Memory Lane: The Thin Ice
************************

Johnny got all the attention that Sunday morning. Why wouldn’t it?  After all, it had narrowly escaped death the day before. When it collapsed and began to kick its legs, we panicked as if we were about to lose a member of our family. It was indeed a miracle that it recovered so quickly.
( For more on Johnny -http://www.sajha.com/archives/openthread.cfm?threadid=8457&dsn=sajhaarchive)

 “Johnny Johnny, yes Papa, LICKING POISON, no PAPA, ok Johnny?” My sister was giving rhythmic advice to Johnny. Maybe, it understood. It looked at her wagging its tail while she stroked its neck and ears.

 “Aba khana de na bichara lai, hijo dekhi kehi khako chaina! Poison soison bhanera bujcha ki kya ho?” I began to grow impatient at my sister’s melodrama.

“Taile bujchas bhane yesle bujdaina ta? “KUKKUR!” came her pungent reply.

 “Chup lag Makuri…tero dulha tyaha herr bhittama..” I had only begun my retaliation pointing to a spider, when Dad intervened from below.

“Oysssssssssss! Yeta herr ta!”  Dad shouted.  “Tyaha sirani muni, paisa chad-dya chu.  Aja bijuli ko bill natire 3% off paudainas. Ani telephone ko pani tirnu hai?” Hoping to cash some pocket money, I told him that I also needed a couple of smooth paged “Tridevi “ notebooks for my writing class and a new Chinese Pen. My dad loved to preach on how he had spent mere 32 rupees till he gave his SLC, but he was ready to spend his entire salary on education if need be, no questions asked. “Tyo banki paisa le kinn…ani jathabhabi phone garera nabasnu..tyatro bill acha..katti kura garnu parne ho timi haroo lai!”

 His voice faded away as he left for office in the usual morning mayhem. We were just relieved that despite our increasing telephone bill, Dad had not resorted back to his most uncanny law of having to sign up to use the phone. We couldn’t lie because he had a friend in Telephone Corporation that would provide a copy at the end of each month including details of all the calls we had made. Anyways, that was that.

******************
After an early lunch, I took my BMX bicycle out and was about to leave the house, when my elder sister startled me from the bardali “Oiee Oyss, kata jana la?”

“..bijuli ko bill tirna, telephone ko bill tirna….katti kaam cha mero..!”

 “Dherai hero paltinchas! Daddy le kati paisa dinu bhako cha, bhan ta?” My sister grew curious.

“Bill tirne paisa! tara mero Tridevi ra Chinese pen ni kinnu cha” I replied.

 “Ma sanga duita extra Tridevi cha, tyai chala. Tyo shrestha stationary ma ekdam mohongo lincha” She chapped her lips in disapproval. “Ani sooon! Everest Momo bata char plate momo le hai, deuso ko khaja lai? ” She ruined my entire personal plans. “La la! Herchu! Line lamo huncha. Ma gayen….”

 I decided to take the “Maligaon ko Oralo”’s  short cut. The plan was to pay the electricity bill first at Sano Gaucharan, then head to the faster moving line at the telephone corporation office in Naxal and then to Everest Momo, and back. I also wanted to stop by bhagwati bahal’s mithai store for a couple of “dudhbaris” that I often craved for.

The traffic was heavy as usual when I reached “Badri ko Pasal” at the main street leading off Maligaon. So, I got off the bike and dragged my bicycle up the hill through the bare sidewalk that existed heading towards Sano Gaucharan to avoid the honking of impatient drivers in the street. To my dismay, I could clearly make out the serpentine line that extended beyond my horizon causing a partial traffic jam. This would take forever. Since I didn’t have a lock for my bicycle, I parked it by the wall of the Nepal Electricity Board office where I could see it from the queue, and headed towards the back of the line onto the road to Mahendra Bhawan School.

