Chaos in Silence

There is a certain turmoil in my heart. It’s beating, I’m living but I really do not know what for. What is the purpose of my life? I ask myself and the only answer that I get is the loud screams of the silence that surrounds me. It wails at me, it mocks me and it makes me cry. It gains strength in and through my weakness.
Silence, such a bliss when you want to get away from all the noise. But where do you escape to when silence becomes a voice so loud that you can barely hear anything else, let alone your own thoughts. At first it was a good thing to be lost in silence. Hear nothing. See nothing. Feel nothing. Say nothing. Nothing but Silence and me, a bond that formed over time. When there was no one I could turn to, she was there, patiently listening to me every miserable & distressing story. I found solace in her and since less and less people turn towards her these days, It seems like she too; just had me. I needed her she wanted me and like every relationship she wanted me to come to her more often. Now I’m afraid that if I leave her I will be crippled. Can something like that really happen?
Now that our friendship has been forged all I can hear is her silence but in her calmness hides chaos and mayhem that only I have heard. I want to leave it all behind and hear my thoughts, feel new emotions, touch new horizons but the thought of leaving my old friend is pretty upsetting.
I have to leave you my friend, my foe. You were there for me in the darkest of days. It’s not that I don’t need you now; it’s just that I need to learn to be without you. I will off course come back to you, to visit you, to talk you. And since you have made me stronger; this time I will listen to you for a change. I want to hear all the untold stories that others have shared with you. I know the agony of bearing a secret. Let it all out my friend and then we both grow together and finally hear the music. Music that fills our souls with melody and a desire to seek and love and dare. Until then my dear friend!

Finding Haven in the Washroom

Last week I was watching a 1000 ways to die. And one of it undoubtedly was death by a FART! I know I am laughing at the cost of someone’s demise but I can’t really help it. Hey don’t judge me; I know you are laughing too. So there is this guy who trains people for a fart competition held somewhere. He starts mentoring an exchange student from China. He feeds him with food that can produce the loudest fart. Then the ingenious master stands behind his student lights a torch and asks him to fart. The student sure enough; farts and sets his master on fire. LOL. Sad but you can’t really deny me when I say that it is funny.
So while at work yesterday, my friend and I went to the washroom. While I still have time let me describe our washroom to you. We have those plastic divider that run only 3/4th of the way and may I add they are very non-sound proof. There we were in the washroom doing our business when there was this sound of footsteps. From the sound of it it sounded like she needed to go bad. She swings the door and lets herself in. Let me interrupt you here and tell you that I am recounting all of this merely through the power of hearing, so you’ll have to give me some credit for it. Then she unbuttons her pants, I can tell that from the clinging sound of her belt and then all of a sudden a loud fart!! Let me try my best to describe how it sounded. It sounded like phoof, like it had been suppressed for quite some time, like when you are sitting and tilt ever so slightly to let the air pass but the best way to describe it is to say that it sounded like she wanted to fart real bad. My instantaneous reaction? Ewwwwwwwwwww… I mean it just blurted out. I had no intention of embarrassing the poor thing. When we were washing hands we were toiling around and taking her time, she never came out. Obviously! Poor thing.
I am just glad that I was not holding a light then! And I’m glad as hell that it was is no way aromatic. :D
Here are a few fart sites:
http://www.fartblog.com/
http://fartbarker.blogspot.com/

Democracy to the Hilt?

So there I was sitting in my over stuffed bus on the way home from work. I don’t know whether I’ve told you but where we are located right now is a huge township and it’s still under construction. Maybe 10% is completed. The entire place is crisscrossed with re-bars and concrete. Anyways since there are wide open spaces that are waiting for the construction to begin, guess what, it looks as though the laborers have found a way of utilizing them.
So where was I? Oh! Yeah I was on my way from on the bus. As I was staring at the picturesque sun far away setting down, it looked as if it was going down in a blaze of glory. The color was crimson, red, pink and all colors imaginable married from the family of pink and red. I was thinking of taking a nice long shower and the yummy dinner I was going to make when my dream was interrupted by a rather disturbing and unpleasant site.
There was this man standing in the middle of a wide open space and PEEING! Yes you hear me right, Peeing. Of all the places, that was the only space he found to pee. I was telling my friend Harsha that there is going to be a house there pretty soon, so he’s probably laying down the foundation, jokingly off course. I was like he can at least seek the shade of some tree or face a wall. But this act was a blatant display of his democratic rights, I think. Or come to think of it maybe he just needed to go bad. Whatever it is, men in India seriously need to rethink this whole peeing in the public status. It’s so not cool! I leave you with a joke that my friend once told me:
The idea of democracy in the USA is: To be able to kiss in public
The idea of democracy in India is: To be able to pee in public.
I choose kiss any day. What would you choose?
Check this out

