Another recovered one again! I am excavating and opening some closed closets and finding some treasures, which are my own! well may be dream for anthology is not that far now! good!

This time,
When we meet,
I will ask no questions,
And don't you offer any answers.
Just let the thudding beat of hearts,
Speak the language of passion.

I will lock the past in closet.
And don't you probe,
the future prospects.
Lets not wear watch that day,
Let our feelings set its own timing.

Let's not speak,
Let the silence prevail.
And let it remain that way,
Soft and cool.
Hiding the burning desire,
Beneath that facade.

But EYES!
our eyes,
Will decode that hidden message.
It will interpret all those silent years of longing and waiting.

Something profound will happen that day.
The hidden volcano,
Buried inside our heart,
The lava of love
Will spill out.
BANG!
EXPLOSION!
Everything will be submerged in throes of passion.

So, what's the use of these
Questions and answers.
Of past and future.
Of problems and solutions.
Of certainity and confusions.

That instant moment,
Everything will be clear.
Everything!!!

But that day,
Oh! that day,
When would be that day?
Perhaps, this november

It was somewhere in between the year of 2004 I wrote this I am sure. I laugh while I read this. I recovered it suddenly! amazingly!

.....................................................
I am sick and weary
Of hoping and coping.
With your inbearable attitude,
And I am myself
Tired of this waiting,
Caring and raving,
For your little words,
small kindness
And tiny gestures.

Now at this point,
I find myself asking.
Why me? always me?
To start something,
To share something.
Yes, it has been me all along.

You are always,
Shut like a clam.
Speaking nothing.
Like a dark mirror,
You reveal nothing.

Ok, be the way you are.

But, I am tired of this game.
I am sick of this,
Role of faithful admirer of yours.

It's time, I start beleiving,
That no mattter how much anyone tries,
It's impossible to ,
Love without condition.

I am tired of this,
Self-sacrificing love.
I am afraid.
To turn into martyr.

Something in my heart,
Breaks now.
I hear a silent crash.
Yes, my dreams have broken.
Faiths have shaken.
And my positive attitude has,
Desolved in thin air.
Which I had rebuild after such a long time.

My thoughts are always,
Full of gloom and doom.
And I am desperately worried.
That's why I sent you that message,
" Don't worry, be happy"

Kathmandu

I miss you

despite your dirty streets

pollution in the air

that flares my nostrils

I even love

countless hours of load shedding you have

I love your darkened streets

I love your candle lit homes

Where we all hunch together to talk

Where we switch of television and

suddenly 'channel war' between siblings

cease to exist

I love you for your spontaneity

Everyday when I am out of my home to work

I can never predict

whether I will reach to work in time

One single incident

like a bike

hit by a car

turns into a 'class war'

in few minutes

Tyres burning all around

Slogans

In an hour, we face 'Bandhas'

I even love these

"Bandhas'

When I can sit back

and blame all those

good for nothing politicians

Life is surely hard

Dark

Dangerous

in Kathmandu

But never for a minute

it lulls us into nothingness

There is always something to be angry about

There is always something to be happy about

And aren't these emotions important!

That is what keeps us alive after all

These strong emotions,

for me, it is a sign that I live

In contrast,

Imagine living in a city

When everyday,

You know that you are going to reach to work in time

when everyday you take the same bus

Or same train

You never speak

Everyone has a book to read

No one shouts and no one screams

There is however always a blank stare

That tells me 'you do not belong'

In Kathmandu, I dare to shout

When I am in a crowd of people

I lose myself,

But also there are stares that follows me

There are gossips that tracks me

I am 'someone' in Kathmandu

Thus, It is Kathmandu where I belong

Where I eat 'chana chatpate' on the way to campus

Where I haggle and bargain for 2 Rs

Where I get wet when car passes by me and

bestows me with a muddy water

Then I shout

Then I curse

and move along

Yes, it is Kathmandu

Where I truly belong

This is something i wrote long time ago, in my ' lonely abroad days'. I rediscovered it suddenly shuffling pages of my old diary. My eyes are still moist!

