Ironically funny incident

This one I have to write. You know, sitting in front of my machine, thinking of what to write and what to edit in this newspaper is quite a tough job, especially since I have to generate ideas and articles to write. Till now, I have a precious few patrons. So this is one of my brain-racking creations. You can be the judge of whether my brain is pathetic. After all, "brain is one thing that we have that animals don't" (yes, i know. animals do have them - but Mrs. Shalini Wadhwa, the CEO of BOSS magazine, told her audience in one of the magazine-launching ceremonies recently; and i thought, maybe there is some truth in it!).

So we're gonna move ahead now:

I was heading back from playing basketball at 'The Club' in Bhatbhateni (or bishalnagar?) with Sid and friends. Since I live in Lalitpur, I have to take the B'teni-Patandhoka bus to get home. It is a common fact that the bus crawls at andante, and it stops for hours in Bhatbhateni before if heading back. So I patiently waited, and the bus did move after a while. All along the way, it picked passengers... But I decided not to mind it. Besides, I was noticing interesting things from inside the bus. there was a big doko of oranges lodged between seats, giving a faint orangish aroma (my friend Anjani would've finished all!). The driver sported a nonenviable shock of long, curly hair (much like M. Jackson's). everything seemed quaintly suburban.

To cut the long story short, the bus reached Tundikhel. Suddenly, I realized that all buses go through the Purano Buspark. That's a black hole- when a bus enters, it never comes out. Well, I was too tired to get out of my seat, so I thought why not wait it out, I have the whole sunday.
I waited for about 2 hours, I think. honestly, I think it was lunch time or something (the engine was off, no driver, people dozing- know what i mean?). I decided I could not wait anymore. So I hopped off the bus, skipped over many dirty puddles, and got to teh main road.

There, with a leisurely pace, I walked with the confidence that a Microbus will pick me up- that's their trick of the trade. however, I could not hail one down even when I reached Singhadurbar. With a heavy heart, I trudged ahead. The road beyond S'durbar (where Sarbochha Adalat and Agri. Dev. Bank all are situated) is known for no stops, except for one on the other side, I kept looking back, straining my neck, hoping for a Microbus-ride, but to no avail.

So, readers, my ordeal was stretched to limits as I had to pass Maitighar on foot. Although I was sane enough to cut across the road and take the shortest path to Thapathali, and not to walk around the roundabout.

I FINALLY reached Thapathali. Here with an open call-out to God, I declared that I will renounce his faith if I do not get any form of transport there. Either because God got afraid, or because of the fact that Thapathali is a major stop for all public transport, I spotted a few stopped rides. However, there were no Microbuses. I saw a bus, and climbed aboard. I just sank in the closest empty seat ( i was in a position to ask an elderly to leave the seat for me in pity), and contemplated the situation. Something hit me in full force (I do not mean physically).

WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was in the same bus I had deserted in the Purano Buspark! I saw that MJ-looking hairstyle of the driver to confirm the fact. What's more, my eyes met those of the driver, and I could swear that he was laughing. Smiling, at least!

Is this the most ironical situation one can ever be? I was so grateful to have found the bus, but I was too impatient to stay on the bus a while ago! Sheepishly I handed a 5-rupee note to the conductor, praying that he won't recongnize me, or at least not laugh at my face.

What should I make of this incident? What was all that about? Is that not the most inefficient way of traveling from one point to another? I have told this incident to many people. I get so worked up that I find it frustratingly funny. Much like laughing at Will Ferrell's antics in 'Old School'. Well, MAYBE like Sid's trouble with his newly purchased keyboard. People usually crack up when I recount my absurd anecdote- I guess that lightens things up.

Pictures that I found: Karya Binayak

I was wondering what to post next in my blog, so I looked at the pics in my computer, and found a few interesting ones. I hope you'll enjoy them.

Karya Binayak is a great place. This temple is quite small despite the distance one needs to travel from the city of Kathmandu.

