Those 6 letter word – Part II

This blog is a continuation of Those 6 letter word – Part I

Now, let’s refer to ‘they’ as ‘he’ because ‘he’ is a true story. Well, so are ‘they’ but let’s just talk about him.

He says one thing but his actions contradict. He loves (I know) but his compulsive need to go with the crowd is sth he can’t get rid of and I can’t live with. ‘The others’ he refers to time and again…I used to think about if ‘they’ really exist? Unfortunately, they do. Like those grit in grain stuck like a bone to a flesh–not mine but his. Their thoughts, their views makes no difference to me, but it seems to him it does. He may not believe them, but whether or not he trusts me is rather obscure. He loves me but he cares what ‘the others’ say.  He confesses, but only when no one is listening. As they appear I seemingly appear invisible to him.

I’ve seen him helpless without me but I know he is miserable with me. He cries when I leave and insists that I come back but when I finally do, he doesn’t hold tight–rather easily let go. I know for a fact, that’s not what he intends to, but too sad he does nothing about it.

It is exhausting having to explain yourself every moment coz no matter what you do, it is never enough or not good enough for ‘them’ that he is referring to as ‘the others.’ So every time I come back, I leave as soon as I do. There were a few moments when I wanted him to say ’stay’ and I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to, but he did not. He doesn’t always have to say to express, but sometimes he must. He needs to show it, say it and say it out loud.

Rather than living together in misery and creating a whole fuss for people around us, who isn’t too keen about the idea already, my decision back then was clear. I would rather stay apart and alone than together and hurt. I am not sure if he realizes this yet, but every time I’d left, it was for him more than for me. And each time I came back it was less for me but more for us.

He is the first person I loved so much as a child…but today, can’t say the same. There is no doubt I still love him and I genuinely care, but not the most. Above all, he has someone who fills in the blank but the blank that he has left in our lives can never be fulfilled. Coz a child may happen more than once but a begetter happens only once.

Life works in mysterious ways. Until and unless one has learned their lesson, life keeps slamming similar situation at your face. And like Sadhguru says, right things will not happen to you unless you do the right thing. So, if you want to change sth, first YOU have to change. Can’t be doing the same thing but expecting different result right? You all know it, the definition of insanity by Albert Einstein.

So what do I do differently this time? Running away from your problems is not the solution of course but would you stay in a place where every moment you are reminded you are unwanted? Let’s shift our focus from the place we run from towards the place we run to. I’ve realized I tend to stay longer or return to a place as quickly as I leave if and only if I feel wanted. Love may or may not be there, understanding and compatibility may or may not exist, but if the people of that place says and shows, they need me—I stay. It’s essential, at least for me it is. A place where you feel uninvited, where you get a feeling of an intruder or worst, a guest in your own home? Trust me, the feeling from the latter is more heart-wrenching.

So this time, the way IN is if I become so stubborn that I decide to stay no matter what OR he decides to take a strong stand for whatever he truly believes in. Not sure about him, but as for me, the same rule applies. Same goes for work or any space for that matter. That’s why I often say, I love so much even to the point of letting go and leaving if need be. My idea of true love is to free (whoever needs to be freed) or simply flee. So the tragedy here is, not love or lack of it, but everything else…

He loves and loves so much, but that’s all he knows.
But love alone isn’t enough. To be together, you need more.
Understanding, respect, support to name a few,
But with time came differences and the distance only grew.

You don’t necessarily have to share a roof to be a ____.
You don’t have to be living together to show you care.
I am not there and he is never here but he is as much a part of me as I’m a part of him
This is the truth that remains unchanged and it need not be stressed.

I want you to know, in spite of the circumstances and the distance. Love shall always remain love. And I shall always care: I did, I do and always will. ‘They’ that you cite every now and then might be with you and I may not. Who is closer you ask? You know! You should know what’s a part is never apart and I am a part of you which even you cannot ignore. It’s about time we acknowledge, it’s the roots that bind us together, not the fruits.

Why fruits? You told me they told you I’m selfish, but why does it matter? Coz of all, you know what the truth is, they don’t. The full story of you & I, no one else knows it better than you and me. Not that I will but I rather starve myself to death than, approach you for selfish reasons. Or anyone for that matter. Yes, I can get as stubborn as you. Self-respect above all else.

Does it still matter what they say or think? If it does, I see no point why I should be there. I have lived half my life without you, I could do the same for whatever breath remains. Not that I wish to, but…

Today, the time has brought me back to a place I’d left behind. Really, it’s only a matter of time when any unfinished business demands your attention. What’s left in tatters needs to be at least picked if not fixed. I am scared as hell as ever, but I have come to do what I can, with the best of my ability in the given situation.

I’ll be there if you want me to, but whether I stay is up to you, like always. I have issues I am willing to work on, but you’ve got to work on yours too. Also, you must stop blaming destiny for setting us apart, because you know we have the power to change our destiny.