Since it was relatively early, there were few girls still making their way to the school. To compliment that, there was a group of guys resting by the eastern wall of Sano Gaucharan flirting with time and girls alike:

“Oh Maiya! School jana dhilo bhayena?” “Ki aja school nagai kana Bhandar Khal teera jane?....” The girls would have none of the boisterous laughter and the teasings. Frustrated one of the boys quipped “Yo BIDUWA haroo kina yesto ghamandi huh….???

A fat bald headed man stood behind me pushing me ahead with his bulging belly as if his push would send the line faster. “Dhilo bhai sakyo, aja ta Chadke ma parincha parincha!” The line moved at the pace of the snail as the office goers began to grow more and more frustrated. “Euta matrai officer raicha! Ani kasari chito huncha ta..?” The answer was forth coming.

********************
Coming from afar from the Maligaon side, I could see Sneha making her way. She was smart at this ploy. As usual, she was dressed up in her vibrant best: red skirt, shiny blue shirt and a dazzling pink shawl complimenting her red lipstick, vermilion “beendi” and hyper-extended gajaal.  As a decoy, she had as usual brought along one of the neighbor’s little kids that whined all the time. She didn’t bother to stay in queue at all. She stood by the gate at the front and sighed at the line, making few conversations to people standing in queue at an inaudible level. Not to my surprise, the guys at the front not only allowed her to pass right by but even volunteered to look after the kid, amidst some disgruntled mumblings from the crowd. She was out within minutes. She gave me a wry smile from far, swerved her head to send her highlighted hair to the back while we waited impatiently. The man behind me mumbled further in anger “…Ramri bhaye ta line ma ni basna naparne..! laaz saaz nabha manche haroo!”

Finally after an hour or so, the people in front of me dwindled to half a dozen. I turned back occasionally to see that my cycle was still in place. I reached for my pocket and took one of the cards out. It turned out to be the telephone card, thus I reached for my pocket again. EMPTY! My heart began to race immediately. I reached both my pockets, felt my body, walked back in the line only to realize to my horror that I had not only lost the electricity bill and the card but also the crisp  thousand rupee bill that I had tucked inside it, or at least I thought I did. I went back to my bike and followed the direction where I had walked once again carefully. I instantly realized that I had dropped the card somewhere along the way, probably when I got off the bicycle near Maligaon. With my pulse rising to its utmost, I quickly got on the bike…. “ Wrong card lyayechu..!” was my limp reply to people’s quizzical looks that were following my activity.

 contd....

I pedaled back to retrace the direction I had come as slowly as possible. Every white and brown paper on the way made me stop and examine them. To my horror, the wind began to whistle sending the stray papers on the street faster than I could catch them. I couldn’t believe my luck. When I reached Badri’s Pasal towards Maligaon, my heart felt very weak. It was not so much about the electricity and telephone bills,  it was the trust of my daddy. He would never assign me this activity again. My occasional Sunday pocket money would be gone forever. Still determined, I pedaled back home scrutinizing every paper on the way up the “Maligaon ko ukalo” until I reached home empty: in money and enthusiasm alike.  

 Seeing me frantically search my room, Dad’s room all over again, my sisters began to follow me as well. “Oyee Oys! K bhayo? Kina tyasto anuhaar laako?” one added

 In my nervousness, I began to close and open the drawers of Maami’s dressing table. “K khojeko tyaha? Paisa ta harainas, Daddy le deko?” The older one guessed correctly. I relayed the entire story as I could see them both fuming at me before I could even finish my story. “ani ali jatan garnu pardaina ta…!” aba k garchas?

 After making absolutely sure that I had not forgotten to take the bill with me, I decided to do the right thing. “Call Dad and tell him that I got robbed……” Umm. I was never a good liar. My dad saw through me like a crystal. But then I couldn’t picture his wrath of not being cautious enough. I weighed all the things out. I had no other choice. I went to my room, opened up my Podrej Daraj and its inner shelf. I had around 500 rupees that I had saved arduously over the last year in my KHUTRUKE. I was still short of 300 or so rupees. I still didn’t know how I would pay the electricity bill without the bill itself. Convincing my siblings that I would pay back by next Dashain and not to tell Daddy till I found a logical excuse, I squeezed 300 from both of them with a barrage of angry words and curses on me. I took them graciously.

