writeforself

They say time heals every wound, even the biggest of them but for me and my family, time seemed to be very cruel, bringing back the memories and leaving a trail of hope everytime. More than 20 years have passed but still the memories haunt us every day. All these years every day seemed to bring new hopes with the rising sun, but the rise of dusk made the ray of hope fainter. Even today I regret letting Arnish sneak out of the house that ill-fated day. It was during late 1980s, the uprising against the Panchayat system of government was at its peak. We lived in the streets of Mahaboudha, in the small white painted house adjacent to the street through Bir Hospital that led to the other side of Sainik Manch. The protest started from Ratnapark went around the city and as they reached near Mahankal temple the police shot gun in air several times and few rounds of teargas to disperse the crowd. Arnish and I often peeked through the window hole and watched the protesters running towards M

I hear him shout again…….I don’t know what’s his problem but this furious person with horns all time, so called my boss shouts for no reason. Poor Bishesh, he gets all the scorns for no any reason. “Why did the boss shout at you today?” I asked Bishesh during the lunch time. “He must be the maddest person in the world whom the world sees as a boss. I just hate him. I just came office and he started to shout as if the sky is to fall. I myself don’t know the reason behind” Bishesh answered. I can see the rage and the resentment in him but he tries to hide it. He always wanted to quit the job but for what reasons he always steps back. He is a good person. I can say that for I have worked for nearly 3 years with him by now. We both joined the office as trainee at the same time. Both of us have worked very hard during those times. But I must say luck favored me and now I am his senior. Still we are good friends. We usually have our lunch together but today his is not in good mood. “H

So that was the end of my reign as Miss Newa 2nd runner up (31st December 2011). Last year on the same day I was announced Miss Newa 2010, 2nd runner up. Handing over the crown to the new winner, I sort of felt proud as well as nervous. I was proud because I was standing there to see another outstanding girl from Newar community and passing the glorious crown to new one and I was nervous because I was standing in front of the mass who had and still has anticipations from me being the Miss Newa. The year long journey as Miss Newa was filled with fun as well as responsibility. May be others see it as just another beauty pageant, but it was and is more than just that. Had it really been a beauty pageant then maybe I could not have made it even through the auditions, forget about winning. But I was overwhelmed by this event, how the organizers were really serious about newari culture and traditions. The one month session was filled with fun as well as serious lessons. I always felt t

Every once in a while when he visits my office, my entire office smells horrible. This short and fat middle aged man (so called a client of mine) of around 40-45 with short hair, dark complexion and a bulging belly walks into my office cabin whenever he has complains to make against me. I know he never praises my hard work however never fails to complain if I miss something. I know it is frustrating but after all business is what it counts at work. This fat short man’s complain is not what irritates me, but it’s the smell of पान that he carries with him that lingers around for a long time even after he leaves marking his trail. Every time he leaves I go around my cabin with a room freshener (a li’l of exaggeration) I had to find a way or other to stop this disgusting behavior as it was unbearable to hear him speak with his mouth full of पान (half understood and half lost with his chewing) and the odor that mixes in the air that I breathe in. I know that this man realizes my disgust

Continuing with the chocolate incidents, there is another one which is way too funny. When I was around 7 years old (I vaguely remember), we had a big green colored kitchen rack. That was like a store room of the house and I had seen mom keeping stuffs there. Once I sneaked into the kitchen with an intension to peek into the rack. I don’t remember where other families were at that time. The room was dark. I crawled to the rack at a snail’s pace being conscious not to make any sound. I slowly opened the rack and ran my eyes thoroughly at all the corners just in hope to find the chocolate jar. As I was scanning through, I spotted the jar. My happiness seemed no bound then (I still be happy to find a chocolate jar :D). I forwarded my hand to reach the jar when suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Oh Gosh, I am dead now” I thought but didn’t turn around. I felt a heavy pat now and a shrug. I opened my eyes and turned back. “Oh! Mom” I uttered. “Wake up, you need to be prepared for sch

Every one of us must have craved for chocolates during our childhood and even today, and I was one of them. Among my siblings I was the one with the most desires for chocolates and I have some interesting mischievous chocolate incidents during childhoods. Though I was a good child and not that mischievous, once I did a mischief behavior. Even today when I share that incident it becomes a reason for good laugh at home. I was only six then when once an aunt of mine gifted us chocolates. As every other mother, my mom too gave us one piece each and kept the remaining in the top of a shelf so that none of us could reach to. As I have already announced myself to be mischievous for chocolates, it’s for sure I am going to mess up something. When everybody in the house was busy with their dailies, I quietly went and locked the room after me. The shelf was beside the windows which faced the corridor and a sofa was placed just below. I climbed up the sofa, and reached to the chocolates. But su