Part 1 (of many)

"I should stop wasting my time and finish my report," she thought as she closed the facebook window. Once again Samridhi had found herself living in the past, going through the photos and posts from the last year. But she has a fast approaching deadline and that is why she was here.

This was one of her favourite places to work from. She loved sitting in this quite corner sipping some amazing Nepali coffee. People didn't disturb her here, mostly because she rarely met anyone she knew, so she was generally able to get her work done easily enough.

But today was different; today she was finding it difficult to finish this report. Her mind was wandering and she was unable to focus. She only had three days before the submission deadline and she was nowhere near done. She knew that she no longer has enough time to edit it, for now at least. "Well good thing it is just the draft," her colleague had said to her earlier that day, "Send out the draft and take some time to refresh. After that you can really focus on the final version." She knew he was right, this was the last report of the project and this will take some revisions before it gets just right. As far as she was concerned, this is her last assignment here, her contract will end in three months and that should be enough time for her to wrap this project up. She had no intention of extending her contract, she wanted to follow through her plan - finish this and start her new life. The thought of her new life filled her, once again, with a sense of obscurity. She didn't want to think of that right now. She just wanted to get her work done but that was not going too well either.

"Today is not my day," she thought, "I'll get back to it in the morning." As she finished for the day and closed her laptop, she figured it was a good time for another cup of coffee. She usually doesn't drink more than two cups a day, but maybe she could go a bit overboard today. The taste of her last cup of coffee had already vanished from her lips and after all she was still at her favourite coffee place.

As she took the first sip, she could feel her taste buds come alive. Samridhi loved the vividness of strong coffee - the raw bitterness of it somehow made her cherish it more, somehow made her succumb to it. Much like the way people tend to go after that which hurts them, Samridhi went after those things, people, experiences, that were bitter, painful, and uncomfortable. Experiencing the bitterness of her coffee was one of the few pleasures in her life right now. Her life was so engrossed on closing this chapter and starting the next, that she had taken a break from taking breaks and enjoying the little pleasures of life that she once so cherished, one of them of course was the coffee at this place.

By the time she hopped on her scooter to get back home, it was dark, she didn't live that far away from the cafe, and she could potentially avoid traffic at this hour, this was a good time to go back home. The thought of cruising through the road, in the cool of the evening and avoiding traffic, was making her smile. She put on her jacket, her mask and her helmet. She was ready to ride on. Indeed there was not much traffic towards her home, she was happy on her scooter. Although covered by a mask and her helmet visor, Samridhi enjoyed what little bit of wind she could feel on her face. Feeling the wind on her face, on her hair, while she was on a scooter was another simple pleasure she cherished, but that was taken away from her the same way it was taken away from the hundreds of thousands of people who lived in this city.

She looked around the road, there were no street lights there - there rarely are any in this city, but the roads were getting some light from the shops on either side. This will be quite different in the new place where she will start her new life. "Nowhere in the world can be like Kathmandu," she started to say to herself feeling a bit annoyed by its polluted, lightless, broken roads, "but then again, nowhere in the world can be like Kathmandu!" it was true and she wasn't exactly happy about that. Nowhere else had she grown up, nowhere else had she made her memories, nowhere else will her life be as comforting and protected as here. "Am I really looking forward to following through my plans?" she often wondered.

Just as she was getting back from her thoughts she missed a pothole in the road and was unable to balance her scooter. She fell to the side of the road. It took her a while to get back on her feet, only after a few pedestrians held her scooter off of her. She wasn't hurt too bad, just a scratch on her left arm and leg. She wasn't speeding so fast and she didn't feel too hurt. As she was thanking the people who helped her, before getting back on her scooter, one of them told her to get the wounds checked. "Thank you, I will," she said back, but she wasn't going to, it was just a scratch, who gets a superficial skin wound checked?

After a few minutes of riding, she saw lights from a pharmacy lighting the road. It made her wonder if she should get some antiseptic for her wounds, it is perhaps the smart thing to do and Samridhi was the practical kind. Although she was sure the wounds were nothing, she was the kind to put in a bit of effort to avoid a possible infection.

She went to the parking lot of the hospital next to the pharmacy to park her scooter and walked out. The pharmacy was crowded, with only three staff trying to serve everyone. She finally managed to get the attention of one and asked for an antiseptic solution. A bit annoyed by her the staff wanted to know which brand, it seemed like he was saying, "Why are you making my work more difficult, just tell me exactly what you want and be on your way." No Samridhi didn't understand his annoyance, she explained to him that she fell from her scooter and wanted to use some antiseptic on her wounds, she is sure it is nothing, just a scratch, but it is better to take precautions, after all she doesn't want to end up with an infection..., her thoughts had a tendency of pouring out unexpectedly. "Didi, if you want to avoid infection may be it is better you pop into the emergency room for a quick check," he was being both considerate of her situation and also didn't want to waste too much of his time on her. There were so many more people he needed to get to, without another word he moved on to the next person.

