Kathmandu today

I woke up at 5 30 AM today and marched straight to New Road. Took photos in between.

Motorbike in action.

This is how the plants are watered on the streets!

Oh he doesn't care!

Isolation

Run!

The stores are yet to open

Marching.

Fact: I have probably walked 5000 Km around Kathmandu- exploring.

I grew up in a house where walking has been regarded as the best form of exercise. Be it post lunch, dinner or a midday nap on a sunny Saturday, we have always managed to scrape out time from our busy schedules for a walk. This is how I learned to love Kathmandu amidst the walks with my father- which is hard to keep up with-, a stroll with my grandfather- who walks as slow as a turtle- or a one by myself.

I prefer walking to using any form of transports. With earphones plugged in deep, playing music and keeping me company as my footsteps match the beat of the song. When my shoes barely last a month, my mother often asks me, ‘Why walk so much?’ The answer to this is very simple- with walking, it is the journey that is the destination- and for someone who is best defined as a wanderer, nothing can be compared to the walk.  

Have you ever walked around Kathmandu and almost bumped onto a cow because you were too busy admiring the artefacts and the people all around you? I have, several times. I have almost been run down by speeding vehicles that explode past the zebra crossing like Olympic runners! Walking forcefully slows you down and lets you admire the beauty that a place holds- as of now, Kathmandu. It lets you notice the puppy chasing every bird in sight, the old cobbler sitting across the street with glasses shoved up high on his head, the flock of birds flying above you, the marvellous and detailed street art and other people walking down the street- close to a theatrical drama.

Had I driven through the city, where walking would take you from point A to B much more conveniently than being stuck in a traffic, I would have missed 90 % of what I found: the swarming life of the city’s backstreets, its parks and playgrounds, its outdoor and indoor eateries — all this would have remained invisible to me.

A quick question- how well do you know Kathmandu? If your only experience of crossing the city is a hectic commute, you're missing out.

Put on your fancy shoes and go out for a walk!

gloom

Seasons~

He said, “You make every season seem beautiful.

You are the warmth that makes me face up to the sky and smile as the sunshine brightens a cold day.

You are the rush of clouds that gives me shade from the blistering sun while lying low on the green grass.

You are the colorful flowers springing all around that make my heart scream with happiness.

And you are the leaves that cover Earth making a walk in the woods worthwhile.”

Incomplete post about my stay in India.

I moved to New Delhi, India temporarily almost 4 years ago. With a bright yellow rucksack and a red suitcase following my steps, I came to India full of dreams, fear and anxiety. All of the stories about India, the people, food, well- just everything about India made my heart quiver.

Back home in Nepal, we are used to making fun of India- well Indians to be precise. We would laugh at their accent, their head shakes, their food, etc. Of course nothing could beat how cool we Nepalese are- I will get back to this later.

India, Bharat, Hindustaan.

At first, I used to grumble about everything that came by my way. Food, people, transport, telecom, clothes- I was not happy at all. zero satisfaction- ZERO. I used to Skype with friends back home and cry. Cry until my eyes were bloodshot red. I had a hard time getting used to everything there- the internet was not as fast, the burgers weren't as cheesy as the TV commercials portrayed.

 However, with time I figured out that Chole Bhature was my soul food. Gurudwara BanglaSahib was my favorite hangout place, swearing in Hindi was the one thing I was extremely good at, my best friend loved me more than her Indian friend (Of course she has to, I am a cool Nepali! This information wasn't necessary. But just saying!). At one point of time, I managed to fool at least 5 people by telling them that I am the princess of Nepal. Haha. It seems strange how three years went by in an blink of an eye.

