Bharat Mani Blogs

A Busy Year Summary

2015-12-25T09:02:00.000-06:00

It seems like I have started logging in this blog once a year just to write a end of year summary.

2015 brought a lot of changes in my life, I have become father, a time of tremendous joy and happiness. A sense of greater responsibilities towards family has arisen. I sometime look at my parents and grandparents and appreciate the fact that I was blessed to be born in the family. I was given the best childhood, education possibly available and so on. I could have been born in any place to anyone because this is just a chance. Every-time my philosophical calculation of probabilities of coincidences that have put me where I am today gets me dizzy, I have nothing but gratitude and gratefulness towards God or whatever people name it. I wish my daughter in future can accept the challenge and gift of life as I have and enjoys it. It is just too beautiful.

I was able to finish the poetry collection and get it published. Therefore, I can now be officially proud as a published writer, I guess. It was my childhood dream, my passion and my calling. It is sad that I have not been able to write as much and work on my next project-short stories. First world gives material pleasure but it rushes your life. I feel "short" on time every day-go to job, pay bill, little family time, job, bills....This cycle of redundancy makes it rather uninteresting and it provides me no materials for my writing. I find no characters around. All characters I met at job or market place or other meeting are just "stressed people" just for livelihood. I don't any color and vigor in them. The energy seems to be low and fake. And this includes me. Burden of just sustaining daily life puts Hercules pressure on people in this first world. I attempt to get out of this circle, philosophically, mentally and try my best to produce something but it has not been easy.

This year also brought me emotional roller coaster of uncertainty and confusion. Sickness in the family, inability to pick immigration decisions and a job that I wished I quit four years ago didn't help my well being. But tis gone. I believe-all problems has solution-multiple solutions most of the times, we are just clanged on to our comfort level of not wanting to change. Resistant to change is natural but only breaking of it can bring new beginning. My lesson learned from all the experience is: Make the best decision that you think of at any given situation and move on. Do not look back right away. May be down the road check if you right. If it was right- great. If it was not- move on-you learned another lesson in the process. No mistake is costly mistake in life if it still happened after careful, thoughtful pious intentions. Its is merely luck or coincidence that it happened or didn't not happen a particular way at that point.

Overall, it was a great year. I traveled to Nepal, met my family and kin. I came back rejuvenated, energized and with full of intentions. I have plan great projects for the year 2016. I hope everyone happy holidays, and happy new year. God bless you.

आधारशिबिरमा मनको भुइंचालो

2015-06-27T11:35:00.001-05:00

मनभित्रका संघर्ष

बर्षायामको बादलझैं

कालो- निलोभै मडरिंदा,

सुनौलो भबिस्यका योजना

आखैं अगाडि पछारिंदा,

मनको भुइंचालो जांदा,

सपनाको पहिरो लडदा,

बीरहको बाढी आउदा,

निराशाको हुरी चल्दा,

न गीतले मन भुल्छ,

न फूलले मन् झुल्छ,

केबल मौन आत्मा

सडकभरि भौतारिएर,

कहालिएर,

अत्तालिएर,

अफ्नै चिरपरिचित शहरमा पस्न खोज्छ;

अफ्नै आधारशिबिरमा बस्न रोज्छ ...

थकित ह्रिदयको एक तरङ

आफैं रङिन भएर

खडेरी परेको भाग्यमा

आशुले सिचाई गर्छ,

पहिरो गएको मुटुमा

आशाको पूल हाल्छ,

डांडापारीको घामझैं

उदास भएर सुस्ताए पनि

त्रसित मनको एक तरङ

थकित पाउंमा,

इश्र्वर भाकी

प्रथानाको मलम लाउंछ;

अौशीको रातको जुनकिरिझैं

अधितिय अस्तित्व खोज्छ,

युद्द हारे पनि

जीवन पाएको योद्दाझैं

भोलीको आशमा,

दियो बालेर भरोशामा

अफ्नै चिरपरिचित शहरमा पस्न खोज्छ;

अफ्नै आधारशिबिरमा बस्न रोज्छ ।

June 21st 2015

Restless Days

2015-05-30T11:05:00.003-05:00

As the earthquake begins to subside in Nepal, my internal earthquakes has begun to rumble. I have been having attacks of spasm because of my inability to be decisive and firm. I think over things too much and I change my mind too much. Being over prepared has backfired me. My plans have collapsed, and now, I have to rebuild it from the base like people have to rebuild from the foundation in Nepal.

I can't call myself unlucky as I have been tremendously lucky in many aspects of life. I am grateful for things that has happened to me. Life has given me plethora of joyous moments and it has presented me with various opportunities. I have been blessed in that sense. When I see people less fortunate than me, I realize that fact. The targets that I have put for myself were realistic- getting a book published, buying a house, starting a family, settling in some good country, retiring early to do something for others etc. I am close, yet too far from it. My restlessness comes from unpredictable turn of events, and my confusion with what is the right thing at that right moment. Or maybe I simply regret about that bigger fish that I did not catch? I am not sure. These days, I just try to be patient and search hints in the crazy dreams that I see every day.

My Beginning Portfolio

2015-03-17T18:21:00.002-05:00

I will update my Investment Portfolio shortly.

छोटो लगौटी

2015-03-17T10:00:00.000-05:00

उही काका नपर्ने भगवानले
दुई मुठी सास हालेर
यस धर्तीमा फालिदिएकाछन्,
त्यसमाथि नाना-भातिका
गिजोलगाजल हालिदिएकाछन्,
यो निरर्थक भौतिक्तामा
सबै रमाएको बेला
मेरो गीतन्जली
सुनिदेने पनि कोही छैन,
यो क्षणिक लीलामा
सबै रमाएको बेला
मेरो कबिता
गुनिदिने पनि कोहि छैन ।

अत्रिप्ती ...
निरश ...
अन्धकार ...
कोलाहाल...
कौवाको भिडमा बकुल्ला...
कहाँ जाउ ?
के गरु ?
छोटो लगौटी भएको छ जिन्दगि ।

यता ताने उता फुस्किने,
उता ताने यता खुस्किने,
छोटो लगौटी भएको छ जिन्दगि ।

यो संसारमा मलाई
न भुतको पस्चताप छ,
यो संसारमा मलाई
न भबिस्वको चिन्ता छ,
छ त केवल बर्तमानको गुनासो
हिजोको भबिस्य र भोलीको भुतको...
येतिबेलाको मात्र...

मलाई मरेपछीको
स्वर्गको मतलब छैन
मरे पछि मरिहाल्छु;

यही प्रिथीमा स्वर्गको उर्जा छ...
स्वर्ग त मेरो घर नै हो,
एकदिन पुगिहाल्छु
तर यो मेरो आधार-सिबिरमा बसुन्जेल
पानी पधेरो त धाउनै पर्‍यो
छोटै नै भए पनि
लगौटी त लाउनै पर्‍यो ।

मर्नु त छदै छ एक दिन
मर्नलाई डर थिएन,
बाँच्न नै मन नभए
बाँच्नलाई पनि कर थिएन,
तर सोच्छु:
जस्तो भए पनि
जीवनको दान पाएको छु
एक चोटि फेरि
जीवनको गीत त गाउनै पर्‍यो,
छोटो नै भए पनि
लगौटी त लाउनै पर्‍यो ।

हरेक एकान्त क्षणमा
मेरो पुकार यति हो
निर्दयी परमात्मासँग
मेरो गुहार त्यती हो:
मेरा अनगिन्ती आसुहरुमा
एउटा चासो पनि लिन सकेनौ ?
फलिनै त दियौ यो स्वर्ग रुपी नर्गमा,
एउटा गतिलो जीवन-लगौटी पनि दिन सकेनौ ?

Oct 24th 2010
Irving, Tx

Pushing the Rock Uphill

2015-03-16T21:35:00.000-05:00

When man is utterly helpless, he throws out his hand, looks up to the sky and asks- “WHY?” He weeps in private, or in the shower, because he does not want to show the world that he is a coward. Who does not want to know the cause of all cause. Does he not look for hope in churches, mosques and temples…and ask again- “WHY?”

Temple answers- your deeds in your last life.ho

Church says- Adam, Original Sin.

Mosque commands- God’s will, you have no say.

Jains- Go naked.

Stupas- Desires, expectations, shave your head, wear orange.

Source: Google pic

The pettiness of human life is often underlined, explained inasmuch as vaguely, in spiritual terms, as Jesus telling parables to stone-age, stupid, uneducated, showy, primitive and uncultured savages, ironically had a high opinion of themselves. They considered themselves “God’s chosen” but were ridiculously unaware of any geography, history, science, arts, music, religion, literature, philosophy, and other civilizations. One example of confusion goes like this- Jesus commanded them to wash each other’s feet. Now was that literal or figurative? Or was it literal then and metaphorical now? Or was it relevant then and not now? Or is anything relevant at all? Is that how you better yourself than other race and religions? I am still scratching my head.

When some pastor in North Carolina wants to put queers and sinners, (his one words) inside a150-200 miles wall, electrified strongly, and wants to wait till they die because they can’t reproduce, and his crowd exclaims “Amen”, one has to think if there is any empathy left in this Noble religion. If someone goes to church to observe fellowship, he becomes a ‘brother’, and if he does not, he is a candidate for electrified chamber?

Read Quran, pray five times, don’t eat pig, says the Imam. Go to jungle, shave your head, renounce everything at once, go orange says the other. Break the bread till he comes says another. And when there is so much weakness, confusion, helplessness and hopelessness in us, no one is honest enough to proclaim- “I really don’t know, I wish God was real.” Very few are brave enough to admit that.

There is no easy way out. Empathy has died. So has God. Only religions have multiplied over centuries. There is no mercy, no compassion in the heart of one human being for his fellow humans. “Brother, I will pray for you” one says, “Although I can’t guarantee you that it will work,… and again, leave it to his will, wait till his time.” If I can’t present my own case to God, what good of purpose does a praying for others serve? All my virtue, such as sacrifice, love, care, nobility, compassion, and humility does not play any role in the consideration? All humans’ potential virtues are shadowed, undermined, rubbished, down casted…just to yield to the good works of Prophets, sermons of the messengers, parables of the saviors, and of manifestation of God’s incarnations? My super-great Grandfather ate a fruit, and started the downfall, and all I can say now is -“Okay God, your will not mine”? I still have to pray, and wish that everything is going to be OKAY in the END? Are you saying- for now, I just have to push a big rock up a steep mountain by myself, and common sense tells me that it will roll back down to the bottom, I still try to push it up and when it accelerates down to the bottom, I have to wonder, pray again, doubt, question, but nonetheless, I have to try again to roll it back up the hill, knowing now the rock is going to do the same? (I love Greek mythology.) Read about Sisyphus here.

Brothers! We are all alike. There is no doubt. I can’t carry your burden, nor can you. Your God must be my God. What touches you must touch me somehow. What constitute you must be in me too. Do you really think there are different versions of God? May be Just like Gibran imagined-May be, there were ‘good God’ and ‘bad God’, both met, Good one said –‘Hello brother!’ Bad God did not answer. ‘Why?’ asked the Good God. Bad God replied- “For of late, I have been often mistaken for you, called by your name, and treated as if I were you, and it ill-pleased me.”

