YOU

You
and me.
You, who decide
to make me happy,
And I,
who decide to act
like I don’t care.

So many things,
some said,
some unsaid,
and walking in long strides.
I can’t take compliments,
they all say.
Perhaps they are right.
I unceremoniously thank you.

Of course I’m flattered.
Everyone gets flattered.
I’m just the kind
who comes home,
thinks,
thinks some more,
and then decides that I’m not as good
as you said. 

For a few moments,
lives intersect.
And off we go.
For better or for worse.

Saying Goodbye

It’s always hard to say Goodbye. Jyoti’s going to India to study, and yesterday was I met her for the last time, probably for years. I know it’s best for her that she goes. I also know that even if she hadn’t gone, we would have only two months together till I went, but it’s still hard. The Goodbye was normal and I controlled myself on the tempo home, but after I got home, I couldn’t.

The diaries she gave me for safekeeping are still in that bag on the floor. I don’t want to keep them away just yet. Three years is a long time, and we went through a lot together. *Sigh* I’m gonna miss her.

Hopeless Romantics. ;)

“Think of love as a state of grace not the means to anything but the alpha and omega. An end to itself.” –From ‘Love in the Time of Cholera”

I’m becoming lovesick. Really. And for no one in particular. And since there are only a few people who listen to my bullcrap (about this) without calling me a despot, it’s finding its way into my blog. Some people are nice enough to say it’s natural, so here it is, shamelessly, a list I started when I was telling a friend I need wake-up calls. (Please let’s not argue about how someone else can also give me a wake-up call)

I want a guy (not just any guy hai feri) to give me wake-up calls
To pick me up
To find time to walk with me ALL OVER the city,
Go with me to parties
And dance till we drop
And eventually live with me,
Make me breakfast and eat, with love, the breakfast I made him.

*The above is just a very short list. I can come up with more.

Shristi says “solitude is the profoundest fact of human state, so it’s stupid to dream of dancing till I drop”. Thomas quotes a serial he watched “sometimes, perfection can be different than you imagined” re. The difference between a hopeless romantic and a not-hopeless-romantic. Fortunately/ unfortunately I’m in the first category. Arrrrgggh!

Saturday

Most of the time, we (my family) are so busy that weekends don’t feel like weekends anymore. Except perhaps for Loki who has to go to school the rest of the week. I sometimes even forget the day of the week, because everyday’s the same for me- work a little, waste some time, spend time online (kill me, Dear God) and sleep with a heavy heart (for having done so litle work) and a busy routine for the next day, which I end up not following anyways.

This Saturday is already an interesting one (at 10:30) though. Auntie Dearest (who my Mom loves as much as- definately no less than- me) doesn’t want to go where Mom had unilaterally planned for us to go. (I’m sorry but I have issues about my Mother’s love for her siblings which I make no effort to hide.) Loko is singing “Silsila Yeh Chahat ka” in a utterly cute girly way, and I have no clue where he heard that song early in the morning from. I’m finally blogging. My aim for today is to finish two units of translation, and do a portion of the work I’m doing for Baba so that after he comes back (he’s not in town at the moment), I don’t have to endure any “don’t disappoint me”s and do other work that I’ve committed to. Also so that I can meet Ajju after forever tomorrow. (For that matter, my working pace is majorly going down. I’ve become so damn guffadi, you can’t even begin to imagine.)

For brunch today (daal-bhaat at 10 like every other Saturday) we had 3 varieties of farsi (pumpkin). Loki joked that if he had to eat any more fasri, he’d ang himself on a farsi ko lahara (pumpkin stalk) and kill himself. I have my problems with these people (who doesn’t have problems with their families?) but I simply love them. Loads and loads and loads. I wonder how bland my life will be without them (or theirs without me.)

I’m going to read a bit before I start working.

Toodles,
Maichyang

GPK- Just Something I Found

“In 2003 when GP Koirala met the Maoists in a secret venue in India, they offered him the first presidency in exchange for the NC’s support for the Maoist demand for a constituent assembly and republic. Koirala refused.” (http://www.nepalitimes.com.np/issue/2008/05/23/GuestColumn/14806)

I pity the poor old man, but at the same time my respect for him continues to grow. In the end the Nepali Congress did end up supporting the two demands that the Maoists put forward, and even leading the movement for them. Koirala could have said yes to the Maoists’ proposal and gained himself the position, but he wuldn’t have been true to his politics (and the people would’ve noticed something fishy). We may argue about what Girija Prasad Koirala and the party he led fought for, but we can’t deny that this man was more for the country than for a post at the hardest of times.