When we say KARMA, that after all is just a consequence of our action, isn’t it? You may think what they want you to think but THINK again, what you do, how you choose to act or react is entirely up to you. They can’t make you do things. So, let’s try and at least do things right this time?

Those 6 Letter Word – Part I

There is love & plenty, and I’m definitely not someone who hesitates to show love or say it out loud. But, if I do…might follow the dots to witness it connecting to a bitter past. It’s infuriating, how one can get enslaved by all those emotions once shook us as a child or a teenager. Got nothing to do with age but the intensity and magnitude with which one felt it. These obnoxious feelings unfailingly trigger the same rush in the blood when placed in a similar situation. Just when I think I’ve overcome those feelings–they return. I wish I didn’t have to deal with it or could get rid of it once and for all.

All unwanted emotions, erased at the touch of a button. Wouldn’t that be great? Unfortunately, that’s not the reality for most of us. Many of us live with some scars left from the past which bleeds once in a while. But again, I think it’s ok, as long as they do not overwhelm. We could use those as teachings or a gentle nudge for what not do and how not to be. It’s all good, as long as we use them to our benefit when we need it and keep it aside when we don’t. It is crucial we don’t forget the past lessons, but what is more important is not to allow the past to ruin the present. Something I am learning to tackle, though slowly and steadily I am getting there.

How I might be feeling right now, if it is somehow connected to the strings of the past, it helps to acknowledge that which is not. That is nothing but an illusion–your mind’s own making. And our mind is capable of creating almost about anything. From sth that may lead to a miracle OR towards a disaster.

Despite knowing all the right things, sometimes I fail to practice it. I know, there is no reason for me to hold back, to show the love to those who really need it, especially if they are someone I genuinely care about, but I hesitate. The answer lurks in the past; I do not wish to revisit but it came right at me–couldn’t avoid it.

Shouldn’t I take this as an opportunity to right my wrong from the past? But wait, some part of me thinks in fact I know, I did nothing wrong yet I was smashed. Is this my alter ego or the truth? The fact of the matter is, I am afraid, of the probable consequence, of what ifs. The result, not that of the future but WHAT IF it’s one from the past? The fear of having to go through what I’d once experienced. Something that I would not want to go through it again. It’s like the juxtaposition of the conscious reality of today but the overpowering emotions of yesteryears. It is too complicated to put it in words simply.

Challenges should always be dealt with like as if they are NEW coz they are. But why does this feel like a déjà vu? It steers the same emotions from the past, and the image so vivid that it feels like that which happened years ago is actually happening right now. And the worst feeling is, you think you know how this is going to end, not in your favor of course. “I know this is not real,” says the head but now, who’s going to convince those emotions who isn’t ready to hear but act. I hear my emotions scream, saying, “I held no bad intention but was misunderstood…when all I wanted was home, was shown the way out…when all I knew was to love but ALL that I was accused of…and more.”

Sometimes, your ability to love too much and being sensitive toward the life energies around you–work against you. Some people say, “this is a gift from life, you should nurture it.” Right! But only when one learns how to do just that. The process of learning to handle it right in itself seems one hell of a roller-coaster. Its life in the making, YOU, to help you evolve into your higher self(?/!)Not sure, but whatever…

It has been more than a decade now. Things have changed, people have changed, I have too, but these feelings. As much as I am aware of these emotions being nothing but the hazy image of the ghost from the yesteryears. Unfortunately, not every cell in my body is convinced with this fact. Thoughts persuade, but emotions persists. Coz I do NOT what I think, but how I feel.

Let’s try and tackle the ‘what if(s) one by one for how it was then and how it is now. First in the list from one of my thing of the past was, ‘what if I love but they don’t love me back?’ Today, this seems irrelevant coz I have no expectations from anyone and least of all from those I really care about. When you are terrible with numbers, I have realized its best to keep transaction free.

The second what if that has lead to a self-created misery is, ‘I love so much that it hurts.’ Well, not anymore. This is sth I learned recently. Seriously, how can one be in love and hurt at the same time? That self-created misery is only possible if the love you are offering is some kind of a deal, in exchange for sth else. If its a deal it ain’t love, at least not for me. And above all, no more a fool to exchange sth so precious I have for sth that could dissipate, most likely in a black hole. When you know you are full of love, so much capable of loving, giving and creating pleasant emotions within, why exchange it for anything else right? It took me a couple of heartbreaks to realize this, but now I know the joy of driving in a one-way street. On full speed, so much fun and is safe too. No! Not taking you on a ride. The third, fourth and fifth what if(s) are:

– Do they want me as much as I want them?
– I want to take care of them but do they want to be taken care of…by me?
– He says he loves me, but I know he is better of without me.

