Rabin, the poet

Video Adapted from http://limbuwan.blogspot.com/

Around 1:32pm, we caught 68X from Jordan and accompanied by Bhogen daju and Akash at Sham Shui Po & Lai Chi Kok respectively. On the way to the Poinsettia School, Bhogen daju would not stop talking. Well, he is very cheerful and energetic person. When we conversed we realised that we have not seen each other for almost 2 years, but then it was like we met regularly, as we often communicated via the cellphone. Seeing him after a while I was reminded of my kancha uncle. Anyway, we alighted from the bus at 2:15pm..


Finally at 4:30 pm, the program started. It is customary for Nepali program to begin behind the schedule.All the poets handed their poems to the programme organizer. Gradually the hall filled with poets and audience, I being among them. Even though many of the attendees were acquainted to me, I only gestured namaste and got seated next to Rabin. Bhogen daaju's public relationship skill was very impressive, whereas we sat timidly joined by Akash. I felt a bit awkward.

Poet names were called upon alphabetically and they were to recite their deeply thought and scribbled poems.
Most of the poems were quite lengthy resembling essays. Nevertheless, all poets were brilliant. It was quite knowledge giving literary program.


Rabin's turn was almost at the tail, his was the shortest poem recited but highly appreciated. Only the rhyming poem in the program. He had written it concisely and precisely. I had heard him practicing previously in front of me so I wasn't surprise to hear him.I actually intended to record his video but I missed the moment because :: secret: heheheehehe

The remarkable poets in the program were Agyat,Bhupendra,Lara,Ashok, Bhogen daaju and not to forget Aakash the youngest among all.

At least it was very worth attending and participating the program. Among the chief guests were the Nepalese Consulate General and RNAC's Regional Manager. There was raffle draw too but to our dismay we won nothing!hehehe.

Thanks to Bhogen daaju and Mr. Ganesh Ijam for the opportunity!

Rabin's Poem as below:

"गरीबको छोरो"
जून सुनको थाल जस्तो कसले झुन्ड्यायो
राति मात्रै आकाशमा त्यो किन उदायो
घाम के को डल्लो होला लाग्छ कसरी
किताबमा सबै लेख्या छ रे पढ्ने कसरी

घर हाम्रो झुपडी छ सानो घरबारी
घरको खर्च टार्नु पर्छ साहुको ऋण काढी
साँवा कति ब्याज कति जोड्ने कसरी
किताबमा सबै लेख्या छ रे पढ्ने कसरी


अचम्मैको चील गाडी त्यो आकाश रन्काउँदै
साथीहरु स्कूल जाने ताराबाजी गाउँदै
पृथ्वी यो गोलो छ रे अड्ने कसरी
किताबमा सबै लेख्या छ रे पढ्ने कसरी

आमा सधैं घर धन्दामा बहिनी बिरामी छे
मलाई पनि फुर्सद छैन दाउरा अनि घाँसले
बुवा मेरा कोइलाखात् छन् लेख्ने कसरी
किताबमा सबै लेख्या छ रे पढ्ने कसरी

बादलपारी झिलिमिली शहर छ रे स्वर्ग झैं
अघाउन्जेल खान्छन् सधैं होला त्यहाँ दशै
पैसा के हो फल्छ कहाँ टिप्ने कसरी
किताबमा सबै लेख्या छ रे पढ्ने कसरी

गरीबको रहर हजूर हुँदो रहेछ सस्तो
रात किन अँधेरो यो मेरै कर्म जस्तो
अँधेरोमा जूनकीरी बन्ने कसरी
किताबमा सबै लेख्या छ रे पढ्ने कसरी

निधारमा डोको नाम्लो बढ्ने कसरी
किताबमा सबै लेख्या छ रे पढ्ने कसरी

HK Flower Show 2008

It is Spring in Hong Kong, it means time for flowers to flourish. Every year there is flower show exhibition in Victoria Park, Causeway Bay. This year I thought like not to miss this marvellous show so myself and Rabin headed to the designated spot. We boarded the train at 2:30 pm and ten minutes later we were already queuing up for the tickets. We paid $28 and then headed to the entrance. Many flowers lovers and the students were keen on taking pictures. We were amazed by the splendid decorations and the varied types of flowers. There were many types of pansies, marigold and lot others. Marigold flowers reminded me of Dashain and Tihar back in Nepal. Gone were the days when we used to be so happy when these festivals appproached. Now seems like a distant memory. Anyway, back to the flower show again: Stalls were set up where the horticulturist could display and sell their products.
Most stunnng was the " Bonsai" wow.....they were the masterpieces .....creative art..