I hate that GPK is handing a Minister Post to Sujata like it’s her inheritance, becasue she doesn’t have the political knowledge or experience for it, but this man has done the country much good, and I salute him for that.

“Pyaar Dosti Hai”= Love is Friendship

I don’t know how, but yesterday I rememberred that confident answer Shah Rukh Khan gave his Literature teacher in the film “Kuch Kuch Hota Hai”. And I started wondering… Is love really friendship? Or is love really JUST friendship? (I’m not saying it isn’t, I’m just confused)

I’m not falling for anyone (trust me on that one) but I do listen to love songs a lot. And that old feeling comes back- I wish I could fall truly madly deeply in love and sing a few songs for whoever the lucky man will be. “Khabar Nahi” from Dostana (I also love the other Dostana song “Jaane Kyun”),  ”Yeh Tumhari Meri Baatein” and “Tum  ho Toh” from ROCK ON! and “Khuda Jaane”- the cheesiest I can ever get. Oh, and not to be forgotten is Plain White T’s “1, 2, 3, 4″. Love Love Love. And I’d love to hear a version of “Hey There Delilah” sung exclusively for me. I’m going crazzzeee.

You know, maybe the “Lucky Man” is not that lucky after all- He has to put up with my singing and my voice. Poor thing.

Hate Mail

The interesting thing about blogging (even if it’s anonymously) is that you don’t just make friends, you repel people too.

I recieved an unpleasant surprise yesterday evening, when a person who referred to herself as “Shital” posted a comment, NOT relating to my post, but on me, and my background. (http://maichyang.wordpress.com/2009/05/16/the-not-so-new-army-issue/) Clearly, it was someone who knows who I am, but from a distance (as I know from her interpretation of what my world consists of.)  And perhaps because I’ve recieved solace from a reader some time back  that  readers do not care about my background and understand “exactly” the feelings of being judged on grounds of my background, this was unexpected.

It is a mistake we bloggers make, I was told recently by another blogger, when we overestimate our wit in trying to remain anonymous, but also underestimate our reader’s intelligence in figuring out who we are. The same applies to people who comment on our entries. Bloggers are blessed with a tool called search on their Blogs. They can search not only by the commentor’s names (people can use any number of names, nicknames, and pennames to comment) but also by the IP address they use when they make the comment.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy comments though. I enjoy comments, and especially constructive criticism. (http://maichyang.wordpress.com/2008/12/27/what-patriotism-isnt/) I love discussions (http://maichyang.wordpress.com/2009/01/03/load-shedding/ and interactions. But personal insults…? I think we Nepalis, as a race or an identity, or a people, have a lot of growing up to do. Also another reminder- denying  (or commenting on) a “rich”/ “elite”/ “educated” person’s freedom of opinion and speech is as much discrimination as denying the same rights for the poor and downtrodden is.

:)

I’m crazily happy. For no reason. Yesteday Panda asked “Talai ke bhayo bihan bihanai? Ke khais?” (What happened too you early in the morning? What did you have?)  Haha.

I’ve become a workholic (Don’t really have an option since I’ve already taken charge of so much work.) The good part is that I’m also having fun! Wednesday Ajju and I went to meet JJ, and Thursday the three of us and Panda went out, shopping for my birthday gifts. (The idea of me going along surprises quite a few people.) Monday I went swimming, Tuesday out to lunch with Mr. Rai (hehe). And I’ve been gymming for about a month now. (Don’t get me wrong, I’m not fat. Just trying to tone myself a bit. I’m not a fitness freak or anorexic either.)

I still haven’t had anything that’s made me jump with happiness, or scream,  as I wanted a month back. (http://maichyang.wordpress.com/2009/04/20/what-i-want-here-and-now/) But this is good enough. Zindagi rocks!

The not-so-new Army Issue

NOTE: I haven’t written about Politics for very long now, and I know I’m commenting on an issue that’s already old. It’s just that I’ve been extremely busy in the past few days working, but can’t let this issue go without writing about it. My analysis is nothing close to a professional political analyst, but I’ll do my best.

The political dispute about the Nepal Army is more complex than most of us understand. (for people who don’t know- the Maoists wanted to sack the Chief of Army Staff, the other parties were against it. Coalition partners quit the government after the decision was made, and the President instructed the CoAS that the Maoists sacked to remain in office. This finally resulted in the Maoists resigning from government and the new government has still not been formed.) The complexities of the situation have increased after the video of Maoist Chairperson’s address to PLA third division has been unveiled by the media. (In the video the Maoist supremo Prachanda addresses his cadres and says that he has hoodwinked the political parties and the United Nations Mission in Nepal.)