Knowing she won't get his attention again anytime soon, Samridhi reluctantly went in the emergency room of the hospital; it had that peculiar medical smell that she hated. She completed the paperwork, paid the fees, and was directed to a chair. A medical staff looked at her wounds, "The wounds are not deep, don't worry," she said, "I'll clean and dress the wounds and give you a precautionary shot." She was all done within 15 minutes, sometimes the efficiency of this city surprised her, but generally it was the inefficiency that she found bewildering.

As she picked her bag and walked out she couldn't help but think how long a day this has been, she was happy she was finally on her way back home, she could use a good night's sleep. She was barely out of the door when she felt a tap on her shoulder and a voice asking, "Sammy, is that you?"

Samridhi couldn't believe it, she hadn't seen him in how long? 10 years? May be more. For a split second she couldn't believe it was him, but she knew better. They had grown up together, there was no way she could mistake him, just as there was no way he could mistake her. Her face was probably a reflection of her confusion, so without waiting anymore for her to respond, the smiling face in front of her said, "Don't you recognize me? It’s me, Kartik," and gave her a familial hug.

Tomorrow

Across the room, over the counter

There is that smile, there is that laughter

He pours their shots and fills their mugs

Another voice somewhere yells, "Chug! Chug! Chug!"

Yes, there are voices everywhere

Some you hear, some just flake

Yes, they're always celebrating here

Some success and some heartbreaks

"So what is your story?" I asked him, but he did not tell

Instead the conversation moved to me, my life, my hurt and my hell

I have lived, risen into the clouds of love and fallen into an abyss of sorrow

"But you need to move on", he said, and I just replied, "Not today, Maybe tomorrow."

Today there will be no more amplifications of my heartache

Today I get intoxicated, today I forget

Today I just look at that man who seems to have lost his cat, or was it a dog?

Today I hear a lovely young couple sing in an alcohol induced twang

Today I see college kids celebrate their freedom, or mask their pain

Today I find everyone, my family, my friends, within these confines

Today I forget, I forget there is a world outside

And yet with every sun-up, I go out the door

But until then, what is the hurry?

A Surface of Calmness

The vision of you, lying back, motionless, a tender lifeless form, is perfect. In the emptiness of your chamber, you lie on your pedestal.

Falling around your retired eyes is the gold of your turning strands. The gold turns around your closed lids, the lids that cover the eyes, the eyes that have witnessed my joy and beheld my despair.

Your face is like butter, smooth and pleasant, a surface of calmness after the churning I have put you through. But now you should rest, I should put you to sleep and not wake you. Nor in the course of my unrest should I evoke you from your slumber.

Your lips are strained in purple, the dull purple in contrast to your pale, bloodless skin, with beads of red dried on the curling corners.

….if the death of love in a person's heart had a human form, I imagine it will look something like this…peaceful, beautiful, but still dead.

Only to Hear You

Your words break the silence

They even break the darkness…

You echo in my entire being as I exist only to listen

To listen to your melody, travel through the emptiness and reverberate back to me…

To listen to the sound of that one deep breathe I take to calm my racing heart…

To listen to you gasp and pause between the words you speak…

Yet indeed, not to listen to the words themselves, for the words don’t matter

I close my eyes, and the words don't matter…

I let you in my mind, I feel you in my mind, and the words don't matter…

I hear you say them,

I hear them in a feathered whisper,

I hear them as clearly as I hear my own heart pound,

But the words still don’t matter

Nothing matters,

Everything fades,

And the only truth is your voice,

Your voice falling into my ears

The End

"Close your eyes and take a step", she tells herself. "Let the wind carry your body, let go, let nothing and nobody matter." One step, it is all it takes. As she moves into the abyss, she takes in one long breath. The air that moves her lungs moves along the rest of her body now. She can hear it swishing by on her left and her right, it takes away all the pain. Gravity takes control of her body, but her spirit is free, she is floating. Deeper and deeper into the fall that seems to have no end; ah 'end' it is such a dear word. Powerless and numb, there is no sensation, she only breathes. Every worry gone, every problem seems so pointless, every suffering, every disappointment, every last shred of pain, gone. For those precious few seconds, her heart calms down, her mind relaxes, her muscles unwind, her nerves stop bothering her, and there is only the air in her chest and the wind caressing her body. Everything she held important is completely meaningless now, why did she ever care? It doesn’t matter, she has found her salvation.