Well, these trios are the main cause of the dilemma that I am in. Thus, I hold back, to give the love that I have coz they need it but not sure if they need it from me.

These are not mere literations, but real life experiences that are using words as a medium to express and heal. These are not years of feelings but feelings in years, deeply rooted yet revisiting the surface.

Ok, let’s put a series to this post? I am just playing lazy lately and/or too busy juggling.

Here’s the link to part II (final).

Mama Ghar | Dangihat | Dr. I B Rana

Mama Ghar (Maternal Uncle’s house)

Here I am, laying my feet on its soil as an adult for the first time. Its winds with it brought back the same emotions, it had once installed in a child in me. I can safely say (for this place at least)–once attached, never detached. I just had to close my eyes to go back in time: to smell, hear and picture things as they were. As I was in-tuned with the past, suddenly, the whirlwind of emotions came rushing. Overwhelmed, I had to excuse me, find a little hide-out and soak it all in. Few deep breaths and I felt much lighter and at peace. As I was sitting there, a little birdy grabbed my attention. It was hovering around a tree in front of me. It hopped from one branch to another, throwing its quick glance at me, like as if seeking attention.

Mama Ghar: Soo many memories here growing up. Children–all curled-up together for story-nights narrated dramatically by the elders. Those scary stories of encounter with the ghosts being discussed beneath the starry nights with nothing but a laltain on (lantern). Those thumping sounds of children running in a wooden bridge–which linked two separate sections of the house: from all bedroom, hall, to the kitchen and another bridge extending towards the tallest toilet in the entire region. All those and more—now only etched in memories. In a sense, nothing about the place is the same. But again, it hasn’t changed much.

A literal English translation of the word mama-ghar means, maternal uncle’s house. I used to wonder why its called mama-ghar and not ama-ghar? Ama meaning mother. Well, I was enlightened on it only recently. A son calls his home–home (a place where he was born and/or brought-up). Whereas, his sister(s) calls her husband’s house her home (once married). In that sense, sasurali (the house of the in law’s) is in verbal use only for the son(s). As for the daughter’s, its either ghar (her husband’s home) or maiti-ghar (home where she was born and/or brought-up). That was quite a revelation for me with peculiar reasoning. Which brings me to this question. Does it mean, all women and girls unless married are without ghar–a place they can call home? Not necessarily right?


Since the day I got the taste of travelling, I was hooked to it. Thanks to my father’s love for driving. Something about being in the motion, on the road, seeing life up-close and away from routine, made my heart sing. Every year I used to look forward to our long school vacation, for a much anticipation family trip. The route from home in Kathmandu towards mama-ghar in Dangihat was the strong link that gave me and my siblings an opportunity to see and experience country-life at its best. Born and raised in Kathmandu, hadn’t it been these trips, I would have never understood the beauty of simple living. I could have never known, how exuberant I could feel without THINGS. I could have never witnessed the power of small things, the beauty of little adjustments, all those small exposures that make us humble, considerate, and overall, a good human being.

Maam-ghar, a house with a thatched roof providing enough space for humans with the generous field for farming, garden and a fair share for house pets and animals. This full house used to be always buzzing with people and full of life, but now, it stands alone. This vintage home, that sheltered many and cured thousands has slowly started to shred. However, still rigid and strong for its age. Like a treasure box: each pile of its wood has secured the fondest memories of our childhood. I still remember seeing a number of villagers gathering in the big room on the ground floor to watch the television. This used to be the house, ahead of its time in its locality. It stood unique with its antique stained glass windows and intrinsic appeal to its bed (especially one in the grandmum’s room, I always had my eyes on it). The house in some way had adopted the unique personality of its creator (granddad)–spreading an aura of one in a million.


As a child, I was a little granny–very wise haha. Nothing comforted me, more than my own company. Often, I preferred to be alone or in the company of nature and puppies, dogs, birds etc (by choice). In that area, I haven’t changed a bit. My elder sister and cousins, on the other hand, were little troops of an army, parading around-town. I mean this in a playful way—when together, they were a bunch of spoilt brats expecting royal treatment, haha. And to back up their courage, our grandfather’s name was enough. This name, Dr I.B.Rana. worked as protective armour at any given day. I feel sorry for those poor village kids, who had no choice but to succumb to my cousins’ endless demands in favour of few guest-kids (us) from the city.

My cousins were not the first generation to reap fruits from grandad’s name. His repute, once established hasn’t left the place yet. In fact, it is travelling with people whose life he had once touched. My mum with her siblings’ shares without guilt that they all made full use of their last name, beyond comparison. Innocent little devils! But what fond memories to re-live isn’t it? 🙂 Their childhood stories although repeatedly mentioned, never fails to entertain us all.