Proud to Know Prabal Gurung

Well I don’t know him personally but I guess just knowing that a fellow Nepali has made it so big does make oneself swell with pride. Honestly I had not heard of him until my dear Shreya told me about him. Prabal was Born in Singapore and raised in Kathmandu, Nepal. He later started studying in India’s National Institute of Fashion Management and interned at various production and fashion houses. Having travelled the expanse of Australia to London he has acquired a truly universal and global sense of fashion. It’s a small wonder that we including the elite class of the west are flocking to him.
Finally he settled with New York and started interning with Donna Karen while studying at Parson’s School of Design. AT the annual Parson’s /FIT design competition he was awarded the “Best Designer”. After finishing at Parson’s he worked with Cynthia Rowley and gained much knowledge. After that he was working as the Director at Bill Blass for five years. Finally (Thank God!) he left Bill Blass to venture out on his own, as a designer. He launched his own collection called Prabal Gurung.
Having been a person of humble beginnings the heights that he has already scaled are worthy of an applaud. His clients list include Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey, Demi More, Zoe Saldana and more.
I am in total awe of this person and personally for me, he has become an idol. Because there are not many from the Nepali Community that tread in this untrodden road. Since I too have this love of fashion, I wanna make it big too. There may be a difference in writing about fashion and making fashion but if the passion is there, and then I believe I can create magic every time I pick up my pen.
So here is to our fellow Nepalese, to parents, to globalization, to passion, to friends. Cheers!

Damn Darjeeling is in India. (Gasp)

Here is the place I call home. And I refuse to call it anything else but DARJEELING.

Sad to say but we as Nepalese here in India have to suffer quite regularly. We are often looked down on and some people have this predetermined idea that all Nepalese belong to the loose bandwagon. It hurts and sometimes infuriates me when people ask where I am from and when I reply from “Darjeeling”. Then they ask a question and answer themselves “Where are you from? From Nepal?” There is a question and a statement all at once, which as an English Major student is not only wrong from all angles but such a disgrace really. Disgrace to the Indian education system. Don’t you know where Darjeeling is? Didn’t you study about Darjeeling in your Geography classes? Don’t you know what Darjeeling is famous for? Hell, don’t you know where Darjeeling is. I mean really it’s really frustrating. And when I tell them that it is West Bengal, they question my intelligence by asking “Are you sure?” When I hear that all I want to do is give them a big slap across their ignorant face.
Well, no offense but that was the only title that I could think about, at the risk of sounding racist. A little bit of information about me: I have an Indian Passport. :D
I have one petition: If not geography of the entire world, at least learn about your own country.
Here is a little preview about Darjeeling. It was previously called Dorje ling. Darjeeling is a quaint little town in West Bengal at an elevation of approximately 6,710 ft. Since I grew up in this beautiful town, the best thing about it is that almost every house has a view of the Himalayan Range. You will never know how it feels to wake up early in the morning, open the window and see the formidable yet picturesque Himalayas right before you.
It’s known for its superior quality tea. Its mountain is dotted with tea bushes everywhere you go. And to escape the innumerable tea stalls is almost impossible. The there is the Darjeeling Toy train which has been declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. There are various places to visit, there are various flavors to taste and there are various colors to see. Recently though my beautiful hometown has been torn apart for the want of Gorkhaland. Last time I went home I felt like its lost its charm, what with so many deaths and strikes, however it’s not lost its soul. The people are still happy go lucky, their hearts are still bigger than their bank balance and the bank balance is but a number for them. They still take pleasure in sitting in Chowrasta and sipping on the cheapest tea and coffee available. This is the land I call home. And yes it’s very much in India. I Be Proud. You Be Proud.