*******************

I pedaled back reluctantly hoping I might still find the bill and the elephant bill, but it just wasn’t my day. The sunshine, the breeze and the buzz of Sano Gaucharan area began to dissolve in front of my misery. I parked my bicycle without any care this time and went back to staying in line. There were only five people left. I began to pace back and forth on how to explain to the officer to make me a new card, have him make the new bill and pay the amount. Was it even possible? Would I still get 3% discount that I was entitled to?  I grew so angry that I kicked the stone at my feet towards the side of the office building. As I saw the stone roll towards the thinning grass, a white paper caught my eye.

 For the love of seven mad gods’ name, I could make out the edge of the white electricity bill lay right there just a few paces from me laughing at my despair. The world spun and the time stopped as I found my new found hope. I frantically searched around for the Card and more so for the thousand rupee bill. It was camouflaged in the dust few paces further hinging barely with few muddy stones wavering in the strong breeze against the office Wall. I slowly picked it up, looking up in the sky, and opened it. There it was,  safely inside, indifferent to my misery, a crisp elephant.

 *************

My hands were still shaking from the whole ordeal I had just gone through. I was just surprised that all that wind had not blown it away nor anyone had seen it right beneath their feet. It was simply miraculous. Furthermore, the thought of not losing trust of Dad was a big relief.

“Oh Dai! Tapain ko no. dekhaunus ta ” the vendor, almost twice my age, inquired me at the everest momo. “chabbish, ho dai! I replied politely.

“Chabbis No. char plate PACK!” He gave the order. Suddenly, thought of Johnny, our lil’ prized terrier, seized me. “Dai, arko half plate ni thapdinu na!”

 It is hard to imagine that miracles are much more common in life than we think. We tend to belittle them for they don’t affect us in a big way. At times, we ignore them because it only happened to people we know and not us, and yet other times, we become too modest and give credit to God. In the end, however, we forget that life is not only about us but all the events and the people that are connected with it are also part of our lives. The small things that life is built upon ultimately merge to give the same life its entity. Yet, we cannot help but fret needing a miracle so very often.

 I put the bag of Everest Momo and the delicious Achar wrapped in a plastic bag in my bicycle handle and slowly proceeded to Handigaon. When I reached Bhagwati Bahal, I realized that I had almost forgotten about my utmost desire. I parked my bike on the steps of the mithai pasal and ordered two luscious dudh baris, and savored its sweet taste taking my own sweet time on that beautiful Sunday afternoon.

 

Absolute beauty brother !

I really liked the smooth flow of the narration .

 

oys chill jyu, mero ni estai chha kahani...telephone ra bijuli ko paisa tirna jane (tara interest dherai bhae pachhi) ani momo khane!!! i am really mising that momo...

Oys bro,

Thorougly enjoyed. Maligau, Sano gaucharan, bhagwati bahal ..ah! where am I?

Oysssssssssss, totally loved it..just one complain...next time write a longer one..:)
Kasto Everest Momo khana man lagyo aba...and dudhbari too..:(

Miracles do happen..we just have to look around..it's a miracle we're alive, it's a miracle we get to know wonderful people everyday, it's a miracle we have food to eat..enjoy each moment...every new day is a miracle!!

Oys, loved it...awesome read, ho bhanya arko choti ali lamo story hai :) ..you reminded me that mithai pasal next to the temple. I used to go with my mom during Nauratha, bhagawati ko puja bhanda pani more interested in dudhbari and peda, kahile mommy ko puja sidhinchha ra mithai khana jaau jasto :)....Oh! I miss those days.