‘Same doeth the Human thinking me as I were you’- said the Good God.

Both probably then walks away cursing the stupidity if humans… As I am writing this, brother! I am cooking my own meal, washing my own laundry, condemning the religious people, and surviving myself in this ill-fated confusing world. Please pray for me as well as for yourself, because as indicated in good book – ‘thee shall probably get to reap the fruit of thy labor.’

May 23, 2012

My Favorites- Stock Market Investment News, Analysis & Research Sites

2015-03-15T20:16:00.000-05:00

Traders and Investing enthusiasts,

Investing has broad scope. For beginners like myself, excessive researches and reading is necessary to understand it better. I use websites, screeners, and applications to educate myself. Here is list of some of my favorite sites that are useful in making investing or trading decisions. I use most of them for research and information. They are in random order as I am not going to rank them. Please check the respective links to learn more about them.

1.Yahoo Finance

Which investor would not know about yahoo finance? This is a basic yahoo network site where stock symbols can be looked up and researched. You can look up the company Balance sheet, Income Statement, and Cash flow Statement etc. for free. It also provides with analyst recommendation (please do your own research also). It basically contains most of all the financial information on a company you want to look for.

2. GoogleFinance

As name suggests, Google finance is not much different from yahoo finance. Sometime Google contains information that yahoo does not (or its the other way around.) It is usually my supplement source for financial information. You can also make portfolio and track it over time.

3. FreeStockCharts.com

I love this guy. This is handy for day trader or trend traders, as I like to call them. This is stock chart that provides live charts on a dark background. You can customize it also. Adding indicators and making portfolio to track stocks of the choice is easy. Day traders love this site. The tools and technical analysis is very impressive. Check out.

4.StockCharts.com

Similar to FreeStockCharts but this guy wants your money. The free service is minimal. The premium service cost money. There are some predefined charts that has predefined criteria such as 52 week high, 52 week low or MACD crossover etc which cuts researcher's time and energy. I am not a great fan of the layout of the site.

5.Seeking Alpha

This site is full of information. It contains a lot. It has top breaking news, stocks news, earning reports, and lots and lots of articles from lots of contributors. I follow some to see what they have to say. Most are honest, others- I feel are paid to write the way they write. Do your own research but it is a great resource. It can be overwhelming at first because there is so much different opinions and information on article. Be careful to jump right to it.

6. Bloomberg

I watch Bloomberg TV and see the Bloomberg website too, sometime. It has great article, interviews with financial people and lots of other information about stock market. I have not subscribed anything but somehow they found my address and are sending me the magazines too. Its free- I will take it. This website is always delivering breaking news or so it calls it.

7. Nasdaq.com:

All the stock news, about stocks in general- past, present and the future, is talked about here. I usually use this site to look for earning dates, ex dates, dividend history and company overviews. Mostly the information are current and very reliable.

8.Finviz

This is my favorite. I call this one " The best stock screener." I use only for screening stocks to buy. It has news and articles but I rarely read them. They look ugly and boring in the 'list' format. But for screener no other screener can even come close to beat this one. This guy can select the stocks that you want. You can look up for stocks by your desired fundamentals, technical, news, earning dates, and so on. It is a massive stock search site.

9. Investopedia

Last but not the least, if you are new or you are confused on what the word 'ex-dividend date' means, please go to this website. This is the one stop shop to know about definition and general knowledge about investing. As it is said- learn to walk before run- beginners should be familiar with the language of investing.

I check few other sites as Motley fool, MarketWatch, and Wall Street but not religiously. There are many other sources that I did not mention which could be equally useful for investors and trading enthusiasts.

Again, do your own research and happy investing!!!

Investment 101

2015-03-11T12:19:00.002-05:00

Hello new investors and all those who are interested, lets begin the class.

What is investing?

The act of committing money or capital to an endeavor with the expectation of obtaining an additional income or profit- per Investopedia.

Since nobody teaching about investing in school or colleges, we have to self educate and join the party. Investing seems like its only for rich people who accumulated wealth from their parents and grandparents. It is simply not true. Anyone can do it, anyone can plan it and execute it. Investing simply is putting your money on something for the future growth, gain and profit, although loss can happen. Lets not complicate things.

Investing includes putting money into stocks, bonds, real state mutual funds, etc or just starting a business and many other things. As I do not pretend to know everything, I can't advise which is better. It all depends on lots of things- capital, interest, location, market, passion etc. My favorite is stocks. I do not come from business background, nor do I have lot of money to experiment everything. I am just a small player who is experimenting and seeing a low rate of success.

Investing is an intellectual, analytical and well thought out process of acting out looking at how the market is going to react in pursue of more money. It is not gambling. Gambling is simply out of hand and out of control. Although no one knows the future, unlike gambling, investing has some some rational to it. I would prefer to put my money in investing than giving it to some machine that is programmed to empty your pocket.

Those days when someone working the same job for 30 years and getting all the pension until the death are long gone. Social security and other government programs may or may not cover us by the time we are old. Investing can provide sense of security, independence and financial freedom. I do it for fun and I have a project to retire by 45 with nice passive income and freedom to do other things I love.

Happy Investing- more to follow as we go on.

My Simple Investing Reason

2015-03-11T11:25:00.006-05:00

For few years, I followed the stock market, I read about investing, growth, retirement, and money. Then I started to experiment myself. I am fascinated by how western world work versus the eastern world in regard to investment. In eastern world, especially, south east Asia, children are considered to be the investment (of course-literally as well), whereas western world, investment is purely monetary and about finance. Eastern parents think if they raise kids in a proper way, their kids will look after them when they grow old. They save and spend everything for the kids. Western folks have nursing home waiting for them in their old age. If they invested in time, gained some wealth and saved for retirement, it might come handy-otherwise there is lot of trouble, anxiety and depression. Financial freedom, and independence is absolute requirement if we live in western world.

I really do not care about retirement. In my culture, I will inherit my father's property and land etc. I was fortunate enough to be from a middle class family. I do not worry about what will future be like. I am not depending on my father's house or land per say but I know if something happens, I can fall back. Who in the right mind want to be dependent on parents? I have my base camp if I cant storm the weather-that is all.

I am not desperately after money. But investing has fascinated me. Stock market, bonds, and other investment are really a game. All we have to do is abide by the rule and play the game. I am learning and having fun at the same time. I do not think more money will make someone more happy, nor do I dream of becoming filthy rich so that I can afford better thing. I live and will continue to live a simple life. But, I would love to just sit, play games, write and travel while my investment gives me a constant income to aid my happy living.

I really hate to think that I will be working for some selfish rich guy until I am 65 and ready to die and realize that I did nothing that I really loved in life. I want to work for myself, enjoy, explore, and share my findings. That's my motivation for investing. I want to completely retire by 45. That's my goal in regard to working. I want to build such a portfolio that I will have complete financial freedom and independence. Time will tell. I will write more about investment ideas, stock market and investment portfolios as time pass by. Follow my journey.

About Me

2015-03-11T10:00:00.001-05:00

I am an aspiring writer. I started this blog in 2008. On and off, I blogged for a while. I was continuously interrupted by school, job and other daily things in life. At that time, the purpose of this blog was to act as “work in progress” for my future publications. Although I have a day job as a healthcare worker, I spent lots on time on writing or at this point, thinking about writing. I am also an investment enthusiast. I love philosophy and literature. I spent lot of time thinking about things.

Since childhood, I have a scattered brain. My thoughts are rapid and strong, and I can't just think about one thing at a time. Only thing I could do to contain myself was to write to express. My teachers and elders called me 'creative' and 'imaginative' writer. I considered myself 'different'. Now I look back and think- who among us, was not? We all are truly unique.

On serious note, I can't remember when I started writing stories, essays and poems. I have two novels, many short stories and hundreds of poems not yet published. Those are in Nepali and I will try to get them published some day. Although, I love Nepali language and literature, I frequently write in English for convenience. I was born in Nepal but currently live and work in the USA.

Some of my early poem are going to be published shortly in a poem collection. I am super excited. I used to read a lot of books but have not done so for a long time. I am lazy now. Lazy readers are not usually good writers but sometimes I just want to be a writer and not a “good writer'. For me, being good is not as important. I want my writings to be out there.

I listen to podcast to fall asleep. I play soccer on video games (would play in real if I had time and opportunity). Football manager is one of my favorite games. I have spent hours on that game while doing twenty other things. I read and listen religious, philosophical debates. I am actively involved in investment and loving it. I religiously love western movies. I love them. My wife is jealous. I also watch lots of older movies in my free time. I like traveling and plan to travel a lot in future. I am happily married and love my family. I have been very fortunate to be born and raised in a good family and my fortunes has exponentially soared since my relationship with my long-time girl friend, now wife. Life has been a blessing.

I have renewed energy as recently I finished my graduate school and have some spare time to write, not just literature but also about investments, travel, movies and other silly things. I am not here to preach or advise anyone. I just want to share my expediences, thoughts, opinions and insights so people may read and enjoy or get something out of it. My intention is not to argue or preach on any aspects of life. I am just enjoying it. Follow if you like, my articles, investment ideas, literature and reviews and track my growth. Also, do not hesitate to comment and share ideas.

My Aussie Trip

2014-06-15T12:04:00.000-05:00

This is my first blog entry this year, after a long interval. 2013 was emotionally draining for me. Death of grandmother among many other things...This year, I have been busy with life’s most important events. First part of the year, I was in Nepal for grandma’s yearly. US visit of my parents, less than boring job, worthless graduate school were the first part of this year’s highlight.

Been busy and lazy to write… After marriage, things have settled somewhat and life is going…in other words, despite the judgmental peoples bashing, water is continuously flowing under the bridge and its flowing preetttty good. Then Australia called me.

The ‘OZ land’, the branded name for the sociopolitical emotion for the “true blue” Australians, was my latest destination. I left US in May to see exotic Australian “mateship” (if that was a word). Not amusingly, everyone is a ‘mate’ (no pun intended there) in Australia. The hardcore slang that is so popular is indeed, used frequently. I heard someone in a bus say-“f*** you mate”. The trip that was our first trip together after wedding almost turned to a ‘compare and contrast trip’, as we began comparing each and everything in OZ to US standard. In attempt not to generalize everything in Australia, and considering my own short trip and therefore limited knowledge of Australia, I am just babbling my true feelings here- and share with my friends who want to visit or live in Australia, my own experiences. May vary individually…

Everywhere Texans go, they feel things are not big enough. Streets, highways, building, shopping complexes, people (Americans are probably the fattest in the world, sorry!), and everything else seem smaller. My purpose was to reach out and taste the seemingly newer civilization that is flourishing in the sunny lands of Australia. The coastal living, nice weather and outdoorish social life is worth mentioning. Only few and far don’t love the nice beaches and evergreen weather. And ‘mifriend’, who does not love a ‘Crocodile Dundee’ accent? But I have to say- all Australia accents are not sexy. There are some Australian redneck (if you will) who sound like Latin. The plethora of diversity or should I say, the heap of foreign people in Sydney makes you ask the question- does xenophobia really exist in Australia as Indian media has so proclaimed or is it just the ‘immigrant mentality’ of the foreigners? I saw many colors and heard many different languages. A true and blue Australian is hard to find amongst them and perhaps hard to blend into. Crocodile Dundees or the crocodile hunters are hard to find, trust me. Australia is not full of crocodiles, poisonous snakes and kangaroos (not in the residential area anyway).That is equivalent to thinking - Africans live in jungle, see lions every day and hunt. Let’s take those taboos away.