In this train
that goes somewhere
I am going nowhere
reaching nowhere

Without you
There is no journey
I am travelling towards a big void

I came from somewhere
to reach nowhere
It seems my life is
just standstill

It is just same morning
That I don't want to wake up to
I don't have your loving embrace
to refresh me

I have no one
Here, in this 'abroad'
To share, to care

This long distance love
based on emails
and occasional minute calls

I live only in these moments
your words ,
news from home.

I see shubham in your words
I am hugging him through your words

My son far away
from my bosom,
from my embrace

I am just a far distant voice
for him in a mobile phone
I see his childhood growing
in my husband's emails

Each year
at this day,
Present year ends
and new year begins
In between that,
We grow little older
Little saner
Lets not talk about big changes
But think big with small deeds
Each year,
Lets review
What we were
What we are
And what we will be
Each year in wake of change
Lets review
Ourselves
Lets search that inner voice within us
To discover our true selves

Happy New Year 2066

What am I avoiding

and thus what I am confronting!

Something is going down the drain

Something is missing

Something is being destroyed

Something precious

as we both recognize

Something we are killing

softly

with our indifference

With our 'small talk'

of trivial matters

Price of Stupidity!

what is the price

One can pay for

Stupidity

For not knowing

an outcome

For every mistake done,

It is not mistake in the beginning

Rather it is a possibility

which might either turn into success

Or failure

or something that is neither

but in the middle of both

So, if one does not dare

One does not risk

What will be the outcome

No actions

No outcome!

No risks

No mistakes

Thus,

I paid a price today

Literally something big

but still small for peace of my mind

I should let this go!

Dollar

Dollar Dollar

A price in dollars

Converted to Nepali don't know

how much it would be

Thus, I am speaking

Literally and figuratively

At this moment,

I am just thinking

Of various other prices

I have paid for daring

For thinking

For taking risks

But I would continue doing it

I know

But I would have rather liked

to pay this 'huge' price

to someone who had truly

benefited from it

I wished I could have a choice

to give it like 'donation'

Be a saint outside

while hiding my sin within

Isn't what people do all the time

at least some group of people

committing sins all their life

being corrupted

And when end approaches

They wish to go to pilgrimage

Take a bath in 'ganga'

to wash of their sins?

Suddenly, this came over me, while writing my data when my participants discuss about their labour pain. I was astounded by the fact that how reluctant Nepali women are to admit how hard it is to give birth and face labour pain. It is because I argue that we are always taught to embrace pain. As one of my participant says, ' you have to accept pain, you are a woman'. Hence here is a poem, or rather a ranting about pain!!

It is a pain

to be a womanand

yet to pretend that

there is no pain

Every month

for four days

Pain comes in different forms

impurity

untouchability

It seems

women are saddled by whole world of pain

Women, are said

to be lucky to be able to give birth

Some women, on pretentious voice

say, 'it is wonderful'

to be pregnant

to have labour pain

to give birth

But we never admit

It is pain,

To carry a bulk within you

being responsible for it always

because 'child always comes first'

Hundreds of 'ante natal' classes

yoga

breathing exercises

would never prepare you to face

pain during labour

However it is lessened

when you join the chorus

of other women who are crying with pain

In hospital room

Where it is ignored

Shouted at

Suppressed

Bullied

But we cry from pain nonetheless

We form sudden empathy and support

Us, who chose to

And who did not chose to

somehow are united

with this pain

that we carry with us.

It is pain all over

that happens in our body

That happens within us

and around us

It is pain in raw level

And yet, we need to embrace this pain

Understand it

Accept it

That way, it becomes

Part of us

Then, it is no more alien

No more different

Difficult but yet acceptable

Motherhood: Academic and Personal

I have always believed 'personal is political', being a feminist. But taking that to next level, I am now experiencing 'personal is academic'. While mulling over research topic for my master's theses, the topic of motherhood appealed so much to me because I was a mother and I was facing difficulty in coming terms with it, because in a way when I decided to go ahead with further studies, I left my son. I was 'imperfect mother', 'selfish', 'career oriented'. But still, I craved for my son, I wanted to be with him but yet I knew within that i need to pursue my dreams.

