Human Right–A Joke

There is a dictum which says, “Judges and politicians kill with impunity”. In fact, this is a Russian proverb. Though, I am not a Russian culture fan – in fact, not a fan of any particular culture or religion — I just found it while I was looking for some issues and reports on severe human right violence in the world’s context.

UN data on human right shows that there are more than 20 countries which are reeling under the internal conflict, some of which are categorized in a “low-risk-conflict” while some are categorized in “high-risk-conflict” depending on the seriousness of the issue and how long the country is dragged into the unresolved conflict cases, number of people killed during that period and the number of displaced  people (internally or have become refugees).

International Criminal Court data shows that there are more than between 6.5 million to 8.5 millions people who have lost their life in these conflicts. And, obviously, the majority of people are the innocent people who doesn’t have anything to do with the politics, political gains and whatever political issues that have enraged this dire conflicting environment around the world.

Although the Government of Nepal and the CPN Maoists made commitment in the Comprehensive Peace Accord (CPA) signed on November 22, 2006 in making the whereabouts of the disappeared people public, that has not been implemented yet. The information on whereabouts of more than 900 people who were enforced-disappearances are still unknown. All the agreement made and duly signed in November 22, 2006 were never materialized and those words remained confined to the papers of agreement – that never crossed that date (November 22, 2006).

Majority of people of Nepal even don’t know when the peace agreement were formulated and when those were reached to mutual consensus to give it a successful conclusion. And, the reason is simple – NO BODY CARES — what goes around and comes around. The only thing they know is how to survive and how to blabber unequivocally in front of people in mass gathering: either it be a party, a small coterie of people in a cubicle in office,  in some market junction, in a cafeteria or in thatched a tea-shop in some countryside . We all can talk, and that’s for sure!

Because of their (Nepalese politicians) insular thought, it seems virtually impossible that there ever will be a new constitution of Nepal. The fact is, if something has to happen, it might shows some sign of progress. But, Nepal’s context, it showing a downward progress – it has always shown a route of upheaval.

Nepal  is in en route to joining other 101 countries where people and prisoners are ill-treated and the 91 countries where torture is at its zenith.  The fresh and extreme two examples are the appointment of Agni Sapkota in cabinet and amnesty of Maoists lawmaker Bal Krishna Dhungel in his involvement in the case of  murder charge  of Ujjan Kumar Shrestha of Okhaldhunga. He was acquitted from the murder charges siting that it was party’s decision because the later one as spying for the then Nepal government’s security officials.

Human right has just remained as a joke for those who are waiting for their turn to hear the justice in their favor, and there is nothing much International Human Right Watch dogs can do to persuade government of any country for brining the perpetrators to justice. More than 5-years has already passed since the governing authorities of Nepal reached to a consensus for promulgating the new constitution to Nepal. But, since then, they have been stuck in some kind of calculated bewilderment, and now, finally, it is frustrating the general public.

It appears as if the Human Right Organization is just a harbor for more money and revenue for something they do not have to do anything – just collecting data from around the world and reporting on what’s going on. Updating their data server is what remains as the only primary job of the Human Right Organization.

Very sad!

The Stifled Progress

I am not sure about the exact date and time, but it has certainly been more than 15-years and counting since we lost our old nice peace loving country and entered into a debacle of history of Nepal that we had never seen before. And, what was that for? For rebuilding Nepal, that was for making Nepal for everyone –- a dream country – or so called a “Kingdom of Heaven” – with a vision that we all will be treated equally, there would not be any kind of suppression and oppression against any minority group and community – in fact, to meet all the demands of the poor people of Nepal – a kind of ideal life with dignity.

More than 15-years have been passed and what we have got in return is: more suppression and oppression, more maim, more violence, more loss of life in the name of finding rights. The question is, “Is this what we had ever longed for?, Is this what we really deserve for being honest, humble and gracious, kind and peace loving?, Is this what we had ever dreamt of?”. The fact is we have lost of honesty, our composure, our humanity – whatever we ever had which we use to boast with – “The nation of peace – Nepal – has marred into a havoc where no one has control over what is going on. The only option left is to protect your life, your family’s life and your property you have.

