s rules and policy to create several eyes to look after the single nation’s people living together. Although the whole proposal sounds disgusting and unusual, it protests the suppression and aristocracy of ruler of the nation. Swift clearly indicates that poor and economically impaired people are also human beings and they should not be treated different from wealthy people.

Click here to read "A Modest Proposal" by Jonathan Swift.

Death of Love (Sonnet 61, Michael Drayton)

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 03:23:00 +0000

Humans are emotional beings; they need their supporters during good times and bad times while they shed tears when they are not able to cope with the pain caused by a circumstance. Similarly, when it comes to love, there is no exception; they need their beloved to be with them in ups and downs of their lives. Similarly, Michael Drayton in his “Sonnet 61” unveils the emotions of a distraught lover whose dreams of being with his lover forever have shattered. He talks about his painful emotions after parting with his loved one, as the parting caused turbulence in his sentiments. Drayton successfully depicts the rambling sentiments of a lover who seeks to rationalize his decision of departing with the love of his life.

Here, the lover exhibits a tendency of justifying his decisions and acts, where he seeks approval of their decisions within himself by explaining that he didn’t have a choice. Subsequently, Drayton opens his sonnet with the lover’s first step towards justifying his departure with his lover. He has decided to end his relationship with his lover, and he is asking his lover to help him end it amiably with a kiss as they have no other choice when he says, “Since there’s no help…part” (Drayton, line1).

Subsequently, he tells himself that he made the right decision, since he was bounded by the relationship and he was the only one giving in the relationship. He feels that his relationship drained him, instead of making him happy; thus, getting rid of this binding thread was the right act as they both can pick their ways and seek their happiness somewhere else. He further elaborates that he is pleased with this parting, and he couldn’t have been happier since he is finally free when he quotes, “That thus so cleanly…free” (Drayton, line4).

However, no matter how much he tries, the lover knows that it is not possible to completely forget his beloved, whom he once loved with all his heart. Although the lover talks about their friendly break-up, he knows that his heart will not give up loving her. He talks about not acting surprised or guilty when they meet as strangers in future; however, his actual emotions for his lover is revealed in line 9 where he says, “Now, at the last gasp…breath.” He discloses that he still loves her, and this breakup would only kill their innocent love giving the readers a hint that their separation is not voluntary. He reminds himself of the passion they shared and the trust they held for each other, the eagerness and yearning for each other that held them together. He knows that they will no longer exist as he decides to end their zealous relationship when he quotes, “When, his pulse failing…lies” (Drayton, line10). He grieves for the death of his affection; he feels bad for his love— that they are giving up on the love they shared and nurtured together. Nonetheless, even though he faintly hopes that they could somehow get back together, he does not want to fool his heart by giving it false hope. His dying thread of hope for his love is elaborated in his quote “From death to life thou…recover” (Drayton, line14).

Drayton unequivocally exhibits the lover’s emotion in his tragic words where he knows is giving up on his love he hoped would remain with him till death. He tries to vindicate his decision at the beginning of the poem and slowly realizes that he still loves his beloved and would hope to get back together someday. Drayton brilliantly pictures emotions of a wrecked man and his progressing thoughts in an undesirable situation where the lover seeks to reason his decision and not feel guilty about it. Nonetheless, he has to face his inevitable sentiments wandering everywhere, while he is confused whether or not he should have broken up with his lover despite being in a relationship full of love and passion. He realizes that no matter how much attempts to tell himself that he did the right thing, he knows that it is not easy to let go of the love of his life.

Start...Scratch?

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 06:22:00 +0000

Hmm, what a day- WHAT A DAY! I yelled from the top of my lungs kicking my car door. Well, I did curse everyone a bit in my head for being opportunists, for using me for their advantage, and not letting me live my life. I wish I’d said “You all suck!” while leaving my office gate. Oops, ex-office! Can I call it an ex? For now, let me call whatever names I want to. Yep, I’m fuming inside out, carrying my family pictures, stationery, and a few report files I was support to present on. I was one of those who were let go from our jobs while I had my hopes up of getting promoted.

Just three weeks ago, my boss called me inside his office and asked me how I liked working for him. He stated that he was impressed with my work, and thus would like to see me growing in the company. I loved my work as a junior financial analyst; good salary, good benefits, compensation and health insurance- what more could I have asked for? Had been working there since last five years; well, sometimes, times were rough and me and my team had to work countless nights to keep our company going even in a rough economy. I had my job, that’s all I was thankful for- increasing stress, declining family time, and decreasing social life were all part of the job, and yet I didn't complain. I knew I was working my way to the top, and without hard-work, it would not be possible.

(Image via Google Images)

I had earned the recognition twice as the employee of the month; I even heard it from the CEO “Employees like you are the pillars of our company!” What an achievement! Well, I was doing my part, and they were doing theirs. I had to make sure the company improves on my part, while they had to assure that they make their part of shares continually. While we worked endlessly to keep our jobs, they were working continuously to make sure they keep theirs- thus, the merger with an emerging company with completely different fundamentals. None of the frontline employees knew-not even those who were told that they will be promoted soon.

Three weeks later, I was told to collect all my belongings and exit the company’s gate. They said they regretted the decision and that they were bounded by the rough times. I was thanked for my performance and contribution with best wishes. Ha! I wish I could have said, “Thank you for rewarding me with betrayal!” Well, I couldn’t- I was still trying to register the news in my head. I wished it was easier to shed tears, but no- I was a freaking man! I was not supposed to exhibit my disappointment or sorrow, and my job had taught me to master that pretense.