After spending so much time in India, speaking in Hindi, commuting for hours and hours just to get to work and eating all sorts of masalas and doing everything that an Indian would do, I came back to Nepal. And right now as I am typing this down- I am sad. I am very very sad. I miss India terribly. I miss speaking in Hindi. I miss rikshaws. I miss deliciously cheap food in each and every nook ad corner of the streets. I miss local lemon soda. I miss my roommate. She was the best thing that happened to me. Sneha, if you are  reading this- always remember that you are the best. I miss the lazy Sunday mornings with you. My mother would kill me but nothing can beat you in the kitchen. I love you. So much. You are more like a sister from another mother belonging to another nationality- always there for me. I wish I was there with you commuting  back home from work- eyeing every seat in the metro hoping someone would get up.

My eyes are all teary now. Bye.

P.S. I read somewhere about India's full form being I'll Never Do it Again.
Well, I would say- I will do India over and over and over again.

Extra colorful Rajisthan and Camels!

The excitement of being in a Desert and seeing the animal that was mostly known as “Ship of the Desert” – both for the first time was enthralling!

It started off as an office trip. (I have a cool office which often takes photo enthusiasts on expeditions.) This was the first trip as a company and there was so much work to do and my feet were barely on the ground. (Note: Anyone who knows me would easily see how excited I get with small things.) However, by the time the dates on our train tickets collided with that on the Calendar, I was worn out and so not looking forward to seeing a camel to say hello.

Excitement

Fast forwarding everything to me stepping out of the bus into the desert-- The excitement was back with a big bang! There was sand everywhere! It wasn’t as flat as I thought it would be but it was desert! And since we planned on a trip to the Pushkar Fair, there were colorful camels everywhere. The phrase, “Rajisthan- the land of colors” did justice to everything there. Men clad in big turbans and women dressed in sarees that had possibly all the bright colors on it- Rajisthan was a rainbow state!

The fair invited people from all over the world and was swarmed with charmers and performers. If I got to judge the Charmers and give a title to the “Best Charmer”, it would go out to a team comprising of a small girl, her master and a snake! The snake was just an object and the master had his hands around a microphone. The girl was on the sand, moving swiftly in the famous Naagin pose that has been depicted well in Bollywood movies. The story behind her acting like a retarded snake was this: The snake's soul/ Spirit had taken over the girl's body. This was absurd! Trust me. It was a funny sight- a very funny sight!

Moving on to the colorful camels- Some camels were so fashionable, that they still managed to follow the animal print trend on their skin. The light brown camels were fabricated to the extent that they looked like a version of Lady Gaga wearing leopard printed clothes and colorful hat/ accessories. Not to forget all the ladies had their noes pierced with the fanciest nose rings I could have imagined. Not humans, Camels!

Later in the evening, we visited one of Brahma(The creator of the world- according to Hindu mythology)'s wives' temple on top of a hill. And everything from there was beautiful, breath taking, alluring, mesmerizing, magnificent- well all the synonyms for beautiful. The whole city was lit up- from the Giant Wheels at the fair to the beautiful temple with its reflection on the pond nearby and all the houses decorated with lights for the great Camel Festival, it was all so magical.

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Dreams

I landed in a new place- full of hopes and dreams of conquering the world. Expecting to get hold of that big dream I had been chasing since a small girl. Dreams- they are weird things. They almost look like you have it all and in a mere second you are back to reality- the whitewashed work station- staring into the computer screen hearing yourself type down words.

I still dream of making it really big someday. My personality gives people a different perception about my skills. Being loud and full of pent up energy does  not possibly mean that I would be bad at what I do. Sporting a big heart necklace with a turtle neck tee-shirt today, I decided to update my blog because a dear friend linked my own website- which seems so empty now.

Life these days follow the same pattern- Alarm, shower, oats, train, university, work, phone calls, train, home, dinner. Add on to plenty of Facebook in between. I cannot imagine a day without that social networking site.

Getting back to dreams, I recently got a comment about my writing skills. I do not write to impress anybody. I write for myself- because I am not a very good talker when the topic is my life. I have not yet decided what I want to do with my life- yet. Maybe I am young- still to decide anything. Soon, hopefully. But whatever I plan to do- I shall do it with all of my heart and energy and I will enjoy what I do.