Coming back to our childhood, the subtle version of bossing around was: Reserving swings for hours (archaic swing hung by the tree), bathing in natural canal, entering random house to play hide and seek or taking a plunge into the river (making it more of a private pool)—no intruders allowed (as if we owned it). Speaking of the river reminds me of my first ever encounter with a 🐍 (snake). As a child, I used to burst into tears upon its mention, even weeks later haha. Seriously, sometimes it feels as if that was, a whole another life that we’d once lived.

Most of us (cousins), were the millennials, almost equally divided into Gen Y.1 and Gen Y.2). Growing up in the city, at least me and my siblings had the privilege of growing up using computers and the internet. I feel, that the millennials are one of those fortunate generations, who got to experience the best of both worlds (the beautiful world that there was) before the internet and smartphone were placed above all else. However, their popularity or dominance does not make these innovations important than life; in fact, clearly, it isn’t. Well, arguably even the Gen Y has some exposure to the simplest form of life or farm life, through #farmville of course. 😉


Early in the morning, the market would already be buzzing with people. The sight of cold winter mornings was my favourite, where I watched crowds disappearing into comforting fogs. When I say market, it used to be those haat-bazaars (flea markets), with a colourful display of one’s arts and craft, jewellery, a variety of food, fresh home-grown fruits and vegetables, etc. Each seller used to exhibit their own little creations, by placing them over a thin cloth right off the mud floor, with a gentle daub of mud (red) for that polished effect. Also, many other sellers used to set-up open stalls made from wood and bamboo. It was a rare and comforting space to be in. Also a pleasant sight and scent amid good chaos. I had never witnessed morning like these anywhere else.

Buying bhakka (rice-cake) for breakfast was one those delights. Also, one of my favourite feats, because that used to my only motivation to wake up early. As much as I enjoyed eating them, it was pleasant watching it being prepared. Each set of rice-cake used to be gently wrapped in soft-cotton cloth (muslin), steamed in a clay pot with a lid on, placed over a wood fire. Once cooked, these freshly steamed rice cakes used to be folded either in banana leaves or a paper and offered with chutney (side dip). They were either cooked plain or with sugar. These little treats tasted best when served with tea brewed on thick cow milk right from the backyard. I’m hungry now.


In the eyes of the little girl that I was, mama-ghar looked humongous back then. It was the world of its own. Home to 20 family members: granddad, grandmum, their 2 daughters, 4 sons lived with their wives and children. All under the same roof. With works divided, everything seemed to operate well. Each mama (uncle’s) room had the character of their own. To mention one, the eldest mama’s room had the Jesus Christ posters—neatly framed with a rosary hanging around it. A tidy room with piles of science and medicine books on a table, along with statues of Hindu gods and goddesses. Although, born Hindu, each member of the family had the freedom of choice: with religion or life in general. Also, equal treatment to children despite gender. This speaks volumes about their upbringing in spite of being born in a small town. Big credit goes to their father (our grandfather). No wonder, my mum is so broad-minded. Not just her attitude but aptitude: her ability to grasp things, in particular, geography and numbers—astounds us both (me and my elder sister). In fact, both our parents never tried to impose any particular values upon us. We were free to make our own choices, learn from our mistakes and live life on our own terms.


Mummy-buwa (mother’s father), a reputed man of his time, respected by his people, but an unsung hero otherwise. His is not a glorified story; indeed a glorious personality. He-who has touched several lives, those who had once crossed path with his. I was told that there is a book published in his memory, by one of his well-wisher. I am on the look-out for that piece of literature.

Note: Mum and many others highly speak of him, his intelligence, his journey, his struggles, his level of understanding people of all age and gender. Honestly, there was a time when I thought, maybe, our guardians were trying to glorify our grandfather. Because, first of all, I had never met him (at least I don’t recall it). I was only few months old when his body left this earth. Secondly, I had grown up hearing stories of his heroic deeds and seemingly larger than life personality, but never actually got a chance to witness it. Not to disrespect but I thought, of course, he must be someone above average, but not as large as being portrayed. But now I think I was wrong. Because to validate all those stories, I have come across sufficient people (outside family) who can’t stop praising him. A family could be biased, but an outsider, will not.

He was originally from Burma (now Myanmar), a surgeon in the Indian army. Had a tattoo of Lord Krishna in his left arm. We were told, he used to speak and write in various languages. 10+ was the number. Personally, I am not sure, how true that is. All love and respect to you granddad if you are listening, but hope you don’t mind some healthy room to question? He seemed to have touched several lives within his reach and beyond his profession. He seemed to have charmed his people through his intellect, understanding, personality and most important of all—as a humanitarian.

With the pace at which the world is moving, not many have the time to spare for other’s life, let alone hearing their story. Everyone seems to be participating in this rat race of becoming that big story themselves. And that’s good; nothing wrong with it. But sometimes it helps to slow down and be an observer. If not for anything, at least for clarity. I have always loved stories, especially those narrated my mothers and grandmothers. It’s for the first time that I am mentioning granddad in my blog and it is my privilege to get to introduce him among all readers. Growing-up hearing his stories has been a traditional thing in our family. We rejoice it and its always a proud moment. Even though words might do no justice, at least by mentioning him in our conversation, we keep him alive for years to come. I have done my bit and shall continue to. We need your blessings granddad and may your soul rest in peace.