I am not bringing the colonial heritage of Australia to shame it. Every country has black history, US, Nepal, Australia or whichever; they had good days and bad. Australia has done and progressed a lot, perhaps much more in last decade than in their whole history. Their socialist mentality is hard to digest for a capitalist. Even $7 copay for a doctor visit seems unfair to an Australian mind. May be for Europeans it makes sense. I just felt jealous, seriously. Their healthcare system seems extra-ordinary, if not perfect. Socialized medicine can be tricky as we know. Although the OZ people like to be loud and proud, many wise men have shut them down saying- Australia is a ‘lucky country’. I don’t know the seriousness and depth of that, I think it is debatable, but it sure is a happy country according to ‘The OECD Best Country Better Life Index.’ People looked happier and healthier (didn’t see many obese people). May be because it has a vibe of an outdoor social hub; Australia has people on bikes and on Nikes (running shoes) a lot. Australia seems to me like a bigger Austin.

My trip also became a ‘friends get together’ trip. We meet lot of friends, old and new. We had excellent times in ‘mateship’, and we can’t be grateful enough for their hospitality. We met lot of our relatives that we had not seen for years. Nepalese community seems to be flourishing in the land. Restaurants, shops and Indian community seem to be plenty for Nepalese liking. As I visited Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide in quick succession and without much organized plan, it was like unexpected nice gift from a mean uncle. Like graffiti on the Melbourne walls, or a good tattoo in the bad place, Australian dream seems to be bitter sweet, not fairly equivocal to “so famous “ American Dream” (or is that a dead term now?), as there are pros and cons to everything. To me, it is not the place, it is what you do there, makes the difference.

I loved Australia as much as I have loved USA despite its crime rate, and gun loving population and annoying immigration laws. Both these countries have colonial past, but they have taken two totally different paths. While safe, mostly clean and prosperous, Australia may have limited opportunity due to its smaller economy. Rest is personal choice. The vibrant lifestyle, a little laid back nature, open and less pretentious laws and future promises look attractive. Oz is really something else that can’t be equally experienced in USA. While everything is expensive in Australia, they are worthful.

It was a good year for us. Luck is smiling, may be because Australia is indeed a lucky country. Great country and great land; may be our future home, who knows?

6/15/2014

Garland, Texas

Changed Man in Resistant Nepal

2013-11-08T10:27:00.000-06:00

Visiting to Nepal again soon. Travelling long distance by plane itself is a hassle. On top of that, travelling alone adds more anxiety to it. On a corner of my nostalgic mind I sing "home sweet home", while my conscious self says to me- "don't do it fool, (especially if you are visiting Nepal)".

For strictly family purposes I want to visit Nepal and fix some family issues, that are long due. Other than that, what more excitement, experience and blessing can it add to what I already have from growing up there?

I spent about eight long years before going back to Nepal and guess what, the day I landed, there was transportation strike., "Nepal Bandh". Already sleepless for more than 38 hours, I waited in a flies stricken tea shop for hours, hoping that some dumbass politician will call the strike off soon. It smelled like petrol everywhere in and around the airport. The rudeness with which people talk was typical. When I mentioned it to my uncle, he thought I was degrading my motherland and making fun of it. He reminded me that living in a first world country for few years, does not put in any position to bash the situation of Nepal. I told him- just being born here makes give me the birth right to complain or praise or talk about anything. Eyes rolling and frustrated glares...

"You have 'changed". So they say. Change carries a lot of negative connotation in Nepal. We are not supposed to change- anything, including our clothes, culture, superstitions, language, social talks, philosophy. Nothing. Nepal is resistant to change. People don't like any change, that is why the country is so slow. Same mindsets, same rulers of the country, same false pride of nationality etc. My 'changing', however, is partially true. It is not that I lived in US for few years that change me into something else. Man is a social animal and one thing it can do better than other animals is -grow. Growing in knowledge and experience. Although, I can't proclaim that I am transformed as a transcendental wise man, all the struggle, experiences and my life in US has made me a slightly different person than what I was a decade ago. Freedom, opportunity, and hope are some of the best things I have got in US. But it is not that I have transformed or changed, in that sense, I had simply forgotten the mundane, unimpressive and unnecessary(sometimes negative) things of Nepal during my hectic life in US.

I had forgotten how rude a shopkeeper can be. I had forgotten how worthless the government offices are. I had forgotten how a 'khalashi' in public bus verbally and sexually abuses our sisters and mothers. I had forgotten how people stared at me from the time they see me a mile away and keep glaring at me until I disappear from his sight. I forgot how much time Nepalese got in their disposal. They just sit in the roadside tea shop, talking nonsense, and judging people who pass by. Every day, they analyze, criticize and observe people like a monkey seeing banana for the first time. It is useless and unhelpful for them to grow. That is why people in Nepal can't transform from their dogmas and can't get out of the cycle of irresponsible time wasting. They are far too more concerned about the other people than themselves. And I am really tired of it. Whenever I am in Nepal, I can't pretend to like all that nonsense. I get afraid and anxious. I have had enough already. I have better things to do.

I am an honest man. I have not cared to be politically correct anywhere. I can tell black-black and white-white. Therefore, Nepal is not the best place for me to live for now. I am a potential target there for being called stubborn, traitor, and a mean loud mouth who talks against his own people. I have so many times said- I do not believe in nationality for the sake of it or jut because I was born in Nepal, I don't believe I have a obligatory duty towards it. I love Nepal and Nepalese in the core, not their stupidity. My nationality was purely an accident by birth. Due to political and social needs, people make cities, states, countries and so on. I accept that and have to gain passport and visa to travel somewhere else. If not for that, I consider myself a "earth dweller of my time".

Although I would love to have less conflicts with Nepal loving, change hating, trash talking, tea shop occupying pseudo-intellectuals, I am, more than ever, brave to take my unpopular positions and survive there when I visit Nepal. I want to live boldly, courageously and honestly as much as I can- wherever I go.

Nov 8, 2013

Irving, Texas

In Defense of Rice and English Abilities

2013-10-03T10:53:00.000-05:00

Facebook is flooded with the clip of Bill O' Reilly making fun of a man from Nepal who was in some kind of UN meeting in USA. Bill made fun of him in Fox show.To a sensitive mind, it is an offense. For people like O Reilly and his fox team, it is a way to grab more dumb audience and catch on to some cheap popularity.

Honestly, the video is painfully embarrassing to watch. The Nepalese guy who was supposedly in the UN meeting of some sort had hard time answering question in English. He could neither understand English, nor speak any. He did not know what "Cuisine" and "Romance" means.

Now, chauvinist and hardcore patriot like my Nepalese friends who brags about nationalism, who are proud of their heritage are quiet, perhaps embarrassed. It is probably personal for them. Not for me. I know the extremes of Nepalese politician's corruption and monopoly. I have firsthand experiences of worthless, undeserving and unqualified people in the high government position inside and outside of Nepal. For example- Call Nepalese Embassy in Washington. Someone would think that in American Embassy there would be employees who could understand and speak English. The girl who works at the reception can't utter an English word, not to mention their cocky and indifferent attitude to all the Nepalese citizen living here. My question was simple to her: when you already know the caller is another Nepalese citizen who wants some help, and you have somewhat of a problem speaking English, why don't you just talk to your fellow countryman in your own language? Why mock fun at yourself? I can almost bet, whoever she is, she does not have a degree, perhaps some politician's mistress or daughter, who is probably nominated by some corrupt politician as a employee in that embassy. Is it more embarrassing or helplessness that we as Nepalese have to admit that almost all the government jobs are created, and then their process of selection is not by qualification, skill, or mastery. It is the magic 'nomination' by the higher officials. How embarrassing is that? How stupid it looks on Nepal's resume? In Nepal's history even the prime minister did not have more than 8th grade of education, but they were simply 'nominated' (not elected )to be there. This is Nepal's main diseases.

All the students who have advanced degrees such as English, Science, Math, Engineering are jobless. They see all these 5th grader as prime minister, diplomats, ministers, secretaries holding the greatest position in and outside the country. They see some way or other these politicians are ruling them. While they are jobless, these politician are nominated to go to UN general assembly on government's expense. While most Nepali barely manage their food on table, these diplomats gets thousand dollars of allowances per day visiting this 'meeting' in foreign countries. Public are therefore forced to go on street and protest. That is why students throw stones at politicians. That is why whenever any corrupt politician comes to US nowadays, they are welcomed with garland of shoes and black paint to his face. Nepal government is useless, unworthy, and corrupt.

My first impression of this Nepali man was- He must be another 'nominated' guy. Perhaps some relative of a minister, who was travelling to US to attend UN meeting in government expense. After looking up, things were little different. Therefore, in his defense, I like to say that he did not come to UN meeting to show his superior English skills. The very priori that he should have known English is ridiculous. Americans, specially the fox news watchers, are ignorant and arrogant about the fact that English is not the only language in the world. They don't know. Even the most read and intelligent foreign leaders from France, Germany, Italy, Russia, may not have good English. They will simply use translator or just read some prepared speech in diplomatic meetings such as UN assembly. They are neither English orators, nor care what Americans think. Their job is to go there and talk about subject matter that is relevant to their countries.

After research, I found out this Nepali man, Sudarshan Subedi, is a Polio victim. His right side of his body is somewhat paralyzed since childhood. He fights for the rights of physically and mentally disable people in Nepal. He was in the meeting because of his work and effort in the community and not because of his English skills.

The word 'Cuisine' is not used in Nepal. It is SAT word for any Nepalese living in Nepal. And he didn't simply get the speed of American Accent."Have you found Romance here in New York?' That did not make sense to him. American are so arrogant and laugh at peoples accent, but they have no clue that, for 6 billion other people around the world how American speak is an accent. For a guy from Nepal, American accent sounds like a constipated donkey.

Bill of Fox news and his team admitted on the show that they have no idea on what is discussed in those UN meeting. His ask these diplomats and representatives stupid question like "you think Putin is sexy?" O'Reilly is typical arrogant, loud-mouth, immigrants hating, gun loving, warmongering, fame seeking bad journalist, who seems to have not gotten rid of his vestigial 'redneck' mentality. He is bully. He brings guests in his show and out of 10 minutes, he yells about 8 minutes, never let his guest finish his sentence and go off on him or humiliate him. It seems to me he has some kind of complex, where he was bullied so much in childhood or something, he can't get enough of bullying and yelling at his guest in his own show.

Why should anyone know English? Is English a must in UN meetings? How many language does Billy speaks?. They have no idea there are about 200 countries in the world and they don't speak English. Of course, not knowing English is not a premise to make mockery. I can ask the ability of any American to speak read or write any other foreign language. Even seniors students at any American University, struggle, to my amusement, with the basic algebra class; so forget about their foreign language skills. I can make plenty of videos where American look stupid, incapable of locating USA on map, unaware of any geography, politics, literature, astronomy, economy or any other subjects for that matter. It does not prove anything other than providing a comic relief on their expense.