Thats it. Chow!

World

Expectations kill you- this was my Facebook status a few months back.

I made a statement. I thought I understood the fact mentioned on MY status. But it seemed that it was just a thought that was fleeting momentarily like plenty of other thoughts that crowd my mind.  Right now, I sat down with my legs crossed, thinking I would be able to achieve what I tend to write. It is all so confusing.

Life itself is confusing. I wish I was happier, I wish I was living in the mountains with free Wifi and Instagram and a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows to burn later when the moon was us in the sky on bonfire. A nice dog- probably a Tibetan Mastiff and a hammock for warm days along with my favorite book underneath an apple tree. I am full of complaints. People who follow me on social networking sites think that I live an awesome life, with all the travelling, the new pixie haircut, and the photos that I share- but in reality I am like an empty shell inside. I love how the girl living in Thailand soaks up the sun under a big umbrella in the beach every day. I envy the guy who knows how to cook and posts pictures of delicious food every day. I wish I had a healthy body- not slim and skinny. I wished for so long time ago but with time I had to get used to the love handles that bulge every time I wear the XS underwear that I own. And I still can’t get myself to go to the Small or Medium sections of a clothing store. I landed myself in a new workplace. Full of warm and happy faces. Its amazing, keeps me busy and on my toes. I wish my lover boy living in the other side of the world would come, give me a hug and plant a kiss on my cheeks and tell me that we were together for once- for real. It is not a happy feeling- to be plugged into the walls.

This is just me rambling about everything that comes into my mind.

Tale about my shoe

Like you, I have stories to tell. From stories about how I managed to survive after swallowing a coin or  stories from the time I was obsessed with Britney Spear's "Hit me baby one more time"- I have plenty to tell. Today I choose to write about my shoes. 

I don't fancy wearing pretty shoes. As long as they take me from point A to B, which might leave them ragged and tattered but they love to be worn. I have around 12 pair of shoes, neatly stacked in the old rack I bought from a used furniture store last month. The variety might shock you- from boots to 6 inches heels and the comfortable converse; not to forget the floaters, plumps, deck shoes and my favorite slippers - plus much much muucch more. I might not sport all of them often enough but each one has a story to tell. A special story. We spend most of our lives walking. Even when you are typing a  "I love you too babbyyy" text to your lover or when you are eating the delicious burger from around the corner, the shoes have all the stories with them. As I type this, there are stories popping up in my head like mushrooms- giving me a pleasant smile . 

The shoe that gave me a blister, the one that was an inch loose or the one that made my ugly feet look pretty for once- they all have stories to tell. 

From the day my wallet got stolen in Chandni Chowk. One of Delhi's most crowded markets.

Cross legged.

You cant sit with your legs crossed.

You refrain from sitting on the floor.

You you you. 

There is no "WE" in food!

Maybe after I'm done with my share, you can have mine. If, my tummy feels full that is. Muhahaha. 

You are a lie

You are the one who sings me to sleep.
You will tell me truths and half-truths and things that are nearly lies, so that i will rest at last.
For some they are falsehoods.
For some, they are hope.

Tigerrrr.

Explains how I feel. 

Mogwai- Take me somewhere nice

Ghosts in the photograph
Never lied to me
I'd be all of thatI'd be all of that
A false memoryWould be everythingMy denial, my eliminent
What was that for?What was that for?
What would you doIf you saw spaceshipsOver Glasgow?Would you fear them?
In every aircraftIn every cameraAnd there's a wish thatWasn't granted
What was that for?What was that for?
Try to be badTry to be bad

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luM6oeCM7Yw

Selfish world

People just need you when they have nobody else.

We live in a selfish world.

Sisterhood

They reminded  me of my sister.
I wish I could stay young, forever

Need more time.