I come home distressed and disappointed- Why me? Why? What had I done wrong? I asked all the questions on my mind. No answer. Aggravation! My fury rises when I see my messy house, unwashed dishes in the sink, scattered papers, highlighters, and pencils I used to prepare for my presentation, laundry waiting to be done, and most of all, hunger- I hadn’t eaten anything since morning. I dropped the box from my hand, and slid down to sit on the floor- the mess added to my disappointment in my ruined life. 35, single, and jobless- messed up with nothing to look forward to. What a life! I realized that I lost my youth trying to reach the top—left the girl that loved me, moved to a big city to seek better opportunities, and hadn’t seen my family in years. I worked days and nights, even holidays to keep myself on the top of the charts. What for? Everything was ruined, everything!

I sat there hopelessly for hours staring at my parents’ picture. Suddenly, something struck me- a divine feeling that asked me to get my a** off the floor and start straightening the mess I had around me. I had everything scattered on the floor, with a broken frame of my certificate of appreciation from my work. I realized that nothing is over-it’s just a break, a bump that I am meant to pass. I had all my resources--it was all there surrounding me- pencil, highlighter, eraser and a paper. All these years I worked was not for them; it was for me, my growth and knowledge, and I was the one that learned the most from those experiences. All I had to do was put them to use with a new beginning. I rose up, cleared all the junks, organized my files and started staring at the clear paper. I had the best opportunity of my life- to begin something of my own.

Donate A Caption...

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 06:13:00 +0000

This picture was taken about a month ago. I watched the seagull fly towards its home after the day's work, and envied it throughout the evening. During the mesmerizing process, I lost my ability to justify an appropriate caption. Please donate your ideas to fill the caption below.

(?)

My Dream Story

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Sat, 19 Nov 2011 04:24:00 +0000

“Good night, Susan.” “Good night, Jailor,” I replied.

The cell door closes and I hear jailor steps diminishing sounding goodnight. I take a couple of steps into space. I glance up at the window and think to myself, “this isn’t a life, it’s just an existence.”

Being in prison makes me feel as though I’m being buried alive. I am a puppet with people pulling strings so that I eat, sleep and wake when they want me to.

I lie on my bed as night falls and think the same thoughts over and over again. My head is full of the people I love: my parents, my sister, my fiancée, and my friends.

Every day I live the same routine and nothing changes except the people.Pesters depart for other prison facilities, or get released where others arrive. It’s a continually revolving door. As it’s duration of mandatory routine, every empty vessel is to be fraught.

Nonetheless, prison has changed me. When I committed my crimes, I was a lost young boy, but now I am found; I know the Susan within myself. And, jail has turned from a negative experience into a positive one. I have taken control of myself, and changed my ways. I really want to escape this timid fate.

(Courtesy: Google Images)

When I was first incarcerated, I was timid and full of young, reckless blood. Days were same, nights were storm. Shoving against the crowd, really left me messed up. I really wanted to have some faith. Sooner, the better.

Walking around the prison yard, I would notice my fellow prisoners reading books and writing letters to friends and family, and it upset me because I couldn’t do the same.

I chided the day when I was forced to take a step towards knowledge. But then,I decided not to waste my time inside and instead, take advantage of all the resources available in the jail. I started to learn and they were baby steps; but, I was determined to fulfill my goal. One day, I would read and write properly, and help other illiterates like me to learn.

Today, five years later, after a lot of persistence, scrabbles and hard work, I have achieved my goal. I’ve also just completed a course as a reading mentor and am helping others who were just like me to read and write. They are so grateful for my help, and I’m so grateful to be able to give something back.

Someone once told me that “knowledge is power and is no weight to carry around” and I now know that to be true.

My journey of 1000 miles started with one step. I am now enjoying every moment of my success. Learning to read and write at a higher level has given me the inner strength to present myself in a more positive manner. I am also able to have better conversations with my family and friends.

And the day I’ve dreamed about has come true: I now enjoy my cup of coffee with a book in my other hand. Learning to read and write has changed my life and this article is my first piece of “proper” writing, but it won’t be my last.

Writing has helped me express my feelings and I’m even writing poetry. This is “White as Snow:”

So many haters in one place

Trading war stories and pleading their case,

I sit here and try to be kind

People think I am out of my mind,

What I’m doing is changing my ways

Letting my thoughts be as white as snow,

It’s time from my life I can never get back

By the time I get out, people will think I’ve cracked

I know my “sorry” can never fix all the pain

But, I shall not cease to pray for the sunshine after rain,

Thinking for the prosperity of people

Like to shine as white as snow.

By:Susan Timalsina

Know About Cancer

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 18:36:00 +0000

Our body is formed with millions of cells, and each cells function is our bodily function. Chunk of cells form tissues, and groups of tissues form organs of the body. Each cell of the body means to grow, work, repress and die; this process continues throughout life to keep the human body functioning, safe, and healthy. However, the fact that cells can function as designed all the time is questionable. It might malfunction at times, resulting in abnormal growth. As several abnormal cells group for long time, it follows the same pattern of cell growth, this time creating a bulk of non-functioning or abnormal cells known as tumor.