By the way, Rice is a great 'cuisine'. Almost every Nepali people like rice, and consume it gracefully three time a day, every day in their entire life. Yes, I wished Mr Subedi had courage to say this phrase-"DAL BHAT TARKARI ACHAR'. That is our food. Its good, healthy and nutritious. And the combination of dal-bhat-tarkari-achar wins over any other cuisine. By the way, what is the variety in American Cuisine? This will be a typical American answer Burger...ahh ...hamburger... ahh ....sandwich... cheese burger....ahh,...steak ...may be bacon cheese burger with fries and a large diet coke?''

10/03/2013

Irving Texas

Greetings on Father's Day

2013-09-05T10:18:00.002-05:00

Mother's Day and Expressing Love

2013-05-15T09:37:00.001-05:00

Mother’s Day

Mother’s day has passed- Loosely translated, in Nepal, mother’s day is called “mother’s face watching day”; meaning- a day to visit mother and worship her. Mostly popular for married daughters coming to visit their mothers, this day brings a sense of worthiness in mothers, who are otherwise underrated.

Most mothers are looking forward to this day that has been attributed to them. Mothers expect some return of their loving and caring. For a long time, I was stupid enough to not grasp the idea of ‘why love has to be demonstrated?’ I even argued enough on the topic. It was not until I started feeling lonely, living abroad without the presence of my mother and especially grandmother, that I realized the value of showing and expressing love. I had attributed my hyper sensitive, over caring, extra cautious mother’s behavior to be some kind of abnormal happening. I had no idea that I was an introvert kid with overgrown brain.

My very first memory of my mother is an incident where my mother took me to a dentist to extract a tooth. She thought I didn’t tell her that the tooth was loose and then it got stronger again. She would not trust me when I said she was imagining things. She was so scared and told me –“now a fang will grow from that same place and it will be really ugly.’ When the dentist saw and heard me, he believed me. He nicely but firmly scolded my mother and send us home. My mother was embarrassed but was laughing about it, and still does when I revive the story, once in a while. She worried too much. She was extra protective and overly cautious. All mothers are and sometimes, it was annoying. But, they are made like that. That’s what supposed to happen.

On the contrary, my grandmother was my carefree self-made dentist or should I say ‘tooth extractor’. She pulled all my teeth when it was time. She was good at it. I remember neighbors, and cousins coming to her to extract tooth who were scared of their dentists. I have only two visits to a real dentist in my life, both were in childhood, both were painful and unnecessary, both brought undesired results and both were forced upon me. Since then, I have been lucky and as they say ‘knock on wood’, I like that record to hold till death. Funny thing is- all my grandmother’s teeth were gone by the time she was in her late 40s. She had dentures and we used to be excited to see her maneuver those around for our amusement after we begged her to. Otherwise, she was not much of a demonstrationist. I think I got most of behavioral learning from her. She was not fond of kids, and she was not shy about it. She didn’t fake annoyance. For instance, we all used were so fond of her, and would like to spend few hours talking with her in her room after dinner. Someday, when she would not really be mood to talk, she would eat quickly and come downstairs to her room, lock the door and sleep. When we go to her room and knock, she used to say- “I am already in bed, you guys! Go sleep.” We just used to laugh and go to our rooms. She was a deep observer of people’s behavior, and later, used to be critical about it. She used to nick name people. She interpreted dreams and really believed that they signify something more important in real life. She was shy, but she was not unsocial.

I see so much of her features reflecting on me daily. I think I spent most of my childhood with her than my mother. My mother was always busy, plus overly cautious and talkative, in a sense that she would romanticize simple matters of family and would exaggerate stories, not for causing trouble though, she just tried to sweeten it as much as she could. She was more creative. In other side, my grandmother was a realist, not too dramatic. She loved but didn’t much demonstrate. She didn’t vocalize her worried, grieves and care for her children that much. She used to get involved without being anxious and nervous. I remember her this one time; she wanted to go see the new Disability Hospital in Banepa, some foreign project built. I had a recent knee surgery and had a follow up. I took her with me. The hospital is at a peak, uphill from my place, and we had to walk those stiff hills like we were going for trekking in Everest. With a recent surgery, I was limping, hurting, and my grandmother could not walk fast. We didn’t have car. That was all a perfect combination. We went to see my doctor; she watched the nurse cut the stiches and clean my wounds, without any hesitation. My mother probably would have fainted. Anyway, after seeing around the hospital, we were coming down the hill. I was holding her for support so I don’t damage my knee further and I was also making sure she don’t trip and fall. Our conversation was like this:

Grandma- “Nice hospital they built, big.”

Me- “Yes. It’s a foreign project.”

“Nepali people would not, could not build this.”

“Yes”

“The nurse that removed your stiches was like a kid (bhuri was her exact word), but pretty, how old think she was?”

“19-20, she must have just come out of nursing school, she hurt me bad, I think she was inexperienced, nervous and sweating.”

“So many disables, huh? All kids have metals in their hands and feet. Poor guys… They love you though, they are fond of you”

“Yes, I was there two nights; we were about 25-30 patient in the room, all younger than me. I was the least sick among them and was making fun of nurses for their amusement.”

She laughed.

I said-“I feel lucky, they didn’t come at midnight and tighten those metal screws, going through the tibia.”

“Now, don’t play soccer anymore.”

“Yes, I think I can’t now.”

By then we were passing by a house, the small downhill path had become slippery and my legs was trembling little more.

“Budi Amai, can I take this stick from your yard? We need some help.” She asked the old woman who was sweeping her yard.

“Sure sure….I was watching both of you coming down the hill. What happened to him?” She said and gave me a good strong stick to use as a clutch.

My grandmother told her about my surgery follow up. We also drank some water from the tap.

“Is he your son or grandson?” She asked.

“My eldest grandson...”

Still ringing in my ear are my grandmother’s random yet innocent conversations. I miss her dearly. I also miss teasing her how much gifts she got from her daughters on mother’s day. I miss counting her gift money. I didn’t realize at those times, the value of demonstration of love and affection. Even though everyday should be father’s day and mother’s day, the special days designated in their names bring in action and demonstration of love and emotion. It has to be done. Vocalizing and expressing love should be taught to kids by parents. That my mother’s day insight!

Contact Me

2013-03-11T15:51:00.000-05:00

Name: Bharat Mani
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DOKO, Old People, and Purpose of Life

2013-02-16T10:30:00.001-06:00

One of my elderly coworkers was having boiled soybeans for lunch. When she offered me some, I had a moment of a DejaVu, a quick flash back. Few months back, I was having boiled soybeans for snacks with my grandmother. And my grandmother was so happy to peel the cover for me as she knew I hate peeling skins and covers of fruits like orange’s skin. It annoys me. I would only eat an orange if someone prepares if for me. Anyway, as she was enjoying doing that ‘motherly’ thing, she was also making me blush with all these questions about my marriage and her eagerness and expectation to see my children etc. I enjoyed her company. Old people are awesome. I have lived with many old people. I have been close to many old people. I liked to study their behaviors, habits and psychology. I learned a great deal from them too

After my grandmother’s passing away, I wonder sometime about God’s purpose. People, especially religious people tried to ponder about the purpose of life and they dwell on sanctity, sacredness and meaning of life. That is most absurd and abstract concept. There is no ‘PURPOSE’. Not all things have purpose. Not all things that happened are planned by God either. ‘Purpose’ is only that what we name/give to life. We understand something and claim to know things that we don’t understand and we call it meaning and purpose of life. To sum up these confusing statements, I can say-Life is to live and die, without thinking about purposes and meaning. Certainly, purpose of life is not to die. Purpose of life is Life itself. And Life means- guaranteed death. One that has life has to die. When old age and death are mentioned, even Buddha starts to have second thoughts about his beautiful wife, palace and wealth. The third thing that is left out is sickness. If all three are mixed and pondered on, life seems depressing, purposeless and a vicious circle of darkness, ignorance and death. He figured it out, but simple people like us simply can’t rise from our costumed brains and we never get out of ditches we dug and fell therein. All religions are ‘that’.

Recently I lost my grandmother, of which I am still in denial. The time of death can so sudden and cause could be uncertain. And in the midst of the death of my grandmother, I look around, see, and get amazed that people do not realize that they have to die one day. Life’s purpose is not to find purpose of life, nor is death a straight answer to the question of- “what is purpose of life”. However, there are more amusement/distractions (so I call it here, in lack of my vocabulary) in life that we are occupied by thoughts of something else that is outside of the life. Nobody ever, in conscious simple state of mind realize that we have to die one day for sure. I used to go to funerals back home because at least one guy had to represent from a house in a funeral. That day all the neighbors(the funeral attendees) would suddenly be wise and spiritual. The quietness, the purity and innocence of the human souls seemed to be recovered in them. To be around them, and to listen to them talk is like listening to Jesuss, Buddhas and Krishnas having conversation. They sound wise, they promise not to beat their wife again, they are determined to not drink wine, they would give their word to God in prayer not to quarrel for land with their brothers etc. But as soon as they return home from funeral, they forget everything. They start in the vicious cycle of greed, jealousy, lies, perversion, and other ‘sinful’ things.

Forgetting who we originally were, and forgetting what we will one day become, is the greatest tragedy of human nature. I am reminded of a famous folk-tale of an old sick and dying couple. In Nepal probably everyone must have heard it someway or other. My grandfather told me this story ten thousand times. And every time, I have loved it and listened it without being bored. This folk tale is very simple, and this has probably happened many times in human history, not only in Nepal but everywhere in the world, in every ages and every eras. Before I try to rewrite that great story- I want to preface it…somewhat.

My grandparents are both dead now. I lived with my grandparents. We took care of them until they died, without feeling burdened. I loved them, perhaps more than my own parents. Grandparents, most of the time, are nicer than parents, but sometime there are exception. Sometimes parents can be abusers, crazy, selfish too etc. Sometime they do not even qualify to be parents because of their nature abusive, alcoholic, crazy, perverted….But, anyway, the point here is leaving the exceptions and ‘unqualified’(as I like to call them), they are good people, well-wishers, selfless lovers and truly caring people. Now I have many friends that disagree. I had a very religious friend, and in one general conversation, he really spoke against his old, dying grandparents. He wished them- death. And again this guy was a religious guy of a very ‘strong’ religion. It is even sin to talk about helpless, old people like that in that religion. Although religiously I didn’t have problem with his statement, I was kind of hurt when he said- ‘they are not very productive and burden to my parents, uncles, they consume money for medication, they nag and complain all the time, they should die…” or something similar. Few weeks ago, Japanese finance minister publicly said- ‘Old people! Please die gracefully and do not be burden’, and his prime minister agreed and said – “Even when I am old, I will die gracefully, and do not want to be unproductive’. Japanese culture is little weird, in the sense that sometime, they respect and expect ‘SUICIDES’ to be graceful, Godly and religious. Western culture is different in another way. They find it funny, to live with parents. When parents get old and get disable to much, they take parents to nursing homes, hospice, assisted living, etc and their aged parents do not seem to worried or hurt much either of their actions. Perhaps they kicked the kids out when they were immature, 18 years old, trying to experiment their sexuality and what not….just saying. One has to keep in mind that, it is culturally biased opinion. The life-style, culture, media, religion and other brainwashing factors might have played role here. Even though someone may want to keep their parents at home and care, they would not be able to. They have jobs, they have children, they need privacy, their wives hate there in-laws…whatever the reason may be. I can’t simply blame one party. Sometimes, because of old age, disability, helplessness, and in pain, old people too may think they are burden to their children. But human nature most of the time, enjoys, involves and find purpose and meaning of life in “LIVING” more and “Creating” more like him. They seldom want to perish and die, if they are not ill or in ill state of mind. And of course! There are circumstances where people have to make choices.

