I hate, I hate

I know this may sound perfectly cliched, but I detest double standards. I desperately detest double standards. From teachers who preach about being punctual and return corrected homework a month after it is given to them to people who unconciously make comments about others being “narrow-minded”, it doesn’t fail to make me cringe.

I fail to understand why only us Asian need to be open-minded and understand and accept other people’s cultures. Don’t Westerners have to be open-minded about ours (and each other’s) values and cultures and feelings? And don’t they have to accept and appreciate the fact that we worship monkey-gods and tress stumps?

Sometimes I feel bad that I don’t live my culture. I fear that me (and people like me who are “rational” about cultural practices) are going to contribute to our culture’s extinction. I mean I’ve done puja only a couple of times, don’t know why people do a lot of things, and know Greek mythology better than Hindu mythology. And it’s not something I’m proud of. After my exams, I’ll make it a point to read Hindu mythology.

P.S. I also can’t stand it when people make claims about someone who they’ve never even talked to, based totally on what they see.

On Politics

What does Prachanda think he is?

I saw on TV the other day, “the first President of Nepal” giving a speech the other day. Following that clip, the news reader said that Young Communist League had prevented the RJP (Rastriya Janashakti Party) chairperson Surya Bahadur Thapa from from entering Sunsari for the poll campaign. Doesn’t this prove that it’s the Maoists, not the Congress, as Prachanda so fiercely claims, that is scared of the polls? Can Mr. “First President” please justify the double standards?

Overwhelmed with Emotion

14 March:
The day started *sob sob* and ended *sob sob*. And the official last day of school (for ever and ever). All gone. Just memories to help.
The tears started the moment our whole class was called on stage in assembly, where I kept hiding myself behind the tall boys the minute my eyes filled to the brim. Thankfully I didn’t cry on stage, but I did, pretty much in front of the whole damn unit 3 right after that. I’m gonna miss school terribly.

Too busy to breathe (or write)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Save me from this mess, this high pressure zone where I can’t seem to breathe. Help!

Children’s Peoms and Nostalgia

I read some Nepali children’s poetry yesterday- and enjoyed it nostalgically. My brother and I read out to each other those poems, marveling at our childhood favourites.

A few schools in the valley and outside teach chanda ka kabita (poetry wit fixed meter recited in tune) but none (or none that I’m aware of) teach gadhya kabita (poems not recited in tune, free verse). In my school, we had to borrow at least one Nepali book per week and read it. Of course, no one clould make sure we read it. They did make us write book reviews sometimes to ensure that we read a few, but a lot of people, I bet, read only the minimum requirement. (You can take a horse to the river but you can not make it drink.) Of course I read, a lot at that. I didn’t ignore Nepali books because I didn’t believe that English was a superior language to English. My parents bought a lot of story books and poetry collections, and read stuff out to us.Perhaps the reason I enjoy literature now is because I grew up with books.

Twenty Years of Bullshit

Here’s a poem I wrote some time back. Have a look:

Twenty years of bullshit,
months of hoping for better
days of nasty fights,
and hours spent in silence,
waiting to talk again.

Twenty years of bullshit,
sustained by a little hope.
Twenty years,
and more to come.
Functional.
Till death do us apart.

Unscathed…

I first started exploring the worlds of sects about two years back. Right away, I found out that I could not relate to, let alone follow, any of them. My lack of faith in sects and religious practice as a whole probably stemmed from my “rational, Western” outlook on life. Maybe I was scared I’d be too immersed in being enlightened and lose the little sanity, ambition, and willpower that I possess(ed).

Things like “you should be able to look at yourself objectively” seemed like unrealistic and even unnecessary steps to happiness. Looking at my sorrows and my happiness objectively would anything but make me a “happier” person. I mean, note the irony. I would learn to ignore my happiness only to become happy.