Meeting the Royal family of Nepal

“I had two breakfasts, one coffee and one tea today,” I told a friend online later.

Indeed. I pine for experiences, especially now, when there’s a genuine low in daily travel experience. This morning was a wonderful experience. Thanks to the idea of movie exchange, I caught up with a friend from school. And do I need to tell you that the meet was feel-good?

Coming to think of it, I have this deficiency in carrying on conversations. Being a newly found disease, I am still attempting to gauge all of its symptoms and only then will I stumble upon apt remedies. The defect is my weird tendency to plunge into a stupor-an uneasy silence after a few sentences. Such pauses generally make the person talking to me feel that I am bored of listening to him or her and my ears have better work to do than lend themselves to their talk. it is but obvious that he/she will be offended by this ‘lack of attention’. But today was different. I set out after breakfast and my coffee. We met on the road leading to her place and stood there talking for more than half an hour, our conversations jumping from topic to topic, discussing future plans, episodes from school, the fluctuations in life, common friends, the need to be in touch with the native land and other common experiences.

We had never really talked in school. What with so many people to talk to! We had known and acknowledged each other’s presence every time we passed by or while talking to common friends. She would always be the one to be called on stage for winning awards for her art. Her paintings, I believe have been on international trips to Korea!

Our conversation today, was like playing badminton though there were no scores. She would say something- a serve. I would lash back- the return. At one point of time, my inner being panicked and I said, “Ok, topics khattam!” But then she deftly and gracefully handled the show and we talked on.

She than pranced upon a topic that I love to delve in. “Hey you do mimicry, right?” she exclaimed and I could only look down at the ground and dig the mud with the toe of the chappal on my right foot and smile from my left ear to my right one! And then Julie appeared out of nowhere and scared a dog when she yelled, “Hut kutta!” But then my friend pointed out, “It’s a kutti!” Sheepish now, I stop, smiling to see my friend in amused guffaws.

It has now dawned upon me that she likes PJs. She invites me home for tea, just a stone’s throw away from where we now stand. I have half a mind to decline and almost said, “no” but now I’m glad I accepted. I take my time and frame an old PJ revived from the archives in my rusty brain. This time I get quick, cute bursts of laughter as a response.

A laminated photograph of the late royal family of Nepal welcomes me into the humble house. On another wall, is a picture of a smaller size- my friend and her family. Another radiant face hangs on yet another wall. I am told he’s a spiritual leader of sorts, named Prem Rawat and has a large number of followers worldwide.

I can’t help but notice the similarity between Nepali and Bengali as my friend talks over the phone to her cousin in Nepal. Soon, she gets up to get me a glass of water. Then she hands me a plate and tells me to try it. As soon as my eyes tell my brain that it is sautéed corn, I’m informed that it is indeed corn, but roasted on a pan and then mixed with ghee and honey. The first spoonful of the dish has me hooked to it! All of it soon finds itself in my tummy and my friend asks if I would like some more. I declined, for I believe, what is to be relished must be taken in doses! Aunty gets me tea and saying, “Le baccha,” places it on the broad armrest of the sofa (cum bed?). Aunty smiles when I say I liked the dish, tasted for the first time.

Both of us- my friend and me claim that we’ve bugged each other no end and I feel its time I made a move. I decided to call it ‘two hours spent well’. I smile widely as I think of what a fine entry into my blog this would be!

Thanks Deepa!

“Sir, can I come to college tomorrow?”

“Uhhhh (loud framing of sentences in the brain) yes of course. The Principal is waiting for you in his office. Just give me a ring when you reach the college gate and Rani will meet you there with a garland in her hand. Do you know how special you are to us? Or do we send a car to Ambarnath? But I think you would better come in a train as we can then avoid wastage of petrol on you. And walking is good for your health. I still don’t understand why you cannot go to CHM, Ulhasnagar. I talked to the coordinator Mr. Pathavle and he is ready to take you in. and, uhhhh, in terms of, your attendance, I do not have any problems. But I am concerned about your high IQ and your fast grasping powers. I must tell you now that your acute listening is tremendously powerful. And you are the only one who reads all the handouts that I supply in class. I must say, I love the way you sit on the second last bench and nod at everything I say. If you think I am 45 years old and cannot tell that that you are thinking of the Karjat fast home, then I must quit teaching and do kheti-wadi with my friend Bhargav in Karnala. I think I’ll go and do a soap-opera in the soap factory there and Bhargav can be Milkmaid. Aah, soap reminds me, did I ever tell you that Liril holds just two percent of the total market share of soaps? The loudest sound in my heart is the heartbeat ticking away. I am writing a song on it now, to perform at Ole’. I loved the way you mimicked me at Miditech and made the class barmy with joy. I love your scruffy hair, though now I have heard you’ve trimmed it akin to my hairstyle. True? Never rest you leg onto the wall behind you as you rest your back against it. You do that and I’ll pinch n twist n tweak n finetune n wrench n pull n tug n yank your ear that is closer to me and say, “How many times have I told you not to stand like that?” Don’t stare at my pen stand like that, you might break it with your cold eyes. I am told to play with it as I grill people because I have to push them with grace marks for every exam. Of course, with you, I never had any such issues. (Other than the fact that you ask too many questions in class!) I wanted to ask you if you would teach the current First Years’ a bit of Sociology? Or maybe ECS? I am sure you will do better than Patrick or his father or Sajay. Hena was good. I wonder if you would like to talk to the Second Years’ about your favourite subject, Innis and Mc Luhan especially? Ya, so, give me a call when you reach the college gate and Rani will me…"

Click.

