Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Security Concern

The Maoists party's claim to deploy the PLL cadres for the security of Prachanda is a bad decision. How can the prime minister use the rebel army when he has already been nominated by the all-inclusive parliament? The PLA is supposed to stay inside the cantonment. The responsibility of taking care of the Prime Minister should be given to the Nepal Army, as it always is. The newly elected PM should not act like a child at a time when the Nepal Army has vowed to act according to the mandate of the people. Nobody should suspect the loyalty of the national army.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

The Politics against Humanity

In a shameful manner the Nepal Police detained a massive number of Tibetan freedom fighters who were raising their voices against the anti-human Chinese government. In a democratic country like Nepal, where freedom of speech and basic human rights are guaranteed in the constitution, the detention of the already tortured Tibetan refugees is an irony in the democratic history of this Himalayan nation. What impact does this unnecessary act have in Nepal's status in international arena when the Chinese invasion is regarded worldwide as a crime against humanity? The govermnents that have suppressed human rights have been turned upside down by the non-violent people's movements. Why does the Nepal Government support the Chinese opressor given the fact?


It seems clear that the Nepal Government is suppressing the homeless Tibetans due to political pressure from Beijing. But, humanity higher and important than politics, it has to understand. Suppressing and torturing the homeless Tibetans, who have already had enough of torture by being drained out from their motherland, is an act that does not suit the country which has emerged as Democratic New Nepal following the historic People's Movement.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Memories

Last bench
Our chautari
The shade
Sani baini
The canteen


simsimey paani
romanchit hriday
timro samjhana

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Knowing

you knew me
when
season didn't know flowers
birds didn't know spring
sky didn't know sun
when
I didn't know
myself

only you
But.

(my fren wrote this on the frenship day)

Friday, August 1, 2008

Buy a New Coat, Read an Old Book

I don't remember when for the first time, but I know her say this when I started to know language. May be she told me this before my teachers said in their loud voices. And, perhaps she said in calm, unirritating voice to make me feel for long that it was the secret of life. “Wear an old coat but buy a new book”, she said. She, my mother.

She does not know who said this at first. She does not, and needs not, bother to, either. Time on, I learnt through my teachers that it was a popular saying by H D Thoreau, overused to turn a cliché. And, later I surmised that she, my mother, learned it through my father who is a teacher. And I assume he gave her some classes on this particular topic so as to keep us children from crying for new clothes. It was only in festivals that I got new clothes without bargain, uniforms let aside. When it was for books, however, I don't remember her letting me down. Interesting enough, I don't remember much asking her for money to buy books, given the not-so-reading boy I was. And, for heaven's sake it never came to me to buy fabrics with the money mother gave me to buy books, the trade my sister was a master in.

It was already very late, I must say, that I could convince her that what she meant by saying me to buy new books instead of new clothes was wrong. One day, I said to her, “Mother, what you are telling me since my childhood is not wrong in its entirety, but the way you interpret it is wrong”. She jerked, “How can I be wrong since I know it as right for years?”. “A person, while making his theory, says right, but with time, and with several interpretations, the meaning gets deviated”, I said to her in a calm voice like hers, adding “People misinterpret it in a way that suits their interest, and the person who fed you this cliché had his own interest. And it is up to you to demolish the pillars of high-sounding notions once you are aware of its drawbacks”. And, knowing that she, at least was going to listen to what I had to say, I started blabbing my own interpretation.

“By saying 'Wear an old coat', it doesn't mean that you should wear age-old rags chewed to holes by mice. It also does not mean that you need to wear dirty clothes with faded colors. What it actually means is that you can wear the same coat time and again. It does not make big difference how many times you wear it”, I said fluently.

I added, “And by 'Buy a new book', it does not mean 'brand new' book with gleaming pages but a different one. And that should be one which you have not read earlier. You may borrow one from the library or from a friend or even buy from a second hand shop. You can read an old book whose cover has already been stripped off”. “But”, I added a dose, “you can not wear a coat whose collar has stripped off even if it is a brand new one with blooming color”.

“Human mind always seeks for things new. Ideas new. News new. Can you listen to the same news everyday? Can you read the same story everyday? You can, if you are obliged to. In odd cases. But, your mind wants to read a different news, a different story each different day”.

“That's true”, she said.

Happy to see her nodding in apprehension, I added, “So, buying a new book is about buying a different book with different idea, text, philosophy. And wearing an old coat does not mean that you cannot wear a new coat. Borrow books, buy used ones at least, as you can not imagine buying used clothes, stinky and sweaty. Save money from what would have been spent in buying new books, and spend buying new clothes. Laddu in both hands”.

And, finally, to my utter gaiety, and as i had expected, she, my mother, announced, “Buy a new coat, read an old book”.

Cigarette, Feminism and the Condom Counter

Who says that a girl is not given equal right at present? She is. She has been alloted seats in government positions, in the transport services; the list goes on. In the University's boy's hostels, she is allowed to enter whenever her mood orders-- quite ironical—a lad is thrown a piercing stare if he happens to be passing side the girl's camp, let alone tresspassing. And this helpless lad consoles himself that his forefathers had enjoyed the phallogocentric times and that it is the duty of the following generations to bear the burden. No wonder girls are speaking loud that they don't need any different facility than that given to boys—thanks.

'Dictatorship of the proletariat' termed Marx when theorizing the later stage of the conflict between the ruling and the working class. In new times, girls are 'cocca doodle do' ing— let me not say 'turning dictators'-- when it comes about puffing cigatettes. They need no pal when they will to light the tip of the CP-- thanks to the Women's Rights Movement of the 1920s. When I am in the Ganga Dhaba sipping a two-and-a-half rupee tea, they throw themselves on the seat my sideward and kill the germs of my nostrils by the larger-than-life nicotine puff. And I frisk sensing that i am going to be a minority species belonging to nowhere.

My heart leaps up seeing people fishing out condoms from the ATC (anytime condom) counter stationed inside the compounds of the University wherein I am recently enrolled."Liberalism"? I guess, this entire development is a lesson of postmodernism. Not only hierarchies are dismantled-- alongwith dismantled are the shame, reservation and hesitation. And this I suppose is a postmodernward walk. Fixations can not be stopped because they have never been, so precautions that knock your door are better accepted before you are eventually knocked off life. People seem to have understood it—and this is a yellow signal coming timesward.