Birthday Ride

2345 Hrs, 24 Feb: Back home after a long tiring day/evening at office.

0000 Hrs: Turned on my cam to record the first video blog ‘Happy Birthday, Gopal’. Didn’t feel like any extraordinary change though, was just an ordinary night; the clock was still ticking the same way as it does always. Even the video was the worst ever, with me lost in the dark an

d strongly required recycle bin. I was too exhausted and before I tried doing any other crazy stuff, I was lost in dream.

(Time unknown, somewhere in Dream): “Happy Birthday my son!” It was so bright out there, couldn't figure out where it was, but the voice was so known, I couldn't see her, but she was there, my grandma.

0230 Hrs: I suddenly woke up amidst chaos in the other room which has been rented to a family looking after their bedridden patient. One of the family members suffered a terrible stomach-ache, and his sister, helpless, was crying out of fear, while others were busy trying to call ambulance. The man who suffered the stomach-ache was talking like it was his last pain helping his sister to cry more. Soon, the ambulance arrived giving some relief to the environment. What a terrible scene to start with.

While things got normal, everyone else seemed slept, but I was still awake as if I was rejoicing my birth day. But there were no plans, no birthday celebration and no excitement too. I said to myself, probably, this is going to be like my usual ordinary day, the same routine I would follow, out of bed at 10, to realize that I just missed the cool morning. At 11, I might be checking emails in office, the same boring place to be in. By 1230, I would be back at my room for second installment of sleep, and TV would take over my evening.

I looked at my bike, it was shiny and clean, its wheel demanding to get dirty, I heard a sound from within, ‘let’s go to Dhankuta’, and the next moment, I approved it. I always had this desire to go somewhere far through hills on bike ride, but never could allocate time for myself, for my happiness and it’s like, I am two people inside, one that represents the original me and the other that represents ‘Gopal’ – the one that I am to the world. Everytime I get back to bed after a long tiring day, my other self seems questioning me for what I did the whole day. I try justifying what extraordinary I have done, how I could bring smile on someone’s face, how amazing my day was, did these and those. And, suddenly a question pops out, ‘what did u do for yourself?’ I always ignore this inquiry and it remains unanswered. Sometime, when my loving ones seem distant, I then try to befriend myself which in turn seems curled up the other way demanding the question to get answered.

Thoughts started twinkling in to invite Gaurav from Damak, or my friend in Biratnagar (who I was not sure if she was still in Biratnagar) or someone from office, or my uncle for the ride. But, it was too early in the morning to give them a ring, and before they would apply for leave and stuffs, I would have got late. I really didn't want to disappoint myself yet again on my birthday cancelling the plans like I always do. Without giving a second thought, I started preparing my back pack.

My jacket seemed angry with my plan; the zipper slider blew off. I tried the other one, it too malfunctioned. Thought to ignore the cool wind that would erode me, I adjusted the zipper for temporary use with hope that I would meet a tailor to fix it up somewhere on the way.

0600 Hrs: Ready to go!!!!

I started from Kali Temple. This is the place where my grandma used to bring me in to celebrate my birthday. She then used to buy sweets to distribute. She always remembered my birthday and she was the only one who could make me feel special on this day. Even during her final year, when she had lost her memory due to serious diabetic shock, she was not able to recognize anyone; not even her sons but she still remembered me and my birth date. She was so special and she still is.

I also missed my sister, together we used to be in this temple to pray and to check if the ‘temple cap’ was still there in its place lol. (don’t know the exact translation for Gajur :) ). After my grandma, she is the only one who I love being in this temple with and feel blessed. I tried recording a video, inspired by James Franco in the movie 127 Hours, but those loud speakers around the temple didn't help me.

It was just a crack of dawn, college girls were staring at me when I was trying to shoot the video, beggars were awaiting for their part of treat and my bike was showing its hunger for fuel. Soon, I was out on the highway and gradually speeding up.