I was forced to wake up this morning by the bossy alarm on my mobile phone.
You don't really remember the "To Do" list as soon as you are up. And as I laze around staring at the fan spinning round and round on my ceiling, I remembered about my test. Then I remembered about Alisha's birthday. Then about 20 artists I was supposed to talk to from work. Then I remembered about the write up I had to submit in my other work place.

Sigh. Right now, I am living my life to the fullest. Fun, work, Education (NOT!) Friends and amazing food. Although, I wish I had more time. More time to meet friends, more time to complete my assignments on time, more time to prepare for my test, more time to skype with my friends back home.

I need time. I feel like housefly with a lifespan of 15 days.

I need sleep now. Chow!

Letters.

I usually always choose to write than speak over something. There are some things that are best when spoken of while some things are better expressed in the plain words that appear on the screen along with thoughts that shoot up. My life today is 75% virtual, with my heart 1078.2Kms away while my feet are planted firmly in a temporary home that I built with time. So, getting back to the mail reason that made me write this post:  For all the sentences I wrote by bringing letters together, I wish you replied.

I wish you wrote back. Photo: deviantArt.com

hugmeplease

I want a hug.
Not because I’m lonely and miserable but I want a hug- just for the heck of it. 

Hugs are like the spring rain in the forest- comforting people, making them happy, turning teary goodbyes into promises to meet soon. I was talking to a friend about hugs a few days back. It was then I realized- I have never been hugged- or I just don’t remember them. A few taps on the back, a small hand gesture- well they are not hugs are they? Neither with lovers nor friends. Not that I stink and no one comes near me- well I hope not.

Right now, as I am living alone in this empty flat with literally no human contact for the past two days, I want love. I want someone to stand up and tell me, “Ey! Yes you, stop being miserable and get up for a big warm hug.” Maybe because right now I am emotionally unstable, I haven’t cooked in days or mopped my floor, been letting the mosquitoes suck into my blood, I stare at the colorful wires springing out of the unkempt bulbs. Well for all these reasons and more, I want a hug.

Tale about me and Sandwich.

I make amazing Sandwich.
The one that melts in your mouth making your tongue smack with constant mmhs & aahhs. The one that give you ultimate food-orgasm until you nibble the edge of it.

I was reading an article about relationships where a paragraph about men and their ego and how it relates with "Go make my sandwich". Then something in my brain went PING! I dont have anyone to make a sandwich for. Someone who is so talented in making sandwiches is not being asked to make one. Haha! Not that I am dying without a lover and I am taking my last breath as I am typing this article. But having been in a relationship for too long never did give me the freedom I have now. Obviously I do miss the cuddling and the cheesy love texts that woke me up every morning but right now, is the time when I assume is the time I am exploring myself. Getting to know myself better. Having someone would maybe help more but its not a loss either. After all, I came alone in this world and I cant leave it holding hands, hugging the love of my life with me. So, for now- I will make delicious sandwich with cheese, mayo, mustard sauce, lettuce, egg, garlic, onions,  bacon, salami and everything possible and make my tummy happy.

Thankyou for reading.
Now go make him a sandwich or ask her to make a sandwich!

:D

Tangled

Holi 2013. 

And in this world, where nothing else is true.

Here I am.
Still tangled up in You.
Still tangled up in You.

Bara~s

 A colleague who has been to Nepal 4 times was telling me about Bara-s today. Starting that very moment, I just cannot stop thinking about the batter that sizzles on the big griddle glistening with mustard oil. My mouth is literally watering right now. 

Nepali food.

I have not tried many cuisines but I can state that Nepali food is the best thing on Earth with a guarantee. Be it DDC’s strawberry flavored Lassi or like I mentioned above, Honacha’s heavenly Bara- they are all just ammaazziinnng. Every dish is flavored with special spices and has a distinctive flavor.