Over 15000 people have lots their life, thousands got internally-displaced, and there is still no record of hundreds of those who are missing. Who is going to find those answers for our history? Really hard to believe that out of millions of son’s of Nepal, no one seems responsible to give it a final conclusion, no one is ready to stand for her and give it a pleasant ending. All those brave sons of Nepal which is known to be a honest sons of Nepal and is still being praised for being honest and unequivocal mettle (Gorkhali soldiers) are good for nothing, finally. What is the use of pontificating that we are the sons of great-gorkhas when we can’t even protect our own motherland?

The rising incidence of murder, extortion, kidnapping, rape doesn’t shows any sign of abating. No one seems responsible for what is going on. There is virtually no control over the system, the rules governing the system. We have been saying that, “We should not forget that we are all law-abiding-citizen”. Absolutely! But, what matters here and now is that it has just been confined to the papers and have ended up in some corner of the administrative office and control division that no body cares of even know that it still even exist.

More than 600 goons are sitting in our parliament and languishing in their cozy individual cubicles. That’s what they fought for! They showed us the dream of a heavenly state which turned out to be a hinterland. All those rebel forces of Maoists have same  rue to vent – “We trusted them (the Maoists political leaders) with our life, but we have been bilked – we never realized that the process of evolution takes time, nothing is going to change overnight, but we were so inane to even think about it.” Finally, what we got is this (Rs.200, 0000)!! All those PLA-fighters have the same question to ask, “Is this (Rs.200,000) is what we deserve from all this 15-years of insurgency? But, nobody seems to pay their heed to their plea.

The chances of recovery is very slim in case of Nepal as it has been infected with a deadly virus of ethnicity. Unfortunately, however we try to parry the inevitability and to get away from the reality, the truth is that we are going down under this quagmire of ethnicity. It has so deeply rooted itself within this one decade of time that it hardly seems to getting back to normalcy.  And, sadly enough, everyone of us seems stoic and stolid to this situation – with few exceptions that we have been continually been updating our Facebook and Twitter status showing how saddened we are and how desperately we need our normal life back in our home (Nepal) – which is insignificant and untouchable in any manner.

God bless Nepal and we Nepalese!

Believing in others

The words “believe” has already diminished if we want to take it literally, though “belief” is still intact. The reason is “belief” is something personal and we do not need a consent of others to assimilate in ourself. It is our own conception and our own astuteness that governs us to assimilate it in us.

There use to be a time when every single person in a society use to be genuinely kind to others, helping in their nature and honestly gregarious, and there was not any kind of malice floating in the society like hoodwinking others, pontificating about things that they do not own. And, honesty was the main string that had entangled everything in one thread.

Over time, we have lost our ingenuity, our honesty and we have been cursed with malice, hate, envy, nature of chastising others as it it has become our daily duty and we can’t live without it. Things have changed and we are now left with the hollowness in ourself: hollowness of kindness, hollowness of ingenuity, hollowness of gregariousness, hollowness of greatness.

The reason for all this comes down to the increasing population which has jaded every nooks and corner of the world with all those opportunities and possibilities. We have become competitive over time doesn’t matter how gregariousness of ourself we are showing to others.

Ironically, the world is developing and showing the progress towards humanity: like setting up UN for helping countries in need, building social networking sites to get along with friends because the system in which we are now had thought that, this is the need of time, and creating social networking site might bring our loved ones closer to us in case even if we do not have time for them.

But, everything has changed overt time and the development in one part is not affecting another part positively. All these positive changes seem just mere. We have friends now, but we can’t trust: everybody now have a common set of beliefs that it is better to trust a stranger than our own loved ones, because those strangers do not know our history or our impending future, they can’t find our Achilles Heel so that they can take advantage of. And, in case, even if they do, they will take time to materialize it. So, basically, it is better to trust a stranger which has ultimately made us more far from our loved ones.

In this phage of transition, there is a catch – a catch that non of us have been able to really hold it or grab it. The catch is, the “believe” that we have inherited is still there which is now in a vegetative state which has now become our worst Achilles Heel. We want to trust other and believe what they have to say to us, but we fail to recognize how much truth is held in it. We fail to recognize that fact that what might be the ulterior motif behind those words.