I threw out my frustration at Nepal Oil Corporation when I paid some 1100 bucks to refuel my bike. Fuel tank completely filled up, my pulsar seemed happy, racing at its best. Audioslave started beating “I am the highway” on my earphone, and I soon stopped for a quick video shoot. “It’s 0630 AM in the morning, and as you can see, this is Biratnagar Gate. Biratnagar ends here and this highway goes to Dhankuta. ‘m alone but I’m looking forward for a wonderful trip, it’s my birthday and this is my way of celebrating it.” Sailing through the cold foggy environment, I continued the ride, simultaneously recording a video “So, here ‘m accelerating through this cold wind, enjoying this damn good song, and yes, it seems like ‘m having fun’. I soon realized that this act of craziness might help me invite an accident or could exhaust the memory stick, so I thought not to record any video, and gave the camera some rest.

I was shocked to see my uncle on the way (later knew he was returning back from Khanar)and he was more shocked to see me early in the morning on the highway. He didn't wish me for my birthday and it was completely unsurprising, no one in my family remembers my birthday now.

I soon reached Duhabi bridge where the sun was just about to rise.The sky was red and beautiful. I always regret that I am not a good photographer, if I were; I would have been able to capture its beauty more efficiently.The sunshine was so lovely, and I felt like it wasshining only for me; to bring me a birthday wish.

Definitely, remembered some very lovely moments that we had spent here during our bike trips to Chintan Chautari, remembered everyone in the group and moved on.

I was so happy to see a tailor shop at Khanar and they were so delighted to start their day gaining an easy income. While they were experimenting with few zipper sliders, I started Opera applet on my mobile to check email from my sister who must have, by then, emailed me a birthday wish. Yes, I was right, there was an especial note, my first birthday wish from my dearest sister. I smiled to thank; but tailor misunderstood it was for him; anyway, I thanked him too, he had helped me survive out there in the cold.

Dharan was just rising. I terribly needed a breakfast but there were hardly any shops open. Hills begun from here. With the first turn on the hill, the first string of happiness touched my heart, the feeling of being free and far from everything and everyone was quite awesome. The music was still on and gave a perfect blend to my happiness.

0815 Hrs: Reached Bhedetar. I was too hungry by then. I stopped for some breakfast. “Egg-thukpa”, my birthday breakfast was quite delicious. I didn't want to climb up to the CharlesPoint. We have visited Bhedetar for almost twenty times and each time we visit here, we are atCharles Point. So, it was not that exciting any more. I skipped Charles Point and headed towards Dhankuta.

Roads sloped downward from here, at 60 km/hr, it was like a free-fall. “Give me some sunshine, Give me some rain, Give me another chance, Oh! I wanna grow up once again!” the song was inspiring me to sing along, cool air bringing all oxygen to freshen me up, I was enjoying every bit of ride. I stopped at a place where once my sister, Ed and I had clicked an instant photo. There were women waiting for their bus for Dharan and they were giggling at me when I was trying to take their picture.

I continued flowing downward till I reached the place where we had played cricket with local kids during our last visit. I didn't see any kids around but there were surely pigs and cows watching me move on the highway. Local women were carrying bulk of grasses for their cattle.

Listening to music and admiring the beauty all around, in no time, I reached Tamor Bridge. Locals were selling sugarcane sticks and oranges. Tamor river was flowing on its own pace, the water appeared green from above. I had never been on bike beyond this place, though I had been far till Terathum(some 150 kms away) on car. I really couldn't enjoy travelling on car and had promised myself that I would certainly make it to these places on bike someday.

After spending some fifteen minutes here, I continued the journey up towards the hill. I could see school children walking, smiling back at me, kids joking, having fun and big boys observing my bike. From a distance, the Tamor bridge was looking amazingly beautiful. At places, I could see big stones placed on the road, which might have been there when routes were obstructed during protests. The traffic was gradually getting high, but I really loved riding in hills. Drivers seem quite disciplined in hills rather than in plains.

