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!