शाकी ने फिरसे मेरा जाम भरदिया…..

 

Life is a Big shining wine glass and it rocks when it is filled with sparkling splashing sweet red wine. Lately my glass had gone dry, torrid and about to explode(you know how delicate it is),but,the God’s grace worked wonder, my parching glass was replenished with red sweet wine with such a generosity . And now everything feels renewed, life’s re-smeared with fresh tender pink.Tipsy tipsy..this is a beautiful feeling.

Thanks for the “I love you”.

Cow in Calf…..

   

Metaphors

 
  I’m a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf’s big with its yeasty rising.
Money’s new-minted in this fat purse.
I’m a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I’ve eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.
Sylvia Plath

While trying to write something the other night, I suddenly remembered this poem and I am heavily obsessed……..This is exactly what I am feeling right now.Sylvia Plath wrote this poem when she was expecting her last child..No no..my case is not Pregnency ,not it of course..but It’s more like expecting something, conceiving something ..and feeling like boarded the train there’s no getting off…and exactly word by word what this poem says…..

कति बेरको सपनी – कतिन्जेलको साथको कुरा!
जति बेरको सपनी – तेतिन्जेलको साथको कुरा!!

Nati Binodini

A heart-Wringing   ride

 I think; people who adore theatre might have hardly missed this ride, for there was an overwhelming flush of audience in the Nachghar last Wednesday. It was a remarkably portrayed play that took the spectators along its heightening, widening and deepening emotional flux.

The story is an autobiography of a low-birth concubine, Binodini, who develops affection for theatre so much so that she dedicates herself to the theatre abandoning the colorful and affluent life of a Kept. She truly respects that divine world of theatre where women like her are enlightened by the deep knowledge of world’s best plays; the philosophy, the truth, the sense of humanity and divinity underlying in the masterpieces of Shakespeare and Milton. Theatre tends to anchor them out of the deep crevasse of flesh-market. But things do not go as expected; Binodini again has to sell her flesh for the price of the theatre building. “If the sale of my flesh, once and for all, can put this flesh-market to an end forever, then it’s worth it”, she thinks, and submits herself to the malice. However, to her chagrin, the history rejects the enormity of this sacrifice. Even her master urges her to distort the reality and present only the rosiness of her theater-life in that autobiography, Amar Katha.

The main plot is simple. It drags throughout. The main tension is simple. It hooks. Opulent costumes. It evokes the memories of those good-old-Indian days. Enchanting music; hypnotizing, tear-triggering. Excellent scripting, that reminds Tagore’s elaborative, metaphoristic style. Acting that squeezes heart, that sneaks deep into the mind and encompasses all the senses. The brilliant acting was the heart of the play, those uncanny portrayals of the layers of the womanhood and the sufferings. Unfailing lighting, choreography, direction, casting and all.

Written, directed, acted and crew-majored by women, it mainly permeates some kind of feministic aura. To build the world as it is today, women had had to sacrifice a lot, be it the Goddesses, or the mothers or the prostitutes of every time and everyplace; the play propels to think. Somewhere it reminds of “Vagina Monologues’”, the rebel against the battering and shattering of womanhood. Hats off to Amar Allana, the directress.

The legendry artist Kiran Manandhar Painted an abstract art after seeing the play. And I, too, penned abstract lines after seeing that. Let’s read:    

O! My thousand-petaled woman

Watch out for the wind

That’ll disentangle the thousand-pollens

Or, you’ll be crimson and done for

Management is a Common Sense

With my little knowledge of the time and space, I recently came into the conclusion that “Management is a common sense”. And I lack common sense.

Back to college days, Management used to be the most stupid subject. Planning, Managing, Communicating, evaluating; it talked mainly the clichés, platitudes and themes that we already know. Management teachers always talked a lot, pretending it to be something like a rocket-science and normally in embarrassing English. A teacher used to pronounce “chaos” as “चावोज” .And it used to be one of those merciless subjects that offered no good marks no matter how good you write in exams. This was my impression during those days, full of teen-arrogance.

But as the time and space moved on, I grew older and now I feel like being trapped in the jigsaw of mismanagement. Today, I remember those management teachers with a great awe, I remember Dhruba Sir, Geeta Ma’m…feel sorry for that stupid vain, Those volumes of Griffith and Panta…those beautiful pointations of goal-setting, SWOT analysis, Communication-chain, Organizational structure and all .Though I quit the class before long, I am glad that some concepts are deeply engrained in my mind and I feel myself more or less “management-literate”.

Yet, everything boils down to “doing “it, not merely to “learning” it. At office…I work stupidly…Just rushing around and finishing the work only at the 11th hour. My brother always castigates me for my poor management of time. My ex-boss’s main complain also used to be the mismanagement, of time, of resources, of work. It’s been really tough, since long. My mismanagement has grown too much to handle.