A type of tumor-Benign tumor is not life threatening, as it stays at one place of the body and not spread around; however, it is not sure if it remains at the same part if its origination. It might invade other tissues of the body and spread to the other part, which results in another form of tumor known as malignant tumor. Malignant tumor, once starts dispersing, is known as cancer; this transfer of the tumor cells to the other part of the body is called metastases. The initial symptom of the malignant tumor is the swelling of the nearby lymph node. Research has not yet found out whether it remains at the same place, or if it can invade any other part of the body. When the cancer starts to transfer from one part to another, it is very tough to get rid of it completely till the date, with the present medication procedures.

(Courtesy: http://www.learn-free-medical-transcription.blogspot.com)

There are hundreds and thousands of definitions of cancer that we could come across. Evidences lack to accurately spot about where and how the fatal disease started. Many researchers claim their own theories about its origination and gradual impact to the human body. Nonetheless, not a single explanation could break the ice, or put the pieces of the puzzle together to fit any of the claims. Many vast and complicated research and trials have been conducted since decades; however, none of them proved to be effective to cure the disease as well as provide enough care to the patients. Several procedure and methods have been proposed and practiced that can elongate the expectancy of life for several years without removal of disease. From high doses medication to very powerful radiation therapies are being used just to avoid the cancer cell to spread around the body. These therapies seem to be working to avoid the spread, but severe impact left by such aggressive radiation and drug doses have been sidelined. The following treatment methods are currently in use, as approved by FDA (Food and Drug Administration):

· Surgery
· Chemotherapy
· Radiation Therapy
· Anti neo-peptone (Approved by FDA, but not popular; claims to have drastically lesser side-effects than other treatments)
· Targeted Therapy
· Immunotherapy
· Hyperthermia
· Bone marrow and Peripheral Blood Stem Cell Transplant
· Photodynamic Therapy
· Laser in Cancer Treatment
· Blood Product Donation and Transfusion
· Hormone Placement Therapy

These are the most common treatment procedures currently in use for cancer treatment. Each treatment depends on the nature of the tumor, and the infection caused to the body. These medications are created under high dosed drugs and highly sensitive radiations such as beta radiation which are extremely dangerous to the human body. Each therapy has at least two or more extremely painful side effects. Most common side effects are loss of hair, infertility, loss of hearing, reduced responsiveness, nausea and vomiting, and several other sensitive effects. These medications should be followed for several months to years in routinely. After starting these therapies, a cancer patient may or may not be able to resume his/her normal life, as these therapies only aim to elongate the survival days. We still lack the complete cure to cancer.

By: Bisho Banjara

Not This Time

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 05:59:00 +0000

I asked you

To hold on to the thread

Of hope,

Though I knew darkness hovered everywhere.

Like every other time, I would have

Crossed my fingers and closed my eyes,

Hoping this storm would go away;

But for a strange reason, I did not.

Not this time.

I would have waited, certainly

On the river bank and on the pavement;

By the side of the shore or into the deep woods,

Praying to the highest powers to let me,

Be with you and endure the pain of your disloyalty;

Unquestionably, I would have forgiven you

For hurting my trust and innocence; I would

Rather have lived believing the sweet lie. But, somehow

Tolerance parted its way from my soul and

Forgiving divinity condensed;

I would have believed you all my life,

Just, not this time.

Sure, I am bewildered and perplexed

About how the love of my life could just let go,

Of the love I relied on, the bond that we built

And detailed meticulously;

The beat of the heart I believed was for me,

Never knew me at all.

Oh, well! the castle of my dreams just collapsed,

And yet I have not panicked

The feeling of betrayal is gushing throughout my veins,

Yet I have not fallen down;

A corner of my heart is still yelling at me,

Asking me to give up this weak feeling of not accepting you

And standing still- of collecting the shattered pieces of hopes,

And building a new vision for life- something worthwhile.

Any other time, I would have listened to thee-

Oh my sentimental heart!

Excuse me, just not this time.

After Reading Araby

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 01:00:00 +0000

As grown-ups, we all have something that we miss from our childhood- whether it is an event, token, or a friend. Nonetheless, every adult realizes that the world of adults is entirely different from the fantasies about adulthood from the perception of a child. The understanding about the real world does not come easy-there is always an incident that acts as an epiphany in people’s lives during the process of growing up. Although the loss of innocence triggered by that event is tough to accept at the beginning, it acts as the first step towards adulthood. Similarly, James Joyce’s short story “Araby” is about the epiphany of a young boy who discovers that the world he imagines to be so perfect along with his beloved, is not perfect after all.

(Image Courtesy: Martin's Doodles)

The narrator is a young boy who lives in quiet North Richmond Street with his uncle and aunt. He describes the mundane lives of his surrounding without much interest; however, his playtimes are the only events that keep him busy in his neighborhood. He explains his playtimes during the harsh winter when he says, “The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed.” As much as he likes his playtimes, another fact that makes his life interesting is his infatuation with Magan’s sister. He is so in love with her that he says, “Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostile to romance.”

Nonetheless, he is not able to express his eternal love for her whenever he meets her; in fact, he is not able to reply her properly when she finally talks to him about Araby. Upon hearing her interest in the bazaar, he discovers that his only way to impress his love is by making his voyage to Araby. Therefore, his heroic trip to Araby becomes very important for him in order to bring a gift for his beloved and win over her heart.

James Joyce meticulously accounts for the entrance of adulthood in the narrator’s life through his trip to Araby. Joyce introduces the beginning of his adulthood as his uncle’s late arrival, as his first obstacle on the day of his trip. When he finally reaches Araby, he finds it as amusing as he had imagined from the outside; nonetheless, the unwelcoming tone of the lady when she asks him if he intended to buy anything destroys the colorful world of Araby in his mind. He realizes that he is no longer the hero of his journey, and Araby is not the destination that led him to his lover’s heart. His expresses his understanding about his insignificance in the bazaar when he says, “I lingered before her stall, though I knew my stay was useless.”

