White Washed

Snow came to New York with all its swirl,  swish and swash. Persisted the whole night. Left the city, snow-cladded like a maiden making her way to the altar to be wed-locked 'till death do us apart'.

Left the city at an utter standstill until, like some rodents peeping their head out from their hideouts, when silence prevails, neighbors ventured out with shovels to commence their Winter Ritual. I followed suit. 

Cladded in my warmest, I ventured out with shovel in my hand to tame the White World sprawled outside as far as my eyes could see. With polite Good Morning to the neighbor I put myself to task. But soon realized the dilemma; there was so much snow it was hard to decide where to put the snow that I shoveled out from my drive way. Peeked at my neighbor, like a schoolboy would do in his exam time and saw him making a trench out of the snow in his door way. I did the same.

My car was a big mould of snow...the windshield wipers protruding out like grasshopper's antenna. If shoveling my doorway was physical labor, I thought, rescuing my car from under the snow, unscathed, would need an artistic talent.

Ventured out couple of streets down and realized, I was not even scratching the surface. Streets were strewn with abandoned cars, buses and taxis. Walking was an Everest Expedition.

In Memory of Suku Maya Tamang

All lives end. We grow up knowing this. We all know that we all die one day. But still the dying itself....even a thought of it, makes chill run down your spine, or makes your heart turn cold. The dull ache you feel, the creeping uneasiness that surge in your heart with the mention of death...what is it? The fear of unknown - as many tell you it is? Or the fear of losing what you have? Until death, love makes life enjoyable. Love is the only hope that drives us. Love makes even death palatable at times.

The power that we have, that we call memory, is a strange thing. We live with it....we might die if our memory is taken away from us...on purpose or inadvertently sometimes.  Suku Maya aunty passed away last week. I have ten years of memories about her. I have known her in her good days, I have known her in her bad days. I am meaning to cherish her memories. I am wanting to keep her memories and make it outlast my life.

Love, memories, happiness; and then there comes death to take everything away from us; leaving a big void in our heart, that takes another century to fill with love. Another process of living, another process of building,  and then again...a cruel blow of fate one day, might shatter it into pieces, which you don't even know, at times, where is it coming from, until it hits you hard and throws you reeling on the floor...this probably is what we call life...the endless process of love, death, and amending...

Suku Maya aunty died last week, leaving behind her fond memories in our heart. The thousand things that we did together, the thousand things we said to each other, the thousand things we expected from each other, that make up memories, that she left behind for us to cherish....life is just memories, I guess. Memories bundled up together, memories put together to make up history.

Suku Maya aunty was a prominent figure in our Tamang Society in New York. A soft spoken person, always smiling, always willing to help others, always willing to bless you. My last memory with her, which I am not going to let go ever, is her blessing she bestowed upon me, just the day before she left for India, where she passed away in a hospital. Suku Maya aunty was terminally ill.

I heard, after she died and when her body was being taken to her home from the hospital, as luck would have it, she came across a procession of Holy Lamas...who blessed her soul in the process. Is it a mere coincidence or the fate's hand that was at work I don't know, but Suku Maya aunty who always wanted to bless others got her much needed Holy blessings from the hands of Holy Lama's while she was in the procession of death...on her journey to the unknown. May her soul rest in peace. May love prevail her soul.

Building of My House

When it comes to digging into my 'hoardings' I am so dexterous. I am so  meticulous, I do not miss anything. On one of such excursions, I found what I was looking for, which of course, was bound to happen as I am, as I said above, is so good at it. 

I found the picture of my old house that I built in my village, Phakhel after coming to USA in 1974. As one never forgets first love, I never forget this house. Oh, the building of this house! The imagery comes back to my mind, so fresh and so vivid as if it happened just yesterday even though it happened more than 30 years ago. 

The best thing about building this house was, it was built by my family and the neighbors alone. We did not hire any architect....architect in the true sense of the word. The village bricklayers were the architect and we were labors. We carried bricks in 'dokos', knead our own mud, cut our own timbers, we did everything by ourselves to build this house:) I remember bringing the slate tiles for the roof from Gajuri (Dhading district) in a truck. But it took the laborers I hired more than a week to carry them on their back using 'doko' and 'namlo' uphill to the construction site, which was about three or four miles on foot from where the tiles were unloaded. And the roof of the adjacent house, in which my sister lives now, was brought from Kathmandu. The tiles were from a Rana's house and very different from those regular tiles that were in use then.

I remember the daily lunch preparation for the workers. Oh, they used be like fiesta. My mother along with the help from female members of the neighborhood used to prepare it. 