‘Euthanasia’ is a subject of a big debate nowadays. It is little touchy too. When do we decide its better to euthanize someone? Wether or not to keep people in life support even they are ‘brain-dead’? ‘Can one commit suicide if pain, agony is too much to bear and there is no cure left? Is it a sin to help kill a suffering old guy? Is it okay if a pastor says so? What would Jesus do? Etc. Other day, I was watching a movie. An old guy, lives near a desert very far away from town. His son used to visit there often and provided him grocery and meds. But the old man is sick, blind, weak and hungry. His son had cancer in town and died. The old man can’t do much at this point. He listen to Spanish radio just to amuse himself, even though, he does not understand it. He asks the stranger passing by “Can you please shoot me? for I can’t kill myself because that offends God.” The stranger says –“ I can’t either because if I shoot you, then I will offend God.” Is it just destiny? God’s plan?

Now the folk story: I heard it from my grandfather. I want my brothers to know this. I want my uncles to know this. I want the coming generation to know this. As a moral story, perhaps its different now than my grandfather’s time and the time of my children will be different too. And the way they look at this story won’t be the same. Nevertheless, it’s a great story of profound meaning.

In a village, an old couple was sick and dying. The son, who lived with them, was tired waiting for them to die. He cared for them for a while. He was tired, exhausted, annoyed. His wife was bitching all the time because she had to take care of two old people, nearly blind and deaf, demanding, dirty and time consuming. She had to change them, clean them, give medicines and feed them. Her plans were ruined. Son was tired too, he couldn’t focus on his works. He was worried all the time. He wished they would die, but it was not happening. If they died, he would inherit all the property of his parents. He already spent a lot for their medication and care. His wife was nagging and their relation was degrading. After a long dilemma, discussion and weighing of options, the husband and wife decided that it was better and easier for them to get rid of these two old people. They go for ‘traditional route’. The son told his parents –‘we are taking you guys to pilgrimage’. Almost blind and deaf, old couple had no say or opinion. They agreed. Therefore, the son and his wife built a bamboo ‘DOKO’, a traditional basket or a ‘stretcher equivalent box’ to carry them up the mountain and to the cliff. The son planned to throw both of them from the cliff. When they were just about to throw the old couple, their son, the old couple’s only grandson, probably five or so, who was left out at home felt suspicious and happened to follow them, reached there. He loved his grandparents. He asked his father and mother-‘father and mother! what are you doing to my grandparents?’ They were kind of hesitant but then they told him the truth.

http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4114/4774554632_facd6de611.jpg

‘Grandpa and Grandma are too old and sick, so we are going to throw them from this cliff in this ‘DOKO’.

The little grandson got confused and puzzled. He pondered for a while, thinks deeply. And finally after a sigh followed by a long silence, he said -‘OKAY!’

The parents were visibly relieved. They now did “HOSTE…HAISEY…HOSTEY….HAISEY’, trying to pick up the ‘DOKO’ and throw it off the cliff. The grandson interrupts- Wait!

Father asked ‘why?’

The grandson replies- ‘Please save the DOKO, when you guys get old and sick, I will need it to throw you from here.’

People must have heard this story million times, but they forget. I have few examples in my family. They forget that they will also one day get old. I wish these family members understand. Value of life is incomparable. It is worth more than all the treasure of the world. Old people were young once. They have lived a whole life. They raised kids. They suffered, struggled, and compromised their own happiness for their children. They survived the coarse harshness, life presented them. They were kids once. They have already seen and experienced things that we do not even know. They are motivation, inspiration and purposes. Just their bodies are old, souls never get old. They should have utter respect and they should be given every chance to live a dignified life. I wish my relatives knew that they are going to get old and suffer the same consequences. Why lie? Why fight with brother for 10 feet of a land? Why antagonize your own mother because of 2 copper pots? Why jealous of brothers? Why plot against nephews and nieces? Why bear false witness? Why greed for few thousand rupees? Why be bitter at all? Why be envious of your own blood kin? I wish my uncles read the story “How Much Land Does a Man Need?’ by Tolstoy. Why do they forget the ‘DOKO’ story? May be stretchers and ambulances already replaced the use of ‘DOKO’(its uses are limited now), but the moral of the story remains the same.

My grandmother recently passed away, in a sudden and mysterious way. My parents are taking care of another aunt who has Alzheimer’s. She looks great one day, and other days, she forgets herself. Someone just have to literally sit with her every second. She could be trying to catch fire someday, very suicidal, and goes psychotic any time, not because she chose it. She was not like this always. Another grandmother is dying of cancer. More than a month has passed since she has not eaten, and several days now she has not even drank a drop of water. The pain and suffering is intolerable, and medically, all the options are exhausted. My uncles are just weeping and waiting for her last breaths, and although they want her suffering to end, they perhaps can’t conceive of losing her in “that” way. How can someone send these old people to die in nursing homes, assisted living and hospice? Just to minimize the burden? But again, in western countries like USA, what should people do? They do not live in a compound family, there are only few members in a single family, relatives live very far, women and children work or go to school, employers do not approve enough off days to take care of the sick people, they can’t quit jobs because their whole life can be messed up etc,. Really it is complex. Euthanasia, Wills, Assisted Suicides, responsibility as a creation of God, so called sanctity of life can be all argued and debated, but each circumstance are different. And one set of standard solution may not be suitable to all the cases. Each life is unique, and death too. I have no concrete/confident answer to my own question, whatsoever. I cannot generalize on old people, their caring and how to treat them. My favorite story of ‘DOKO’ is my guidelines, and I love ‘em old folks. I sure miss my grandfather and I enjoyed my companionship of my grandmother. Lucky are those who truly have chance to spend time with grandparents. Because of old people, our whole personality and attitude towards life may forever change…in a good way of course. Love old and sick people more! One of these days you will get old and sick too!

2-15-2-13

Irving, Texas

Few Days Journal …While In Nepal

2013-02-07T02:10:00.003-06:00

Few Days Journal …While In Nepal

Sep 16 2012

Banepa

Few days in here and I am dying to get back already. I am suffocating slowly. The stand stillness of this society is undeniable. The hospitality and concern among people still have not changed either. Everyone I see at least want to talk for few minutes. As I walk to the Bazar, many young teens ask me “dai do you remember me?” They are teen now means they were in one digit age when I left, and during this time, they have matured and looked different. I could not recognize most of them. A cousin sister came to see me who I have never seen before. She was not even born. She also asked me if I knew her. That was fun.

Monsoon is at its peak. It has been raining at nights since three days. The sound of the rain dropping from the rooftops on the ground makes a constant river like sound. Since two days I have waking up early like four, with the birds chirping and the milk van rambling through the street. The roads have ditches filled with mud water, big enough to swallow little kids. The black of the road is no more there, its just gravel and pebbles. Too many houses have been built around, too many dirty kids crying and too many women constantly beating their kids in return, it is like a drama house.

From the balcony, I stand and watch people pass by. The easiness, confident, stress -less and no urgent manners of people walking by…No complication, no big projects…. For them its everyday life, they don’t hurry although sometime they walk fast.

Everything is so expensive except the cell phones. Even the dogs are using cell phone to call for the mating in the middle of the street. I have never been an attention seeker and when I get too much attention, it makes me nervous and unfocused. I get too much attention from mother and grandmother. They are boiling the water, and making sure I have water for shower and cooking delicious foods but I have an easy lifestyle. I have always lived a hermit’s lifestyle. Today I took bath with the rain water collected in the water drum from last night, just for fun. The road are muddy and slippery, and too many punks driving badly in those roads. Don’t feel like going anywhere. When it rains it is muddy, when it is dry, there is too much dust. I inhaled of lot of dust last two days going and meeting people. Really Nepalese people have the greatest of immunity against pollution. I have only lost it because I didn’t have to do it for few years.

I have plans to travel up to the Mahabharat Range, to the country and take beautiful pictures. I have not used camera that much. Sometimes I take out camera to take pictures and people gaze at me, probably thinking that I am showing off, so I feel uncomfortable. Traveling in public bus- I have given up. I am going nowhere using buses for sure. I am scared to travel. If I have to live here, I have to retrain and recuperate myself first. Trying my best but too bored.

September 19, 2012

Banepa

Early around 5 here... Have been sleeping around 8pm and waking up around 3am. Its been hectic so far. Because of early morning waking up, the day seems to prolong. For few days now people are celebrating ‘Teej’, not men but women-I should say. Women are little empowered nowadays, I guess. To me it looks like a modern way to express era -long oppressed sexuality. For these few days, women are free of household duty, caring of the olds and kids and for a little bit can go to temple with beautiful clothes and jewelries on, and dance as much as they like. What cannot dance express about sexuality than anything else?

Buses are full of women in red saris. Little girls are excited to go with moms to their uncles’ homes or to temples and observe fasting in hope of getting good husbands. Women, although beaten by their no good husband almost the year around, keep this fasting for their husband’s good health and long life. Just like everyone, young and teen girls’ population also has been exponentially skied. I look from my yard- high school, college students passing. Most of them are girls, almost 65%. And they look good too. They are fit, properly dressed, wear clean cloths, carry umbrella for protecting their smooth skins. Seems like they know how to care about themselves now. They look pretty. I see lot of pretty girls on their cell phones, perhaps talking to their new boyfriends. I guess the emergence of Satellite and cable TVs and Indian serial have turned them into hyper dramatic girls. They know about cleanliness now than many years ago.

My cousins and brothers make fun of my anxiety and fear when I am taking extra caution to cross the road. I try not to give them opportunity to think that I am pretending or I have become weak. But the honking and verbal abuses, from bikers, and taxi drivers annoy me up to a passive depression. It is truth, it take courage to cross the street in Kathmandu. Only a Gorkha can do it. Talking about Gorkha... one of my Army friends is here for vacation too. For other he is Captain or Commander and what not, for me he is just a good friend, another Gurkha trying to survive in Nepal coming from a recent visit to Iraq. Seeing he argue with his parents about raising the living standard, gives me hope and energy. I have to borrow his courage and be a Gurkha in everything.

