Some Politics

Why do the UML politicians make me regret declaring that I was a UML supporter? Every time they speak, I feel embarrassed. Please stop it, dear politicians.

And why do I feel disgusted of the Maobadis and the small Monarchist parties each time I watch the Constituent Aasembly meetings live on TV? The only person amongst the 601-26 people there who actually knows how to talk is Gagan Thapa. Kill Sujata Koirala, and I might just support the Nepali Congress.

How the *!#$&% is the country suposed to function without a King (no, I am not a Monarchist) or a President, or a Prime Minister? Maybe they should actually think before they talk, even if only a little

Memories of an Unrequitted Love

Bhatbhateni Super Market has changed a lot since I was 14, but it still reminds me of love. A love that was always meant to work out, and another that remained unrequitted. When it was just the four of us, we used to go there from social service, and get stuff to eat. And most of the time, we had very little money. So we used to search the rows of biscuits for the “best buy”, how many grams of flour we could get per rupee, and then we used to walk back to the orphanage, munching the biscuits, talking of this and that, savouring the moments.

Child Labour

A few friends were over at my place a few days ago, when my helper and my aunt’s helper came back from school. Two of my friends made a face. “That’s your helper?” They asked, signaling at the fourteen-year old who stays at my home and helps with house-hold chores. I nodded.

“How old is she?” someone asked.

“Fourteen” I said. Too bad she looks smaller than her age.

On the face of it, keeping children as domestic help seems bad, sinful even. But under the surface, it isn’t always that bad.

After exams- Updates

A few things have been bogging me down lately, namely the “what-am-I-going-to-do-with-myself” syndrome. I guess in a way, I was trying to take the easy way out, applying to college this year, so that I wouldn’t have to kill myself to “do something constructive.” I mean if I’d gotten in (and I sure expected to) it would’ve- at least I would’ve known what to do.

Yesterday, I signed a contract with my new employer. I mean, I’d started work, some time ago, but the contract happened only yesterday. I feel like an adult: a legal tax-paying adult. But then, even euphoria (the thought of earning your own money) had it’s effects on me. I feel scared, like I don’t know what to do with the money. (An easy way would be saving it, but there are questions like: should I give it to my parents to keep or should I have my own account? And should i get the debit card I’ve always wanted? I’ve promised to give my friends a treat, but I’m feeling stingy- even with so much money comming, it seems like too little to do everrythign I’ve wanted) I’m a translator, and I guess this is the first “job” I’ve taken, apart from the low-paying stuff I used to do for Dad and my relatives (and one that my great aunt paid me NOTHING for). It’s a landmark in the sense that if i decide to take any translating tasks in teh future (which I probably will) my pay will have to be at least close to what I’m getting for this task. Euphoria Unlimited!