Of all the people I come across

I could spend hours and hours and hours and … (if I may go on) talking about people I’ve come across in the past few days.

Some people have all they’d ever want, a caring family, great friends, a good environment, and money (admit it, money is neccessary). Some of these people take advantage of their resources and live life healthily with a good balance of work and play (or party-however you wish to see it). They know what they want, and work for it. Other people in the have-everything category complain about everything that doesn’t work and can’t be bothered to make them better. They just ‘have fun’ when they’re young, and trust me, they’ll regret it when they grow up. A very few work to get what they want, and when they get it in the end, they regret not enjoying their past.

(Thinking of a title) *sigh*

The word is ‘Shit!’ Not the name given to digested and excreted food, but the expression. I can think of more expressive ones, but ‘shit’ is one that is universally accepted now. (I remember being greatly offended by two guys who used the word and as class president, I had given them detention.)

(I deleted the rest of this entry (on Jan 28th) because no one seemed to get it. Anyway, its not all that important. Read the rest of the entry though)

PD, I’m so sorry I haven’t called- forgive me. Suyesha, thanks for calling me this evening. I felt so much better after talking to you. It feels good remembering that I’m blessed with such great friends- including the one who commented on the post ‘For my Readers’ and called herself a ‘self-proclaimed’ friend. AJ, u rock! Also Roms, Jyoti, Shristi, Asmita, and people at word.

Crazily in Love With Life

If you see me right now, dressed up like a mumbo-jumbo, weaing big pajamas, an over-size sweater, torn socks, a red wollen cap (topi) and with my hair all over the place, yet singing and chuckling and talking to myself, you will know how crazily I am in love with life. 

For the past few days, I’ve been doing what I love and loving what I do. Im high on life. To add to the fun (I’m not kidding), I woke up pretty early today (I’ve been very lazy lately and theoritically, I like waking up early). I’ve been ignoring the grumpy people around me, and the fact that for many people I love, I am not at all special. I’ve been ignoring my knowledge of the fact (or the unproved theory) that in every platonic relationship, one person feels more than the other does. At the moment, I’m happy loving people around me, whether or not I’m being loved back. At the moment, I’m celebrating life.

Life’s great, even though I can list out a thousand things that can improve to make ‘great’ perfect. Gotta run. 

For my readers

The debates between ‘Siru’ and Mr. ‘(Somebody)’ has probably got a lot of keen eyes by now. It’s probably evident that the three of us are friends (well, we are, even though we’re usually arguing). But there’s more to it. Siru and Mr. Somebody make the cutest couple in the world. Only, they’re not going out. What a pity. Mr. Somebody thinks there can’t be anything going on between such good friends. Siru, on the other hand, jokingly admits that they are husband and wife and that when she’s mad at him, she turns him upside down and mops the floor with his hair. Haha.

The Tempo Man (as Siru refered to him)

Man, Siru, don’t get hyper. (And Mr. Somebody, don’t believe every one of Siru’s wild guesses.) It’s nothing. If it was a love interest, I would have told u on the phone, dearest. And I would probably have referred to him as ‘guy’ not man. Haha. Dissappointed? Don’t be! It’s an interesting story, although I took an extremely long time to actually start writing the story.

I was on the tempo. (Well, I guess that’s obvious by the title itself). HE looked about 45 years of age and got on in BaberMahal. He had a pile of photos, a mobile phone, and a couple of A4 size folded into one fourths. He sat on the last empty seat in the tempo next to a girl (she was probably in her early 20s) and started talking to her as if they’d known each other for years. I was amazed. I’ve seen guys do that (of course) but girls ussually don’t respond when guys initiate those conversations. But this one did. Anyway, the point was that then he gave us all the folded A4 papers. It was a Church’s Newsletter. We all took the copies he gave us.  And then, near the Maitighar Mandala, he gave about half the pictures in his hand to the girl (okay, I think I need to call her lady). She looked at them as if she knew the people in the pictures.

Anon…

I received an email with questions I was requested to answer about blogging anonymously. And then (I don’t have to tell you all my reasons always, do I?) I thought about whether I am anonymous in true sense. I know my blog has no details about me (except for the not-so-accidental ones you find in my posts), but most of my readers are people I’ve told “Read my blog hai? Its maichyang.wordpress.com.”

Blogging anonymously has its obvious advantages (and many of them, for sure). Since people do not know who you are, they will have no clue who you are talking about even if they know the person. And then there’s this thing about opening up about issues you wouldn’t talk about in public. Like your latest crazy obsessions and Freud and people who you aren’t supposed to have a crush on, but you do anyway. I bet people who know me already have a smirk on their faces and are making wild assumptions (By the way, when you assume, you make an ASS out of U and ME. Remember that always.) 

Today was one day (well of course it was one day. I mean it was one heck of a day)

I wrote this post yesterday

Today was a day in the extremes- extremely eventful in one sense, and extremely uneventful in the other. Uneventful because I woke up late, spent four hors doing nothing (my brother’s away from home for 15-20 days), went to office and spent three more hours bored out of my wits (no assignments, had some work but was too lazy to do it). I did talk to some people but that wasn’t too much fun either. I was so bored that I even unblocked someone on MSN so that he could keep me awake. The day was eventful in the sense I had a great talk (online) with a close friend after a long long time, that I saw some very interesting people and managed to really really annoy the Coool Foool (a friend of mine, if you haven’t read the post I wrote about him) and made him beg. And I went to a bakery and ate all alone- for the first time ever. (I’m someone who believes that half the fun of eating is sharing {the more the merrier}). It felt good at first, but later, I think I ate too much, I felt sort of stuffed. (A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips) After I walked 10 minutes to come home, I was fine. I was cold and it was 5:30 (a little dark these days), but I still managed to stop by the bakery and walk home (in the cold, if I haven’t mentioned). That was how strong the craving for something sweet was: very strong (as usual, but mostly, my laziness beats any craving by a huge margin 

The Power of the Mother Tongue (and more)

After three and a half months of blogging in English, over 700 visitors in my blog, 21 posts and 37 comments, I have realised that no matter how much better I can write in English, I will have more readers in my Nepali blog. My Nepali blog, pherimaichyang.wordpress.com is just a week old and has only one post. I haven’t told anyone, except my dad, about my new blog. But then, amazingly, there are 5 comments (excluding 1 I wrote myself) on that blog.