I am done eating the bland Indian food as of now. Dosa, Idli, Chole Bhature etc, etc just make me sick. There was this time when I couldn't differentiate between Roti, Paratha and Chapati- which I thought were the same thing until my 7th month here. The only two famous cuisines here in general are Indian and Chinese. It’s strange that they call everything that does not require Haldi & Masala spices in the cooking process Chinese.

I wanted to elaborate more but would just end here.
Chow Chow!

P.S. Please eat Honacha's Bara for me? Anyone! =)

You

Reminders of you

The guitar stacked in the corner of my room reminds me of you

The picture of us on my wall reminds me of you

My now- long hair reminds me of you

PaniPuri reminds me of you

Mint reminds me of you

Music that plays on my iPod reminds me of you

Sweat on my nose reminds me of you

The smell of cigarettes reminds me of you

My next ticket to Nepal reminds me of you

Love reminds me of you

Constant thoughts of you never let you leave my mind

You are there

I wish you would leave

Hairfall.

I loved falling for you, how the butterflies in my tummy went berserk. I loved all the love songs ever written. The content feeling on seeing your face spread over my laptop screen during the video calls. How my heart skipped a beat when Facebook showed a tiny red notification about your letters.Well, that was all so awesome. BUT another fall I have come across sucks.

It takes ages to turn into a Rapunzel- well over exaggeration- but to get your hair long.  And once it does, you notice that  your hair is everywhere around the house. Making trails of your existence  I stayed home today after a very long time, tidied up my room and sat down to study in the clean surrounding. Then, I spot a strand on my blanket. Then another one- then there is another one. I literally hunted all of them down and by the time I was done, It made me so sad. It looked like a big fur ball. It was BIGGG. Sigh. But thank god its not as bad as the telly commercials.

Well, I will stop fussing about my hair fall and get back to studying. If I do get bald, will you still read what I write? Haha!

Chow.

Open and read.

The wait.

An article read on air followed by a Friend Request on Facebook and then the endless conversations over the virtual world. Too bad I was in a different country and I didn’t know what it would be like to see him in real and also aware that I was slowly defying gravity. The wait- well how many types of “Wait” should I mention here? The one where I waited for the message icon to pop up with a tiny red notification on Facebook? Or the endless Tu-du-tu-duu dial tone I heard on Skype or the long wait for the day we met in real? But no matter how torturous the wait might have been, the mini heart attacks and the sweet pleasures I got while reading what the red icon had to notify or seeing a warm chocolate brown face smiling to everything I said spread all over my laptop screen during the Skype sessions cannot just be described.

It made my heart skip a beat knowing that he was counting days when I would come home for summer. Both excited to see each other. To feel his presence next to me, to hold his hand, to do all the things we planned of doing, to just be alive and happy. After what seemed like a gazillion years, the date on the calendar matched with the one printed on my tickets back home. The wait was over. For good.

Us~ ♥

I love us 

Not the cactus 

Without any fuss

More than a bonus!

Churrrpiiisss

With eyes half open I marched out to get a packet of milk from a nearby convenient store-I cant start my day without a cup of tea. The guy in the shop- Uncle was on the phone. I was cursing him for making me stand out in the cold chills when he hung up the phone and asked me if I knew of "Churpi". I was ecstatic. Of course I did! I could eat them all day long until my tooth hurt.(For those who don't know what it is,click here. )

He returned back with a smile on his face and a big packet of Churpi and Titaura. It came to me as a shock. On conversing further on, he told me about his tales from Nepal. Not to forget, we talked in Nepali too. It makes me so happy to see Nepali faces around or at least find people who have been to Nepal and who love my country. Made my morning! I am chewing on Churpi just as I type this. Now, getting back to sipping the amazing tea I just made and my course books. Exams, sigh.

Have a nice dayyyy!!
Also, 12.12.12 today! The date  just sounds scary.

Cone

Lets take pictures with the cone while we wait for the pizza.

DIY Belt!

