Where Do I Belong? (The SundayPost)

"Down there is the famous Dharahara,…. straight ahead lies the Rani Pokhari ………and a bit on your right is the Ghantaghar….." says our guide and I eagerly look down. I see green everywhere, like a sea covered with green algae, and amongst them I see three squarish looking barren land with a few traces of what seems as rock and rubble. The guide on our cruise-plane sees the disappointment in most of our faces and begins to explain. I don't pay much attention to him. I'm already in my own world of my thoughts. I catch a few of his phrases here and there, understanding only that in the past few decades Nepal has undergone a massive change and metamorphosized into a sanctuary. The rest of what I hear seems gibberish.

In my thoughts, I'm with my parents in the old Nepal somewhere in the mid 2000. We leave for America in an attempt to re-establish ourselves and make a different identity for ourselves. But this was just a misty excuse. Once in the US the sun shone and the mist vanished. We were more bent on keeping our identity than making a new one. Faced with the hardships of everyday life, we cursed the day we left our home back in Nepal. However, we managed and had a life much like in Nepal in our Nepalese community. But what we did is of no major concern. What happened to Nepal from 2010-20 was our concern even in our small Nepalese community in the States. So many people started going abroad that the population of the country was at its lowest. Most had gone to the neighbouring Asian countries but nevertheless they had abandoned their motherland. In addition to that, most of these did not return. Instead they got a citizenship of that country. Nepal's foreign aid was also climbing up. So what happened ??? I've asked myself this question a thousand times but still I've never quite got the answer. I admit…..(sprattle..chug…..). "ugh…!", I say in disgust. The guide tells us - a bit embarrassed - " hee…hee…hee…corruption. Never quite goes away does it!" ( damn it! Why can't the government be more careful with only a few thousand people to look after. Let's continue.) I admit that Nepal was huge on debt and high on foreign aids but that doesn't mean that the powerful could do such a thing to our country and our pride. What they did was a huge backlash to our pride. The countries got together, took advantage of the political instability, and named Nepal as the worlds only and biggest - 'International Wildlife Park '. The words 'only' and 'biggest' were supposed to be a sort of consolation or a form of international pride. But, what pride is there when it makes you feel like you sold out your own country. They made a mockery of us and we were supposed to join in the fun. The surprising thing is that we did! There was a mutual and written agreement from both parties as the Government of Nepal and the Representative for the International Countries exchanged contracts and had a grand party to rejoice such an occasion. But rejoice they did, my foot! they rejoiced the end of our country and the dawn of their own country, a country they could manipulate and use.

" Coming up you will see the beautiful Phewa lake and if you look carefully you can see……." His voice trails off as I continue my conversation with my thoughts. Then what happened? I think. Then what else was to happen. The government gave the rest of the people, except for the few thousand, a new citizenship and sent them off to foreign land to start a new life. Most of the other countries agreed to grant citizenship to the Nepalese already present. And a few others had to be convinced with a bit of the earning that came from the tourists that visited the 'International Wildlife Park'. I don't think I'd ever seen such an unanimous agreement by powerful countries.

My thoughts take me to another aspect of the matter as I watch some of the kids in the cruise-plane eagerly looking out of the window and asking questions to their parents. What am I supposed to tell my children when they ask about their true homeland. Will I be telling them that I grew up in what is now a jungle. That - where now the animals sleep I used to sleep and where animals now play was where I used to pray. And what about their ancestry? Do I tell them that there is pride in once belonging to a country which is now an international sanctuary. Whatever I tell them I guess I'll be back to square one - no Nepal, so where do I belong?

Stereotypical Business

Laziness has its own virtues. After being a couch potato for most of a his life, Ladduram, definitely found himself in a fix when he realized that there are people who rely on him. Fuelled by the basic necessities of himself and his family he found that lazing around with a spare tyre round his waist wouldn't do him any good. His wife's nagging finally put him on his feet and for the first time in his life he found himself trying to stand on his own two feet.

The most debated topic in school used to be - ' Women and education'. Each year the same topic would appear in the exams - but with different names like - write an essay, prepare a debate for or against, etc…. He had most definitely sided with all his peers in saying that women needed education. Without understanding what he was saying he had memorized the essay itself. Had it been debates he would have been able to rattle off - women and men are created equal, they are the two wheels of the same vehicle, what if something happens to the husband, they must be able to stand on their own feet,… and what not. No wonder the impartial examiner naturally bestowed high marks upon him and lo and behold! Ladduram had passed SLC with flying colors.

But the iron gate isn't everything. After the iron gate comes a silver gate, a golden gate, and lots of other gates. It won't do anyone any good just to sit around waiting for the keys to be brought to him. But alas Laddu had spent his time after SLC waiting for the keys to drop on his lap. Sitting on his sofa, watching cable TV, living on his fathers bread had not just made him a great ball of fat but also given him stretch marks. Each day he sat there watching TV, hearing health hazards of being a couch potato. But like all of us the useful things went through one ear and passed out either through the other ear or through his mouth, giving advice where not required. His fattiness was not just a mixture of food and slouching around but also contained the junk that the TV gave him. Doubtful it was that one day the radiation would turn him into a super fat guy.
So now Laddu found himself without education and after his fathers death without a money plant, and if he didn't get up and earn some money he would pretty soon find himself without a wife too. And if he didn't start working soon enough he'd have to start paying alimony with the little money he had.