Quite Freaky:
This chicken had been offered (beheaded) to the temple, and left outside. It was flapping feebly, it had probably been left in that state for a while... this child was crouching in front of the chicken for a long time. I think she looked either stunned or amazed. Either of the two.


The row of flaming buttered wicks.


My best part of any hindu temple (I mean the place where they put the lit wicks). You can see people queueing in front of the temple door. The insides in such temples are always very cramped, dim-lit, full of offerings (flowers, rice grains, suspicious looking dark sticky patches), and the statues of the deities are almost always just barely seen. I seldom go inside :)

Trip to Bajrajogini

I had been meaning to write about the visit to the Bajrajogini temple at Sankhu. It is actually quite well maintained. Our family's 'kul deuta' is in the Bajrajogini temple. This means, every april our whole family (as in including my father's cousins, etc. - about 100 people?) go to the temple.


The temple is located at the top of a hill. There is an option to drive up the hill in a steep slope of a road. However, we always park on the foot of the hill, and walk about 10-15 minutes up the series of stone-paved steps, as shown in the pic.

There are many small temples and statues on the way, and the path is surrounded by green thick forest. There are many monkeys around, who tend to attack on groups, but only to those walking alone. My cousin had a bad experience, which I will not write at this moment ;)
This year, I took a digital camera with me, my thumbs in the trigger, ready to shoot at touristy sights.



This was pretty amazing, something I had never seen before. This is the torso of quite an old uprooted tree, and you can see the roots that are clutching the big stones. The whole thing is about as tall as my waist, and quite thick.


I love this small stupa. It is situated about in the middle of the stone path, so that people can walk around it- I think it is considered unlucky to walk from its right side. The fact that it sits still there for a long time evokes a certain sense of permanence, and, vaguely, immortality Although I dont believe in god. I think religion is just a 'happy package' devised by people themselves to make an easier transit through life.


this is an amazing portion of the path. I took this on the way down. Even during the day, one can hear that incessant sounds of the crickets.


This is a dhungedhara en route to the temple.


Nice, isn't it? This is the part of a small stupa near the lower temple of 'Hyangu Khwaa Maaju', meaning 'Red-Faced Goddess'. The upper temple is for 'Mhasu Khwaa Maaju', meaning, 'Yellow-Faced Goddess'. I wish I knew more about the temples, but I dont. The temples are well maintained and clean. One of the non-discovered places so far. Devoid of the clutter, the whole place looked quite serene and peaceful. I had a great time there.

Check this out.

This cart belongs to 'Women Environment Group', in Kupondol, my homeplace. They collect waste from houses in this cart, and we pay some monthly fee for the services.
This guy is on his way to dump the waste (guess where) in the banks of Bagmati. That is, about 25 meters from my house! When we found this out, we chained the cart to a nearby telephone pole, and the officials from that office came and burnt the waste, and took the cart away. seriously, what's wrong with people here?

The aftermaths of a party

dull headaches; brain feels too crowded. feeling silly the night before... it all is so deja vu. someone told me that its best when you learn from mistakes. i just dont seem to do well on that arena.
you finish a glass, and head for another one... it seems natural. however, the body is too fragile to handle all the pleasures of the world. take for example drugs... they give you euphoria, but your body atrophies. that leaves me wondering (as many things do- if i had one true thing to write on my resume, it would be 'can wonder about great many things'); maybe the drug-users know the best way to live life. who is to know? maybe their lives are shortened coz of that... but arent we more concerned about the quality of life than its length? if its all euphoric, racy, exciting, and if it amazingly distorts reality, who's the loser? maybe there ought t o be a rehabilitation center for non-junkies ,what say? or, more accurately, orientation centers... well, to use the drug-l ingo, how about 'Da Orientation Joint'?
dance parties are conditioned environments, right? that's because efforts are made to make it as different and opposite from the real world as possible. and it brings out different aspects from a person. personally, alcohol just dulls me. but sometimes, about an hour after drinking, it really makes me mellow.
so i was recuperating with my friends... the fact that there was not a single drop of lemon in the house was not helping my mood. we scrabbled, but i could not think of any words more than 4-letter ones! pathetic. well, i could score 'drunk', 'tipsy', 'silly', and 'party'- but it was still a painful experience. my poor brain. i think i should give it a rest... i guess i should go find my hypnotist. so yeah, i'll stop writing now.