There are several reasons that contributed to our fond memories in Dangihat. First and foremost, the lineage (of course) and the reputation it held in the region. Secondly, we were the bhanja and bhanjis (probably the most loved and respected relation you’ll find in most culture). Being admirable adds to it btw 😉 And last but not least, the perception of an outsider, helped us see things that locals could not. It gave us a fresh outlook towards apparently an ordinary country-life. Also, one thing that never fails to grab my attention while on the go is—to witness that literally every single thing that moves—is fully alive. And that, in turn, makes me feel alive. Maybe it’s for this reason, whenever I feel that the routine has taken its toll on me, I try to somehow get close to nature. It feeds me with energy and always provide a much-needed shake-up, helping me let go of things that I must and taking-up things that I should.

Often, our surroundings change us for better or worst without our own knowledge. Some exposure blinds us away from reality while others provide better clarity. It’s not a fair comparison, but unwittingly I tend to compare: bills splitting culture in the developed societies, with the generous offering of so-called ‘impoverished.’ Which reminds me of Sadhguru who talks about, rich and affluent societies carrying long faces in spite of having it all; whereas those supposedly ‘poor’ carries the most hearty and cheerful smile of all (not in verbatim).

What’s with travel, the mountains and spirituality, if you ask? A lot of power out there, open for all—right there in the nature. John Wood, left Microsoft after his much-awaited time off work, trekking in Nepal. Sadhguru’s bewildering explanation about his life-changing experience in Chamundi hill in Karnataka, India and Steve job’s inspiration from Saihoji Temple in Japan. So what are you waiting for? Hit that road, take a plunge or climb a mountain. Do what you must, that helps revives the human side of you. Anything that helps you achieve your highest goals.
Happy traveling. $hri$T

When I say they, they say I :)

Sometimes you learn a lot about yourself from others. “Others” either your own or no less than one. At times it takes you another biological body to understand your strength be it mental, physical or emotional.

Often an observation shines with clarity than just being. Meaning, as an observer; an outsider one tend to see things that we normally overlook (esp when it is about your self). Too much self-indulgence makes your ignorant, it narrows down your horizon and makes your perspective – limited. Therefore, a different perspective can take you a long way. Well!Not that I am saying it always works but sometimes it does and when it does, it does for better.

Today was one of those days where I came up-close with myself. I used to think I know myself better than anyone, that’s true but the other truth is, there are few traits in me I’d simply ignored not even realizing that I had these characteristics in me in the first place.

Well! We all must admit that we are changing every second, as we strive to adapt socially, psychologically and physically. Our priority change with time coz we change in time and change in fact is good; what’s catastrophe is not adapting to these changes brought about by time.

My friends and family points out my weaknesses but the approach is so motivational that it leaves me influenced where I leave no stone unturned to transform that flaw into strength like it was never a fault. You’ll be surprised that often your well wishers know you better than you think you know yourself. They know what you are capable of and be it pointing out your fragile side or boosting up your self-esteem; they do what they have to and say what they need to, not just because they love you but it’s also because they know you so very well.

I feel glad to be surrounded by the well wishers and friends and oh so dearly blessed to have my d and mum. All you beautiful people in my life, it wouldn’t be propriate to say that I have no words to express how I feel. Rather! I would say – words is all I have to show you how much you all mean to me.

An inspiration that your companionship provides, a motivation your words give, that extra mile I reach from your gentle push, and that trust and faith you have in me wouldn’t want me to let you down.

Its moments when I say “they can and I can’t”, they say that I definitely can when they can. They are my well wishes, my friends and family. Load and loads of love to all my lovelies! It’s because of you each day I wake up building new confidence and I say it to my new self “if they say I can, oh yes I can! $hri$T

“Beautiful She”, My Mother My Best Friend!

She is the most beautiful person in the world to me: She, who has nurtured the child in me as well as influenced the women in me. She is Mother less more a friend to me. A friend who’s always guided me in the right direction, who’s wondered along when I lost track, who’s accepted me despite my rejection of her, who’s always been welcoming no-matter how many times I’ve left, who’s always been there when I needed her-even when I though I didn’t…She who’s never enforced her rules on me, instead has allowed me to learn from my mistakes.

She, whom I’ve never expressed my affection towards as much as I’ve poured my discomforts and dislikes, don’t know why sometimes nearness makes it harder to express things we want to. Words find no voice and despite the willingness we fail; I wonder why that happens. Why the urge to drawback from expressing adoration towards our own? Why end up sounding critical, when in fact wanted to show gratitude? Why so hard to utter those simple words that convey acceptance? Why withhold the positive emotion when there’s plenty more? Why do we often miss to see what we have and nag over things that we don’t?

