Learning Lessons !!!

It was a brand new day. Mornings are normally the busiest part of day. Especially, for women as they need to prepare themselves and the rest of the family for a new day. I too have hectic mornings and this morning was not an exception. Only after my half sky left for work, I managed to see myself carefully in the mirror. I was deeply touched by someone’s post in the face book last week. “It’s you to decide how you want yourself to be seen in the mirror. You have two options. Start your day counting wrinkles on your face or gather the guts to see yourself beautiful and feel high. I chose the second option for myself.

Suddenly, the bell rang. I was expecting a mail from USA as my best friend said that she has posted me some gifts. I have always been excited about gifts so I ran to open the door. But, my guess went wrong. In front of me stood a Japanese guy with familiar looking piece of plastic pack in his hand. I could soon figure out that it was a “Wai Wai” pack. “Wai Wai” instant noodle normally is one of the very often packed items in every luggage that checks out the international airport in Nepal. But, what is this guy doing with this pack? Before, I could make out any meanings; he asked me if I was from Nepal. I proudly replied “yes”. I have always been amazed by the Japanese way of making one realize mistakes. Even if I make a mistake, they are the one to apologize first. He asked me if I had by mistake mixed that pack to the burnable organic garbage. I was shocked, not because I must have been more careful so but the way he used the pack to trace me. I could then understand this interesting story though I was already ashamed of the guilt to ask how he confirmed that it was me. Actually, the “Made in Nepal” note in the thrown away pack made him knock my door. We are indeed the only Nepalese in the neighborhood. I apologized and assured him that I would be more cautious ahead. He left with a smile. His smile could be interpreted in multiple ways. I could take it as a big blow on my face for my negligence or to keep my moral high I could take it as a reward for admitting my mistake. Once again, I decided to stick to the second possibility.  

By the time, he was gone I realized that I was getting late for my Japanese class. I quickly dressed up, packed my bag and was ready to move. I rushed to the community center for the class. Though, it is only about 5 minutes walk I need to cross the traffic signal once which unfortunately at this time was red. I needed to wait while I had only a minute left for the class. It is not very welcome if you are late anywhere in Japan so I had two options. I could either wait for the signal to go green and enter class a bit late or cross the signal in red to be on time for class. I live in a small city where traffic is usually sparse. The road was all clear and I could see not even a clue of any upcoming vehicle. I decided to cross and marched ahead in red light. After crossing the road, I turned back to see the crossing line that witnessed me breaking the rules. On the other side of the street, I could see a school boy of hardly 6 years who was still waiting for the signal to go green. In hurry, I missed noticing this little boy who was waiting patiently to follow the traffic rules. He smiled at me. This time his smile was crystal clear. It could hold no double meaning. I was totally embarrassed for what I had done and his innocent smile made me realize my fault. When six years old had such a respect for the traffic rule, how could I be so irresponsible in haste?

Two interesting incidents of the day urged me to think over and over. In the first case, I was not careful while segregating waste while in the other case; I intentionally broke the traffic rule. I cannot make a silly excuse by justifying that I come from a developing country where breaking rules are not serious offense.

Now, let me compare myself, with the same six years old boy. He waited in the traffic signal as he has been taught to follow the traffic rules. I was taught the same at almost his age, however, he is practicing what he learnt while I learnt and didn’t practice. So, the difference is in the practice not in education. If majority don’t segregate waste and disregard the traffic signal, breaking rule becomes a rule. What if majority follows rule? Then the minority breaking the rules will start obeying them in embarrassment. We often don’t take these things seriously as we think that everyone is doing so. However, just because everyone is doing doesn’t mean that’s the right thing to do. Have we been conscious enough to at least make sure that we are practicing what we have been taught? We have been taught exactly same rules that developed country students learn.  But, we always have played blame games and figured out the weaknesses that exist in our system. We tend to forget that we are the ones making this system. We underestimate our guts to change the system simply by transforming our personal attitude. We have always counted the wrinkles in our face but have we ever thought of ways to look more beautiful?

Priceless Portrait

Traffic jams of Kathmandu and my friend's late nature, they compliment eachother so well. As usual, she called me on my mobile to let me know that she would be an hour late. Waiting for somebody in the heart of city amidst crowd is troublesome, and my friend knows that too. Although I was blushed with anger, I had no option rather than spending the time in a near by cafeteria. I asked the café boy to get me a cup of coffee although I had lunch just before I left home. I sat on a chair, put the sunglasses off my eyes to rest them on my head, made my self-comfortable and started waiting for time to roll on.

Just in the other table infront of mine, I could notice a filthy looking man gazing at me. I didn’t dare to look up to him again. I urged my eyes to choose a different direction. Human are keen and obliged to do what they are supposed not to. This particular human pshychology worked with me at the moment. I took a double look at the man. To my surprise, I could see the man holding a pencil in his hand with a great difficulty and trying to sketch something on a paper. I wondered what the man was doing but immediately withdrew my eyes. In the mean time, my coffee arrived. With the first coffee sip to my lips, I drove my eyes to a teenage couple occupying the table at my other side. I was concious enough not to be caught watching them while they were fooling in a childish manner. Looking them enjoy, I flipped back to my teenage days, which I had left behind.

Looking at them hidingly and flashing back to my days of teens, I finished the coffee. But before I could head to the counter, pay the bill and leave the café, the same man approached my table. He sat in the chair right in front of me. He then kept forward the sketch he was working with. My astonishment held no limit, when I could see myself on that piece of paper.