Once upon a time in a fictitious land called, Letscallitpandharpur, there was a very just king. He just loved to be with his wife. And he just loved to keep away from booze. He was just a perfect teetotaller. Now you see why he was just. The king and the queen had a kid. Let us call him Prince.

Prince was an angel. No he did not wear white diapers and did not have feathery wings. He was cute and pink and would be nice to everyone who came to visit him and who played peek-a-boo with him. He wouldn’t wet his undies at untimely hours, as he knew that the wetness would cause rashes that would become cactus when he would sit on the royal carpets on the floor.

But as he grew, he started throwing tantrums and people ran all round him to catch them, lest he would break them, for you see, it’s a royal palace and all of it has royal importance. He would ask for a white pony to sit on and then when all of the kingdom would be searched for one and a white pony brought for the royal offspring, Prince would want to ride the Prime Minister. (Bloody inverted paedophile).

His favourite tantrum was, “I’ll hold my breath till I am blue.” And Queen mother and all of Prince’s attendants feared this part the most and complied to his wishes lest he chokes himself.

Once, this wise old baba Bengali came to the palace. Out of royal etiquettes, Prince welcomed the sagacious being into the royal visitors’ room. And then he wanted to peep into the saffron clad being’s cloth bag. By know it had come to be known that Chandrasaw-me from India was on a trek to Letscallitpandharpur. Prince was now going to throw his ‘I’ll hold my breath till I am blue’ tantrum for the cloth bag. Saw-me decided to humour the kid. He winked at the queen and her maids and told Prince that he would not part with the bag, come what may.

Prince filled himself with air and pinched his nose and made his mouth an airtight Tupperware product. The palace watched on, with bated breath. Prince’s face turned red. The queen who had been smiling at the crooked Saw-me was getting anxious now. Prince turned beet-red and then roaring crimson. Saw-me just looked on, amused. The maids were annoyed at him. Saw-me just wasn’t looking at them and if something happened to Prince, they’ll have to forgo Royal employment and the fringe benefits it offered.

Prince’s face turned dark blue and he still held his breath. He went on and on and the colour deepened into altar-purple. The queen had almost rushed in to save her child when Prince went “Poof!!!” stuttering, spluttering and gasping for air, amidst roaring laughter from everyone in the room. He looked up at all the people and slumped into his mother’s arms, which too were quivering with amusement and exhausted relief that her son had finally learnt a lesson, all thanks to Chandrasaw-me. Wink. Wink.

I wonder if breaking ties is that easy? If it was the langot on the neck, it is easy. But, now, my friend, we are talking about human ties, bonds. Let’s not get the word ‘relationship’ into this, for, that takes this monologue into a totally different runway.

By breaking away, you mean ex-communication? Not talking to that person etc?

Great. And what is it that you want to gain from it? Do you realize that it only constricts, restricts the wholeness in your heart? It is but baggage that you keep adding to yourself. You already have enough of it buddy.

If Sudhakar was to talk on this, he’ll surely talk elaborate on the virtues of ‘so what?’

“She told you to go to hell, so what?” “He calls you names behind your back, so what? Does that make you what he calls you? Jhust lhet gho”

It pains me no end to see people severing ties like they were useless burrs that stick to your clothes as you walk through the wild. The reasons could be varied, but I am sure once you let go, it won’t look any bigger than the auto rickshaws that we see from atop Mumbradevi.

Let go of the baggage and just keep busy, hear songs, read-up things, write blogs (like me). You know what song works for me? Queen’s We are the champions. This song rocks, thanks to Freddie Mercury. The rush that I get from it tells me every now and then, “I know what I am, I know my own worth, I am just waiting for the perfect time to hit myself into ‘success’ mode. Aah, the route of immunity.

Um…err…well. Times are not as good as I thought. But they are getting better. That paper did not want me to work with them as a sub-editor. They thought I’m over- qualified for them and told me to write for the Time magazine. Baah! Like I’m going to believe them. And he says, ‘better luck next time’ followed by a smiling smiley.

I still don’t know about Wilson College’s fate. Do they keep me away from it for a whole year or not is still a big question mark in front of my face. Sudhakar cannot muster enough courage to tell me that I have flunked. Well, shit happens.

My b’day rocked! The rocks at Mumbradevi were real big. Me had a great time and of course Arcopol and Rajaji Nath sponsored that part of the great time. Eccentric cake cutting show in public later we headed back home, not really tired by the climb.

The trek to Mumbradevi used to be a challenge. Maybe it still is, if I plan to climb it at one stretch. The last two trips were over-loaded with breaks for bum-rests and oxygen intake. My legs egg me on to push myself out of my reach in a bid to do good for myself.

Have I outgrown this challenge? Where do I search for more physical challenges?

Running early in the morning? Not that the idea did not cross my mind. I know, that will help me tuck my tummy in, but the nasty dawgs that bark at my sight, still give me the creeps.

The decision in college, the pay cheque, shopping for essentials (read shoes, bag, new eye-wear) and may be a film date. Whoa. I really see good times ahead!