If something is true, why do we have to whisper it? Why do we have to hear it from somebody else? We fail to believe that whatever comes from the main source has already been twisted. The catch is we still believe it without caring for rest of the things. The catch is, we easily believe a person who is talking ill about somebody else in front of us. Can’t we think that s/he might who is our, for now, a messenger might be doing the same thing about us in front of someone else. For those kind of person, “the talk” is always fascinating – they are just finding someone to talk, while the gist of the talk is often nonsense which doesn’t hold even a stint of truth or a tangible productiveness which might brings some positive outcome which might help us in someone at the end of the talk or later after that.

The catch is, if we can’t believe our own sensory organs which is supposed to behave true and emanate the true information for us, sometimes behaves weird. We are so engrossed with these facts that we can’t isolate ourself from it. We have to be a part of it otherwise we will be like “odd one out”. This situation is something like a story of a kind that I have just finished reading couple of days ago in a book: “Veronika Decides to Die”.

The story in a twisted form is something like this, “Once upon a time there was a village which was governed by a powerful man of that village. Being envious to his will, power and governance, his enemies set a notorious plan against him so that the entire inhabitant of the village would turn against that leader. The enemies of that leader mixed some kind of potion in the meal which was as usual distributed for lunch for entire village. The entire village turn out to be mad except the leader. After that whenever the leader use to give orders to his men including the soldiers, they use to think that their leader has gone mad and they started thinking that their leader is now insane who behaves weird giving orders that doesn’t make sense. Finally, the leaders without any hopes of returning back to the normal life thought of having that potion too in his meal. He turned out to be mad as well. Afterward, whatever orders he use to deliver orders the villagers started obeying and meeting his orders with their hearts thinking that their leader has become normal and as revered as always.

The moral of the story is that if the whole world is mad, you will be called insane even if you are not, if in case you behave normal. So, it is better to behave how the world behaves otherwise there is no escape out. We too have to be mad just like the leader to be counted in the coterie of normal sane persons.

Now, its up to us, how much we believe on others and their words. If you keep on believing on others blind-eyed, you will be duped easily, because people are not sane as you are. They might be insane who might be on the way of revenge for something that doesn’t have meaning, for something they have never seen, done or heard by themselves – and its all just because they blindly believe on others which in today’s context is mostly deluded with information which is twisted and marred with ulterior motif to make world look down upon you.

People these days do not compete fairly because they know very well that they can’t stand on the competition if they will be fair. So, as a result, they take some other way out which might be easier and filled with malice and ill-wills and motifs. That’s why it is said that, “It is hard to make a house than to demolish it”. Anyone can demolish a house but not everyone can build a house.

There a similar story our granddad use to tell us. The story is something like this: “There was  a family that had a heavenly happiness in their life till their both sons become old enough and they wanted their respective shares from the dad’s property. Finally, they distributed everything except cow. The problem was that they had three cow and they can’t distribute it equally. So, they did a lottery to be fair. Finally, one got one cow and another one got two cow. One of the two brothers who had just one cow was so envious with the another one that he started penance. Finally, the god appeared and asked him (the brother) to ask from him (god) what he wants. Finally, he broke his year long silence and said, “My lord, my brother have got two cow, but I have got just one. I want his one cow dead so that we can be equal again. It will be fair for me.”

The moral of the story is we do not long for striving our best to compete with others, but instead we are trying to find their Achilles Heel to bring them down to our level. So, it is now up to us whether we want to believe in somebody who is trying to bring somebody else down in front of us when they are backbiting others and afterward become victim ourself to our same messenger or we should just keep doing what we want to achieve and what our target is.

Paraphrasing an “Unspoken Love”

It is said that love has no boundary: no boundary of country of origin, age, color of skin or anything else we can think of. That’s true! Can you imagine a love between a person who is schizophrenic guy and a normal girl who is condemned to die counting her final days –might be four, five or six in maximum?

I have been reading a novel, ‘Veronika Decides to Die” by Paulo Coelho. I don’t know how many of you have read it, but this post paraphrased for those who have not gone through this one. And, I hope that my review will move you and titillate a desire to read it at least once. This is one of those books I can bet, you will not be able to put it down before you consider it putting it aside for some other work. This is so gravitating!