I was all free. I was not thinking of anyone, I was not missing anyone, I was not worried, I was not thinking of past, I was not thinking for future, no rush, no where to reach, no where to stop, no complains, no anger, no fear, no sadness, nothing fake, no regret, no pain, all real, full of life, inspiration, I was living a life, completely my life. My inner self was no longer isolated; I could feel the happiness from within. And, I said, thank you to myself, for such a wonderful birthday gift. The feeling is inexpressible.

1012 Hrs: Dhankuta greeted me well. I roamed around Dhankuta bazaar for a while. It was almost the lunch time, but thought to continue my journey and have my lunch at Hile. The route between Dhankuta and Hile is quite scenic; you can see Hile Bazaar on one side and Dhankuta on the other side. Also, the Half-pipe shaped speed breakers are quite unique in this part of the route.

1045 Hrs: Hile was as usual, shining with its natural charm. I stopped at Hotel Gajurmukhi, ordered a birthday lunch and recharged my electronic stuffs. I visited a local monastery and roamed around.

I thought to continue my travel up to Basantapur, but later heard that the route was quite disturbed. I also hadn't carried any heavy woolen stuff, so gave up the idea. The weather was quite unfavorable too, with no sun shining through. But, I really wanted to ride up to Basantapur and then towards Chainpur of Sankhuwasabha. I still have glimpses from my childhood days at Basantapur where I could enjoy the superb view of mountains that appeared like a painting on blue sky.

I went up towards the hill to get a view of Hile Bazaar. I noticed a cute child with red cheeks, sitting silently near the roadside; he looked like a doll from the distance. He was so happy when I took his pictures. So, that was all I could do in Hile.

Speedometer: 130 Kilometres away from home!

I thought to return back and raced down the hill. The return journey was even more fun. I stopped at places to click pictures. By then, the traffic was quite high, there were buses super packed, even the roofs were tightly occupied.

The day was getting clearer making hills more visible from distance. Trees were sky high at places and red flowers were adding to the beauty. I don’t have words to express the fun I had through the route. It was an eternal series of scenic hills and happiness. I reached Tamor bridge at around 1200 Hrs, the sun was just above my head and it was quite hot out there. But, after a few kilometres away from the river, the sun was not that strong.

On my way back to Biratnagar, I was nearly hit by a truck, and to celebrate the escape, I ordered a cup of tea at Duhabi. There were some birthday wishes on my facebook page and I was so happy to read them. I hadn’t entered the correct birth date of my facebook page, so most of my facebook friends were unaware of my birthday.

By 1600 Hrs, I was back in Biratnagar. It was then, the time to meet my grandma.

The Krishna Temple in Biratnagar is the place where I can feel my grandma. My grandma was a devotee of Krishna and she was attached to this temple. After her demise, this is the only place where I get to experience her aura. Whenever I feel sad, happy or need to pray, I come here. Here, I don’t worship Krishna or any God, I just share my feelings with my grandma, ask her to solve my problems and feel blessed. I feel my grandma’s presence and it’s quite a miracle that whenever I have prayed here, my prayers have always been answered.

So that was my way of celebrating my birthday, and it was quite a fun.

I was invited for a dinner by Chetna di and Neetu di. Well, they must have planned for a surprise birthday dinner without letting me know that they had ordered this secret birthday cake for me. As soon as I reached the place, the waiter unknowingly spoilt their plan with an innocent question “Should I bring the cake now?”. Hilariously, this surprised Chetna di more than me. The dinner was quite a fun. Loads of thanks to Chetna di and Neetu di who made my evening. The cake was really beautiful. The bike ride after the dinner was quite a thrill; we were racing high at 20 km/hr, probably the highest speed for Neetu di. lol

Well, the last piece of happiness still remained. I received an email from my other sister all the way from Southern Hemisphere making me feel special.

I gave a final look at the speedometer, it read 260 Kilometers of happiness.