We were opting for the toilet, Rabin ended up easing himself off by going to the mens but then while I was on the long queue, I was annoyed by the old lady's regular suffocating type cough. I was really dyeing then to my dismay I just walked away more desperately. This toilet thing let my mood swung, few minutes ago I was really in a mood and observing flowers, a while later I just hated that place. Walking further away, I was able to ease myself off in the temporarily installed toilet. I flung open the toilet door with a huge smile on my face. God, I was finally releived........okie, so what else?



Here are the pictures of the nature beauties. So, this was our short excursion.

MYSTERIOUS TEN

Like everyone has their favorite color, quote, cuisine, place, music genre and person, whether intuitively or superstitiously I consider 10 as a special number. The very reason is that my and my best friend’s birth dates are 10th February and 10th July simultaneously. Additionally, I have been residing in Hong Kong for past 10 years. Moreover, Hong Kong recently commemorated its 10th year anniversary.

One afternoon while I was having a nap, I was woken up by my sister’s scream. “Wake up, someone is here.” I rubbed my sleepy eyes and looked at her in disbelief. I thought she was playing some sort of prank on me which she often did. I told her, “Please, do not bother me; let me catch up some sleep.” Then she said with a grin “He is on his way to visit us.” When she said “he” it meant my dad who would be spending his three months holiday with us.
That night my father arrived with two others and we were so happy to be reunited after three years. We were busy unpacking our clothes, toys and chocolates. My little sister could not help herself eyeing my stuff. She though that I might have got more or prettier things than her. Then I stared at her and she avoided her gaze. My father held me on his arms and said, “You have become taller and Menu has become chubbier.” There was a roar of laughter in the house.

After the dinner my father announced us that we were going to live in the capital city, Kathmandu. The village didn’t have good English medium schools. Many of the British army’s family were moving or either migrating to the city. He informed that we would be attending the English Boarding School. In those days, English medium schools were rapidly mushrooming up and most of the parents were busy shifting their children from cheap public schools to expensive private schools. The private schools were considered as well-cared and students could meet higher standard and achieve more not just from their academic books. The students would gain extra knowledge about the world. My dad wanted us to give the best he could so that we would brighten our future. It was his profound intention and my mum supported his idea whole-heartedly. Hearing my parents talk, I had both mixture of happiness and sadness.

After the dinner, my parents gathered to have words with grand father. I quietly slipped in our backyard and just stayed there staring at the sky. I could not help thinking about my village and my grand-parents who loved me dearly. My village was a heaven, so peaceful, fresh and clean air, very friendly and generous people, freshly hand-picked vegetables grown in our backyards and fields and the cattle that grazed in the healthy Pasteur. I was going to miss all of these and thoughts made my heart pound heavily. I was going to miss my grand dad how he used to milk the cows and churned the yogurts. Even we were well-off and had servants, he used to milk cows every morning followed up with his daily routines. I would stay near him and watched his task and sometimes I would help him to stir the milk. He would simmer the milk for us for breakfast and lunch. I would watch admiringly to our helpers who used to lit the woods and cook food. I enjoyed watching the scene in spite of my eyes filled with tears due to the smoke produced from the woods. They were pleased when I helped them cut and stir the vegetables.
The very next morning we headed to the airport, which we had to walk for a day. All the way to the airport, I was quite and reserved. Our journey began with stiff hills, and then followed by dense forests, in many places there were no sight of people’s existence. At the end of the day even my legs hurt, I enjoyed the whole journey. The people were stunned to see me walking on my father’s pace. Being able to walk in my dad’s pace was my exhilarating experience. Unlike my mother and sisters, they were so slow as if like a snail’s pace. When the people praised me I was over the moon and that was crystal-clear on my rosy face. I was proven as a tough little girl. We spent the night in my cousin’s cozy hotel.