She opens her eyes and looks down, down into the bottom, that is where her numb body would have been had she taken the step. At the pit, with the rocks, still and calm, liberated and lifeless. Instead she takes a step back and turns around. As she starts to walk she realizes her one true salvation will have to wait. She was at the edge yet again. A part of her has already died today so that the rest of her may live on. She dies, everyday, a little bit, and she waits, for that one fine day when she wouldn’t have to die all the time. As she walks along, a relieved smile flutters along her lips. 

The Garden and the Wilde Words

I'm always a little extra happy when I see a post in facebook that says something in the lines of "join us in wishing Oscar Wilde a happy birthday". That day I'm happy that he was born, I'm happy that I discovered him. He makes me fall in love with beauty, he takes me into the garden of Basil Hallward, the blessed garden with the flowers, the leaves, the sunlight and with Dorian. Dorian, the Adonis.
Years have gone by since the first time I was at the garden, since the first time I saw Dorian drinking the scent of some flower and getting doe-eyed listening to Henry Wotton. But the garden is still alive, and like Dorian, it is unspoiled, beautiful and youthful.
I know the garden, with all its beauty and charm, is not real, and I know Dorian, with all his beauty and charm, is not real. But there are times, especially when immersed in Wilde Words, where reality is just an extension of the imagination and where fact gives way to fiction to find 'beautiful meanings in beautiful things'.
In this quest, I look out the student's window where the little nightingale is draining its heart's blood into the red rose, I watch Hugie sulk in his walk after his extravagance and his charming scolding, and, I look into the broken leaden heart of the happy prince. The tragic beauty, or, is it comic? How dreadful of me to even suggest that!!!
But it is just simple, plain, pure beauty, one that cannot be spoiled, cannot be adulterated.
And in the end, I will always be fond of him, he represents to me all the sins I never had the courage to commit.

Bungh Dyo Jatra - The Annual Chariot Festival of Rato Machindranath of Patan (Bungh Dyo or the Deity from Bungh)

The much anticipated annual chariot festival of Rato (Red) Machindranath is here. The Rato Machindranath of Patan is worshiped in a variety of incarnations; to the Buddhists he is the tantric edition of Avalokiteshwor, Shaivites worship him as an incarnation of Shiva, some cults worship him as Kali, Tara, Lokeshwor, Karunamaya, or Matsyendranath, whereas some believe him to be Biranchinarayan. Even with all these names and incarnations the Rato Machindranath of Patan is most popularly known as ‘Bungh Dyo’ among its worshipers; the deity who is brought to Patan every year from the settlement of Bungamati, 5 kilometers away.

A shlok mentioned in the essay ‘Biranchinarayan’ (Manandhar, J.B., 2046 B.S. “Biranchinarayan”, Kathmandu: pp.120) can be translated as follows:

‘The one who is worshiped as Vishnu by Vaisnavites, Shiva by Shaivites, Shakti by Shaktas (followers of the Mother Goddess – Shakti), Surya by Shauryas (followers of the sun god – Surya), Brahma by Brahmans, Matsyendranath by Saints, Lokeshwor by the Vedics, and, Karunamaya by the Buddhists; I pray daily to such a deity’

The chariot of Matsyendranath at Lagankhel, Patan (2008) along with the smaller chariot of Min-Nath

The chariot festival of Bungh Dyo, travels through the streets of Patan, accompanied by a smaller chariot of Min-Nath. The chariot of Machindranath or Bungh Dyo consists of a square wooden shrine, covered in gilt, placed centrally at a wooden platform. The shrine along with the wheels and the beams are preserved from the previous years, but the other requirements such as poles, green boughs, streamers, vines, ropes and canes are assembled every year. The four large wheels, each with three painted eyes, represent four Bhairavs from the four places in the valley, the main beam of the chariot, called ‘Dhaima’ in Newari, represents the Karkotak Naag, the pulling ropes also represent the naags (serpents). It is said that the chariot of Rato Machindranath is constructed with representations of all the deities in some form or the other. Other images that are place in the chariot are of a Horse – the vahana of Surya, a Bull – vahana of Shiva, a Garuda – Vahana of Vishnu, and a Swan – vahana of Brahma. The number 32 plays an important role in the chariot construction, it is said that one revolution of the wheels (circumference) of the chariot measures 32 hands (32 haat).