Now I think of it, the harmony in the collectiveness of the whole village for the one cause - the building of that house...the 'phenomenon', ... the solidarity...is it how 'uprising' feel like? Whatever it was, I can still feel it every time I look at that picture of my house, maybe it was the feeling of creation. 

LEND YOUR HAND TO ANURADHA

           That petit woman hoisting the CNN award in front of the cheering crowd of supporters and well-wishers, at the fourth annual "CNN Heroes: An All-Star Tribute" is not any ordinary housewife from Nepal. She is the crusader, Anuradha Koirala, who has been fighting against sex-slavery and human trafficking in Nepal through her organization Maiti Nepal for almost 2 decades now. She established Maiti Nepal (maiti means Mother's House in Nepali) in 1993 and ever since she has rescued more than 12,000 women and girls who had been sold to various brothels in India. Through Maiti Nepal, she has provided the women and girls rescued thus. She has created a home for them. Maiti Nepal is a place for those girls to heal, learn skills, get educated and for those who are infected by HIV/AIDS, it is an abode of compassion and support to live their rest of the lives. 

"Human trafficking is a crime, a heinous crime, a shame to humanity," Anuradha Koirala said after being introduced as one of the top 10 CNN Heroes of 2010. " I ask everyone to join me to create a society free of trafficking. We need to do this for all our daughters." 

In a country where fathers' sale their own daughters at times, due to poverty, being a fighter against human trafficking must be like swimming against the tide, let alone the fight she has to put up with the buyers and miscreants in India, the Mafia responsible for the whole chain of misdeed.  One top of that , the fight she has to put up with the victims themselves is colossal in itself. Once sold to the brothels, girls and young women, at times, prefer not to go back to Nepal due to the fear of being outcasted for good from the society they grew up, even from their own house, which is nothing new in a very constrained and conservative Nepali society.  

Durning the CNN ceremony Demi Moore praised Anuradha thus: "Everyday this woman confronts the worst of what humanity has to offer." "She says, 'Stop. Stop selling our girls'. By raiding brothels and patrolling the India-Nepal border, she saves girls from being sold into the sex trade, where they are being repeatedly raped for profit, tortured and enslaved."

Anuradha, indeed, is a gem among us. And she deserves all the awards and support that we can give her. I wish more Anuradha like her would be born so that if she was to falter, if she was to stagger, if she was to stop with her hands on her hip and look up at the appalling hill of yet another 'heinous act of human grotesqueness' and waiver at her own strength doubtfully, another Anuradha would put her hand on her shoulder and say, " Sister, you slow down, I will carry forward."

On Paul's Demise

Paul the Octopus died yesterday (Tuesday, 26 October, 2010). He had a short physical life span of two and a half years but in the course of living this short physical life he earned himself, probably, the longest ever life span amongst cephalopods, in the memories of co-existing homo sapiens.

Paul had this knack of predicting things that was going to happen in the future correctly. I don't know where he got it from but he thrilled the world recently in the summer World Cup in South Africa predicting correctly the outcome of all seven Germany matches and the final between Spain and the Netherlands.


Reportedly, he died a natural death and his caretakers in the Sea Life Aquarium in Germany say that Paul will be cremated in the next few days. His ashes will be placed in an urn and displayed in a shrine, along with a portrait and video clips from his life. They have already set up a condolence book where people can write their tributes to Paul.

Paul's news made me contemplate about the ongoing 'inability' of political leaders back in Nepal to even elect a prime minister for the country. I was wondering, now that Paul is dead and gone, and that while he was alive he was so good at predicting things, why not we summon his spirit to help us elect a prime minister in Nepal?


We would put all the eligible candidates inside separate boxes, each containing food in the form of a mussel and mark each box with the candidate's name and his election symbol. Candidate from whichever box Paul's spirit eats the mussel first will become the Prime Minister of Nepal. 

How about that?

  

Meeting Nir Shah...

I have always admired Nir Shah as a movie actor. His consistency in Nepali cinema is unwavering ever since I have know him in the big screen. I still remember his outstanding performance in Prem Pinda - a historic movie.

One of the prominent architects of Nepali celluloid world, Nir Shah has always been in limelight also because he is not just a movie actor but also a poet, lyricist, movie director and a businessman.

I had an opportunity to invite him in my Queens abode one

evening recently along with some of my friends here in Queens. Nir Shah was in a business trip in New York. One of my cousins, Shanta B. Thokar, arranged for the meeting.