Back at my room, I lied down on the bed, summarizing everything that I did throughout the day. No questions popped out, my inner self was no longer away from me, I silently smiled.

A CHOSEN MOTHER

I am wondering as to how to start writing something that can only be experienced but can’t be expressed in words. Yet, here I try to jot down few words that ‘at least’ might judge the echoes of my feelings – my inner thoughts.

This is a story. A story about a dreamer and his dream, his ways and the ‘not-so extraordinary’ life he has been living. It’s a special story, for; it’s a true story – my story.

How would you define someone who wants to achieve something that is far beyond his limits, or something that can’t be obtained through mere attempts? May be over-ambitious or a stupid dreamer who should have formulated an aim that has been accustomed to traditions of good-known goals for centuries. He might be a stupid for he thinks he would succeed and he is so unknown that new ideas are hardly accepted by conservatives mind all around.

…………...........................................................

Curtain fades out. He is happy today. It’s the first day to school. A new world begins that would probably never end. He is surprised to see one of his fellow classmates, crying out loud, for his freedom’s been taken away, demanding his parents not to leave him alone in an unknown place - school. What could Parents do, they want their son to be a doctor, look after them when they would get old and for that – they would have to sacrifice many things - his freedom being one of those. So, the boy continues crying, yelling hard, asking his parents to come back and take him away from this scary place. But, no one hears him. His sound touches no any strings. Well, life begins, after an hour, this boy looks glad to meet new friends.

He doesn’t know a big change that has just phased into his life. He would now no longer be a child with innocence, coz, it’s the time to learn all sorts of lessons and games which would lead to exams formulated with rules, regulation and strict commands with exception to few cheats and tricks. Fear of teachers, the dangerous outcome if homework would be ignored, and lessons to be swallowed in and pour downed into demon faced teachers’ ears and exam papers…our boy is no longer free from burdens.

World slowly changes and demands him to face new challenges, new exams and yes, a new game – competition. The Principal inspires our boy and kicks him into a pool of water which he names ‘life’ without lifeguards or a boat. He needs to be on top, not more or less than first in the class. Now there remains only one option, he remains all alone in the middle of a pool and he has to swim and reach that unknown landmark set by parents and teachers who stare at you like whales, octopus and water snakes, and within a given time frame. You can’t escape; they won’t allow you to drown. So, my boy, all you can do now is, stop panting and swim through. They won’t teach you how to swim though, all they want from you; reach that unknown landmark on that given time frame. If you are able to reach, you will be considered successful and will again be thrown into a bigger pool finally leading to an ocean where swimming never stops. If not, you have failed. And, then you would have to face the scariest scene on earth, frightening eyes of whale, terrifying punishment by octopus and poisonous ignorance by water snakes. Failure is no longer considered a malfunction of their (parents & teachers) behavior but as your focus distracted out of the track – they had demanded you to walk through, you missed it out, and you are responsible, ‘only you’, no one else.

Our boy is quite lucky. He didn’t have to face humiliation amidst his friends like many of his classmates do when they score ‘below level’ marks. He is lucky for he has managed to reach the landmark that his teachers defined as ‘landmark – 1st Position’ – ‘Excellent’ – they attributed. He is surprised. What has he really done such that everyone is congratulating him and treating him so well? All he did was that he spilled out everything he had swallowed in the class, wrote everything same what teachers wrote, comma, full stop…everything same, and he got this excellent marks. He gave a thought and learnt, oh! This is how he needs to swim.

He doesn’t learn but records what he is taught. Those words that teacher writes are to be recorded exactly- no addition, subtraction or multiplication of thoughts. A comma in a notebook if commanded by a teacher, would always remain a comma, if misplaced would manifest into a negative mark. It doesn’t matter even if you are not aware of its meaning; all you have to do is record and burn it on the exam paper. If you are able to do so, you are there my child ‘Excellent’, if not, you are a dumb illiterate.

Well, that is how our boy started living his school days.