In the midst of this lamentation, there was a good news that I was attending a “project management” training provided by my own organization. It was a nice experience. I realized how very it is important to re-know what you know so that you truly accept and internalize that knowledge. You make points and you present it but it makes no sense unless you relate those points to your exact work. Knowing what you are going to do, doing it perfectly sans overrunning the resources and finally being proud of what you have produced or rendered at the end of the day. This is all what management is…but it’s so difficult to “do” it as it should be “done”. Hopefully, one day I will be able to catch up with this charismatic theory “Management” in practice.

For sometimes, I thought this “management” thing is not my cup of tea. It’s the Management Board’s. I hated managing big things and I hated to be a manager, I would rather love to be an elementary school teacher.  And for sometimes, managing things was even the “sour grapes” for me .But lately, I am realizing how important it is to manage things, even the little things of day to day life. I m realizing that Managing things does not mean working harder, it does not mean documenting everything, it does not mean poking noses in other’s business. I think, it’s more like a common sense, like keeping your senses open while working and doing your work more cutely, neatly, swiftly and most important of all,  enjoyably. And It’s a high time for me to develop a “common sense”.

A Sigh…..

Whenever the Path forked,

I opted for the darker one

And kindled myself,

With the quivering flame

I kept on melting away

Till the last cube of wax

But I saw you nowhere

Lo! The wind blew me away

Saga of a dreamer and enterprenuer….

 

(An extract from my research report )

महाविर पुन अमेरिका बाट उच्च अध्ययन सकाएर आफ्नै गाउँ फर्कनुभयो, किनभने उहाँको जागिर खाएर बस्ने स्वभाव थिएन।उहाँलाई विचार र कामको स्वतन्त्रता मनपर्थ्यो। 

अमेरिका या काठमान्डु या चितवन या पोखरामा बसेको भए जागिर खाएर बस्नुपर्थ्यो तर म्याग्दीको नागीं गाउँ उहाँको लागि यस्तो ठाउँ थियो जहाँका मान्छेहरुले उहाँको कुरा सुन्थे र मनन गर्थे र जे जसो गरे पनि उहाँलाई त्यो गाउँमा दुइछाक खान दुख हुदैनथ्यो। अमेरीका बाट फर्केपछी सामुदायिक कार्यमा स्वयमसेवीको रुपमा काम गर्न उहाँ गाउँ फर्कनुभयो। त्यहा एउटा सानो सुचना पनि एक गाउँबाट अर्को गाउँमा पुराउन एक घन्टा देखी एक दिन हिड्नुपर्थ्यो। विदेशमा रहेका आफ्ना साथीभाईहरुलाई इमेल पठाउन उहाँ महिनाको एकपटक एक दिन पुरै हिडेर अनि बसमा चढेर पोखरा आइपुग्नुहुन्थ्यो। आफैलाई संचार को सारै समस्या परेपछि उहाँलाई लाग्यो ,“हाम्रो गाउँमा पनि इन्टरनेट किन नपुराउने ? “

 सुरुमा यो त एउटा सपना मात्र थियो किनभने नागीं गाउँमा बिजुली थिएन, टेलिफोन थिएन, सबभन्दा नजिकको सडक पनि सातघन्टा टाढा थियो। कम्प्युटर र इन्टरनेटमा विशेष रुचि राख्नुहुने महाविरले भर्खर भर्खर बिश्व संचारजगतमा वाई फाई प्रविधी सुरु भएको मेसो पाउनु भएको थियो। हुनत त्यो प्रविधी एउटा घर या केहि सय मिटरको दुरीलाई मात्र जोड्न सक्ने थियो। तर महाविर भित्रको स्वप्नद्रष्टालाई लाग्यो , यो प्रविधी लामो दुरी मेट्न पनि सक्षम छ। उहाँभित्रको उद्यमीलाई लाग्यो , परिक्षण सफलता असफलताको रिश्क लिनैपर्छ र उहाँभित्रको कर्मविरलाई लाग्यो, काम गर्नेपर्छ र सफल अवश्य होइन्छ। Continue reading