That is why, I was searching for topic relating to 'difficult motherhood' like myself. Then, I came across some articles relating to Maoist women being mothers. I was immensely interested how these women experienced motherhood. They were not conventional mothers, the epitome of love and care. These women, who were combatants often went to the battlefield carrying their babies. How did they do it, how did they feel about it. I wanted to explore. It was one important way for me to make sense of my own feelings towards motherhood.

I did 10 in-depth interviews with Maoist mothers and now I am analyzing my data. I feel that I feel so closer to myself when I am working on this topic. I feel comfortable. Something rings true when these women speak to me about their experiences of leaving their children with their relatives, sometimes even strangers to ensure the safety of their child. I am still figuring out, how they see themselves as mothers. Do they face the mental battle of 'am I a good/bad mother' as most women do. How does the social beliefs about Nepali motherhood impact upon their thinking? How does the Maoist party's discourses and propoganda shape their thinking and practices of their motherhood. Well, I am going on, moving on.....................

Complexities of Parenting

This whole morning, I did not read and write a single word. We had to take Shubham to the doctor with guilty thought that he may have serious injury in his leg. We stopped trusting our instincts, we sort of blamed ourselves for what happened. My husband even had a similar dream. What a big burden parenting is at times, being totally responsible for someone so little and tender!

I am now back in my room with a great relief that he was absolutely alright and there was no serious problem. I can now work perhaps. I still haven't got my lunch. I will write and read something first and then get a go on my thesis. What a day it has been! whew!

Msytery Vs Reality

When one needs something big to do

but with very little to start with

To build a house of ideas

how to gather these small thoughts

together in a coherent way?

in structured arguments

thoughtful paragraphs

well written sentences!

I can't see piece by piece

I see things in whole

A full image

at back of my mind

scares me

what if

what i am writing

doesn't turn true to my

imagined 'image'

But still,

i must move on

tackle one step at a time

a long length of stairs

which are not ascending

but that moves ahead

with lots of bumps and holes

And there are no short cuts

We will arrive best

If we take the longer way

Harder way

They say, 'it pays most'

but How?

Still in this muddle of confusion

Still hanging around

Hovering somewhere in between

Cloud of realities!

I hope I could get back to

Mystery

A stage,

Where I wouldn't know

Where I am going

How

Why

All the suspense

Breaking down

at that final point

That anticipation

That excitement

Its not here at all

Empowerment and subjugation

Its time I slept anyway, but there is this thought in back of my mind and i wanted to make good use of it. Yesterday I had attend women's meeting in monash and I started talking a lot about Nepali women's issues and problems. Everyone was interested and wanted to learn more about that. I talked about domestic violence, women's trafficking, sexual violence and lot other issues and problems that Nepali women face, and I got an impression, or perhaps created an impression that all nepali women are subjugated, dominated and lacking of agency.

Then, I wonder whether I am turning into someone who by depicting other's owe makes a living for herself. It has always been trend that us 'western-educated' academics, professionals make out a living by 'selling' poverty and misery of people of our country.

I just need to strongly be aware that every time I talk about Nepali women, I should also talk about success stories, some women who have found empowerment, agency within structures that has hold them down: angur baba joshi, sapana pradhan malla, ram kumari jhankri, mandira sharma. Women, who have risen above their every day life and personal problems and done something really remarkable for nepali women over all. I have not been able to be one of these examples, but the best I can hope is at least I need to make it clear that I did get opportunities to be what I am today. My parents controlled me but they never discouraged me to have career. My husband has certain ideas, but I would not be where I am today without his support. So, even in a patriarchal society, there is some space, some opportunity for agency, for empowerment