Will soon come up with a DIY website! Gathering things as of now.

Thankyou for soo much love and time for this senseless rambling that I do. Surprised to see 15K+ reads today! =)
Cheers!

Reckless

Last night,
I thought of us in the moonlight.
I craved for your voice last night.
I called you last night.
Maybe it wasn't right.
The phone was busy last night.
I cried myself to sleep in the starlight.
Thinking it will be alright.
With the sunlight.


Photo: deviantArt

Someday

~ir

I let the air
tousle my hair

as my feet are bare

Tate&Pate

I have never had a pet that would be MINE. I had a dog, Kale who ran round my house like a madman and chewed on everything possible. I didn't even need a plate as I knew that whatever crumbs of bread I dropped, he would work as a canine vacuum to suck it all in. Last month, when I was out with my room mate to buy chicken for dinner, we spotted an aquarium store ( i don't know what its called, a shop where fish is sold). So, the idea of keeping fishes as a pet came into our minds and we got three fishes home. I named mine Tate & Pate. They eat stinky fish food two times a day. and are not at ALL interactive. I tell them often stories about me being their mermaid mother and when they refuse to move around the bowl, I tell them that they are adopted in fury. Their mouth makes cute sound which is heard at night when everything else stops. In spite of loving them with all my heart, cleaning their bowl is the biggest obstacle. They poop so much. SOO much for the tiny beings. And cleaning the slimy water is not my favorite hobby either. It just started to drizzle, my next task is to carry their bowl and take them to the balcony. Its nice to see how much they enjoy the rain.

More next time.
Love.
Mermaid mommy!

Breakfast at Baggikhana

My phone was ringing. It was a friend. I checked the time, 1: 36AM. “That idiot” I thought. I answered the call and just when I was about to shout at him, he said something happened to him. I straightened up and asked him what happened.  “I have been shut in the Jail. I was going back home and the traffic police caught me for MaPaSe (Drink and Drive). I tried to protest and they put me in the van instead”. He went on for a while but my mind went blur. What he was in Jail? JAIL? Isn’t that the place for criminals and murderers? I heard him call my name. I shuddered as he asked me to get 1000 bucks and come free him from the police station at Singhadurbar at 7 the next morning. I told him not to panic when my heart was about to explode itself. I hung up and laid straight up on my bed.

After a while I received a text that said, “Please get a thick jacket if possible, I am really cold.”
I felt so bad then I wanted to throw the blankets out but then I thought again, Why were the policemen crazy to lock my poor friend up when he was not even drinking? And as far as I knew him, he was the kind of guy who would stay out of trouble.

Next morning, I left home at 5: 30, just not to be late. With my ATM card in hand, I marched up to Singhadurbar from Sinamangal and walked half the way as there were literally no vehicles and it was dark. However, when I was halfway gone, I got a text from him saying, it might get as late as 8/9 AM. I sighed.

This was the first time I was inside the Police station. Lame as it might sound, there were policemen everywhere. Dressed in combat boots and smart Light-blue shirts. I wandered around for a bit and went outside for a cup of tea. As I sat in one of the dark shops that served “Tato tato Sel Roti and Chiya”, a bunch of cops came in for their own breakfast. Slowly sipping in to the horrible tea, the already so very bored version of me popped up a conversation with the cops present there.  I asked them what time the jailbirds would be brought to the Baggikhana to set them free. They eyed me down and asked me who was brought in, I told them my friend and before I could finish pronouncing the word, they exchanged sly smiles amongst each other and asked, “Boyfriend”? Policemen, I thought with a deep sigh.

By the time I was back to the Station, the inmates were brought over and I looked around for my friend. I then noticed some decent looking boys, and thought to myself, it was no time to check out boys but they sure do look like they are from good families. I spotted him- my friend and after filling up some forms and doing the needful, we headed out after his one hour-ed class. The day was forgotten and just a distant memory until last week.