I found Nir Shah very considerate and warm human being. It was a strange experience talking with a person who I had only seen in the movies, before that night. The somewhat inaccessibility about him vanishing as soon as I met him in flesh and blood gave me a strange feeling of closeness towards him.

I am not a talkative person but I am an observant one.

After he left for the airport – his plane was due in couple of hours – I could not help but think, was this the ‘luck lurking’ phenomenon that is smiling upon me lately which made this chance meeting possible?

I remember telling him: “I feel lucky that you have stepped in the threshold of my humble abode”

or words to that effect.

First the inheritance then the notebook now Nir Shah, luck is really smiling at me.

But still the faith is: Do not overrate what you have received, nor envy others. He who envies others does not obtain peace of mind as Buddha says.

Chile Miners’ Rescue

The emotional roller coaster, the rescued Chilean cruised through seems to come to a halt now. I have been watching closely the tear jerking reunion, the euphoria, the bravados after the rescue. 

I have been pondering how they must have felt down there – living for 69 days half a mile down the surface of earth not knowing they will ever be rescued.

I was hoping each of the 33 miners trapped since 5 August would come up with their version of the anecdote about how they felt, what happened, what they ate, how they kept going, what was their faith etc but it seems that they made a blood pact down there to bury their stories behind. 

By the occasional contradiction between even brief statements from some of the miners, it can be guessed that other than the circumstantial hardship, they had to overcome squabbles amongst themselves and there was even a breach among them that divided them into 3 different groups but it is nothing unusual in such dire situations. 

I am assuming, the food rationing they handled perfect and their individual responsibility and willingness to comply with the rule did a greatest job in their survival and ultimate rescue. They survived 17 days in half a spoonful of tuna twice a day. This is a great feat under such appalling circumstance. 

Anyway, all is well that ends well, as they say!

Kudos to los 33.

Happy Birthday Shortest Man

Remember turning 18? I don’t. I was probably plowing my land or carrying some hefty load of fodder, when I did. But for some turning 18 is the biggest day in their life. 

Khagendra Thapa Magar turned 18 two days ago on 14 October, 2010. 

Khagendra the worlds shortest man from our own country Nepal turned 18 and the whole world is watching him. He has been measured to be 26.4 inch tall which entitled him to be the shortest man in the world. On his 18th birthday the officials from Guinness World Records declared him to be the shortest man in the world. 

He has also been featured in the new Ripley’s Believe It or Not! book, Enter If You Dare!, will officially take the title of world’s shortest man this week.

Khagendra has earned another title recently – Nepal’s Goodwill Ambassador. His mission will be to help the country attract 1 million tourists next year.

All right, he will be helping the country in so many ways but what are his own chances? In other words, is he getting equal amount of attention from the country he hails from? 

Anyway, let’s leave that for the future....meanwhile, Happy Birthday little man. 

Niagara Falls Shootout

Niagara Falls Shootout

On Labor Day weekend we went to visit Niagara Falls. Well, who hasn’t seen Niagara Falls or who doesn’t know about Niagara Falls? I myself have been there couple of times already. But this time, for some strange reasons, I felt ‘liberated’ even from the outset of the planning. My heart was fluttering like that of a school boy since the time we started taking about this visit. I still cannot tell for sure why I was feeling like that.

Our trip to Montana about two weeks ago had been exhilarating. Maybe the positive vive that I had experienced during Montana visit had not subsided yet. Probably one pleasant experience was giving rise to another one. Whatever it was I was in cloud nine as soon as we mentioned about Niagara Falls.

 

As soon as we set out, I found out why I was so happy. I had great time taking photos in Montana and Niagara Falls was another such opportunity for me. I took lots of photos. I also shot videos. I have uploaded some here for you to view. Let me know how you like it?

Damphu Saanjh, 2010

Damphu Saanjh 2010 New York,USA

After it’s establishment in 2001 by a handful of enthusiastic Tamangs living in New York, Tamang Society of America has grown into a full-fledged not-for-profit organization over the years. With the sole intention of preserving Tamang culture, heritage, and religion Tamang Society of America (TSA) have been organizing various cultural, social and sportive functions/events to bring together Tamangs inhabiting mainly in New York and vicinity.

One of the indigenous inhabitants of Nepal who are mainly distributed across Himalayan regions, Tamangs are deemed as brave, honest and diligent group of Nepali people who has a long and tortured history of oppression and discrimination in the hands of the then ruling body consisting mainly of Brahmin and Chhetri castes, the disheartening aftermath of class system. They were refrained from actively participating in the mainstream social life only because they were given the lower strata of social class system by the then ruling system. They were deprived of the opportunity for formal education as well, owing to which they were forced to leave their homeland and wander away in search of work mainly to the neighboring cities of India.