The next morning, the plane took off at 9am and landed in Kathmandu airport at 09:45, we had an escort. Apparently he was my dad’s friend and we were to stay at his house. On the way to our new house, I was awed to see heavy traffics, crowded roads, buses packed with people, vehicles exhausting carbon dioxide. I fumbled my bag and pulled out a handkerchief. My eyes were dried and I hardly could open them. Inside the van, squeezed in between my parents I was suffocating. My head was throbbing and my neck was tired. I felt drowsy. When I opened my eyes, my parents and siblings were already being escorted to the house we were going to live.

Getting off the van, I followed them and was excited to see our new house. It was a three-story marveled house with a big garden; the garden was adorned with various species of flowers and tall trees. Seeing the natural beauty, my instincts told me that I would love the new place. I envisioned watering the flowers every morning.

As the evening approached, my mind was wondering off. Being in the new house, new bed and new city was so much for me within a short time. I feared whether I would be able to survive with the new life styles. I was only a 10 year old girl, and I wondered why my mind was acting like an adult’s. This queer feeling gave me a panic. Even my elder sister seemed normal and she didn’t react awkwardly. I, on the other hand was being reserved and it meant that something was bothering me. Lying down on the bed at night, I was tossing and turning around, that was a sleepless night.

The next morning I woke up quite late and my body was totally exhausted. I washed my face and sat on the patio brushing my teeth, next to my sister who was busy eating. My eyes caught to a woman in pink sari. There was a heavy traffic, the vehicles were honking and it seemed to me that there was no traffic rule at all. That scene only churned my stomach and gave me a bad feeling. I wondered what if in the midst of the crowd, the woman is hit by the car, what will happen to her husband and perhaps her children of my age. I wonder whether she was some sort of academic person and was going to attend lecture in the educational institutes. My heart thumped when a car halted in front of her and gave a piercing honk. To my relief, the car door flung open, and the woman in the pink sari got in. Just a day in the city, I already sensed a noise pollution and environmental pollution.

A week later, we got admitted to the best boarding school in the city. Again, my fear escalated. I wondered what will be the new school like, the uniforms, the classmates, the teachers and their disciplinary conducts. I wondered whether I would be bullied by my fellow classmates or will I intimidate them. With heavy heart, my parents left us to the new school. My father’s leave was going to be over; he was talking my mum and my younger brother with him. My mum said “Girls, be nice, we will call you once a week, write you letters and send you parcels. After three years you will come to see us. But now it is important for you to attend school, when you grow up with a proper education it will be for your own good.” We nodded our head as an acceptance. My father who was quite while my mum was advising us said “Renu, you will take care of your younger sister. We will call you often.” My father became emotional when he said and turned his back towards us. I assumed he cried and wiped his tears away. They fabricated goodbye and promised to call us every Friday night. With tearful eyes, we waved them until they were out of our sights.

My delicate mind wasn’t quite sure why they had to leave us in the boarding school. Deep inside me I felt we were kind of abandoned by them. For couple of weeks, I never got to understand their motives. A week later when my mum called us then I realized how much they adored us, leaving us behind was the biggest sacrifice they made. Then I realized that my father wanted us to give the life that he never had when he was a child himself. He wanted us to give the best education he could. Then I sensed my parents were the best parents in the whole entire world. I felt I stooped so low when I doubted my parents. Realizing my cynicism towards them, I vowed that I will never let them down. I promised myself that I would become an exceptional an exemplary child. I gasped realizing how foolishly I have suppressed my feelings.

Having faced with ups and downs in life, I am currently in the Asia’s World City, where my father served for British, who as a father and as a husband duly fulfilled his obligations. No matter how old I am, there will always be a 10 year old girl inside me, reserved yet friendly, distant but caring.

I do not know whether I am lucky or not but I do know for sure that number 10 has always played mysteriously in my life.