The portrait was roughly sketched. With so much effort, he had given it a realistic look with my curly hair flipping aside my shoulders. I was speechless. I complimented him for his attempt and thanked him with heart. Alas! To my distress, I came to know that he couldn’t speak and couldn’t hear either. I felt so sorry for him. He couldn’t even hear the appreciations i had made to him.

With his expressions, I could understand that he wanted me to keep the portrait. I nooded and thanked him. As he was about to leave with a smile on his face, I stopped and gave him some money. He looked up to my eyes, gave a smile again and took hold of money I had offered him. He then left the café. I couldn’t hold back my eyes from him until he was out of sight. My eyes then reached for the paper to look at the portrait again. I was all hit by the sentiments by the moment. I could notice the portrait having the sunglasses on its head. I took the sunglasses off my head, put them on my eyes and stepped out the café treasuring a beautiful moment of my life.

Maria is still alive !!

Maria was born in 1983. But, death spares no young.  She died last year. I thought life is not always fair and I was disheartened. The cherry tree planted in her memory has grown big enough to shelter little birds when they are tired learning to fly. Hopefully, next year some flowers will bloom and fresh cherries will serve appealing feast to these birds. The bright side, a life was gone but a life has come. I never knew Maria and how could I? She was an African origin studying in Japan in the university where I was a guest for a couple of days attending a conference last spring. The conference has blurred in my mind but the memory note in the tree trunk “You are still alive” is still vivid. Life is like a flame of a candle that vanishes when wind chooses its way through it.  Where does the flame go? This remains unanswered. It’s simply gone but Maria is not, she is breathing and making the others to breathe. She is alive with chirping birds, the mesmerizing cherry flowers and aromatic ripen fruits.

In an article contest, an interesting story from Nepal was winning numerous votes. Going through this piece, I thought of Maria once again. In a Himalayan community of Nepal, a tree dies for an every human born. Everywhere a child birth is celebrated as a pride and in most societies much more if it’s a son. No exception applies to this Himalayan parish. In any case a tree dies to be placed on the sides of the door, to the right if it’s a boy and left if a girl. I was bound to compare how a new life was welcomed with death of the other and death of Maria in the campus was sprouting a new life.

In Hindu Culture funeral pyre is lit up to transform the dead to Nirvana. In the other scene a tree has been slaughtered. Well, I do not have any hard feelings against religious values and norms but the nature blues prevail as this continues over time. Death is inevitable and so is new life. Life is a stage and human are mere actors, as Shakespeare had said. We just step in and leave the theatre as the curtain falls down. We will continue doing so. No wonder, we cannot compensate human demise by any means. But, can’t we remunerate the loss of nature? Can’t we pay tribute to the deceased ones by planting a tree in their memories? We can invite monsoon sooner, rejoice the wandering birds and get rid of the alarming environmental despair. The gone ones are gone anyway, we can at least live in illusions that they are breathing in a different form. What’s wrong in accepting the tranquil illusion that Maria is still alive!!!!!

Does Age Really Matter ?

DOES AGE REALLY MATTER ???

In this land of rising sun even if I try I can’t sleep after five in the morning. Every morning brings new aspirations. Sun shines on my window pane and the fresh morning air whispers in my ears. I tie up my shoe laces and making sure that my foot steps are light enough not to wake up the neighbors, I am all set for a walk.

Cool morning air gently sways over the green paddy field. Siberian cranes who forgot their way back home wake up even earlier. Old granny shrunk with age who can hardly stand erect to see my face wishes me “ Ohayou Gojaimasu”. She is already busy with her little garden. Under the big round hat is her wrinkled beautiful face that has witnessed the changing seasons for almost a century. She is at work. I should not divert her for long and I moved ahead. The other grandma working in her field was eager to talk to me and remarked that I woke up quite early. I thought she was sarcastic. How could my young bones sleep when yours are already at work? “Youth is not about age, it is about spirit” said the women. I only had a smile to give her back. With every bit of walk and talk, with every now and then, I admit this land has something to teach me. The morning sun, cool breeze and fresh thoughts of old people of this city rejuvenate me from within.

It is not age that keeps you young. It’s the spirit within. “I can’t dress in bright colors anymore. I am over the hills”. Such stereotype still is a part of my society. Age limits people from doing what they have always opted. My Japanese language sensei, she is 73 now. But, aging just stopped for her. Wrinkles and grey hair are not the signs of aging in this case rather they are of her experiences and wisdom. I compare her enthusiasm with that of teenagers. Many things can start at late ages as not everything can be done in young life. Life is a rollercoaster. There are ups and downs. In many cases, in young age, people are occupied with family responsibilities and there are so many things that we might have wanted to do but couldn’t. Viewing with an eye of optimism, old stage is often more favorable to start up new things. Age is never a bar for those with strong will. It is never too late to learn to swim, dance or a new language. My Sensei is a forward looking person who thinks there are many things yet to learn and do. She has this quest and a strong reason to enjoy later stage of life. I have never told her but she is one of my role model. She is there to teach me Japanese language but unintentionally reveals secrets that a celebrated philosopher might have missed out in his speech on life.

To keep myself occupied I teach English Language to a lady in her mid 60s.As Japanese lack the English accent , pronouncing some words is a hard nut to crack, but she puts her full heart to pronounce words in a native style. Every time she learns a new word, I learn a new lesson.
The vibes of these positive energies that surrounds me in this city reminds me of my own grandmother. My grandmother who is a part of a different world now, used to sit in the balcony and wait for someone to come and talk to her. I knew she loved to be surrounded by people around while counting last days of life. Her hands would still rise to bless us but she could not work in garden any more. She was an inspirational person who always advised us to toil as she did all her life. Many more grandmothers in my country must be doing the same. I feel nostalgic.