सिसीफस

 ओ, आजको सिसीफस

ईतिहासबाट पाठ सिक

भगवानसँग विद‍ोह नगर

प्रेमिकाको परिक्षा नलेऊ

सांसारिकताको मोह नराख

नत्र,

 तिमी पनि हिजोकै सिसीफस बनौला

प्रेमपिडाको बोझ बोकेर,

यूगदेखी यूगसम्म

जिवन-पहाड; उक्लदै ओर्लदै

बधाई

अभिशेक,रन्जन र अन्जन, दायाँबाट

अभिशेक,रन्जन र अन्जन, दायाँबाट

रन्जन फर्ष्ट भएछ।दुई कक्षाको पहिलो त्रैमासिक परिक्षामा।मिहिनेत गरे भाग्य बदल्न सकिन्छ भन्ने कुरा you are teaching me boss!I am proud of you…Keep up this spirit but सरले भन्दैहुनुहुन्थ्यो “भँगेरा जत्रो अक्षरलाई चामल जत्रो बनाउ ”  खाली कार्टुनमात्र नहेर ।Never forget that, Jupiter is the biggest planet…but only of our solar system . अनि अन्जन, भाई बाट केहि सिक यार । मान्छे naturally talented भएर मात्र हुदैन मिहिनेत पनि गर्नुपर्छ ।अभिशेक….तिम्रो ताल नि भएन यार । You are the best among 3,you know so many things but  पढाईमा मेहनत गर न । प्लिज ।   तैपनि तिनैजनालाई बधाई छ ।

नौलो क्रान्ति-1

This story is again from long time back,when the conflict was in its climax.This is written for a special purpose..it is more a development story(rather than pure literary)..So..Please enjoy..and I will complete it in another episode)

 

बस रोकिन्छ ।ऊ ओर्लिन्छ । दुवै आ-आफ्नै गन्तब्यतिर लाग्छन । ऊ अनि बस । उनीहरु छुट्‌टीदाखेरी बीचमा एउटा साठी डिग्रीको कोण बन्छ ।

छ बजेछ । आठबजे त घर कसो नपुगिएला । तेतिबेला भान्सा उठिसकेको हुनेछ । केहि छैन, गुन्द्रुक जिन्दावाद । मुग्लिनको सोडा हालेको भातलाई पनि धन्यवाद, अहिलेसम्म भोक लागेको छैन । फेरि ऊ घरिघरि भोक लागिरहने मान्छे पनि होइन किनकी ऊ खानका लागी बाँच्दैन । गाडी डिजेल खानकालागी गुड्छ र ? ऊ अगि आएको मिनीबस तल घुम्तीमा पुगिसकेछ ।

आजको यो उकालो सातवर्ष अगाडि ऊ काठमान्डु जानलाग्दा ओरालो थियो । एउटै बाटो कहिले उकाली त कहिले ओराली बनेर तेर्सिदिन्छ । अचम्म । जिवनपनि यस्तै हो । यसबिचमा आँधीखोलामा निकै पानी बग्यो र रगत पनि । बाग्मतीमा ढल बगेझैं । भैगो, यो सब समयको खेल हो ।

ऊ आज गाउँ फर्किएको छ । केहि ज्ञान,अनुभव र एउटा नौलो क्रान्तिको सोच लिएर। क्रान्तिको नाम सुन्ने वित्तिकै झस्कनेहरु धेरै छन यहाँ । क्रान्ति भनेको बन्दुक, ढुंगामुढा, पार्टीको झण्डा या अराजकता होईन भनेर उनीहरुलाई बुझाउन निकै गाह्रो पर्नेछ उसलाई । तर त्यो असंभव छैन ।

ब्यक्तिगत, आर्थिक र शैक्षिक उन्नतिलाई जिन्दगीको प्रमुख मुद्दा बनाएर देशभरीका लाखौं यूवाहरु काठमान्डु भासिए । विदेश जानेहरुको त झन् कुरै नगरौं । उनीहरु पद र पैसाका लागी बाँचे । तर ऊ केहि अलग किसिमले,केहि अलग प्रयोजनका लागी बाँच्न चाहन्छ । त्यसैले, आफ्ना प्रत्येक जिजीविषालाई स्वाभिमानी र सार्थक तुल्याउन ऊ आज गाउँ फर्कदैं छ। काठमान्डुका लागी ऊ बोझ थियो, गाउँका लागी खाँचो ।

ऊ निकै रोएकी थिई उसले गाउँले फर्कने निर्णय लिंदा । अँ ऊ को भने; उसकी साथी भन्दा थोरै बढि र प्रेमिका भन्दा थोरै कम । यस्तो नाताको कुनै परिभाषा छैन । प्रस्ताव नराखेको होईन उसले । तर जतिसुकै गहिरो प्रेमको बाचा हालेपनि यो पहाडी पाखोमा आएर एउटा सामान्य जिन्दगी बिताउन तयार भइन् ऊ । केही छैन, प्रेमलाई त्यति पनि लम्ब्याउनुहुदैन ताकि त्यो पट्यारलाग्दो बनोस् । आखिर प्रेम कुनै अंकुश हैन । यो रक्तपातमा के? मर्न जाने गाउँमा? उसले तर्क राखेकी थिई। तर खोक्रो ।पलायनवादीको आक्षेप लगाउन पनि भ्याई उसले । मोरी! कस्ती घमण्डी ।

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