So jumping on to what happened last week, I was out with friends and after a glass of Beer each and the delicious French Fries from BK’s we headed home. One friend left home on a cycle while the other friend offered to drop me home. Just around Thapathali, the traffic police gave us a signal to stop the bike. Without further questioning, the lady asked for the license. I thought it was just insane. Well, not as bad as getting locked up but, what was the blow-in machine for? And even if the machine did show some pointer, shouldn’t there be a limit up till which the driver was allowed to drink? It is bad- drinking and driving but shouldn’t there be a limit to that? USA allows up to around 4 points. Drinking a glass of beer can go up to 2 points.

The policemen dont care about the pointers and people dont care about gulping down the alcohol in Weekend's name. This is Nepal. 

Broken needle

While working on one of my DIY projects, I broke a needle today.

After a while I noticed they were still together- I examined it more and found out they had magnets in them- or something like it. Stuck to the other piece, not wanting to say goodbye.

Maybe the goes with relationships too. No matter what happens, the ones bound to be together are together.


I read about Soul mates in one of the books a long time back, and writing this reminds me of it. One soul when dead split into two that is carried on to two different individuals. These two individuals are the soul mates. But again, one person can have two or more soul mates at a time.

Useless ranting but, just a random thought passing my mind.

Photo credits: devianArt

Fall.

When in Nepal,
I recall
The easy fall
After the never-ending calls
Promises in the rainfall
But now I see the curtain call
Too bad we couldn't install

Photo credits: Poonam Maharjan

world~

"This is a perfect world

I'm riding on an incline

I'm staring in your face

You'll photograph mine"

same/special?

So what is so special being with one person if you do the exact same with the others?

Likes!

My first published shot! :)
Teenz, July 2012.

Politics of Facebook like!

By: Subodh Chettri

We all have that one annoying friend on Facebook who has to like just about everything. 

Somebody tags himself or herself somewhere: LIKE, someone in a relationship: LIKE, somebody copy pastes a quote and pretends like they wrote it: LIKE, someone’s status update is some personal stuff that you wished they kept it to themselves: LIKE. I guess they do come in handy when you post something but let’s face it, its gets very annoying!! The most annoying thing is when it becomes a competition to like something first or when you have to find out about something because they liked it. Do these people not have a life! I am kidding, no one on Facebook does.

Mamu.

Something I wrote for the writer's block which I want mamu to read.
Mamu, I love you! =)


Date: 4th September
Location: New Delhi

Exactly a month today that I left home and it feels like it’s been ages already. 

The first memory of summer this year in Kathmandu, almost 3 months back is overseeing the whole city from around 1600 ft high. The small window gave me a limited view of houses that were sprouting out like colorful mushrooms. The engine hovered from the beautiful mountains and green land to Kapan- Cahabhil- Gaushala and then the runway. And when you are in a plane full of excited people waiting to see, feel & breathe Nepal, it is no less than a local bus plying around Ringroad. My mother was waiting there for me at the airport. Ready with her arms wide open, almost crying- then I know, Im home. She got me a Chocopie and Frooti to drink during my ride back home. I devoured them in between talks about Delhi, while she listened to everything I had to say intently touching my cheeks/ holding my hands - loving me so much more.

What made me write this post is just something very random that made me realize I am a stupid fool. This summer, when my mother wanted me to stay home with her- to chat, cook food together, watch movies- I ignored her and went to see my friends. Not that I don’t love her, I do- so much but I don’t know what is so tempting about friends. I just had a Skype date with her and she said that she loves me so much also that she can’t wait for me to come back. The cutest thing is, she is already counting days. And I am planning to go back on Mid November. Two and half months

Ahh- a mother’s heart.

Just tell your mother that you love her.

Dont ask me.

Don't ask me why

I said goodbye

after your lie

Photo: Stolen from Nischal Oli's Facebook!

joy

and the toddles

blew bubbles

in between giggles