Bitterness, Nostalgia, and People

I’ve become bitter lately and I know it. And trust me, it’s not a nice feeling when you know that you were a nicer person than you are, or that no one can stand you anymore. It started after I came back from Lumbini; for the first time in the past year, and perhaps for the first time in my life, I had no work, and nothing to pass my time with. And after that came the college rejections. They didn’t make me feel like I wasn’t good enough; they made me feel jinxed. I guess you can’t entirely blame me for however bitter I now am.

Anonymity under Attack, Once Again.

Page 3 and the paparazzi don’t amaze me anymore. What amazes me is that people care about MY identity. I think it’s a very NEPALI thing, but excuse me if I’m wrong. I mean I think the vast majority of people know how to treat anonymous blogs like anonymous blogs and repect people’s wishes about their identities. And sadly, it’s not just one or two Nepalis who’s either asked me who I was, or spread rumors about who I am, what school I went to, and whose daughter/neice/cousin I am.

What I Want (here and now)

It’s amazing how so many wishes end up unfulfilled. Nearly two years ago, I’d made a wishlist. (http://maichyang.wordpress.com/2007/06/27/endless-wishes/) So many of those wishes can not come true anymore. Here’s the new list of seemingly unimportant stuff I want at the moment, have a look:

1. I want to sleep. Not the watered-down kind of sleep I get these days, but nice strong sleep. I wish I could postpone waking up for a few days, so that I could wake up with no worries, and no lathargia from the day before.
2. I want to go on a vacation unmarred by the tensions of getting a scholarship. It doesn’t matter where, the beach, the mountains, the hills, Chitwan, Pokhara, wherever. But one day (ONE DAY) I’ll surely holiday in the Swiss Alps. And ski.
3. I want to party with a free mind, and dance till I drop.
4. I want to dress up in white clothes with some red in them (one white sari with a flashy border and aanchal, a dress with a Banarasi sari belt, and a white kurta with a colorful sari and shawl) – I know it sounds like a “so just go and get it!” wish, but I don’t know what I’d do with clothes I won’t wear much.
5.  I wish I had a scooter (preferably pink) so that I wouldn’t have to ask Sanjog Dai to make trips on his motorcycle to the opposite end of town from where he lives, so that I wouldn’t have to leave home an hour before I had to get anywhere, so that I’s save the tempo and micro and more painful taxi money, and so that I could feel independent.
6. I wish I had the confidence that so many people my age do, or that I used to have some time back. I wish I could love myself despite the odds, despite unforeseen failures and everything else.
7. I want to have just one take-your-breath-away moment. I realised a few days ago that for a very very, very very long time there hasn’t been any news that’s made me jump with happiness, or scream, or prance around. The world is too predictable. I wish life had some more excitement.

Un-passionately miserable,
Maichyang

Black Sheep- A Magnet for Criticism

Sometimes I wonder how two people who grew up together in the same kinds of families (the children of two siblings) can be so different. [This post is inspired by some comments that I got from relatives yesterday.]

My first cousin and I are less than a year apart. She wants to study, get a job, get married, and have kids. She does not care about what job she gets, as well as it pays well, and there are chances for some recognition and promotions. I want to do something I love. I care about the educational standards in my country, and I’m resolute on doing something about it, or at least trying. I want to study something that interests me, something that will challenge me and something I care about. She chose her subject because it has “scope” all over the world. I think taking a year off increased the depth of my understanding about work, life and my country. She would never consider it. She gloats at the thought of finishing her Masters by age 23, by which age I will just have finished my Bachelors. For her, it’s not about where you get, or how rich your experiences are, it’s about how fast you get there.

Cute guy, another cute guy, and sprained ankles

Ouch. Why me?

The phrase reminds me of a chain-mail that I was sent, about a world-champion tennis player who had cancer never asking God “why me?” because God had not only chosen her to suffer from a cancer that prevented her from playing, he/she had also made her a world champion in tennis.

Dreams.

Don’t dwell on dreams, for if dreams die,
Life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.

And from one of my older posts:
At one time, I used to say, “Dreams die but don’t kill.” I’ve realised now, that although dreams themselves aren’t harmful, the death of a dream can be sorrow enough to kill. I remember reading something in a Hindi story by Prembad. It was something like this, “No, Vani, you shouldn’t let any dream be more than life. If that dies, everything in you will die. Then, you will have to live like an empty container that will flow effortessly with the flow of time. It happens, Vani, there is nothing inside the body, and the body just floats more.” It makes me wonder whether I’ve let my dreams be more-than-life. And then I remember yet another saying, “remember that great love and great achievement include great risk.”
I do not want to be an empty container.

Cross Your Fingers for Me

Rejection letters are not fun.  At all.