http://www.nepalitimes.com.np/issue/337/Nation/13273
NationGirls of even worse character The Chelis are back with a new Declaration CHARITRAHEEN CHELIS
FROM ISSUE #337 (23 FEB 2007 - 01 MARCH 2007)
We, a hardline faction of the underground group, Charitraheen Chelis (Girls of Bad Character), have broken off and declared Nepali women autonomous.
Our breakaway faction, Jhan Charitraheen Cheli (Girls of Even Worse Character), roundly denounces the members of the original Charitraheen Cheli (See #171, #240.)
"The chelis of our mau-samuha (mother-group) did not behave badly enough," says one member of the Jhan Charitraheen Cheli. "Most are happily married, with well brought-up children. Two chelis have a steady boyfriend-meaning, one each, not one in common. And the others don't like men, or even women," she complains. "For example, after the 2005 coup they called for a sex boycott till the reinstatement of democracy-but they forgot to call off the boycott after April 2006! We take this as a grave conspiracy," she adds, explaining, "that is why we had to break away and start our own underground group."
The first meeting of the Jhan Charitraheen Cheli took place mid-February in a seedy bar in Kathmandu. Our first agenda was to revisit the 40-points declaration made by our mau-samuha on 4 March, 2005, through their official mouthpieces, Nepali Times and Kantipur, both edited by dishy men. We discovered that the 40 points are pretty damn good, especially Point No. 1, which asserts our right to take up agendas solely on the basis of our wishes and needs.
After re-passing our mau-samuha's 40 points' declaration, we progressed on to other, more timely matters. Our twelve-point declaration is as follows:
1. Make love, not regression! We declare that the sex boycott is comprehensively over retroactive to April 2006, but only for those of the loktantrik persuasion. 2. Vision 50/50: No penises in parliament! We demand that until 50 percent of seats in parliament are reserved for women of diverse backgrounds, women of diverse backgrounds should occupy all 100 percent of parliamentary seats. 3. Naturalise foreign jwais! One of our brave chelis has volunteered to sacrifice her independence (temporarily) to marry a foreign man, only to seek full naturalisation and citizenship rights for bideshi jwais (foreign sons-in-law). Qualified candidates, please apply with CV, photo, and statistics. 4. 40 is better than 33! We applaud the CPN-M for filling 40 percent of their parliamentary seats with women. But why not 50 percent? 5. And what's with the grey coats? We've noticed Maoist women open their mouths only to repeat the same carefully rehearsed party-approved lines. Ladies, we invite you to speak your minds freely. Unleash yourself from all uniformity. Start by getting rid of those awful coats. 6. Whipping is for brutes! Women of all political parties, defy all whips placed by your party denying women's rights. 7. New leadership for the New Nepal! We nominate Ram Kumari Jhankri as the first President of Nepal. 8. Turn the National Women's Commission into a constitutional body! But first, fill 50 percent of the positions in the Constitutional Council (which forms all constitutional bodies) with women. If not, fill all 100 percent of the positions with women. 9. Don't forget what makes the world go around! We unanimously declare the sexiest man in Nepal to be Sunil Babu Pant of the Blue Diamond Society. 10. Donors, back off! All your projects and networks and alliances and seminars are keeping our best women too busy to lead the women's movement. Their country needs them more than your country reports do. 11. Give it up! We demand that all our demands be met by 8 March, International Women's Day, or else we will declare a nationwide chulo-ra-cholo banda. That's right, boys: no food, and no sex for you. Nada. Zip. 12. Following the example of other successful rebel groups before us, we are fully prepared to come aboveground to take part in negotiations, should the government invite us for talks. Jaya Nari! The Jhan Charitraheen Chelis

Women's Room in Monash
It is a space,
created for women
by women!

sometimes sought in solitude
sometimes found in group
sometimes, just when we are doing nothing
sometimes, when we are doing something

sometimes, just to be there, to lie down
to read,
to write,
to paint,
to sing!
or sometimes, just do nothing
but to be there!!

I am regular visitor of women's room in monash campus centre, a space, created by women just women. But everytime I went there, I was there, myself all alone, and I kind of liked that in a way. I would lie down, pick up a feminist book and just read for pleasure to read. Other day, when struck with mensutral cramp or lousy headache, it was the only place in monash i could lie down without being embarrased for being spotted by someone.