Despite their not very glorious background, Tamangs have come a long way in the present day to become a very self-sufficient and independent group of people who has fared very well, especially in the foreign-lands, where their honesty, bravery and diligent temperament have carve them a consistent niche. Tamang Society of America (TSA) is one of the many such examples of their integrity.

Over the years TSA have touched the lives of Tamangs living in New York in one way or another. It’s effort have culminated into a very large membership in the Society and it has encouraged other Tamangs residing in the other parts of USA like Boston, Washington DC, Virginia, Texas, Connecticut, Montana, Georgia, Pennsylvania, California and even in some parts of Canada. Their original cultural program ‘Damphu Saanjh’ organized every two years during the time of Tamang New Year has become a well-expected event for all the Tamangs living in the USA.

Damphu is traditional Tamang drum. In tune with Tungna, accompanying string musical instrument, Tamangs perform their beloved Tamang Sello, their most original dance. Dampu Saanjh is maily nomenclature to denote that the Evening (Saanjh) with Damphu (the Tamangs traditional drum), or in other words the evening of merriment and joy.

This years Damphu Saanjh was organized by Tamang Society of America on the inevitably freezing night of 6th of February – sorry, we can’t guarantee weather kind of dilemma. However, the venue, Dhaka Club in Woodside, Queens was brimming to the fullest. No one announced but it was like ‘early bird gets the best worms (in this case seats)’ kind of situation. People were standing even to the far end of the hall. And the best part of it was; everybody seemed to be enjoying.

After the customary introduction and individual speech of Board Members and presiding special guest and present other guests, Damphu Saanjh kicked off with songs from our heartthrob singers duo Prem Lopchan and Roj Moktan. Tamang Society of America specially invited them from Nepal for this program. Audiences were dancing in the tunes of their jolly songs and some sad songs, especially sang by Prem Lopchan some audiences were even shedding tears, reminiscent of their beloved ones back home in Nepal. In the same manner, as his approach towards audience would tell, Roj Mokatan, more audience singer, was making everybody come near the stage and dance. In all it was an unforgettable night.

Local Tamang kids did very well in their presentation of Tamang dances. Asmita Lama, Sabita Lama, Aayushma Lama, Zina Tamang, Alishesh Rai, Rhea Tamang performed a delightful dance in tunes of ubho, ubho lagyo. Ashish Lama, Siddhartha Tamang, Roshna Moktan, Dolma Lama presented another dance in tunes of amoil – a Tamang song. Alfa Lama, Sweta Lama (winner of teen beauty contest in Boston), Jenny Tamang and Nisha Gurung from Boston presented wonderful dance in tune of Nepali-mix number. Also Ashish Moktan, Anish Moktan along with Zina Tamang and Sabita Lama came up with another jolly dance number pani ma khane supari dana.

However, most memorable is Jeny Yonjon from Connecticut. This plump little girl won the hearts of the audience by her solo dance in tunes of tikuli hai. She was so lovely and pert in her dance movements that looking at her was kind of melody in itself.

At the later end of the program the melee changed dramatically. Phiroj Syangden took over the stage with his hard rock outfit, strumming his electric guitar accompanying thrumming of virtuoso drumming. Youngsters and even not so young audience enjoyed his Nepali rock songs very much. As Phiroj Syangden was already very popular through his rock band 1974 A.D. he pulled a real crowd at the end of the program and everybody seemed to enjoy his songs very much.

This year’s Damphu Saanjh has some other unprecedented highlights as well. Never before in the history (even if short) Tamang Society of America, had any high ranking US official was invited or never before any Nepali singers invited from Nepal for specific Tamang Society of America programs had ever been granted visa to enter USA for their performances.

President of Tamang Society of America, Mr. Indra Tamang seems very proud and contented and must have felt very useful to have accomplished all this during his tenure. During his tenure, Mr. John Liu, New York City Comptroller and Mr. Daniel Dromm, Council Member, Jackson Heights were present in the Damphu Saanjh program. They addressed the audience with words of encouragements and thankfulness to have been invited thus. Hopefully, this trend will be carried on during the presidency of upcoming presidents of Tamang Society of America as well because it is a very wise and brave step from Mr. Indra Tamang in introducing Tamang Society of America to America itself. Presumably, it might open new doors for the future of Tamang Society of America in USA.