I liked how Joyce presented the journey of a boy towards adulthood with a touch of reality. The narrator’s perfect image of his voyage to Araby and his beloved is destroyed when he realizes that life is not as smooth as his fantasies. I was intrigued by Joyce’s writing style when he introduced the boy’s first reaction to his epiphany as anguish; he understands that his beloved lady as well as his craze for her is insignificant. The narrator’s realization is further elaborated in the quote, “Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity….and anger.”

If I were the protagonist of the story, I would elaborate more about my thoughts and feelings towards the

world I thought I knew and the one I came across at the end. I would share my story including my

expectations from people in my life, while I explored life on my own. On the other hand, to add a conflict, I

would have explained about my dreams of my life and what profession I would like myself to be engaged in

while the reality at the end of story would make me realize about the harsh reality of life.

After All, Your Parents are...

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 17:59:00 +0000

The first time we met, he asked me what I did. What answer would I have given? I was barely 18- just finished high school, what more would you expect? I was a teenager in the process of adding wings to my future; well, at least I knew I had to fly away from my nest in order to get to know the real world. He said he realized that, and mocked me for my decision- why do you think the world is so far from your house? Just step outside your home, the world itself surrounds you- you just have to realize that every time you step into a new place, you encounter a different world. I simply wanted to say that I did not need your opinion about my decision and it depended on what you consider the world to be, but I didn’t- for the first time, I decided not to retaliate against someone judging me. I wish I hadn’t, after all it was my choice and I did not need someone out of my league criticizing me for what I wanted to do.

The next time we met, he wanted to know more about me- Where was I from? What school did I go to? What was my field of study? What did I want out of my life? Who were my parents and what did they do? I answered every question except what my parents did- why did he need to know about my parents? It’s not like we were meeting to decide whether or not we wanted to be in an arranged marriage, nor would the answer yield any interest landing on his side. I reluctantly answered that my parents were the simplest beings in Nepal; just like the average parents- my dad works for salary and my mom takes care of the house and their children. Right after my response, another query with a smirk was thrown at me (one more time)- So…you mean your mother does nothing and just stays at home and your father works a simple job for salary? But…you blog which majority of girls your age are not aware of (this was in 2007) and you know what you want for your future- in fact, you are a building a path to land there. I thought your parents were some PhD holders, who taught you all that you knew!

All of a sudden, my heart started beating faster and my veins rushed in carrying a stream of anger with blood- it was an insult to my parent’s upbringing of their daughter in a form of compliment. In my head, I had the answer ready to flow out- so, you mean that parents like mine should not have their children educated and updated with the latest happenings? They should have been highly educated just to make sure that their daughter knows what she wants out of her life? They ought to have a degree to let their daughter have the freedom of posting her perceptions on a blog? You call yourself educated; realize how constricted your mind is! Even today, I wish I had said that. I’d would have said it again (probably modestly) have I had a chance. Yes, even today!

I never brought up that incident during our further talks, but it always haunted my mind. Why are we so constricted that we bind ourselves within the box that checks what is wrong and right in our mind? Why is the reformist ray of light buried in darkness of the alley of our judgments? Forgive me if I insulted anybody, it’s just a perception after all- I could not help but write about it.

When I recall that incident, I still think why do we have such a premature conception about the status of parents who raise their children to be accomplished? A woman who sells roasted maize on street dreams of her son being a professional someday, or man who carries heavy load of bricks on his head for construction wishes to educate his children. If we find the parents wishing their children to hold a remarkable position, we look at them in disbelief as we foresee their future on streets as well. What is wrong with their dreams? Why is it so difficult for us to accept the fact that they work hard in order to see their dreams come true? Why don’t we think that their children realize how hard their parents have worked to send them to school and to be able to stand with their heads held high in the society? Take a look at our President Ram Varan Yadav, he himself tells his story that he used to read and write riding on the back of a buffalo while taking the cattle to graze on field. Is it still difficult to accept that he is the president of the youngest republic of the world, or that his parents were not PhD/degree holders? Additionally, follow the example of Abraham Lincoln (his parents were not degree holders) worked his way up to become the first President to declare liberation of slaves from their masters. Well, did his parents being farmers stop his Presidency? In fact, he is revered as a significant reformist, and one of the greatest role-models for the world.

We need to rebuild our perceptions, if it still is tough to tackle with this fact. Let’s be creative, not derisive of those who think big and dream big.

What? A Presentation?

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 01:35:00 +0000

Mrs. Dharmashila Chapagain represented Nepal in the 2011 United Nations High Level Meeting on AIDS- New York Convention held in June 8-10. She is the current Minister for Health and Population of Nepal, and she is presenting her speech on the facts of the fatal disease. She looks really serious during her speech- not for the fact that she is serious about the disease, but for the fact that she is struggling to pronounce those heavy words she might have never came across in her life. Let's watch the video and her "serious" effort to impress/address "Mr. President."

(Video via UN multimedia webcast)

Please share about how you felt about her presentation as the representative from Nepal.