Pain without Pain Killers

P.S : Before you start I would like to say that this not for the “ewww-hearted”.. lol
I am not all that good with time but the pimples that come to visit me ever so often these days are always right on time for big and important events. So I get up on a Thursday morning and I see a little and comfortably avoidable pocket of puss on the left side of my face, right next to my nose. And I have the urge to push it out of my face, after all I want to look pretty even if I’m at home and the only person to see me up close is my boyfriend. Well then, getting back to the point I flushed out the puss and all that remained was a small red patch, which I thought would somehow melt into and with my wheat complexion and then later I would just have to use a tad bit of a concealer. My awesome plan would have worked had the pimple on my face been a pimple. It turned out that it actually is a boil!
So day one turned into day two with the boil becoming a little bit bigger and redder. All hell broke lose when I had to travel in an overnight bus with the boil burning my face and the cold that had caught on with me. I was feeling feverish and my joints where aching and we were traveling to Goa for my boyfriend’s granny’s funeral on the last sear, which only made things worse because when you are in India you will prefer anywhere but the last seat, given the road conditions, if you know what I mean. We reached the next day and I was feeling like I was a 100 years. The boil on my face had off course become bigger overnight. It was hot and humid and I was carrying a large boil and it was causing the left side of face to swell up. Argh!!!!
The very same day we had to make a trip back to Pune, where I stay because of my boyfriend’s exams. So there we were again traveling by bus on the last seat, with my boil and my cold and my aches. By the time we got back it had managed to grow bigger without any help and my face resembled humpty Dumpty’s. And FYI I’m of an oriental origin aka “chinky” and with the swelling taking over my face my eyes where becoming smaller and smaller (read : chinkier and chinkier) The next day i finally went to the see the doc and decided to ask her for a medicine that would dry up the boil. She told me to lay down and the next thing I knew was that she was pinching the boil to get the puss out and all the while like a brave girl I did not even flinch. Not because Im brave but because I was paralyzed with the pain and I was sweating profusely. The nurse dressed the remains of the boil and the doc prescribed some meds. I thought that this was the end of my agony only to get up today in the morning that the swelling is still there and the boil is very much there. Its been five days and I know that there are more painful days ahead, but I’m not gonna give up to the pain. 5 days without a painkiller and I’m gonna make it without one, no matter how long it takes. Say no to Pain Killers.

An Ode to my EX… (Whatever!!!)

I have this person as a blessing in disguise. He’s good. He’s bad. He’s my best friend. He’s my worst enemy. He overflows me with his love. He deprives me of my right to be loved. He wipes away my tears. He makes me cry rivers of tears. He is the builder of my foundation so strong. He is the destroyer of what I have achieved. He is my strength. He is my weakness. He loves me. He hates me. He criticizes me. He adores me. He is close to me, yet, he is furtherst from me. He is sometimes a total Jack@#$. But all along he is my sweetheart. In short he’s my sunshine, he’s my happiness. He is quintessential in my life. The mere existence of him in my life has left me more mature, more understanding, more humble and more loved. His presence still gives me strength to face the world here alone on my own so far away from home. He filled me with kindness, knowledge and attitude. He taught me “seek and you shall find”, “knock and the door shall be opened”. He’s the pothole that was the reason for my downfall. He’s ma staff and crutch when i am crippled. He is the reason for ma tears and anger. He is the reason for the smile and the grin on my face. He aint no superman with super-human powers and neither can he fly, but I can live without it because he is definitely my one and only HIGHWAY MAN!!!
All this for a guy who practically walked all over me and then trampled me over some bitch he was seeing before me. Hence you guys can understand why I hate the word Ex, so much.. I wrote the above after I broke up with the guy. But you know on second thought I think something else.
There have been times that I believe that I have been touched by true love. That people have truly loved me. I know that for sure. Like that guy who said that he liked me since we were in kindergarten and finally proposed when I was 19. Who cried insistently like a little child when I said that I can’t see myself with him, though I had a major crush on him. Like my first guy who said that he loved me. Who practically stalked me for three years and then he finally treated me like I was some old cloth on the hanger in his closet. Yes, I know he loved me too. Like the last guy who I was in love with. Who I thought was the answer to my prayers. Even though he cheated on me, even though he asked me to marry him and didn’t even remember about it the next day, I believe he loved me too. And so did all the road side Romeos who have declared their love for me, which left more terrified and disgusted rather than ready to accept their proposals. I have always firmly believed that I have been a scapegoat for them, a toy, and an object for their amusement. Now i know better, I now believe that they have truly loved me. Even it be for one fleeting second or a nano second. Now whether they loved me for that precise second or for eternity, all that matters is that they did love me, or rather it does not matter anymore. All the while I was blaming them for the pain and misery only to realize that all the pain was because of me. I believed in fairytales. I believed in Prince Charming. I believed in Happily Ever After. I believed that love happens only once. I believed that love only touches us once.
Like before I am in love once again. I don’t have much to say about him. When I think about him I do not feel like jotting down a poem or something like that. Maybe it’s just because its love in reality not the fairytale that I was trying to create. I understand now why my previous fairytales never lasted. It was because I wanted it to work the way I wanted it to. Now it’s different because I don’t have to work so hard to make it into a fairytale. It is not but the reality of it all makes it so magical and so much more believable and so much more humane. He is my sunshine. He brings a smile on my face. He is my rainbow. My love story has not been great. It’s not exactly a material for an epic love story n neither will it go down in history considering how we met. All that matters is that love is there without pretenses, with humility, without expectations, with commitment, without EXs and with love.