Have experienced times when words are nothing but a mere mumble; more of all sustains in action. But other times when words and action both fail, what do we do? Luckily! When it comes to Mothering, “There’s less expectation and more an acceptance”. When you have no one else to run to, she is not an option but the only choice you have. I’ve misunderstood her several times and there were days, when I thought she was negligent of me, but didn’t realize then-how neglectful I was of her. And now that I’ve realized, I want her to know: I do respect her for all the things that she’s given me, also those that she (didn’t). I have nagged and fought with her, have judged her, have cursed myself for judging her, have hated her as much as I’ve loved her.

She has a secret unlocked as deep as that of an ocean; she has them for she wants the best for the rest. Depth of her soul yet to be explored, she is the mystery unresolved, the more you solve more modest she becomes. Besides being a mysterious history she is indeed a bright future. She wants us to live the life that she couldn’t live; she wishes all our wishes to come true. In our joy she finds her happiness, in our success she cherishes her achievement, in our fulfillment she seeks her freedom. She always wants what’s best for us. She is my mother, more a friend in its truest sense. She is beautiful inside and out. She’s not perfect yet so, she is.

As it’s said, “Maybe god was too busy to answer all of our prayers, which is why he created Mother”. True! Maybe god knew he wasn’t perfect and couldn’t be there for all his children at all times that’s why he created yet another wonderful being; his counterpart “Mother for all”. She who brought us to life, who showed us true meaning of life, who taught us to actually live life and who has become our life.

She is most wanted when you feel unwanted, she whose presence you feel mostly when she is absent, she whom most of us take for granted in a sense, we always expect her to understand without making an effort from our part, trying to understand her. She’s been compromising since decades and we take her acquiesce for the things “she wants”. Have we ever asked “What she really wants”, even if we have, chances are she’ll confuse her wants with our needs, in that case, have we really made an effort to know what she really needs? Are the things that we want, really what she wants too as an individual? Do she deserve to compromise as always?

My point might not make complete sense to all but those plenty daughters like me out there, can feel my words as we’re the mere reflection of her. We’re the first to see our mother turning from mystery to a miracle; we’ve wondered how she does all the things that she does, so effortless it seems yet so much exertion it takes.

I have grown up adoring her beauty, envying her charm, aspiring her vitality, adopting her attributes, mimicking her acts, putting on her make-up, envying her collection, trying on her apparel, trying to fit myself on her shoes…But today I have grown up to the size where I’ve been standing tall on her heels and observing the world. Now I see, how “Beautiful she” has beared her entire life in these painful heels. Elegant as it looks torturous it feels, leaving up to other’s expectations while compromising own needs. Have grown up confused, in the society that says male’s a Macho but all strength acquired is through what others call “Fe-male”. “Beautiful She” definitely is not, Fe-for-feeble as “Fe” defines.

She is an easy inspiration, a courageous soul, a giver, a risk-taker. She who dares to wear teen even in her 40’s,she’s shrewd because she knows the best, liberal because she don’t believe in taking sides, accountable because she values every dime. She’s life of every party coz she believes in giving despite how she’s feeling. She who falters with the latest gadget(technologies), falls short to changing trend but she who knows all other things spiritual than these. She understands these techno has advanced but is trivial when it comes to true essence that makes life. These and others inexplicably make “Beautiful She”, My Mother My Best Friend!


Mom + Dad = Everything

“Whole is greater than sum of its parts.” No! This post ain’t about Holism or has got anything to do with Aristotle and/or Metaphysics.Not wholly related but partly it is 😉

Paradoxically, here I am comparing the whole with my parents and parts when separating the two. So rephrasing it I would like to say “Whole is definitely greater than its part”.

As a little girl I still remember how I used to love and adored my parents when together. I can still remember once when I was in 4th or 5thh standard, we all were asked to make a sentence out of a given word. I was given the word “Bird”. I made a sentence out of that for which I was praised in front of the whole class (That I still remember hehe). I can’t say with certainty but it was sth like “It looks beautiful to see two birds stay together, fly together, just be together.” The order of the sentence might be different but it was that phrase I had come up with.

Those two birds symbolized my own parents. IDK if my teacher could feel the in-depth sentiment but he sure looked pleased. He closed his eyes, nodded his head and made that Hmmm sound of appreciation…and I was thinking to myself (was that sentence, that good?).To my surprise I came up with that sentence instantly … You may think? “One very simple sentence and blowing her own trumpet ….” But to me it’s deeper than just a sentence. It proves how the environment @ home was effecting and influencing my thoughts..Philosopher not by choice !