Ancient world Re Modern Life

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Fri, 27 May 2011 00:42:00 +0000

The sophomore literature course with Professor Noyes in spring 2011 has been one of the remarkable journeys of my life. Before the first day of class, I was anxious about the piles of papers I would have to submit during the course progress. Nonetheless, as we went through the ancient texts and related those texts to our personal lives, I realized that this class was actually helping me explore myself. Sitting through those presentations and the understanding the relations created by our peers in the class, and how they were able to actually visualize those texts with modern day society gave me an insight about how my classmates were able to link their lives with the ancient texts and personalities. When I had to present with my group on Metamorphoses, the part I was assigned (Tiresias and Juno) helped me realize that our negative qualities like jealousy, anger, envy, etc. is not unique or necessarily evil for those qualities were actually portrayed as the other side of ancient gods’ behavior. Before my presentation, I tried to disown my negative qualities and redundantly resisted between the desire of being a person with all good qualities and avoiding the inevitable dark side. Nonetheless, the understanding that I am not the only person with negative human qualities, and I will not be scorned for who I am made me realize that I should just let it flow and move on with my life.

Going through the comments on my response papers has given me an insight about myself- I write about life and events of life that I have faced in the past, and what I am going through in present. I have actually used those papers to pour myself and my perception regarding life as a whole, and how I thought my life was different from others; I wrote about my contemplations regarding the nostalgic moments spent with my family whom I thought were the only people who I could get along with. I actually saw my characteristics matching with characters of the ancient world; Juno’s envy, Tiresias’s anger, Zeus’s attempts to be just, Apollo’s blind love for his supporters, and Achilles’s need of his mother’s love and support walked me through my characteristics and made me understand that I am not an isolated soul with inadaptable features. I realized that if I had to just explain those texts without being able to relate them to myself, I would have not have had the opportunity of understanding myself better. From start to finish, I have progressed to express myself in a better way and at the end of those responses; I was able to write explicitly about experiences of my personal life as well as my close relatives.

(I knew I could have fallen down, but I wanted to taste the freedom of flying)

I have certain dreams and a visionary career path for myself. I let school top the priority of my life and not desire for all the fun that people say college students should have during their college years. Fine, if I can work hard and build a path to success, I will give up today’s fun for my career’s success- it is okay even if I fail and not be able to pursue my career. Nonetheless, I do not intend to let someone tell me what to do and what not to. I chose a path for myself, and I carry the responsibility to accept the accountability of its consequences. Nope, not even they try to convince me with entire resources gathered from the globe- this is my life, and I have only one opportunity to live it the way I want to. Call it obstinate, rigid or hard headed, your choice; but I see it as a determination. Regarding my determination, I am an Achilles; Achilles knew that his death was fated soon after Hektor’s death, yet he killed Hektor anyway. Likewise, if someone tells me I’m not fated to succeed in my career path I’ve set for myself, I will still pursue my career path even if it means that I will fail in future- I know I will gain the lesson to rise again. Failing does not mean that a person is incapable; it just means that we have to stand stronger the next time—in fact, failure teaches you where not to slip along the path. Instead of fearing failure, rise again and start over- you will overcome the fear of failing and learn not to give up. If I compare myself to an ancient figure regarding determination, I am an Achilles.

Man Against Mount Everest 1952 [Documentary]

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 17 May 2011 03:56:00 +0000

Here is the footage of Swiss climbers trying to reach the summit of Mt. Everest during 1952. Mt. Everest has been a dream for all the climbers. In this video you can see a rare view of Kathmandu and life during 50's.

Watch : Man Against Mount Everest 1952

जिन्दगीको अनेक रूप

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Fri, 29 Apr 2011 22:24:00 +0000

''नानी ए नानी। बुवालाई अफिस जान ढिलो भाईसक्यो छिटो गर'' आमाले भनेपछि हतार -हतार ड्रेस लगाएर बुवासंग स्कुल जान भनि कोठा बाट निस्की ११ बर्षे छोरी। आफ्नो भाई अघिनै बुवा सँग घर बाहिर निक्लिसकेको थियो उस्को।''बाइ मम्मी '' हात हल्लाउदै बुवा सँग मक्ख पर्दै दुई सन्तति स्कुल तिर भोलिको उज्जल भबिष्यको लागि तयार हुन जादैछन्।''सुन्नुस्. त, भरे आउँदा चोकमा ओर्लेर सब्जी लिएर आउनुस् है,म जादिन थुप्रो लुगा धुनु छ आज।''हरेक गृहणिकोo आफ्नो श्रीमान हिडिसकेपछिको सानो सन्देश हो यो।''ल ल''भन्दै जागिर धाउन हिडें बुवा चाहिँ। मध्यम स्तर परिवारको दिन्चर्या यसरीनै सुरु हुन्छ हरेक घरमा।

बाटोमा बुवाको हात समातेर चल्दै उफ्फ्रदै ती दुई सन्तति स्कुल पुग्छन्। गेट्मा बुवाले दुबैलाइ छोडेर ''राम्रो सँग पढ्नु है ? अनी आज बेलुका तिमीहरुलाई एउटा सर्प्राइस छ .. ज्ञानी भएर पद्नु।'' यति भन्ने बित्तिकै दुबैको मनमा एक खुशी र उत्सुख्तापन झझल्किन्छ। दुबैले आफ्नो बुवालाई माया गरेर आफ्नो क्लास तिर बढ्छन्, अनी बुवा चै सदाझै परीश्रम् गर्न आफ्नो अफिस तिर बढ्नु हुन्छ।