Plot: Veronika (the main character of this novel) tries to commit suicide despite a life full-of-life: she is so beautiful that any guy on the walk would like to commit their life once and for all without considering giving a second thought to their decision if she desires to give them a chance, a nice family who takes care of all her desires and demands, her successful life professionally – a complete perfect life everybody desires to have and the one that everybody envy her for. He failed attempt to commit suicide lead her to a mental asylum where she is now counting her final days which is no more than a week or so because of devastated heart which has been damage irreparably.

Her decision to die is now taking a veer – a turning point in her life and in her last moment of her life, she feels like she wants to live this life and what she use to think is now turning to be just an illusion, and she now realizes that world is far more beautiful than what she had thought, though, she knows that he desire to live now is just like plucking star from the sky.

As she is counting her days in a mental asylum where she is being treated for her fragile heart in the last moments of her life, she meets this guy (Eduard) who is schizophrenic – who is bouncing back and forth between his own imaginative world and this real world.

During her final days in the mental asylum, she use to play piano for Eduard as he stands in the same place in front of the piano and waits for Veronika to play for him, without uttering even a single word.

Veronika decided that she had to go to bed, but Eduard was still standing by the piano.

‘I ‘m tired, Eduard. I need to sleep.’

She would like to continue playing for him, dredging upon from her anaesthetized memory all the sonatas, requiems and adagios she used to know, because he knew how to admire without appearing to demand anything of her. But she body could take no more.

He was so good looking. If only he would take one step outside his world and see her a woman, then her last nights on this earth might be the most beautiful of her entire life: Eduard was the only one capable of understanding that Veronika was an artist. Through the pure emotion of a sonata or a minuet she had forgot a bond with this man such as she had never known with anyone else.

Eduard was the ideal man, sensitive, educated; a man who had destroyed an indifferent world in order to recreate it again in his head, this time with new colours, new characters, new stories. And this new world included a woman, a piano and a moon that was continuing to grow.

‘I could fall in love right now and give everything I have to you,’ she said, knowing that he couldn’t understand her. ‘All you ask from me is a little music, but I am much more than I ever thought I was, and I would like to share other thing with you that I have only just begun to understand.’

Eduard smiled. Had he understood? Veronika felt afraid – all the manuals of good behaviour say that you should never speak of love so directly, and never to a man you barely know. But she decided to continue, because she had nothing to lose.

‘You are the only man on the face of the Earth with whom I could fall in love, Eduard, for the simple reason that, when I die, you will not miss me. I don’t know what a schizophrenic feels, but I’m sure they never miss anyone.

‘Perhaps, to begin with, you’ll miss the fact that there’s no more night music, but the moon will still rise, there’ll be someone willing to play sonatas for you, especially in a hospital, where each and everyone of us is a “lunatic”.’

She didn’t quite know what the relationship was between mad people and the moon,but it must be strong one, if they used a word like that to describe the mad.

‘And I won’t miss you either, Eduard, because I will be dead, far from here. And since I’m not afraid of losing you, I don’t care what you think or don’t think about me. Tonight I played for you like a women in love. It was wonderful. It was the best moment of my entire life.’




Something personal: Some moments of my childhood

There are things that we call our personal. If somebody is habituated of writing or maintaining their journal, those things will be confined to their personal journal or diary, or if not then, it still remains confined in their dungeon of heart somewhere hidden that would take ages for even sun to reach there – and finally, it dies with them. This is what our general conception of “secret-of-our-life” is, which is in fact true.

For centuries, we have been believing that personal things are something which is not have to be shared  because we fear that one day that fear will turn into reality and our life will be doomed as it might prove to be our Achilles hill. But, what we fend to understand or dare not to understand is that life doesn’t have a meaning in itself if it goes as it comes, and the milieu keeps on cogitating and surmising about our so called “secret-of-our-life” – more specifically; our personal life.

As a matter of fact, no body is interested in our life or whatever we are doing or engaged in (with few exceptions who are horribly and badly interested in our life) – though, thanks to them – at least our life is worth something for those folks to get into. The reason is we all have got something more substantial to think, to cogitate, to plan and engaged into to prepare ourself for the future; as it is not in our arena of control or area of influence.