Today, Steph had organized the morning tea discussions about violence against women. It was so interesting to talk about issues of violence against women in Nepal. In the beginning, I felt, oh! how am I going to connect with so many different women with so many different views, will I be listened to? Will I listen to them. Then, gradually, we started discussing and the meeting finally escalated to interesting phase with an arrival of a wonderful friend from singapore,who shared her life story, with so much wisdom, wit and humour. We were bonded together. I wish to continue to go there, to this cozy space again!

Spiritual empowerment
Angur Baba Joshi

Nepal and the Nepali people are passing through one of the most critical periods of history. No wonder there is an air of urgency all around. A new constitution of the people, by the people and for the people is to be made within a stipulated time frame. Amid so many urgent problems staring at both the people and the government, everyone from top to bottom seem busy in one way or another, trying to sort out problems on a priority basis. Much, of course, depends on their sense of discrimination in prioritizing the issues; but one of the non-controversial facts is that maximum input on a multidimensional basis is required to empower the women, Dalits, Janajati and other marginalized sections of Nepali society. While discussing the issue of empowerment, one issue which lies at the root of many problems but unfortunately has not received the attention it deserves, is the subject of Deekshya which includes all the basic directive principles of human conduct. Solutions proposed to solve human problems disregarding this fundamental issue is like watering the leaves and branches of a tree instead of its roots. This is exactly what has happened and is happening in the process of solving political, social or economic problems. This applies to the question of women's empowerment as well. It is very encouraging that the issue of women's multi-dimensional empowerment has by now becone a very well accepted principle. Both in words and partly in action, women's education and training programs, women's equal rights to property, legal reforms, income- generating projects for women, increasing the woman's representation at different levels of government, etc are being promoted at the government and the non-governmental levels. It is all very good indeed. In fact, all these have to be expanded on a much wider scale. However one basic factor is always neglected. Knowledge of so many subjects and/or situations and circumstances are included in the system of education. Encouragement is always given to try for good marks in exams, compete well and get a good job with good salary, earn money (sometimes even by hook or by crook as well!) rear the family and enjoy life. Yes, money is essential in life up to certain level; and it is money which can give comfort and convenience in life. But money and the things that money can buy is not enough to gain peace, happiness, joy and fulfillment which is the ultimate goal of human life across the globe irrespective of sex, creed, color or nationality. All else -- position, power, professions, purse, prestige -- are but different means to achieve that goal. For this, something more is needed than money without which, despite tremendous efforts and possession of material prosperity, people cannot be really happy and fulfilled What is this something? At the highest spiritual level it is Self-Realization; but at the ordinary level, it is Deekshya, the directive principles of human conduct which direct the public how to conduct themselves at both at private and official levels, how to make the best use of the knowledge and capabilities they have acquired through education and experience , to realize at an experiential level (not just what other people think or talk about on the basis of what they see outside) continuous peace, happiness and fulfillment. Comparatively speaking this issue is more important in formulating plans and implementing programs for women's empowerment because women are going to be mothers and have the natural responsibility to care and rear future generations and to instill in their young hearts the directive principles of Deekshya, so that they too will enjoy the life they deserve. The directive principles of human conduct indicated by Deekshya, just as the directive principle of a constitution, directs the practitioner to the path of real success in life without the supposed inevitable price of stress, strain, tension and restlessness, the most common symptoms of modern life. These principles are not the monopoly of any particular religion or sect. They are the common eternal universal human values supported and promoted by all the living religions of the world. For instance, speak the truth is a non-controversial directive. Do not steal (it includes all corruption!) is another non-controversial directive. Similarly, purity at physical, mental and intellectual levels, to keep one's sense organs under control, patience, spirit of forgiveness, intelligence equipped with the power of discrimination (just intelligence, even the dacoits have!), knowledge of all physical, mental, intellectual and spiritual aspects of human existence, to serve the needy and the deprived, not to be angry (even the medical science has discovered that anger is bad for human health), to continue one's self-study, to observe familial and social norms in one's behavior etc, all these are included in the basic directive of human conduct for a happy, fulfilled and joyful life. The issue of women empowerment is a national issue and a multi-dimensional one. Therefore it cannot be pigeon-holed as an issue of a particular sector. Women have to be empowered in all sectors: political, economic, social, cultural and human. Much is being talked about, planned, programmed and implemented in four of these fields except in the field of promoting human values as mentioned above. It is conveniently forgotten that only a good human being, a woman or a man, can make a good political leader, an honest competent and committed administrator, successful teacher or a dutiful citizen, and eventually a happy person. Deekshya is the most effective man-making technique and it lies at the root of all other development activities. Therefore Deekshya has to be included as an inevitable and integral part of the system of education and all training and public-awareness programs. It is an essential ingredient in the development of human personality, and more so for the empowerment of women. The empowered woman have to be physically fit, emotionally balanced, intellectually sharp and discriminating and spiritually enlightened, and prone to positive thinking with good character and behavior, and capable of harnessing their maximum potentialities for a happy and joyful life for themselves, for their families, society and the nation. And Deekshya empowerment delivers just that.Posted on: 2009-03-07 20:46:56 (Server Time