दिउसो को १२ बज्यो र भाईसँग खाजा खाने इच्छा आफ्नो भाईलाई खोज्न स्कुलको चौरितिर जादा, अलि पर उब्भिएको छ एउटा उसको राम्रो मान्छे। जसलाई उस्ले सधैं मुस्कान दिएर सम्बोदन गरेकी हुन्छे। हो त्यो रमेश नै हो। रमेश त्यहि स्कुलमा पढ्छ ऊ भन्दा एक कक्षामाथि। आकर्षणका करणले दुबै मुसुक्क हासी आँखा भुइ तिर झुकाउदछन्। लाजले ऊ रातो निलो हुन्छे अनी फेरी भाईलाई खोज्न हिड्छे। ३ बज्यो स्कूल छुट्टी,आज कुनै बदमासी गरेका छैनन दुबैले, किन कि आज बुवाले एउटा सर्प्राइस दिने रे।यहि कुरा गर्दै गेटसम्म नपुग्दै दुबैको आँखा ठुला ठुला हुन पुग्छन्। हासो अनी खुशीको सिमा नै हुँदैन। उनी हरुको प्यारो काका दिनेश् जो केइ बर्ष देखी बिदेशिएका थिए, आज अचानक उनैलाई देख्दा दुबै साह्रै रमाउछन्। शायद बुवाको सर्प्राइस त्यहि पो हो कि?

(Image via Google Images)

समय बितेर सुर्यले पनि बिदा माग्ने बेला भैसक्यो। तर खै बुवाको अत्तोपत्तो छैन । आमाको मनमा हुरी बतास चल्छ । ''बा सब्जी लिन पो ढिला गर्नु भयो कि ?गाडी पो भेटिएन कि?'' यस्ता अनेक थरिको प्रश्न हरु आमाको मनमा नाचिरहेका थिए । ''दाई आउने बेला भएन भाउजु''? देवरले कोठा बाट नै सोधे बाहिर बाटो हेरेर बसेकी भाउजुलाई। ''हेर्नु न खै आज किन ढिला गर्नु भयो। अब त आउनु पर्ने हो ?'', ''अब काठमाडौंको ट्राफिक त्यहि हो नि भाउजु ; दाइ आउँदै हुनु हुन्छ होला। '' भन्दै आतिएकी भाउजुलाई सम्झाउछ दिनेश्। हुन त उसलाई पनि दाइ लाई देख्न नपाएर रिङ्गटा लगिसकेको थियो। तर अब ति कलिला बच्चाहरुको अघि देखाउनु हुँदैन थियो। त्यहि भन्दै ति दुई बालाखा सँग फेरी उस्ले ल्याएको videogame सँग खेल्न थाल्छ। हेर्दा हेर्दै रातिको ९ बज्यो। अब त प्रतिक्षाको सिमा नै रहेन आमाको। ''ये बाबु हजुरको दाइ लाई फोन गर्नु न खै त आउनु भएन ।'' आतिइन आमा ,अनी त्यहि कारणले रोइन पनि। ''ह्या भाउजु किन आतिनु भएको केहि कामले गर्दा रोकिनु भयो होला। फोन को नेटवर्क त्यहि हो के टिप्नु र? पख्नु म फोन गरिहाल्छु नि।" भन्दै दिनेश गरुंगो मुटु लिएर दाइको नम्बर डाएल गर्न थालयो। फोनमा एक महिला बोल्छे। ''तपाइले डाएल् गर्नु भएको नम्बरमा अहिले सम्पर्क हुन सकेन केइ समयमा पुन प्रयास गर्नु होला''। दिनेश्लाई त्यो मोबाईल फाल्दिनु जस्तै लाग्यो अब । बल्ल बल्ल एउटा अर्कै बरिष्ठले उठाउनु भयो । ''हेल्लो ,दाइ म दिनेश ''। दिनेश अत्तिएर बोल्छ ।

'''हजुर को हो ? यो फोन मालिक हजुर को पर्नु भयो ?'' अचम्मको प्रश्न आयो अर्को तर्फ बाट । दिनेश्को खुट्टाले ठाउँ छोड्यो ।''म वहाँको भाई तपाईं को बोल्नु भएको । दाइ कहाँ हुनुहुन्छ ?'' दिनेश्ले अलि पर आएर सोध्यो । जवाफ आयो । हेर्नुस् तपाईंको दाइलाई मैले NewRoad मा भेटेको वहाँको एक्सिडेन्ट भएर अहिले hospital मा हुनुहुन्छ । वहाँको फोनको चार्ज छैन तेसैले मैले मेरोमा यो सिम राखे वहाँको घर बाट फोन आउछ कि भनेर। तपाइ छिट्टै BIR HOSPITAL मा आउनु त!'' यति सुनेपछी दिनेश कामेर भुइमै थचक्क बस्यो। आफूलाई सम्हाल्न कोसिस् गर्‍यो अनी केहि छिनमा भाउजुलाई सुटुक्क बोलयो। अनि सबै कुरा सम्झाएर बिस्तारी भन्यो। आमाको होस उड्यो, "लौन के भयो यस्तो " भनेर डाको छोड्न थलिन्। अनि रुदै hospital जाने तयारी गरिन्।आफ्नो baneshworma बस्ने बहिनिलाई फोन गरेर बोलाइन अनी ती बच्चालाई हेरेर बस्न भनिन्, अनी सबै ब्रितान्त सुनाइन्। देवर भाउजु ट्याक्सीमा चढेर छिटो भन्दा छिटो hospital पुगे।