This is how magic works

A magician was driving down the road..then he turned into a drive way...
(copied from somewhere in www)

Two Muffins (Saw it somewhere in www)

Two muffins are in the oven.
One says to the other "God it's hot in here"
The other one replies "Oh no... It's a talking muffin"

driving through city streets

Microbuses are indispensable sore vehicles that hog the KTM streets today. They are leaps ahead of Vikram tempos (which are both inefficient and polluting). They easily dominate the poor EV-vehicles who have grown weary of pointing out to the Nepali mass that their pollution is more palatable (which is to say that their pollution- dumping of acids and batteries- are done with stealth and therefore is of no concern to KTM-basi's).

Everyday, the micro drivers take to the city streets with an objective of demonstrating that vehicles are capable of lunging, darting, performing hair-raising acrobatics, and shuttling through impossibly narrow intervehicular spaces . Yet they are preferred by the passengers. They are filthily faster than any public transport, and are dirt cheap. They also service many places which were previously quite inaccessible.If impatience is your thing, ride this baby and you will get to your place in no time, be it bhaktapur, dhulikhel, or manakamana.Together with the package comes the audio supplement of various folk music with sufficiently audible volume that is sure to reach the eardrums of every passenger. Furthermore, they demonstrate the 'more car per car' tagline with a 'leave no man/woman behind' policy; the tagline of MBs should rather be 'there's always a room for more'. hence, an average passenger gets to enjoy the sonic battery as well as olfactory stimulation of body aroma of fellow passengers.

The worst repercussion is that these white raiders hog the street spaces, hence my newly coined term- space pollution. The drivers are so nonchalant that they 1) fail to acknowledge the presence of a policeman standing about a feet away, desperately trying to get attention of the driver, 2) manage to chat with other micro-drivers on trivias, or openly ogle at/harass female pedestrians, and 3) use the side lights and mirrors only for fun.

Micros still have a staunch rival- the maruti taxicabs- who are, in fact, more competent in street maneuvers. strapped with suzuki engines, these tiny wonders are seen cruising around everywhere. if microbuses are called micros, then by logic, these can be called microcars (MCs), that they are! . the drivers of these MCs are astute to realize that parking in the 'sanotino' intersections allow them a better probability of catching hold of their passengers, because they are now 'visible' to more number of roads. The day I realized this, I was so amazed by their brilliance that I stopped cursing them on cluttering the intersections and increasing penchant for traffic mishaps, especially when I had to maneuver my car around them. I have taken taxis at such strategic locations as granted- even when i see just feet of a dozing driver behind the wheel, or the fully-unfolded newspaper engulfing the whole space inside the MC, i just marvel at their game plans.

I have developed a theorem: Ceteris paribus, anyone riding a particular vehicle type develops a special loathing for all the other vehicle types infesting the city streets.This is a demonstrable truth. Take A, for example, who is driving a car. He hates it when the kamikaze bikers (the sizes of whose bikes grow by every new introduction of models) zoom past cars at breakneck speeds, especially in crowded streets. The hatred arises from many sources: 1) bike has the advantage of getting through traffic much faster than cars 2) bikers have tendencies of recklessness- inflicting lateral scratches and ear-tweakings (bendings of the side mirrors). They also perform treacherous dips just ahead of cars during their weaving among the street lanes, forcing the car driver to cautiously monitor an area of about 3 feet around the car.

Bikers hate cars just because they seem so bulky, and seem to be causing the traffic slowdowns. (they usually silently volunteer to veer forward seemingly towards the epicenter of the traffic block, some even performing as ad-hoc traffic monitors signaling the oncoming traffic). Microbuses hate the eco-friendlies because they are slow and unacrobatic. They get hated in return for bullying through the traffic.

An important lemma to this theorem is that every vehicle type thinks that it is the king of the road, and the rest are useless space polluters.