Today, I have got something memorable and some of the most cherishing moments of my life to share with you all.

July 03, 1992 (Approximate)

I guess, I was six by the time I first started going to school. July 03 seemed to be one of the most sunny day that year as the sun was early up and it was all scourging hot already by 8 in the morning. I was so small that I had to hold my mom’s head while she use to sit and lace my shoes. I was bit terrified to be the first in school and it was all evident through my faces, though not as horrible as other use to have and still have at that age – thank god, I was at least not crying for which I am still getting praised from my parents for being a nice early kid.

Since my mom guessed that I might make a scene or something or make some excuse for not going to school as other kids do, she handed lacing my shoe duty to my dad that day. Forget about making the scene, I am still so scared of my dad that I can’t utter a word in front of him and I even have hard time making a second plea for something once he ignores or rebuffs.

I was standing holding his head to finish my shoe getting laced as my younger sister who was still young enough to join nursery was standing behind my mom popping her head from one side in sulking manner and evidently more scared than me. The day might have had appeared to her as if I am going to some kind of war and I have to win the battle of my life for my life. Her twinkling marbled-eyes appeared to me as if she is wishing me good luck to win that battle and come home safely………… (….life continued after that…..).  

October 1994 (Precise time and date unknown)

I was sitting in one room as my mom was preparing for worshipping (puja) the goddess-of-wealth; it was sometime in the late autumn and the festival called Tihar. The whole environment was dazzling with the bright lights all over. Those were the days when Nepal was prospering with leaps and bound with seemingly with the double digit of growth rate – unlike any other neighboring countries and unlike itself if we view in today’s context. We didn’t even know the meaning of load shedding and what’s it called when there is complete blackout because of shortage of electricity.

All the kids of my age and younger and older were appearing in colorful dresses of approaching winter season with multiple types of light illuminating fire-crackers in their hands – some getting assisted by their brother, sisters or parents to light it. It was so wonderful that I don’t find words to explain it how it really looked like.

I was sitting in my room as I was observing what my mom and my elders sisters were preparing for the puja in my newly gifted suit from my dad for the festival. Then, when dad appeared with few more clothes for my younger sister – in fact, she was and still is more loved kid in our home for being the youngest one. The environment started becoming hot as I envied her for getting something extra than me, then when dad decided to buy something extra for me as well. I didn’t know what time it was when he left home at night to my magnificent demand of that time which he might thought of utmost important to perform. He never thought twice where he had to go to find it, whether or not he would find it.

July 1995 (Time: 4:15 PM approximate)

I was already feeling monotonous and bored waiting for my dad to finish his work before he left the office before 5 PM. I was too small and uneducated to understand the sophisticated meaning of the words in one of the English paper resting on the tea-table in front of the couch I was sitting nibbling something from my hand. As a result, I had no other choice than to flip through the pages of the newspaper and pass time. First time when I saw the paper, I was so inane to think that the pictures in the paper are animated through machine to put it in the movies where the actors are singing and dancing all over the silver-screen. But, never understood the fact that from where the music was coming when they were dancing in the woods and garden. However, I was not even that curious to researching myself to find the exact answer, but contended myself thinking that, “Okay, I know! They might be hiding somewhere behind the wood with their musical instruments”.

It was raining outside when he appeared all of a sudden in front of me and without mentioning about the newspaper, he asked me to leave. Since it was raining hard we could not go out in motorbike, so even his friends suggested that we can leave after sometime. The waiting turns into hours and finally we had to leave the office in rain at around 7 PM, but fortunately, he was able to manage one raincoat somehow.

Even though it was raining that hard, he never cared for himself, but he made sure that I should not get wet. He hid me inside his baggy motorbike-raincoat and I could barely see anything outside as he drove. On the way he mentioned to me about the English newspaper and he said, “You remember that English newspaper you were turning pages through?”

“Yes!”, I answered abruptly and briskly.

“One day, he continued, when you will be able to read and understand those English newspaper, I will buy you loads of it”. And, now, I feel like I am looking at his face just like I use to when I was as tiny as I was then.




………………Thanks dad for everything!