“It’s not that far beta .. okay, I’ll carry you. Hear that horn? It’s calling us so we have to hurry beta else mommy will be late ..”
Something along these lines from my mother is one of my earliest memories; another being, blowing fog from my mouth in Gangtok with my cousins.
To teach Nepali at a high school, 6 days a week, early in the morning, my mother used to travel to the little Terai town of Duhabi from a different city – Biratnagar. This was 80s in Nepal .. there were no scooties and no micros. She had to take the bus going to Dhankuta (the bus was an ‘Express’ – it made the fewest and the quickest stops) from Biratnagar.
My mother’s commute was thus: 15 minutes walk to the Biratnagar bus-stop from our dera, 30 minutes ride to Duhabi, another 10 minutes walk to the school and back. 110 minutes (or thereabouts) of commute back-and-forth. I’ve retraced those steps and the ride itself a couple of times after I ‘grew up’.
When my mother carried me, her bosom was the most comfortable resting area ever. When she held my hand when we walked, her hands provided me with security that BRB would envy. When she smiled to me, I lit up. When she fed me, I ate with glee. When she sometimes had to fight with the Conductors over inconsistent fares, I voiced my displeasure to the Conductors via heart-piercing shrills of a stereotypical Nepali cry-baby.
Now, mother is ailing. Infections wreak havoc in her urinary tract. She’s been on medication for the better part of last half-year. But you know what? Her work still reins over everything. She wants to be there everyday despite the disease which thank god is not life threatening but requires constant monitoring.
She’s worked all her life, my mother. Her continuous strive for independence (financial, social, etc.) has led to her current state of mind. That draw for independence had stemmed from her background and the setbacks she had suffered due to already-in-place Nepali social conventions having paved the path she was expected to trek on for the remainder of her life – whether she had liked it or not. Yes to marriage, no to education.
Despite the slight punctuation, my mother wouldn’t back down. My father’s liberal upbringing and thought – also Ilamey, provided her with more than enough latitude to where she could pursue her aspirations of becoming an independent Nepali woman. She did. Still is.
This flashback about my mother was what I was reminded of when I read through a few wonderful write-ups by Nepali women in the book “Telling A Tale”. Archana Thapa, whom I’ve heard speak a couple of times in a few events, has done an excellent service to the world of Nepali literature by bringing out voices of Nepali women spanning a significant array of backgrounds.
Reading through this book, I learnt quite a lot about women, and well, also about myself – in one particular instance. I’ve been blessed with knowing some strong Nepali women in my life. Besides my mother and my sister, I’ve had the fortune of having spent some quality time with the strongest of women in my friendships and past relationships.
Those relationships, I still recount almost everyday to myself and despite not having seen at least one of them through to the end, they are moments lapsed in time I’m still inspired by. Those women were strong, I was not. They were sincere, I was shallow. They had balls of steel, I had balls made of cotton (now there’s a poem!).
I had walked to Thamel from Baluwatar yesterday for two reasons:
1. to locate one particular homeless kid to ask him if he’d been to any restaurants lately (long story – will state in another post – here’s something related)
2 – to buy that latest from Manjushree Thapa
1 didn’t happen and before I got to 2 in Pilgrims’, I ran across this gem of a book: ‘Telling A Tale’. After I quickly read one write-up, I wondered how in the world could I have missed this book up until now. I eventually bought both.
Taking in the warm sun Kathmandu received this afternoon and nibbling on suntalas and also throwing in some of the best naps I’ve taken in the last year somewhere in between, I read through most of the down-to-earth and straight-out-of-heart narratives produced by some brilliant Nepali writers of the fairer sex.
And here are the top 10 reasons why you also need to buy this book:
10. If you want to get ahead in Nepal, you need to understand how women think. Why? By the next 15-20 years, watch them turn the tables on us. So this book’s a great head-start. [It's China and women that will rule the upcoming generations.]
9. Whether or not you are a woman, there’s a good chance you may be able to learn something about yourself after reading this book – more so, if you are a Nepali.
8. Do your part to generate some revenue for our Nepali publishers also, will you?
7. This book could be a great gift for Valentine’s Day for your significant other who still thinks (or doesn’t) that getting a job and getting married rightaway will solve all problems of this world. Can we change some ways of this world we live in please? Again, while reading this book, I realized on one instance how it starts with me also.
6. There’s a good chance you will relate to a few voices and specifically what they have to say in this book. My fellow Nepali men, there’s how you get to listen to the other side also.
5. That lady you are trying so hard to impress? Tell her what book you’ve been reading these days after you buy this book. There’s a chance your stock could carry some extra weight.
4. In this book, there are clear, specific instructions on what to call and what not to call women of various shapes and sizes. Take that to heed and see yourself go far.
3. If you missed that ‘piece’ in Himal Southasian a few months ago, Manjushree Thapa candidly talks about her first kiss in this book also.
2. Read this book and see what ideas you get to help men also in this country. If I were a top-notch Nepali man ‘literatus’, I would already start compiling similar write-ups from Nepali men. Not as a token to counter this book, but to add to this brilliant idea of Archana Thapa’s to provide a dose of the other gender also. I have a feeling Nepali women wouldn’t mind that one bit.
1. This book will provide you with that extra boost needed to say sorry – did to me.