21^st September 2012

Banepa

Its been more than a week now. I am feeling really exhausted. I also finished meeting most of all good relatives. Some pretenders are still waiting for me to go to them so they can criticize about me afterwards. Most well off relatives boast 24/7 on how good their sons’ and daughters’ income are. They brag about their houses and shops and cars. They pretend to care and ask about my health and job and so on but quietly pray for my downfall and suffering. When I leave their house, they talk silly. ‘Oh he lives with his brothers in an apartment like Indians….He married low-caste…He has a daughter in USA…He didn’t meet so and so…He brought cheap gifts… Every time I hear the rumor that they said this, I get annoyed and angry. I waited and I still wait for them to say something directly to me, in my face. But they are coward, liars, hypocrites and useless, burden to this earth. They have too much time to drink tea and talk non-sense about other people. I really, truly, fully, wholeheartedly hate these people.

I told my parents about everything. I told them that I have been fortunate to make a decent living with luck, hard work and constant effort. I like to keep it this way. I want challenges in life but not from Nepalese people or so called relatives. There are only few relatives that I can count on my fingers, who I respect, love and care for. I would give my life up if it would benefit them. Only few…All others are just hungry jackals. Nobody has given me food when I am hungry or bought me clothes or made houses for me. So people should not talk about ‘my shit’. They should mind their own business. But they won’t. This is a failed country and people are sick. They get fever when they hear something good happened to someone. They lose appetite, they even faint if they see someone got better than them, in education or wealth or health or career, even when someone gets with skin tone. Nepalese people are ridiculously jealous and greedy of their own people. They get heart attack if someone wears a new shirt. Every Nepalese people living in Nepal know this is not an exaggerated statement.

All my vacation is almost finished going to relatives that don’t even really care for me. I did it just to please my father and mother. I have nothing to show to them or give any news about. They do not care about me and nor do I. I wish this is the last time. I am tired of meeting people. I am tired of their prepared dialogues, and fake concerns. I hate their rumoring habits. I loathe their negative attitude. I want to go back and start afresh. The greenery, mountains, gorges, trees and rivers are the only thing I appreciate here. I enjoy when birds chip in the morning. I love the clear sky with lots of stars. I crave of people who show love for animals and kids. I admire the innocence and hope of old people. I want true love which I don’t see here in anybody else. There is only smell of dungs and trash. I want to smell the fragrance of love and dream. I hate overcrowded cities and polluted towns. My peace and love is highly violated. I have no base. I am alone in the world and I am living a life of turmoil between cultures, generation gaps, parental obligation, professional career, Nepalese formalities and difficult yet only nutrition to support the hope of life, ie LOVE. Thank God, I like to meditate and give thanks for giving me what I have. Please accept my prayers, help me cope with these bullshit of my strangled life before the stupid kids’ fighting in the street spoil my short meditation in the evenings.

Every morning and evening I am taking my grandmother for a short walk. It is too muddy because of rain though. We come from walk and sit in our yard, and I ask my grandmother “funny” questions. She gives her ‘ innocent’ answers. She does not care about being right or being judged for intellectual integrity. She is simple, innocent, uneducated, and unafraid. Just purely and heartily she makes comments on people. She does not lie. She is tired of this weather and pretentious people, just like I am. She hates fakers just like I do. I love her. She is my inspiration, an idol, a mentor from whom I learn to overcome fear, get rid of my jealousy, envy, lying nature, and avoid constant anxiety over worldly things. I just enjoy my minutes with her. I cannot even convey to her exactly how I feel; she won’t understand the ‘BIG’ vocabularies I use. But she knows from my eyes, how blissful I feel when I am with her. And as always, she loves her radio that I gifted her. A radio to an old woman whose eye sights are going bad, that’s the best gift to overcome her boredom and I enjoy how she do not even know what the news mean. She ask question like “Babu, what does this “Atankakari” means?” or “Jharna (for Jhalnath Khanal) k bhanchha?” Life is peaceful and simple within her. I wish I could train my mind to become like hers.

Aama! Heartaches and Memories

2013-01-15T23:34:00.004-06:00

My heart aches everytime I try to forget it. The image comes back more graphic. It haunts me; pinches me in my soul somewhere. Good memories gone forever, with such a tragedy, a bitter truth, an ending that does neither tells about the beginning and nor represent the sweetness of the story. A horror! An unexpected fact and a shameful ending, a painful reality that I have to live with the rest of my life… I can’t possibly rationalize nor defend nor accept the news. My rock is gone, my role model crashed and my motivation just shattered like piece of glass, which can never be fixed. Lots of memories just flow with these tears, and dissolves with it, an innocent soul of my grandmother. She was old, lived passed most of her friends, at 85, she was still without any major diseases. She lived a long life, and at 85 when people die, it does not hurt as much. It would hurt me of course but not to this extreme. It was unforeseen; it was even undreamt up, not even in a nightmare. It has shaken my faith in GOD. It asks me questions about the authority. It asks me lot of questions, for which, not only me but no one can answer.

I can’t talk to anyone. Prayed to God, talked to few people for comfort but it does not settle my sorrow. No one has lived and shared those moments with my grandma. No one knew her better than me. Yet, I have no clue, why this happened. I am in the ocean of sorrows and I feel like people are just looking at me drowning and may be laughing. For them it is a scene, a mockery filled story, a tell-tale. No one understands the pain of my soul; it is deep. Never in my life, have I wished to go back to my childhood or teenage years, or school years to relive them. But now, I wish life was like a video game where I could go back and start at a point where I have saved it last. I wish I have a time machine on which I can go back and fix things, do something before this would happen. Reality is bitter. I am left with perhaps a never ending reminder or a saddest irony of this nature. Nature is so strong, stand in front of us like we are nothing, just a lump of nothing. Our emotions, love, caring, feeling, faith, religions, relationship means nothing to it. Nature is never impressed or depressed with our everyday mundane sadness and happiness. May be there is a bigger picture in all this, maybe there is some answers, but I am not getting it. I am not a magicians, I don’t understand the mysteries. I am a simple, helpless man of no recognitions whatsoever. I am sad.

I remember when grandpa passed away; his sons went to the crematory and performed their rituals. Being a little kid, I was not allowed. I took my grandmother to take the bath and watched her change her clothes to plain white rugs and crash her bangles. I shared that moment with my grandmother. And when I came back and spent the 12 days in the ‘mourning’, I remained with her in her room as a friend. We sat in silence and wept in silence. People came to visit and console and talked to her. When they went, we wept more, when we were alone, she in her bed and I slept in my grandpa’s bed. She was sad and I was too, for few years. But the pleasant memories of my time with grandfather simply negate and made us move pass the denial of the inevitable. The death is certain, of someone who is born in this earth. My grandfather’s empty bed remained there, still there, where I remember him sitting and teasing me to rub his feet. Now there will be two beds. Empty, sad and dark… Only deference is my grandfather said a lot before he died. I can almost write a book on that.

I had a feeling that my visit to her could be last when I went to Nepal but I had not imagined that it would end like this. First few nights, when I was in Nepal, I suffered nightmares, sleeping in my bed. I thought may be somehow I am tired from the flight, and trying to recover all my fond memories of my home. At midnight, one of the glass windows would just make a peculiar ‘dang’ sound, which I was used to, and most of family member knew it. But one night, something more than that happened. As soon as I tried to close my eyes, someone, a ghost or some energy or some force would come and try to take my soul out of me. I would try to open my eyes. It would be hard at first and I would suffer, my heart rate went up but when I could finally open my eyes, everything would come to normal. After 5-6 times, I was really scared. Now suddenly I believed something or someone is trying to hurt me. It is a bright room because of the street lights and I tried not to get scared and believe in supernatural elements, but I could not that day. So I went like a baby to my grandmother’s room. She was sound asleep but she woke up when I called her. “AAMA”, I asked her, Can I sleep in the grandpa’s bed? Something frightened me in that room so bad that I can’t even close my eyes.” She said – ‘sometime happens, they try to scare you, you need to put some metal underneath your pillow’. And she could interpret the dreams in a very interesting way. Since I woke her up, we started talking but nothing about ghosts. Just about life. I asked her to tell me about her life, what was life like 80 years ago, what was her fondest memory of my grandfather etc… She told me few stories. And I fell asleep.

Now all the amazing life story of her will be non-credited and ridiculed. A tremendous life of labor, service, passion, love and faith will just be shadowed by her unfortunate death. I can only point to other people of her bed and couple of my teenage pictures she put above her pillow. She asked me to leave with her picture of mine so she can frame and update her gallery. A soul of love and simplicity. She never quarreled, never took any grudges, never felt angry or sad, never complained about life’s sufferings. For me she was like an idol, a copy of God, she was forever the same, never interrupted by highs and lows of life, just always the same plain, happy and positive person.

This universe runs in a system and we are a part of this system. We are nothing; I believe more than ever, that all our fates are predestined. We can’t improve it, we can’t destroy it. I don’t know how it works, but it is does. We are not controlling anything. We just are victims, helpless, clueless, confused herd of animals trying to satisfy our urges, either of hunger, or of thirst, or of money, sex, greed or of ego. No one can change or even claim to know our fate. I have talked with my grandmother thousands of time about deaths, and suicides, and we always agreed why it can never be the right way. I never even thought about it in my confusing dreams. What is done, can never be undone. We are probably all responsible of our own actions, may be our actions of the past influence our future, and may be future lives, who knows? No one can prove or disprove either side of this argument. Close to three decades, and my father’s 5 decades were spent with my grandmother and in her tender loving and happy personality. We did everything we could to pay back, and love back. As much sorrow strikes my father, I am weeping for both my grandmother and father’s misfortunes. It is a great loss. My mountain is drowned by flood of this horror. My spirit is troubled thinking about her soul. May be the modern medicine is to blame for tragic and fatal side effects, may be it was supposed to happen this way, we will never know. It will be mystery, a sad mystery, a fact that I would want to forget about the rest of my life and think about all the good memories of my grandmother, who I called AAMA, just a mother. I life my spirit up and drink from this cup of sorrow of bitter truth till I die.

01-15-2013

Irving, Texas

New Year Resolution

2013-01-01T19:14:00.004-06:00

Every New Year, we make resolutions and at the end of the year we find ourselves not sticking to it even once. Life suffers in the business of the mundane things and these greater thoughts of resolutions and dreams keep sliding by. We postpone things and make new plans. Like the great “lizard story”, we only remember it on the New Year day. Then we fall into regrets and more dreaming about wishful “what if” scenarios. Ravan was about to build a staircase that would connect heaven and earth but he kept postponing, and he said tomorrow, I will start. But tomorrow never came. His death came. And he has to transfer this great wisdom to his enemy while breathing his last breaths.

My life’s ironic fact is that I have OCD over things getting done. I want things done, as soon as I come to know I gotta do something, I do things all ahead of time, calculated, well thought out and planned. But the results do not follow the work. I end up last most of the time. I plant the fruit and never get to reap the fruit. Universe is kind of ironic.

With New Year comes, new joy and optimism and hope and Resolutions. I, however think that even a false hope is better than pessimistic self-pity, and regrets in life.

I have no resolution. I just play a little part in a big universe. Most of the things are beyond my control. Although I look like a player, I am just a puppet. Moreover, I won’t do anything different that is against my morals and ethics and values etc. The things I needed to do are well done, I just hope that somehow luck strikes me by mistake, once in life. I can only reconsider the situations, reevaluate my ethics and values, and do my best. At the end of the year, I just clear my soul and transfer all the blame to God. If things happens- God is great, if not God really didn’t want it for me. I have no regrets.