Many members and sympathetic individuals who helped selflessly to bring about Damphu Saanjh were duly award that night through the hands of His Excellency Ambassador Mr. Gyan Chandra Acharya.

In all Damphu Saanjh 2010 was a great success! by Kiran Singh

Thank you my friends

My dear friends,

Thank you for leaving comments in my blog. I am very happy to find that my story inspired you. I am also  very happy to receive blessings from you.

It is not that I am not happy to have inherited Ruth Ford’s estate. How could I not be happy? I am much, much obliged towards her for what she did for me before living this world. Without her thoughtfulness, without her kindness towards me, I would not be what I am today. I was just trying to say that I am NOT changed by the wealth I inherited. That I will try my best to remain “unchanged” by the wealth. I will keep on being what I used to be.

I recently read in a web magazine that wrote: “He admitted that suddenly being in the spotlight went straight to his head.” The source of the article was my blog. Nothing went straight or sideways to my head. I was just trying to say that I was overwhelmed by media attention I was getting which was making my head reel, which was making me see stars, as when one gets hit in his head by something hard.  And who would not be, especially when one is like me. I came from small village in Nepal, partially educated, shy by nature. If I was some movie star or some politician who is used to being questioned in front of cameras that would be a different story.

Maybe my English might have caused the misunderstanding but that was what I was trying to say.  But when I read your responses, which I received in my email, I thought well, not everybody misunderstood my intentions. Not everybody took what I wrote in my blog in a different way than what I intended to impart.

I thank you for that. I am inspired by your stories too. Some of you are going through very hard times. I am sorry for that. But trust me, only way out of hard times is to do what you have at hand with honesty, diligent, and care. We all go through thick and thin. To not to be too happy in good times or too sad in bad times is the name of the game.  

Namaste and best regards

What happened to Indra?

Where I was? Why I was not picking of my HOME phone? Well, I was not home. I was in a visit to Montana in an invitation from my daughter and her husband. I would definitely pick up the phone and talk, if I was home, especially when a reporter was calling. I wonder why I was not contacted in my cell phone.

What happened to Indra?

Nothing has happened to me.  I am same old Indra 'pining' to be what I have always been. As far as I can remember, I never ever commented in any news media that I was 'pining' for my mud house back in Nepal. I remember saying that I rather be left alone as I always was. I was indicating my life with my family in my house in Queens, not in the mud house in Nepal when I said that. I was saying that I was hit by the media because I was not prepared for it and I was never a very 'bold' person to face such interviews, that too so impromptu. When one gets hit in the head hard one sees stars swarming around his head - quiet common experience. I was trying to make a metaphor, I guess, which because of my 'broken English' sounded like I was boasting about my so called 'success'. And 'success' in the inverted meant, it was not success at all. If one reads  my blog CAREFULLY, one can easily figure it out, even if it was written in 'broken English'.

I had wonderful time with my daughter's family in Montana. When one works 7 days a week for 36 years without any vacation one tend to feel like he is boiling in a pressure cooker. Besides, New York compared to Montana, if this attempt to make a metaphor does not produce wrong meaning AGAIN, is like a pressure cooker. I escaped from the huge pressure cooker and landed in the serenity of Montana, and savored the nature to my fill for almost two weeks. I had the best of times in God only knows how long. It would taste even better if I had not had to face the biased question of "What happened to Indra?", when I got home.

Don't you think I deserve a little vacation for myself? I think I do.

Lucky Pick

You never know where bad luck is lurking or good luck for that matter. I am talking about good luck this time. I have been harping about hard work lately. “If you work hard with honestly, perseverance and patience you get lucky.” However, yesterday was different. I did not do much to get lucky. Well, I did go to the picnic though.

I was invited to the Tamang picnic at Flushing Meadows Park, New York. During usual fun sharing which is normal in a picnic, I bought a raffle ticket. Actually, I was insisted again and again to buy it. I gave in and bought one anyway. And lo’ it got me a notebook computer. I guess that was the first time I got something without doing much.

“Again?” I could hear someone exclaiming behind me. She probably meant, after getting lucky with the Dakota apartments. Well, I don’t know…probably good luck comes in chain as well. I am just wondering when it is going to stop. But faith has it: Buddha guides you through thick and thin…

I am going with the flow…

Thank you Mr. Koirala.

I am so aloof from politics. Any politics. Especially the politics of Nepal for that matter. People know me know that I never talk about politics.