(well, there is much more to the story..has just unfolded, stories like these never end on single sitting : ) ..sorry if I made you bored, you are too late now... : ) )
To be continued_ _ _ _ _

Cool evening ride....

Had been a long boring day....did everything that I could do, being at Home. Defeated Paraguay and Norway in FIFA World Cup Football matches, of course in a PC game, raced high enough to get myself to the no.1 spot in NEED FOR SPEED game and yup! defeated every teams in CRICKET 2000. Listened to some 2o songs since I woke up and defragmented my hard drive too...but that didn't help in anyway to fill in for this long boring day. Thought to watch India vs Bangladesh World Cup match, but I soon found myself lost in dream. At least, dreams were so nice till I woke up to find that Indians were much ahead in runs.

I looked at my bike and I felt like it too was getting rusty being stranded in that position for more than 14 hours. Got a feeling that it was asking me for a small break, so what then, we thought to have a small ride, yup, me n my bike...

Four directions to chose for this small ride, and I headed towards South towards the Indian border. I might have been through this route for hundreds of time...but today I felt so different. I was speeding on the lowest speed of 25-30 km/hour (might be the lowest speed that I ever been on bike) watching everything around me, enjoying every bits and bytes of highway life, observing some known and some unknown faces.

It was almost evening, with sun just about to set on my west, the sky was looking damn beautiful with red and yellow colors spread far like a professional painter's creation. People were cycling hard to get back to their places from work, fearless children playing with their fellow siblings madly on roads, trucks and buses speeding high to reach their destination; every thing was moving, everyone were in rush.

Except me. Unlike my usual biking experience, I din't feel bad when others overtook me, din't screwed the throttle to race through the highway overtaking every vehicles on road, din't need to blow the horn even for a single time, I was riding so slowly that even cycles were ahead of me. But I was not worried, I was enjoying this moment, tapping my feet on beats of newly released Vishal Dadlani's song rocking hard on my earphone.

I went passed through a recently closed government office, where once I used to be at my father's shop gazing at the people walking through the highway. I din't have my bike then, nor was I free from school. The scenario is completely different from what it looked like then, but anyway, I enjoyed the glimpse of remembrance that just passed through my head.

I laughed at the place where once I had an accident and fell injured on road (was just a minor injury, but it was so hillarious). Continued my ride to experience the wonderful evening aura...till I reached the Indian Boarder.

Took a U-turn towards Biratnagar through the by-pass road. Here, there were more cycles and ricksaws than buses; and people were rushing hard to reach their destination. Few were playing carom, some having a cup of evening tea, and many were busy buying stuffs on a local market.... But there was a thing common in everything, everything was looking so great today, I was enjoying the moment...and I was no longer bored.

I looked at my bike, even it was shining happily, just that lowering petrol level was a thing to ignore, else it was running pretty smooth.

I visited my sister's house where I enjoyed my cup of evening tea chatting with dear pa about political stuffs and updates about Vietnam. Had a nice time and felt so good talking to mom about recent developments.

I then resumed the song and it soon restarted motivating me with its awesome beats...and I soon found myself back in Biratnagar. I headed straight towards my office where I felt so glad seeing a Bangladeshi cricket player hitting hard at the Indian team...and the story begins....

Rainy season..oh! Rainy season.

By Gopal Trital

13 Feb 2011

Rainy season..oh! Rainy season..

Where have u been since long

I have thousands of stories

Till last you waved me a bye

Rainy season..oh! Rainy season

I stumbled, crawled to live again

Stones you walled on my way

'm high flying deep into the sky

A little known smile back again

Rainy season...oh! Rainy season

Flooded away you left me drowned

No songs to inscribe on my tomb

Can you see, I am running hard still

So sorry I failed the destiny down

Rainy season...oh! Rainy season

Rainy season...oh! Rainy season

Are you back again, to hurt me now

More you slice me hit me hard

The more I gonna be strong

The more I gonna be strong