01/01/2013

Irving, Texas

8 O' Clock

2012-09-11T19:50:00.003-05:00

Housman wrote most of his poems almost a century ago. He was a late booming scholar and a poet. Even publisher didn’t publish his poems early in his career. In his own expense he wrote and published some good poems. He became renowned poet after few years. Just like his popularity, it took me years to convine myself that his poem ‘8 O’ Clock’ was worth a mention. It is not an average poem as it may look at first.

I read this poem first in one of the English class in RR college in Nepal. It took me few years to like it. Only a thirsty man knows the value of water. I had to experience the time to finally understand it. Experience offers a total difference, give rise to absolute wisdom to human beings. Experience changes a carpenter to Christ, a prodigal prince to Buddha, a lazy wife-abused guy to Socrates and an average Joe to ‘Sidhhartha’. And verily, all these experiences are measured in real time. Real time in the sense that: there is no before and after, past or future. The understanding of truth cannot be derived from imagination and its by products, it is the absolute study of reality. Anything created by mind is suspicious and its not absolute real.

Time is a very tricky subject and everything in this world is governed by time. Out of this world, of fantasy or spirituality, of dreams, of heaven, of God… whatever people may call, they want to describe their imagination/conviction/belief/aspiration/salvation as ‘beyond time and space’. I have tried to grasp that concept for a decade now, and yet, I have no good reason to believe such thing. I can’t simply comprehend it. People using phrases such as ‘beyond time and space’ are either stupid or fraud or phony like Indian guru who uses terms like ‘Nirbikalpa Samadhi’ or ‘mindless mind’ or ‘seventh sense’.

Without time, and without its concepts, nothing exists. Time is ultimate reality. Time is unstoppable and inevitable. ‘Before’ and ‘after’ are insignificant worlds when used with ‘time’. A bird know when its morning, a poet writes when birds start chirping, a lover knows the value of a pitch dark night, a poor soul knows when to cry for God. Only essential truth about time is: time means different things to different people and everything except time itself, give significance to time, counts the clock, and stories it with magnificence and glory.

A man strapped and noosed, standing on the platform, welcomes a morning, hears the bird chirps listens to the bell ring in the clock tower by the church, and curse his luck, wished he was not born, perhaps makes his last stand with God, because it is not the same morning for him as for the many wandering in the market that day. One, Two, Three… Tick… Tick… Tick…he counts. For him, every second tightens the rope around his neck; every tick… tick …counts his last breath. It is 8 O’ Clock, his execution hour. Clock struck 8 O’ Clock. It is inevitable. It is the destiny.

Have we not noticed that when we are waiting for someone, a minute seems like a century? In pain and agony, second seems like an era? Just in contrast, if we have pleasure we don’t notice decades go by whistling. It is our experience that defines time, not the other way around. However, it seems to us that sometimes time comes unexpected, it strikes bell prematurely. But if we are ripe enough, we can pluck the fruit of sweetness of time and enjoy the bliss. Then ‘8 0’ Clock’ would means a completely different. Acceptance of destiny makes us ripe and wise and healthy and it negates all possible adversities of the coming days.

September 11, 2012

US, Home and Sabari

2012-09-09T15:31:00.000-05:00

When I was kid, we had a chapter in our course book 'Ghar Chhodne Raat'. The little guy is leaving home for school or something to a different city. He is trying to sleep but he can't. Then the monologue begins. He talks and argues with himself. That is having butterfly in the stomach, uneasy experience of anxiety and restless syndromes. During my final days in Nepal, all family members became sad and I became sad. Is it not strange that in our culture we cry when people leave home to go somewhere either for school or in marriage or just for visiting. I had never left home. I did my schooling and attended college from home. I had never been out and I hated going to relatives to spend the holidays. Women were not even allowed in airport to say Good bye on my departure day because they would make a dramatic crying scene. Even men cry when they say good bye. 'Good bye'ing is sad and melancholic. Leaving home is too.

Asian culture is very distinct in people loving their homes, relatives, even animals too deeply sometime. I remember of my room and my bed, of my old book shelf and outdated books therein. I miss it. My room was also a sitting room. Guest would come and see all the medals hanging on the wall and ask my parents 'hey is your babu in Army?" What good those medals do when in need? Poverty is the biggest disease of all. That is my sermon, I declare. The smell of poverty is horrible. In fact, our culture is strange. We like to portray ourselves as poor, sorry people. We save money, and live a life of insufficiency. We buy land and houses but we eat and dress poor. And we quote Devkota " Garib bhanchhau tara sukhako ma jhai dhani...". In contrary, happiness is very essential for a good life.

To Devkota and all his quoters , I tell you my sermon: poverty and happiness does not blend that well, I assure you. Living with 'sukha' in poverty is not easy but not impossible either. I was grown up in the old school philosophy of saving for children and calling yourself poor which would be continued through generations. That is probably why I can survive in extremity with their ideology deep somewhere in my subconscious, rather than I live by my own philosophy. I live in bed bug infected cheap apartment, still sleep on the floor, I drive 88 Buick Century and I don't have excessive clothes although I can afford most of all the decent luxury there is. My upbringing has made me flexible and grateful. For people in Nepal, they probably picture me living in 100th suite of then' world trade center.

I have a different home. It feels like home here now. My heart is here not because of the luxury but because of homely circumstances of ease, to enjoy freedom from commune burdens, freedom to express myself, to overcome new challenges, to run away from terrorist and gangsters in Nepal. It has a profound meaning to say that I am going home. I don't really know of I am leaving home or going home. And the night before the leaving, I ask myself, self-evaluate my decisions, look back at hard days and say- 'well, that was not so bad'. Surely God help those who help themselves. At least there are no more surprises in my GOD's department. But I will have many surprises when I go back. Needless to say, many are waiting not for me but for gifts of I-macs , IPhones, cameras which I do not own myself. There will be people who will make commenting on my "fatness" and receding hair, often asking if I have a foreign wife yet? Why I didn't bring my white wife with me', It is really funny. Perhaps not because when I came I was probably the first one to leave home for US in that town and now each family in the neighborhood has at least a son in US, UK, Australia and Europe. I am not so fond of neighbors who intrude my privacy and nosy friends who want to know how much I make, over there. I really miss my grandmother who teaches me indifference. She is old, and tired and only her wish is to die peacefully. But even she, once in a while wants to see me married with a white girl. She is lovely, like a newborn, truly innocent.

I think of a woman who used to come to our home, almost every day. They call her 'Sabari' after Ramayan. Sabari was an uneducated, low-caste women who tasted the fruit before she feed to Lord Ram, a symbol for love and devotion. All the lower caste people were not allowed and my family did not even let them touch our house but because of her devotion and spirituality, I guess she was authorized and could come up to our 'Baranda'. I could not possibly invite her inside or even touch her. A poor soul... I loved her and had pity on her. She was poor. We gave her food and money sometime. She would come and ask for me, and ask how I am doing. I believe her humility, love, devotion and caring was not just from her conscious self itself but perhaps from the abject poverty and rejection she was living in. Although I felt worse that I could not go against the prevailing rule, culture and system of the society to hug and invite her inside, I prayed that this stupid, arrogance, superiority of one men over another, class and caste system, poverty, and shame and of guilt of being born in low caste should disappear from the face of the world. I prayed every day that although I had no say, no power, no authority to enforce or even speak against such sins of human, sooner or later, time will change everything and all injustice and stupidity as such will go away from my home and country. I feel sad. There is poverty and there are blind beliefs, superstitions, dark heritages, funny rituals and brainwashed people. When mixed together, it makes a worst of poison to destroy humanity. I hope Sabari is still alive and visits our home often.

Home! I am coming.

America's Summary to Grandma

2012-09-09T13:05:00.002-05:00

Apart from this annoying Paralympics, Obama's 'HOPE' oratory and stupid Harry's Lag Vegas trip, few things are going exciting in my world now. I have hope of myself and I am going home. It has been a good run. It gave me good fight and I survived. USA gave me psychological, cultural, religious, philosophical struggles of life. One thing I can confirm to those in Nepal and all other third world countries: there are no 'MONEY GROWING TREES" in USA, no not one, not at all. It is very depressing country. It has lost its color and it is like women in nice bikini;. just showy, of promises of opportunities, blings, lights, very surface coated, mediocre; inside there is nothing exciting. It is home of depression, crime and broken hopes. My grandma will ask me to summarize US and of my 7-8 years of stay.

Here it goes Granny:

Culture is awkward. People like Bush became President for 8 years. The highest of stupid and incapable fool. Black people think white men owe them something so they dress typical, speak their own Ebonics or something, like to stay on food stamps and other assistance forever and ever and now and then, rob convenience store and kill a Nepali guy working in there. White guys think they are really superior, God's chosen race and although in books blacks are freed, in whites people heart Black are still stupid niggers, who are fools, no good monkeys, just fit to be lynched once in a while.

Now in few years, white people will be wiped out because of their birth rate and Indian people will cover this land. Not the fake Indians, the real mustachioed Indians from Hindustan. They are everywhere. Was it Asoka who went to Nepal and said," There are more temples in Nepal than houses and more Gods than people"? I have a new statement "In US, there are more Indians than whites, and they reproduce like rabbits and there will be better mustaches than America's idol Wild Bill."

Talking about tradition and history. Nepalese like to be proud be the nation of Mt Everest, Prithivi Narayan who united the nation, Gautam, the Buddha who taught about peace, and of Gurkhas who showed world about their courage and bravery. Americans have no good history. Yet they are one proud country. A country ruled by slave owner, who wanted freedom from British and colonies, yet want to keep some 'niggas' in the house. They killed fierce kind of Indians and brought funny ones. They idolize, not just idolize, they worship people like Wild Bill and Jesse James, Wyatt Brother. They preserve their statues, and grave and like temple and churches announce that it is their heritage which should be turned into tourist sites like OK CORAL. And they have, trust me. To clarify grandma, the people I mentioned were ugly cowboys who raped, murdered, stole horses, robbed banks, and later became town sheriff or marshal etc.

Education: system is good. But except few smart people up there somewhere, they are dumb as donkeys. That's why Indians are running America's IT and Chinese are making their robots, all Philippines are Nursing the country, and Jews owns all of America. Students will grow old and die but their student loans will never be paid. Peoples' average education is high school diploma.

Health Care: You get sick one time, the cost afterwards will give a heart attack. All the wealth in you and your relatives can't even pay a quarter of that bill. It is ridiculous. It is just pathetically sorry.

Religion and Churches: As expected, it has not been the house of God, it is house of all the perverts, extremists, fundamentalists, brainwashed, rapers'. White churches rape and sodomize kids. Black churches rape and sodomize neighbor's wife. Usually the pastor, leader, headman are the ones doing it. They sometimes can marry 20 and keep them as wife sisters. They smile fake and when you question them, their humility goes astray. Yet they go to all the nations to convert. Converting comes with sodomizing and raping the foreigners. How wonderful?

Security, Police : Many of them still think they are decendents of Wild Bill. Place for racism to act. White cops will beat the life out of black if opportunity prevails. Crime is everywhere. There are overcrowded prisons. And you know what the prisoners have something called 'Conjugal Visit' which I will not explain to you because of shame. Sometimes, I see at my works some girls are so desperate to offer themselves as conjugal mate, they look on internet to see the prison criminal database. That brings me to SEX and culture.