Well coming back to the point and getting out of that classroom (lol)….Talking about my parents. As I was saying how I adored them when they were together. Now if you ask me “If separated the both, whom do you love the most? Mom or Dad? I would say “NONE”-YES, you heard that right, neither of both. To me they both lost their value when separated.

Let me explain that to you in rather absurd way or I say more artistic/creative way (haha).How do you draw a heart?? You draw the curved line from the top of the paper pulling the pencil in an arc as it moves downward. You than repeat the same arc on the other side making sure it’s the same size and shape. If I am correct you’ve just joined two sketches and gave it a shape of a heart right?? Let’s say u never joined those two arcs. You drew the left side and left it incomplete. Now picture how does it look like?? To me it looks somewhat like a disfigured sign of a question mark, isn’t it? One disfigured sign of a question mark and its mirror image when joined together solves all the answer (lol).Don’t yall agree?

Same goes for my parents. Combination of my dad and mom was terrific and their separation a disaster. Used to value both when they were together and now that they are apart, they both seem valueless to me. That’s why I say “Family just a showcase that too crooked”. When they were together I loved them both equally and now that they are apart I dislike both EQUALLY. It’s their life, their decision FINE! Marriage fails -ok understood…BUT WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN???

It hurts to see the most precious thing you’ve owned and you’ve ever loved break into two (Pieces? There are just so many pieces that its hard to tell if its just 2 pieces).I could go to any extreme to join them but they only repel .Even If I do join it, marks are still going to be visible which will keep reminding me how badly it was broken and what happens if u try to assemble all those broken pieces? You might get hurt or even bleed (that’s what exactly happened to me). Reverting back to my childhood is no fun (trust me on that).

I was flipping back pages from my old diary…back in 2005 I write: “I want to be a child again, want to be reincarnated in a fine family and the 1st thing I would like to change is EXCHANGE my mom and dad with someone else’s ” .I write: “Is this my life? If it is than I don’t like the people in it esp my near and so called dear ones”.Dec 2004 I write “ Dad tells me that he is gonna leave me like dog leaves shit ” (I don’t remember he saying that? Bad liar am I? I must have made that on my own coz I don’t want to believe it’s true.

If only there was a time machine where actually I could go back in time and rewind. I would than stop my parent’s separation. NO! I guess I would go further than that…I would stop my own parent’s marriage (lol)-Again Not Funny!?! But It Is……

• I was there the whole time to so them break and deep down inside I was unable to endure no more and like a wreck damn was going to break.

• I was there the whole time watching and learning all the shitty things that comes with marriage.

• I was there the whole time to see my perfect heart shaped love break apart.

As a child whom would I look up to when the only person u look up to as a child was acting no less than children.I was there lying and crying alone at home still longing for home(Sush D had left for US and my little brother was just too little and was still in hostel). So close to my parents yet so far away. FAMILY makes u secure but I was insecure.

My life has been a big joke to me and it’s funny how I make a joke out of my own life and smile all the time .LOL moments! Laugh out load till tears roll down… Now that festive season is approaching nearer, I only wanna run away farther.

My dad found his better half or I say it quarter half (lol)! Not funny? But it is funny C’mon!!Did he found the right fit to resemble a heart shape? I am trying to render it correct but to me it still looks like an odd shaped heart that can never find its perfect match (a daughter is speaking plz forgive her being inconsiderate, or don’t forgive I don’t care).

What do you do when reality is not how you want it to be? You escape from the reality and assure yourself that this world is perfect and everything is going the way you want it to be right??? NO! You don’t??Okay than! I do (hehe).Yes! I close my eyes and I pretend that everything is alright.

How and when did my longing started? Since when did this emptiness sheltered? It’s rooted deep within since as long as I can remember and this longingness can never be fulfilled I know.

Lastly, if anyone is reading this than note my words “Don’t believe anything that I have written. My life is perfect and my parents love each other dearly and they love me even more. ”


My Sister My Mother !!

D ! I was just flipping back pages from my old diary,like i do repeatedly (hehe)…That’s how i am so connected with my past. There bck in 2006 i had written sth about you.So thought of sharing piece of that writing on my blog …

I Write: “Now i am a better sister,a better daughter,a better friend ,a better person,and its all because of you ..I am just a reflection of you but still in a process of becoming you.”

“Everything that i go through you feel it before i do because everything that i am experiencing now…you’ve experienced it too”. And that’s why i say i am just an image of you.Oh lord !! “I am so much yourself” LOL !!

D ! You’ve seen the dumbest part in me and the creative part in me…You’ve seen me when I’ve looked the ugliest and when I’ve looked the prettiest (I THINK) Ehh !!…

You’ve seen the collages that i made and the songs i tried tantalizing in bed ….You’ve seen me dressed fugly and You’ve heard me pronounce shutter for satire..Oh how ugly Ehh.