Cleanliness is next to Godliness — NOT!!!

I started seeing my now boyfriend about 27 months ago. Now you might be wondering why Im talking about my relationship, but trust me you will get it a little later. So, when we started to see each other he would come come over to see me and since I was staying alone at my apartment it was not to mention despicably clean.
The title is pretty self-explanatory and true in the case of men. And this I say with experience and the conviction of a girl that has been living with her boyfriend for the past 2 years. The love of my life was so good to me and he would do anything that I would ask him to do. He would not use my towels when I asked him not to, he would mop the bathroom floor every time he used it, every thing was perfect. Well it was.. At least till the time we decided to move in together. So with dreams and aspirations we moved in. Like every girl i would and I am still thinking of ways to make my rented apartment an extension of who we really are. It all started then, slowly but gradually. I learnt then that :
1. The living area is literally the living area.
2. The couch is apparently a bed.
3.The toilet seat is supposed to be up rather than down.
4. Your closet is just another piece of furniture because your clothes are either gracing the floors or the chairs or the table or anything else but the CLOSET!
5.Clothes are only to be washed if and when required. If the sun aint shining or if the clothes are drier unfriendly, then wash them and keep them directly underneath the fan, even if it wets the carpet. The man needs his clothes.
6.Garbage is not to be departed with under any circumstances. It gives your house a certain, how do i say it… smell!
7.Somebody else will always do your dishes. Keep on piling them. You want to keep your rodent friends close to you because you could not cope with the lose of your teddy bear when you were 8 years old. ( I know that a bear is not exactly from the rodent family, just wanted to get my point across. haha..)
8.After using whatever it is that you need, do not keep it back to where it belongs because you dont want to find it ever again, especially when you need it. That includes the bike keys and the house keys. Its a crime in my house to keep things where they belong.
9.When you hear someone say “please do not” (whatever you are asked not to do). You are supposed to hear “please do” (whatever you are asked not to do)
10.Does not matter the aesthetics of the room, if you need to sleep under the fan, you need to. Even if it means there is no place to walk around because the goddamn bed has occupied the entire centre and much of the room.
There are yet many more things that i want to share with you, however, we will do that some other time. As if now please just pray that my boyfriend does not ever never ever read this. Otherwise Im in for some lecturing of how I am supposed to keep our private life private. People say that God made man in his like, but I beg to differ because I cannot bare the thought of our God being dirty! haha! I keep on cleaning up after him, its like constantly mothering a 4 year old, and honestly sometimes I give up in hopes, that you know he will realize that living in a filthy environment is well… filthy and not to mention unhygienic! When the guests are in, he is however, in his best behavior. Guess what happens once they leave…. Yes he is back to being his normal self. Guess somethings never change! I love him none the same. I spy!
Here check this out for dirty room pictures: http://www.popularwealth.com/index.php/messy-office-and-room-pictures

Never Heard of The Beatles. Get Bee-Stunk!