He had a roof above his head and with that he began to think. 'Well,', he thought,' I've got a house, and clothes. That's two necessities I needn't be wary of. The only thing I need to worry about is food.' Obviously Laddu wasn't a farmer, after all who in the city has a vegetable garden big enough to feed one through the entire year. Of course there's the family business. But Laddu wasn't the type to go into the stereotypical son-follow-fathers-business. He wasn't ready to put out a sign that read 'Laddu & Sons'. So now he put his thinking cap on.
He thought and thought. Then finally - Eureka!
He'd found the solution. He would add a couple of storey to his house and give the rooms for rent. To him it was a grand idea. It didn't matter to him that his house had drinking water problem, or that the weight of another storey would weaken his houses old structure. No….. for all Laddu cared the house would rake in lots of money. Even at the cheapest price his small rooms would fetch quite some money. He dreamt on.

So now that Laddu has found a nice source of income, Laddu is still a couch potato, watches cable all day. It's been ages since he last took a bath but what to do - no water. The tenants and their children scream all day and night, but he is deafened by the money. For all he can see is the money raking in and the TV staring at him. His wife is still nagging him. His children are becoming more like him. He has two spare tyres around his waist and probably would be a good sample of the - made in Nepal tyres. The only addition is a spectacle upon his nose.
In fact he himself has become quite a spectacle, because from where I stand he looks just like cousin of the four legged P.I.G.

Be Good: Consumerist's 10 Commandments of Credit - Consumerist

Be Good: Consumerist's 10 Commandments of Credit - Consumerist

Catch and release

This fishing trip was supposed to a "Catch and Release", but when we finally did catch one huge black drum, it didn't turn out that way -- not after it had been hooked to get on the boat.
It was past 7:30 pm and we were getting sick of waiting for the fish to take bait. Black drums apparently are bottom feeders, so we had used mussels as bait tied onto the fishing line and set at the bottom.
We were sitting in the Cheseapeake Bay - rocking to and fro in a boat -- waiting for the fish to bite. We had been there since 1 pm that Saturday. After not getting any kind of fish for couple of hours the captain asked if anyone had a banana. My first reaction was -- 'is he going to use it as bait?'. Brad had one in his lunch box, so he went and brought a yellow, ready to eat, banana. The captain took and tossed it into the sea. Apparently it wasn't bait. He told us that bananas are unlucky on a boat. I had heard people in the sea were superstitious, but this was my first experience.
I had washed my hand in the cold water before. In fact a couple of minutes after we had anchored. Well my hands were sort of dirty because I had just puked and there was some in my hands. Washed off I had taken some medicine and rubbed some kind of liquid that smelled like chinese vicks on the back of my earlobes -- the mate said it would help with the sea sickness. Sure enough after that first vomiting bout I felt just as great as everyone -- ready to fish.
And apparently the banana had done its part. The captain started reeling one of the poles in -- 'Yippie fish finally'. Superstition or not, we had a fish and John was fighting it. He slowly reeled it in fighting it. But just at the last moment the fish sensed the slack and with a strong flick it broke the reel and headed off into the open.
That was the first likely fish and it looked like a big one when it was close. Couple of minutes later another line started to act funny. By now we knew when a fish was nibbling. One of the guys took it and started fighting it. When it was near the boat we saw it wasn't quite as big as the one that got away, still young. But this shared the same fate and broke the line.
We were quite disappointed. By now it was about 5 pm and we were getting tired of the beer and the sea. Suddenly another movement in one of the lines and whoa I took control.
I got the fishing rod and started reeling in the slack, occasionaly leaning back. I reeled and leaned and reeled and leaned. It was now quite near and we were ready to bring it in.
It was a bull ray -- oops! wrong fish.
Not catching anythign is disappointing but catching the wrong fish can be quite a gruesome experience. The mate brought the ray in and got a pair of pliers. The fish had apprently swallowed the hook and it was deep inside it. He took the pliers and twisted its jaws. Blood. He grabbed a tip of the hook and pulled. It wouldn't come out but instead more blood. God! He finally just cut the line and released the fish. The ray plopped back in and swam deep.
Sorry fish.
We got some fish occasionally but it all turned out to be sharks and rays, so we were disappointed and just looking at the sea. The captain had nevere had such a slow day, he was getting anxious.
Just when we were ready to leave, a fish on one of the lines. John took the rod and started fighting it and reeling it in. When it was quite near we saw it was a BIG one. The mate and the captain took hooks and brought the fish on board. It was a big black drum. We were not disappointed anymore. God that was good. We took some pictures and the engine started roaring.
Five minutes later we were at the docks and measuring the fish. The fish came around 77 lbs and from the looks of it the captain was saying it was probably almost 50 years old. Big. But there was one problem -- we didn't know what to do with it. We figured the captain and the mate would keep it. But it was too big of a fish to keep. So it was in our hands.
We took the fish and put it in the back of the truck. It was wide as the truck.
We got home not knowing what to do and asked around if someone knew what to do with it. But nothing. Well couldn't quite keep the fish like that could we? So we drove to the grocery store to get some ice.
Lucky for us a fisherman was there. He looked at it and was quite surprised. The fish he had caught was smaller. He said he would take it off our hands but would pay any money for it. Glad to have it off our hands. We let him have it.
Finally our 77lb ordeal was over with and with hands smelling like fish we drove to McDonalds.

p.s. Only one fish was killed during the whole ordeal and I am glad that the fish did not go to waste. Rest in Peace Big Black Drum in fish heaven.