You mean everything to me and i mean it when i say i mean it..I MEAN IT IN CAPITAL LETTERS !!

Was it Dashain Or Tihar?? I am not sure but granny(dad’s mom) had passed away and we could not celebrate or perform any ritual for a year but…despite which we all went to mama’s place at Maitidevi and i remember …just an instance-out of innocence maybe..sumu happen to put on that malla (AND WE WERE NOT SUPPOSE TO)..He did that and all our relatives were like “No No No” As though sky had fallen down..Poor my baby brother he was bewildered for he couldn’t tell what is it that he really did -that shocked the hell out of all. I still remember on seeing this how you rushed to the other room and bursted into tears…I was little too …I could feel it but i did nothing about it than just watching you shed all those tears..Awww I love u D !!Love u soo much.

Once i visited your college(WHITE HOUSE) with you..there was this guy trying to flirt…he passed on a comment on my cap(saying J-Lo Cap Or Whatever That he said)..and than you gave him that dead eye LOL….poor fellow..He was zipped instantly and couldn’t even dare to lmake an eye contact with you after that (Hehe)….

There are numerous such incidents ..this one is just one OUT OF MANY….that moment i thought to myself..Hell ya !Am i blessed and lucky or what? That’s why maybe i never longed for no1 when u were around…u left for US and than… from that day till today i am looking for THINGS….and questioning myself ..what is it that i am missing??…..Neva needed dad or mum,or a best friend or a boy friend…never wanted elder brother in place of you-Never !..Coz u better protected me when i needed…

You alone in my life played a role of a father-mother-best friend-elder brother…what could i ask for..but too bad…You left and so did all.

The way i want – i never get it – from others – the way i get it from you !

My sister is my mother…my mother is my frens are my sisies…and my sister calls this MAGIC !! Ehh

I maybe unfortunate when it comes to it father-daughter relationship,mother-daughter relationship, or the least imp of all boifren-gurlfren relationship.For i still feel worthy and blessed for being gifted an elder sister like you.


People say this world is selfish and life is all about give and take but through you I’ve learnt …there can be just give and give without expecting anything to receive…All you ever wannet was-what was best for us (i.e myself and sumu)….you make me proud..(Or lets put it this was:like sumu’s silly blunder – i say it too …D! you make me proud…Today, Tomorrow ! LOL


My Sister My Mother

Frens 4ever

Friendship Is Base for All Relations. It Is Indeed The Most Beautiful And Purest Relation Of All. It Is The Beginning Of All nD Every Relation And With Frenship U Gve A New Hope To The Relation That Can Come To An End. The Reward Of Having True, Long-Lasting Friendship Is Worth All The Potential Rejection 😉

Frens Are Those Who Know You Betta Than Ure Parents ,They Are The Ones Who Really Knows Where U Were Last Nite?What’s Your Real Age?And How Many Affairs You REALLY Had? (LOL).So Lets Celebrate This Most Wonderful Relation On Earth. This Day Is Truly Special.

Hoping And Praying We Keep Up With This Bond Till Eternity. Hope We Get To Share Our Dreams,Good & The Bad Tymes And Cherish Each Other’s Success. Hope We Grow Old 2gether And Watch Each Other Fall In And Out Of Relation Till We Finally Find And Marry Our Perfect Soul Mate. And Also Watch & Share Our Seeds Getting Older(Ehh).

When We Pace Back In Tyme We Still Be Thrilled With Those Flashback Upon Viewing Those Old Albums 10 Yrs Frm Now And Say – “Hmm!I Wasn’t That Bad Looking ”, “I Wasn’t That Fat ”, “Hey !I Had Such Long Hair”. “OMG! What The Hell Am I Wearing? ” (Was In Fashion Then…..Ehh).

There Might Arrive A Tyme When We All Be Retelling Our Memoirs As Bed Tyme Stories To Our Children,About How In Our Tymes These Social Networking Sites Were Soo Popular. Watching Our Children Gaze Upon Us With Those Puppy Eyes While We Tell Them Stories About How I Met Ure Mother/Father LOL 😉

It’s Not Necessary We Meet Everyday Or Talk Over the Phone, Send Sms, Quotes, Scraps etc Bcoz w/o Much Ado We’re All Still Friends. This Is Jst A Lil Effort I Am Taking To Wish All You Special Pple Out There w/o Whom My Life Would Have No Meaning. Happy Friendship Day To All My Frens..YOU-YOU-YOU-Yes All Of You….Coz Therez No Space For An Outsider On My FB Frens List.XOXO ❤ !!! ($hri§T)

Friendship Is Base for All Relations. It Is Indeed The Most Beautiful And Purest Relation Of All. It Is The Beginning Of All nD Every Relation And With Frenship U Gve A New Hope To The Relation That Can Come To An End. The Reward Of Having True, Long-Lasting Friendship Is Worth All The Potential Rejection 😛