VERY EARLY MORNING

It was pure euphoria today, when i arrived this morning in my office, which was virtually empty except one night bird who is bit of rare sight here. So, i was up here, this morning, but of course, with one hour of checking emails ( I am no executive who gets hundreds of email), i rarely get few and got one disappointing one in the morning. Thank god, my shame is shared only by two people. Hey guys, keep your mouth shut alright. Thank god, I had not told my supervisor! and SCO, oh lucky me, my shame is safe with me.

anyways, lunch time is hovering near. So, i can only see food, but I am not that hungry what to do? Want to browse M M place to see if there's anything worthwhile, got to get present for N, want to surprise her!!

I have a deadline, which ends @ 4. I still need to write another 1,00o and see what i am doing, i am writing my blog, how stupid one can get

I need to stop fooling around and stop working. How is it that someday, as deadlines approach, you mind is so stuck that you can barely write. What am I trying to avoid, don't know.

Writing to Dizzu on Emotional Level

Dizzu, I have been struggling to write an article about you. How do I write about you? What topic do I choose, there are hundreds of them. I would never be able to write about you, as words will never be enough. That is why, I am relying on emotions. It is only through emotions, I feel that I can connect with you and can write what I want to write.

You are extraordinary but yet amazingly enough, you have always behaved like an ordinary with ordinary people like me. You are always grounded, close to earth, no pretence, no ‘ego’, no ‘surface level’ talks. Each person in your life feels that they are loved most by you and that is true. You have reached height of fame; you have made your own history. Yet it is not on display, it need not be. It can be felt. The effects of your actions, they are everywhere. You have done what you have wanted to do in life, but you keep on having new dreams and ambitions. Your dreams and ambitions have never greyed with your hair. They have not aged with you, instead they keep on growing.

You have turned your every disappointment into an incentive for new success, a new landmark. You even called your cancer a 'gift'. How does one deal with cancer twice, as if once was not enough. How does one explain what happen to one’s beautiful face in a society where women are always judged by the way they look? You mystified people, when you said it was god’s gift, a god’s way to show that no one is perfect. I remember you speaking in a programme organized by women with special needs, saying that one could turn one’s weakness into strength. It sounded possible, for me, for them, for thousand other people because you only say what you practice. Thus your words are real, they have a power in them to motivate, to transform. You have an aura of truth in you and I fee it vibrating in my self whenever I see, talk with you and remember you.

You are my growth. I have grown up seeing you. Since the age of 5, I clutch your memory of me as ‘a small girl playing harmonium’ very dearly. I am sorry that I could not turn this memory into something concrete. But I remember you, when I teach my little son to play harmonium. You have shared with me a secret of successful marriage. You have taught me valuable lessons of motherhood. I will try to stand true to you, by following your valuable life lessons, which would never be found in a book. As, it is through life we learn, and your life is an open book for everyone there to read.

I remember you saying ‘educate one girl, you educate everyone in her family’ in your speeches in our school. You inspired me to become passionate about women’s rights. How to describe you? Who you are? Women’s rights activist? Pioneer of Nepali tourism industry? Spiritualist? Social worker? It would be limiting to describe you. You are a person who has evolved with time. You have moved on. You have seen the world. You have held steadfast your beliefs but yet have moved on with new times. You have showed tradition and modernity can be combined. You have proved it with your life.