बेहोस् अवस्थामा थिए बुवा। भगवान सरि त्यो अन्जान मान्छेलाई मुरी मुरी धन्यवाद दिएर आफ्नु श्रीमानको खुट्टा छेउमा सुक सुक गर्दै बसिन्। देवर डाक्टर सँग सर सल्लाह गर्न र दाइको अवस्था बुझ्न गए। ''हेर्नुस् वहाँको अवस्था ज्यादै कम्जोर छ तेसैले तपाईं हरुले वहाँ ICU मा भर्ना गर्नु पर्छ'' भने सेतो कोट ढल्काएका त्यस hospital का एक डाक्टरले। बुवालाई छिटो भन्दा छिटो ICU मा भर्ना गरे देवर ले।

करिब् ४ दिन सम्म बच्चाहरु न स्कुल जान मान्थे न केहि खान । ती सानीमालाई हैरान भएको थियो बच्चालाई कसरी सम्झाउने भनेर । दुबै बच्चा भन्छन बुवाको सर्प्राइस हेर्ने अनी मात्र खाने । बिचरा के थाहा उनीहरुलाई बुवा कुन हालमा छन ।आज ५ चौ दिन । बिहानै BIR HOSPITAL मा एक तिखो आवज सुनियो । शायद कोइ महिलाको रोएको आवज ।यो आवाज उनै आमाको थियो । बुवाले ICU मै आफ्नु प्राण त्यागे। बिचारी ती आमा बिहान् सब्जी लिएर आउनु भनेको दिन घरको कामको धपेडिले उनले राम्रोसँग बुवालाई हेरेकी पनि थिइनन । ढोकामा चुरा फुटाउदै छाती पिट्दै अनेक गुनासो गरिन। ३ बर्ष पछि पाएको छुट्टी दाइ भाउजु सँग बिताउने दिनेश्को रहर भाउजुको आंशुमा बगेर गयो। दिनेश पनि अर्को तिर फर्केर रुन थालयो। बुवा आमा त सानै छदा गए, अब दाइले नि छोड्दा उस्ले आफुलाई टुहुरो महसुस गर्‍यो। कठै ती बालाखा! अब के जवाफ दियोस् दिनेशले उनीहरुलाई? जसोतसो गरी भाउजुकी बहिनिलाई खबर गर्‍यो। अब त उता पनि डाको सुरु भयो।

बुवाको सर्प्राइस हेर्न खोजेका ती कलीला आँखामा न आंशु थिए न गम्भीरता। मात्र बुवालाई सेतो कपडाले बेरेको एक झल्को हेरे र सानीमाले भित्र लगेर लुकाइन ती टुहुराहरुलाई । बुवाको अन्तिम संस्कार गरियो, अब खरानीबाहेक केहि रहेन बुवाको निशानी। देवर भाउजु घरमा किरिया गर्न आए । ढोकामा नपुग्दै नानीले सोधि'' uncle बुवाको सर्प्राइस येहि मामुले लगाको सेतो सारी हो ?'' शब्द बिहिन भएर हेरेको हेरेकै भयो दिनेश।

By: Nisha Shahi

My Golden Diary

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 02:58:00 +0000

March 15, 2000:

Thank you so much mommy, for I have this diary now. As soon as I saw this diary in the stationary shop, I wanted this for myself. It was expensive and I’m just in class 5- so I was afraid that mom won’t let me buy it. After asking her for several times, she finally bought it for me as my birthday gift in advance. I love my diary and it is golden in color. Once when my grandmother told me the story of the girl with golden hair, I asked her if I had similar hair too. She replied no, and told me that I had a golden smile; at the moment, I thought it was funny even though I did not understand what she meant. But now, I can say that I really have something golden, and it is my diary.

I’m going to keep it with me all the time, I will take it to school in my school bag and not write in front of anybody else- it is my secret and I don’t want to share it with anyone. Nobody checks my schoolbag, so it will be safe; I’m not going to show this to my friends Salina, Arina, or even Rashmi. I will not give any Hajmola to Rashmi and ask her to talk to me again because I have my friend now. I hope Susan (my brother) will not try to find it in my room. Hi diary, thank you for being my friend, and welcome to my world!

A Room with Mirrors

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 06:11:00 +0000

Mirror, mirror all around
I cry, I laugh and let my emotions out,
Nobody listens; yet, everything is reflected back to me
I converse with my heart and
The mirrors deceive me;
There is no “I” imitating “me”
Neither you possess magical powers
Nor the alluring beauty,
Then why, oh why in the earth
Have you chosen me to mirror every deed
Of mine to judge me and let me judge myself?

(Image via Google Images)

Had I known the future, would I ever
Bring you home to invite self-decimation?
Ignorance would have been bliss,
I would not have someone vigilant like a watchdog;
I would live with every human error and
Yet be able to justify myself!
See, what have you done? Every single act of mine
Is a way of you, none of my emotions flow from heart,
Am I a puppet or a zombie?
Now that you judge me-- again.

Time shall move on with lives attached
To its one way track, why can’t you be so?
You shall see everything passing just by, and yet
Show no empathy- what shall I call you?
A friend in loneliness or the creator of adversity?
For I have lost myself to prove to you,
And yet you never utter a word;
You sucked my life out of me,
Shall I accuse you for that?
You’d not be concerned to heal yourself,
Even if I made you fall into pieces;
I hold the strength to shatter you-
And yet, you have managed to break me into fragments
What shall I call you? Oh mirror!