Sex and Culture: Sex is easy like buying candy at store. No sexual morality at all. If they want it, they will have it, in whichever way they like. People get pregnant at 10. Country is full of insets, sexual perversion. There are more sexual perverts and child molesters than anywhere in the world. Marriage for them is like a doll play. They marry when they like and they divorce when they like. 80% who marry divorce and 85% of them who remarry get divorce again. The step sons and step daughters sometimes do not know how many steps their parents are into by now. They even have something called "sex industry", I don't want to explain that to you.

I have more topics to go on but I don't want to sound like the jackal of 'jackal and grape story.' The most interesting and amusing thing in midst of all this, contrary to what you would think, America still attracts me. It offers something that no one anywhere offers. That's the secret. It offers freedom and hope which are like, I said earlier Women's bikini, and a curtain of uncertainty, suspense, a holy secret but when it opens there is not much to be grin about.

A Poem Worth Remembering

2012-08-26T00:38:00.002-05:00

Early years in USA, I used to write too many emails to cousins, friends and families. Soon sentences got shorter, family and relatives got bitter because they thought I was giving them some attitude.

But my amusement days were gone; things lost the natural factors of surprise and enthusiasm. Today I had a major wrap up cleaning ceremony through my old stuffs. While cleaning up, I saw few emails and letters that I wrote to one of my cousin....Excerpts goes like this:

A bottle of Pepsi cost $1.5 here, people say ‘hi’, ‘hello’, and ‘thank you’ without reasons, and they call hand holding 'gay'....

It was June 2005, Waverly, Iowa. It was after rain and I was outside the dorm watching birds and squirrel settle back afterwards, in their homes. I had left home few weeks back too, trying to settle in US. It was a new beginning. To philosophize, I would say, every second is a beginning of a new thing. Everything, old or new is a beginning of some kind. Present is past's future. That summarizes everything. Everything is afresh. Everything is new and energy. We get lost in the sense of time. Our senses play tricks. These tricks are pretty powerful and almost impossible to be conscious about at most times.

May 2005, my cousin Sudarsan Dai and I were sitting by the balcony and enjoying our super.

"Now you really won't be here at the end of this summer huh?' he said.

"It looks like it" I said.

He was partly happy, partly disappointed. He was worried about his 2nd and 3rd year, English and Nepali Paper.

'I wish you well, success and good health and write to me, write like we talk every day here and every night. Keep writing. Keep reading. And send me when you write something, we will publish your books" he said.

I was scared, nervous and extremely excited to have finally got my Visa after the Embassy people gave me hard time. I can still feel the heartbeat of those days. A sense of begging, and of struggle and of dreams. I remember the day that I walk from the Embassy to my home, barefoot, mid-summer; there was traffic strike that day. We walked and talked until home. We were tired and pitied our cursed destiny to be born in a poor country which ran by the grace of Americans and Indians. When home, I remember the high pitch yelling of two little neighbor kids, a brother and a sister. The brother was little but mischievous, and the sister would beat him to weeping. And their mother would scold them both. But when those kids saw us in our balcony, from their balcony, they would be embarrassed and hide quickly.

Our tenant Pradip and Shambu, both from Chaudhari caste, would be intimidated when we call them fisherman or jackal killer or Chaudhari's sons. It was just stereotypical jokes we made for fun, nothing racial. My cousin always told Shambu that one day, when he becomes the prime minister, he would appoint Shambhu his driver, a high paid one. And Shambhu mostly shrugged off but he could not totally negate the possibility of Sudarshan dai being Prime Minister one day, so Shambhu would be careful talking to him.

Shambhu and Padip, I heard are in Arab somewhere. I do not know how those quarreling kids grew up, probably in college, still fighting. Same night, my cousin and I were talking at night, listening to some FM. Some literature program...

Natikaji had died same day. The DJ of the FM said “I tried to contact Fatteman to comment on Natikaji's death but he already slept." In Nepali his exact words were ‘Natikajiko barema sodhna maile Fatteman lai phone gareko thiye, uha sutisaknu bhayechha...” The DJ had bad presentation style and choice of words... amateur, unprofessional, kind of funny.

My Cousin said- 'Oh Pity! Fatteman thought his best friend died so he drank some wine and slept in melancholy.'

I kept laughing for a while. I remember the exact words although we were almost asleep ourselves. Many years have passed but the memory is fresh. The summer memory in Nepal... I have lost significant years, but I am new and fresh and something inside me has never become old, never got tired, and never became sad. Yeah 7-8 years is a long time, I reckon. I missed a lot of things; lost time, lost appetite to be righteous, and no surprise-- lost hair growing interest, thanks to balding head. I quit some dreams, I made some unnecessary friends and I broke relationship with some best of friends. I have lost most of my identity but my essence is same, fresh, anew, innocent, eager, awaiting, moving, accepting, flowing in the time's direction, yet just living in the present worldly, mostly depressingly, in unnecessary struggles, unfavorable and unpleasant exchanges, in deep contradiction to my own beliefs and against my own soul’s true voice, in silence, and sometimes in indifference towards the ‘Dream Prospects’ I had of USA and of my life itself.

A poem I send him in 2005, when UNICODE didn’t exist and I had to type it all English font. I could not publish a book but heard from same cousin today that my father got his book publish and released. Well, I think he got motivation from me, though he will probably deny it. He used to ready my diaries poems and stories, that I mostly hide under my bed at home and he enjoyed it. I was shy.

An old poem here now in fresh reckoning…. I wrote it, my cousin printed his email and translated in Nepali. I saw it today and thought- Oh okay, I knew that feeling. It will always be the same. I will never forget.

http://www.facebook.com/notes/bharat-mani/a-poem-worth-remembering/10151397863278782

8/25/2012

Irving Texas

Sleeplessness, Movies and Stories

2012-08-12T23:39:00.002-05:00

I am sleepless that is why I am writing. I enjoy it. As simple as that. No grand design, no dreams, no agenda. This is what I do, and I do when I like. It is addictive. It is not serious for now but in future, may be when I really want, and when it really matters and has value, I have plenty of manuscripts. Novels, stories, poems, essays… When something will be written, it will be serious, it will be the day. For now, it is just ‘works in progress. It is my own writing’s self-potency check, just an unprofessional one. It is like English 101 scratch, something different that it has is- its rough like a never ploughed land, no editions, no readers, no propagandas, no peer reviews, no paraphrasings, no stupid rules, no political correctness, no fear of priests, no obligation to fulfill parent’s dreams, no intention to hurt fundamentalists, no hidden ambitions. It is just me. I am it. I am writing myself.

The Olympic is over. I don’t care for it anyway. There are some funny games. Few games are ridiculous. And believe it or not, in years to come, we will find out that most of the athlete there were involved were on steroid, or got some hip injection or some other drugs. Nevertheless Olympics is a sporting event alright. Greek can have some odd sense in having fun sometime but they became the foremost scientist to create such an entertaining event. They did this to please their God Zeus. Later many countries joined and now it is an international event. Peoples’ emotion run high. And America is now proud that it stands on top of the medal table, also winning women gold in soccer. Only for national pride and medal tally, but not anything else would be Americans that interested in soccer otherwise.

The hailstorm ruined my Sunday soccer fun. Watched a lot of movies this weekend although I was busy reading some stuff. I have loved some of the movies and sometime even a movie can influence person’s life. Not that it has done mine, but I enjoyed watching movies. In 90s I watched each and every Hindi movie that was made. Soon I started getting annoyed. Those days are gone, and I don’t have that much patience and time anymore. English movies are usually short and to the point. It is direct. Back in 90s I remember Hindi movies were very cautious in showing skin, or kisses on screen. People would burn the cinema hall if they see any ‘heroine’ lip-locking any ‘hero’. It was a big deal. People idolize these idiots inasmuch as that they would copy their hairstyle, clothes, speeches etc. They even made statue, they worship the celebrities. General public touch their dirty feet, still now.

Sex was taboo in movies. If they had to show two lovers kiss, they would come close and some sunflower would appear in front of the camera and cover the kissing couple up. Film director could not show skin or sex or anything for that matter. In each and every movie, there would be a ‘RAPE SCENE’ where a villain would rape a protagonist’s beloved sister. The audience would get glimpse of some chest, thighs, and funny screams of the actresses. People enjoyed and craved for it. For many Indian public, Mithun was the best actor ever. Mostly Indian but sometimes a Madhesi Nepali would rent some old time Mithun movies and feels content, when in the movie; he takes revenge of his sister’s rape and kills all the antagonists. Indian court never gave justices in these movies. This was story in each and every movies made at that time, believe it or not. Slight changes but those were the themes. But now Indian cinemas have changed. They show everything; sometime they are worse than Hollywood movies. I bet many Nepalese have seen the poster of ‘Raat ki Rani’, ‘Pyasi Jawani’ in some dark street, ‘bad hoods’ and some open cities in Bhaktapur and Kathmandu. I really wondered what they were. It was probably the most skin showing movies of that time, I am not sure. It definitely looked tempting and curious for teen agers and old perverts who would pay lots of money to watch someone get raped in a movie. It was underground business as far as I remember.

With the emergence of disco restaurants, cabin bars etc. sex came out of its taboo status. I have no idea how Nepalese film are nowadays. They had terrible actors, bad acting, worse directors, child raping producers, and no good stories. I have no idea as I have stopped seeing any Nepalese and Indian movies at all. Sometimes one or two movies were made that made some impression on me. Sometime a novel is converted to a movie by a literature loving guy. I watch it. I want to see those movies more often. My reading is often eased by the movies, from visual and audial displays on screen. On the other hand, the imagination when reading a book is so addictive and ecstatic that sometime a movie based on a novel can completely destroy it. I have become lazy and sometime I listen to audio books so that I don’t have to read, mostly when I am tired. Although I appreciate the technology and efficiency, listening audio book is not as amazing intelligently experience-wise. Reading, revising, stopping, and reading again the lines and paragraphs of the books, the actual prints where you turn over the page and remember of another character in another book is not as smooth in audio books. Again audio book readers don’t read as fast in places as I read and don’t skip anything as I do if I am scanning. I do not much enjoy the audio books. I like movies sometime based on novel but then again all movies based on novel are not that good. Just for the sake of it, I watched ‘Old Man and The Sea’ and ‘Animal Farm’ recently to freshen up memories. They are not as good when you read and develop a connection. I am more a reader than a listener of a reader.

Sudarshan dai was a good listener. I often read, explained, and criticized many of my course book stories and poems, and his and sometime an odd, difficult book like ‘Thus Spake Zarathrusta’. My friend Nirmal was a good listener but he could think about stories differently too. I told him about many stories I read. Well, not everyone is Aesop but I loved the old school course book where we studied about Aesop’s fables and thought myself of being one day. The intelligence and mediocre stories, yet very popular and daily moral stories of ‘Thousand and One Nights’ or ‘Arabian Nights’ are still fresh in my mind. My favorite was ‘Fox and The Sour Grape’. Who does not know the story? Human psychology is just fox-like.

Irving Texas

8/12/2012