.Oys, You've written it very nicely. I could relate it to my childhood days. Your memory lane just makes me more nostalgic. Great!! :-)

Sisterjaan, "Miracles do happen..we just have to look around..it's a miracle we're alive, it's a miracle we get to know wonderful people everyday, it's a miracle we have food to eat..enjoy each moment...every new day is a miracle!! " wah! wah! wah! It's a miracle that I've got a sisterjaan like you. :-)

 

Ha ha..Camobhaijaan, it's a miracle I got to know you too :) How's bhabijaan? And how's your leather ko dhoti? Oys, waiting for more hai :)

yata ta ke ho jaanai jaan rachhan gathe! sisterjaan re bhaijaan re bhabhijaan re ...malai chai tyasto miskat haina pure "jaan" chaiyathyo kyare....kyarni hola? Oysko shibani ko ke chha hola halkhabar--- saaro samjhana aairachha ho!

o-y-s, o-i-s, oh! I?? yes.
yes, YOU, yeah the quiet kid/one in the corner, the silent observer, the secret poet, the angry analyst and the “amazing” writer… you are truly blessed with beautiful nostalgic eyes.

read this piece many times, but still the craving remains. chito chito pheri aru lekha la! btw, next time include pointer of google-map to GH or get us a GPS. this reader is lost in tangal chowk, tell me which turn should i take from “here”?

 hugs to 'Makuri' and bugs for ‘Kukur’.

Thanx ya' ll.

Deep Dai,
I heard mane khat was still going strong just last week or so...yo barsa ta handigaon reunion garne hoina bhanya? :)

Miss Cleo...you have many options from tangal chowk. If you're really hungry, you can head west towards Gairidhara Naan-Sekuwa Center. If  your shopping mania ensues, jus head north towards the bhatbhateni supermarket. Don't go South! After you're done giving tribute to our chattre ganesh (it drinks milks when rumors go around), head east if, only if, you want to visit the fairytales of your dreams. You'll know which memory lane to take once you reach the Gahana Pokhari !

Oys ब्रो,
बिजुली, पानी र टेलिफोनको पैसा तिर्ने जिम्मा आफ्नै थियो। आफुलाई त महिनाको तिन्पल्ट बिल आए हुने जस्तो लाग्थ्यो। जती पल्ट तिर्न गयो, त्यती पल्ट एक्स्ट्रा पैसा पाइन्थ्यो।

रमाइलो प्रस्तुती।

.Oys,

Needless to say that once again you've guided us to the forgotten memory lanes! As always, you characters and dialogues are such melodies that cannot be get enough of (that was a lil' boost, but with sheer honesty ;-) ).

Keep on writing - it is a miracle in itself!

Best Regards,

Flippy

Deep Dai,
I heard mane khat was still going strong just last week or so...yo barsa ta handigaon reunion garne hoina bhanya? :)

Ho bhanya, Oys. Hadigau reunion garnu parne.

Mane khat kudauda harip maja hunthyo --- jata jata thiti utai utai hururu daudayo -- paanimaa ta kati pugiyo pugiyo...gujeswariko prasad lae si--josai jos aauni...

good story.
Sanu gaucharan ka keta haru le mahendra bhawan ka keto haru lai ta jiska holan hoina? :)
Gyaneshwor, Sanu gaucharan, naxal -- lots of good  memories.

A great read... I felt for the boy who was frantically looking for the 1000 Rs. bill! Your detailed narration about the different places made me completely nostalgic. Ans yes, the chattre ganesh did drink milk, I saw with my own 2 eyes! lol. And the road that leads from there straight to gahana pokhari... have walked there zillion times when it was completely muddy!!Your reply to cleo reminded me of the naan sekuwa corner where my cousin made me buy keema naan and sekuwa for him all the time. Of course we would hide it from the parents as it was "unhygenic." Waiting for the next piece. :)

Awesome writing. Ur dialouges are very natural. “Taile bujchas bhane yesle bujdaina ta? “KUKKUR!” remined those days and missed my brother. Keep on writing.