The Pied Piper of Hamelin (Not Exactly)

noreply@blogger.com (Anjali...) — Sat, 05 Mar 2011 03:19:00 +0000

A few weeks ago I was assigned to complete a model of modified Children's story where I was assigned to creatively alter the tale of "The Pied Piper of of Hamelin." Remember, we read it in English course in middle school? Well, I have tried to modify the direction of the original story. Let me know what direction you think this piece has adapted. Oh yeah, you can tell this story to your children later ! :P

Once upon a time, there was a town called Hamelin in England- it was a small town with honest and hardworking farmers. People of Hamelin loved each other and helped their neighbors to the utmost point. The town also had a king elected by the people to safeguard the community and solve any problem that arose. The king and his court ministers too, were loyal and concerned about the peace and safety of their town. The children played in the park of the palace opened for public use and took part in the games; even the prince enthusiastically shared his toys with the children of commoners and invited them to the palace tours. Overall, Hamelin was the happiest town in the entire neighborhood with minimal disturbances.

However, as the season for harvesting crops arrived, rats driven away from other towns landed in Hamelin; the rats took all over the little town, including the enamored garden of the palace. The whole town was full of rats and their offspring, and gradually their population size increased to the extent that even the cats were afraid to move around Hamelin. The clothes in the closets were scattered into pieces, the houses had infinite holes in them, the park looked black due to overpopulation of the rats, and the farmers soon ran out of grains to feed their family. Furthermore, children were too scared to play outside, and the farmers had no choice rather than to seek for other jobs to support their families. Once, a child tried to play outside when he saw a crowd of rats running towards his home; he screamed, “Look Daddy, they are coming to invade our house!” Tired of seeing rats taking over the town, the farmers decided to have a secret meeting with the king to find a solution to drive the rats away from Hamelin.

While their talk lasted for hours, the king made a promise to the people to find a way to get rid of all the rats permanently as quickly as possible. A commoner suggested torching the holes of the rats; however, his suggestion was ridiculed by other members of the meeting mentioning that the town would be burned down. Shortly, the king made his servants poison the rats, hammer every rat in sight, and even throw stones at them; nonetheless, none of the ways solved the problem, but made the condition worse as the rats grew fatter every day. Seeing that the king was unable to resolve the crisis, the town people started discussing about dethroning the king for his inefficiency. One of the farmers expressed his anger “Our king is of no use, we should throw him out of the palace!” On the other hand, the king was worried about losing his emperorship and determined to find a key to free the people from agony and trouble from the rats. Therefore, he called for a delegation of the wisest men in the entire kingdom who could swipe the “little monsters” away from the peaceful kingdom and declared a huge reward of thousand gold coins if they succeeded.

However the problem persisted, till the day a strange man came to the town. He was tall and white with a long hair; he wore reddish purple overcoat, big leather boots, and a brown pointed hat. A slim flute was tied to his hip belt. He walked gently around the town and smiled at the people passing by. Soft-spoken yet manly, nobody knew where he came from. He finally introduced himself as the Pied Piper and explained that he had a special skill to control all the animals with various melodies he created on his flute. He said, “People of Hamelin, now that the Pied Piper has arrived to free you from the rats, you all will have your peaceful Hamelin back. I just need to have a small talk with your king.”

(The Original SMART Piper Piper with children of Hamelin)

As the whole town of Hamelin was full of talks about the Pied Piper and his skill, the king called him for a meeting in his palace. Strangely, as the Pied Piper walked through the pathway, none of the rats came out of their holes. Witnessing a miracle, the king happily invited the Piper in his personal room to talk about the reward he previously announced. The king increased the amount of reward to fifteen hundred gold coins and asked him to eradicate the whole species of rat from his kingdom. The Pied Piper became so glad with the reward that he began playing his flute from the palace itself; however in his overjoyed mood, he forgot to play the actual tune and played the joyous melody that made every child in the town follow him. While he continued playing his tune, children including the prince walked after him dancing to the joyful music he played—the Pied Piper and the children walked miles away from Hamelin. Finally, when the Pied Piper was tired of playing his flute and sought for water, he was surprised to see children following him instead of the rats. Appalled with his foolishness, the Pied Piper decided to get back to Hamelin and play the right tune to make the rats follow him. As he began to play the tune for the rats, the children were horrified to realize that they were away from their homes, and began to ask the tall man about their parents. Confused and panic-stricken, the Pied Piper asked the children to follow him back to Hamelin while he played the flute. Nonetheless, the children refused stating, “Our parents have told us not to talk to strangers” and initiated searching for familiar ways to their town.

The Pied Piper decided to correct his mistake and returned to Hamelin playing his flute where the parents of the children were searching anxiously for their children all over the place. When the Pied Piper finally arrived, the parents questioned him about where their children were. Unable to answer about the whereabouts of the children, he said that he came back only to drive the rats out of the town and take his reward. A mother of the child shouted, “He took out children away, and how dare he come back to take his reward? Drive him away from here!” Raged with fury, the town folks broke his flute and chased him to a distance.

After throwing the Pied Piper away from the town, the whole town along with the king went in search of their missing children. While the people went way, the fat rats giggled with delight as they witnessed the adversity of the Pied Piper who came to throw them out of the town. After that, the rats freely took over the town and established their regime. Even today, the parents are still searching for their children in the dense forests of England while the town of Hamelin is governed by rats.

P. S: (this story had to use the characters without matching the original story. So, if this does not really make sense or match the story you read or know about, blame it one me :P )