So this weekend I had practically nothing to do other then watch the cricket match with my boyfriend and his friends. My clean sanctum was converted into a make shift bachelor’s pad as soon as a couple of size 9 shoes walked in. At the end of it all I was left to clean the room and pick up beer bottles and by the way they seemed to be playing hide and seek with me, because every time I cleared a few, a few would materialize again in most curious corners of the house.
Anyways, Saturday night me and Watson (my boyfriend) where watching American Idol Season 10. The theme was Beatles Love. I could barely conceal my excitement since I’m a major Beatles Fan. Their songs have a special place in my heart because I grew up listening to them. They have helped me through breakup, they have made me just burst out a dance move. I have cried and laughed and their music has touched me. Maybe it’s also because my dad, mum and I would sing to their tunes and dance when we were a normal happy family. So there I was all psyched up. And as my favorites were all getting ready there were actually quite a lot of them who have never heard of them before! I thought, “You must be kidding me right”! Seriously never heard of them. It’s like saying that they have never heard of Frank Sinatra or Peggy Lee. I mean they probably have a song for everything and probably every emotion known to mankind. I’m not kidding, here are a few:
1. A Hard day’s Night: for the common man, the bread winner of the family who works day in and out.
2. And I Love Her: An undying love song for the love of our life
3. Back in the USSR : About a spy who is back in his country
4. Can’t Buy me Love: Where they choose love over earthly possessions
5. Yesterday: A haunting melody about a procrastinating man
6. When I’m Sixty Four: An everlasting love song; confirming if your lover is always going to be there.
7. Revolution: Beatles take on the war in Vietnam.
And I can go on and on. They have touched the hearts of millions and there are people who have conveniently forgotten about them. Listen to them not just because they were pretty boys but because their songs have such wonderful connotations, because they have songs that you can truly relate to, because their songs will bring joy to you, because their songs are truly universal in appeal.
Check this out for a whole lot of information on The Beatles: http://www.aboutthebeatles.com/
I cannot seem to say Let It Be rather I would say Help! Help the people who have never heard Beatles. Listen to The Beatles and you shall Twist And Shout now and forever.

Going Higher and Higher!

Finally we have shifted to the 4th floor in our new SEZ facility. And, I have to tell you that there were quite a few disgruntled employees. I as always have been the one who complains the most. Yesterday I could not make it to work because of my “so called migraine”. Tsk tsk. So here I am at work today. Here is what I am complaining about:
 The cubicle dividers are way too high. Especially for me since I am of an oriental decent, I am naturally “quite” short. Therefore I cannot see anyone or anything other than the formidable plastic walls.
 The breadth of the tables is less compared to the previous ones. Not that it is deterring in any manner, I just miss the broad ones.
 The colors of the cloth on the dividers are dirty yellow and dirty green. The green looks like the color of mucus when you have a really bad cold. Yeah, exactly yuck!
 Its way too congested here. The CPU is on the table and the wires are have claimed half of the space on the table and with two monitors its all the more messy.
 The table is high. In fact too high. Even when my chair is elevated to the highest. The ergonomics of my work space totally sucks.
 The toilets are still under maintenance. If we want to there are bogs on the ground floor. But since I have kidneys the size of peas, it really does not help. As a result I go to the “work in progress” toilet and there is something very discomforting about peeing with wires hanging everywhere.
 Our landlines have been shuffled again, which means that I have lost all the numbers that were saved. This only means that I will be receiving calls for someone else for quite sometime now.
 We have to walk at least a mile to get a cup of coffee and even then its 1/4th coffee and the rest is water. It’s a constant battle between me and the coffee machine.
 Our floor is not carpeted. They have tiles. Yes looks very unprofessional.
 What else, the Team Leaders are seated right next to out cubicle.
These are the things that we have to endure all in the name of making your tummy smile. As I climb higher in the building, I have a sense that the quality of my company’s compassion for its employees is going down. Sad but true. Right now I’m very disgruntled all because it’s very inconvenient for me to type. I guess that is the price I have to pay for being short. 