To cheer me up, or to stop me from whining, people say stuff like “don’t worry, you’ll go someplace you deserve to be.” They even give me examples from their lives, or from that of other friends. Atulya’s been very nice about it, and something Priyanka said made sense “you’re meant to go to a certain place and meet certain people; don’t worry you’ll get there”. Ajju even withdrew her application from two places I had applied to after she got her college. I’ so lucky to have her as a friend.

Despite all that, and the fact that things end up fine, it’s still unfair. People who have the same GPA got into college already, and I have better work experience and SAT scores. I didn’t force myself to work so that I’d get into college; my restlessness was enough of a motivation. But I’d expect it to pay off. With only 7 colleges remaining, it’s hard to stay optimistic. On a better note, I’m more excited at the prospects of India (as a backup) than I previously was.

Please cross your fingers for me.

All I want to say

All I want to say is spread over my head like little clouds in the bright blue sky, or like little islands in the vastest of oceans.

1. This, the first one, is my musings over the events of the past few days. There are some people who get some of the things they want, and some people who get ALL the things they EVER wanted. And there are lots and lots of people in between. There are also those people who think they NEVER get ANYTHING they want, but they’re mistaken. We’re all lucky, although the extent may differ for each one of us. When we think of ways in which someone is luckier than us, we might as well also think of how we’re luckier than them. Like Robert Frost said, life goes on.
2. Picture this: you’ve hung out with a group of people for around five years, sometimes having such big differences that the only reason you stuck to them was because you didn’t have the courage to “ditch” them and hurt them. One person from that group was almost a best friend (only “almost”, even then.) Then one fine day, you find out that that certain someone never liked you. She’s always hated sharing her “best friend” with you. It’s shocking, a tad bit painful, and even amusing. I absolutely DETEST people who establish, or want to establish ownership on another human being- I mean what do words like “sharing” imply anyways?
3. Now for a concept that I’ve written a million times on my diary, but never on the blog. (Imagine how much I can rant when I actually write a diary AND blog.) Anyways, do you know of the times when, for no apparent reason, or for a chaotic jumble of reasons, you wish that you wouldn’t have to wake up the next morning? It’s not the same as wanting to die, not the very least like it. It’s like wanting to hibernate, or to not have to think about anything. Personally, I feel like this desire can be satisfied be sleeping with just a little bit of sun on you, sun sieved perhaps by thin curtains, or the net window (jaali ko jhyal).It’s just that I’ve been feeling a that for the past week, although it’s been quite a normal week.
4. Okay, I can’t downplay the good things that have happened this week. The first was a meet with a friend after (WHAT?!?) two months. We had coffee (and cake), motorcycled through Sanepa, out into the Ring Road, and in again from the __-Bagmati route. Then we had some pizza that tasted like jaad (while I giggled uncontrollably over it for almost half an hour.) The second was a friend’s Bartaman party, where (too) I giggled at how someone (an ex-classmate) kept making jokes that weren’t funny. Going to the jotisi, how scared we were, and how he disappointed we were with his accuracy when we stepped out. A pastry from a friend (guy) who used to be so rude to me at school. Tasty momos full of fat, pizzas so hot they blistered the roof of my mouth, and yummy sundaes.
5. Now for the bad things that happened. (It amazes me how the weekends were the least eventful days of my week.) I had a fight with another ex-classmate when I (apparently) insulted her cousin who had dumped a friend of mine. It didn’t bug me, apart from the fact that one of my closest friends is also really close to that girl. Something else that pissed me off was the lack of any credit whatsoever for the success of a project I had contributed to (with payment, of course). Working a whole day underfed. And the juice that I spilt on one corner of my laptop’s keyboard. At first, a few keys were just a little hard. Now they’re sticky (blame all the sugar in the juice). Just what I thought could never happen to me.
6. Perhaps for the reason mentioned in point number 3, I’ve been reading a lot. An amusing fact: my two mechanisms of defense (not the ones you study about in Psychology) are just the opposites of each other. One’s reading, because it takes me into another world. The other’s writing, because when I write, I become clearer about what I feel. It’s funny that one keeps me from thinking too much, and the other cleanses me by making me think to a point of saturation. Which one I use, depends on the mood of the time. I love the way a human mind (and body too, but not the topic of discussion here) works.

Well, now that I’ve written about why I haven’t been writing, I go. Cross your fingers until the colleges I’ve applied to send me their decisions.

I’ll leave you with a song I love (it just played on my computer). It’s called “Zindagi” from the Hindi film “Yuvraaj”. This one’s especially for Ajju and JJ. Don’t senti nakhau too much when you listen to it, la?

Till I see you again,
Maichyang