Memorable visit to Geelong

I am still in hangover. Two whole days of weekend absolute fun. My husband's very good friend and his wife invited us over their place in geelong. Waking up red eyed in 6 am ( putting clothes on shubham while he was still asleep) hoping to catch 7.12 bus (by misreading the schedule) and later discovering that there were no bus before 8 in our bus stop was indeed frustating. finally walking few blocks, got into 900 and from huntingdale train to southern cross. Then, first time, ever in ours stay in melbourne, we got into Vline train. it was wonderful! whole carpetted seats and floor, and that day i taught new word to shubham 'relax' by stretching his tiny legs and arms in vline seat. Then, we reached @ geelong station and our friend was there. we hugged each other and he took us off to botanical garden. His wonderful wife was bg preparing us a wonderful meal. To confess, we all were hungry already. Shubham has all pictures with a piece of sandwitch or biscuit in his hand. He loved the plants, he touched them and felt them. I wish my son would acquire this taste of nature, hope he would be nature loving man! he would be for sure.

After again a short visit to beach, we went over to our friends house. Every corner, wall and room was full of spiritual goods, spritual feelings. They were amazing couple. Doing lots of things together. Their hobbies and professions were interwined. Our dear friend J is tarrot reader, reiki healer, and lots and lots more. And she is incredible cook. They did some googling the day before about the kind of food we ate and then whoa, they had cooked rice and some yummy curry ( mixture of beans, pottato, cabbage, carrot( which translates into disaster for me) ) but it was suprisingly delicous. Shubham was shy at first, but later he ate full.

The greatest fun he had was when his uncle picked up loads of straberries, fresh out of garden. He ate them lots. He was stains all over his jacket with these. This was first time shubham had been in australian home. It was incredible experience for him and for us too.

We talked to each other as if we have known all our lives. But it was just first meeting with J and second with K. That's amazing how few moments can transform into a deep bonding between people. J was so dynamic, she knows everything. So beautiful. I will always remember her as a lady with flowing black dress, her hairs waving in the beach as she walks barefooted far away on the beach. We collected some corals and some stones as keepsake. It was indeed an amazing trip. Thanks J and K for everything.

A Life like story

As we live on, we go on making stories. About ourselves, about other people. Sometimes, we are the main characters, other times, a minor part in someone else's bigger stories, tumutulous stories. Story of my life is is uni directional. There is no abrubpt halt or amazing twists and turns. Just the regular process, I guess and that is what hinders me to write poems anymore.........

But I remember one of my friend's life, I sometimes still reflect on her life, on what she did, why she did and what it meant. She this woman, who I highly admire, slightly despise, let me call her 'S'.

We were buddies, going college together. A member of our gang, who were recognized as 'studious lunies' who haunt the libraries, but not so dull as to remain there all the time. We were the loudest ones in the cafe. We were the ones who would participate in poetry recitation. Sometimes in a whim we even did a political demonstration, obstructing group of men to give their examination. Our campus was always an exam center, thus we were 'supposed' to be annoyed for this lack of regularity in our studies.

How many people were there in a group? I forgot. Well, I was somewhere in between this two I guess. One was this group belonging to 'Kathmanduits', studious group of girls, who knew everything ranging from pop to mills boon novles to getting top in classes. Then, I was also in another, ' Journalistic'. all of us were interns in some paper or another. And this is where the story starts.

It is just a story, from my eyes. I don't know whether I should write it. Will she be identified? I don't know. I just can't beleive what I think of this story, sad or happy, it is somewhere in between. Something I will never be able to fathom. something, she did I would have never dared to do. That's why I secretly admire her, and may be that is why I slightly despise her.

But after all, thats her story, her life. I have no right to tell it, I decide. Even, my life story is not mine anymore and I doubt whether I have full right to share it. There are so many people around it with conflicting views and interpretations that it will never become a story enough.

Anyways, now its time to stop pretending that I am working and stop writing this..............more later to come