I never make any comments; neither for nor against any political party. To tell you the truth, I really don’t know what comments to make. I don’t follow politics at all.

When Janasamparka Tayari Samiti, USA hosted a program to honor  me, I was nothing but surprised. Later when I found out that the current Acting President, Nepal Congress Party, Mr. Sushil Koirala was the chief guest of the program I was nothing but dumbfounded.

Me? Why?

Not that I never met Mr. Koirala before but in a program especially to honor me? Honestly I was little embarrassed. Maybe ‘embarrassed’ is a bit too hard a word but, you know, I did not feel comfortable about it.

All this misgivings that was haunting me before the program vanished in the thin air later on though. I felt proud of myself that I was in the program. I felt important and humbled at the same time.

I have met Mr. Koirala several times in New York. I have attended in all the programs hosted locally to honor Mr. Koirala in the past. I have always found him very polite, sincere and understanding. But I saw another aspect of Mr. Koirala that day.

He could infuse others with self-importance, confidence and self-assurance. I am so thankful for him for making me feel so important in that program. I felt I am not just another person down the block but I have something in me that is more important than I ever thought before.

Thank you Mr. Koirala.

Then again, I could not help but ponder, was it another of the loop in chain of luck that I am experiencing lately? Was the ‘luck lurking’ phenomenon in action that day as well? Whatever it was, faith is: Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it as Buddha says.

Poor Paul

The Germans wanted poor Paul - of course, Paul the Octopus - to be roasted in public! What is his crime? I don't know how many among his 9 brains was he using but he was predicting as if he was underwater Nostradamus. And wasn't he just in predicting what he saw was going to happen? He saw Germans going home so he predicted accordingly. I think Germans are overreacting. Are they blaming Paul for their poor game as well? Not that their game was THAT poor but you know, people are so prone in blaming other people. Ironically, this time it is not 'other people' the Germans are blaming. Poor Paul must have had sleepless nights until the Spaniard decided to transfer him to Madrid zoo - safest place yet. Or is it still a 'maybe' thing? If yes, they better hurry up before Poor Paul's life span proceeds his transfer to Madrid.

Golden Roses

Collage by Indra Tamang.

 Browsing through the internet I bumped into my own collage - Golden Roses in Milk magazine www.milkmag.org/ drunkenboat2.htm) for Arthur Rimbaud's poem Drunken Boat. 

 I don't remember precise date when I created that collage. I really did not give much thought about the collage back then but looking at it now gives me a sense of peaceful authority. 

 Hey, that's my baby!

Update: I found out that www.milkmag.org has been shutdown. However I am posting the original one that I scanned. 

Happy Birthday, Dear Ruth

Dear Ruth, Happy Birthday

You would have been 99 years young today! 

Around 3:00 PM. Weather was 100 degrees outside. Drove to Manhattan. Went to Korean grocery at 73rd and Columbus Ave. Bought two bouquets of orchid. Went to the Dakota. One bouquet was for you. Placed it above the fire place in your living room. The  other one next to the urns!

Miss you

Indra

4th of July Weekend

Spend July 4th weekend with family at Great Wolf Lodge, Pocono, PA

World Cup Argentina vs. Germany

Don't cry ARGENTINA for losing the game. 
it is just a game, not a shame! 
There will always be another world cup
You just have to keep your morality up...


                                              0-4
                             ARGENTINA - GERMANY
                                       July 3, 2010

 You can PLEASE some of the people all the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot PLEASE all of the people all the time.   

I rather be Indra

It hit me hard as hell. I knew it would hit me but I never thought it would hit me that hard so suddenly. I thought it would spar a little with me and would let me go...fluster me a little and that would be all. But it hit me harder than hell. The stars in my head lingered quite some time. The brightest lasted a good part of a week. It still shows up...sporadic though...but it still comes back sometimes -the sporadic media interviews, invitation to host talk shows, chair a program hosted to recognize my own 'success'.

I never thought I would be media blitzed the way I was when the news that Ruth left everything she had in my name hit the media. Mud house dweller from Nepal as I was, it shook me quite a bit, even though I have been spending the best part of each day in Dakota Building for 36 years in New York City. I never learnt how to handle such pressure.

"Congratulation, Indra, it is your hard work and honesty that did the trick"

"Hey, Indra, we are so happy for you".

"What's going on, Indra. Are you enjoying life."

I get these all the time. I wish it had been just like these. Milder, sincere and warm. Honest, pure and direct. Mud house dweller as I was I rather live in my own cocoon. I rather be Indra of yore. I rather live my own life than try to be someone else.