5 whole years. It sure has been a long time or has it really?
I try remembering the day, though bit fuzzy, as I traveled thousands of miles to a new world.
"Boy, am I lost?”
In my late teen, fresh from the high school. As soon as I disembarked, cold evening air from the Gulf of Mexico kissed me and I could feel a chill up my spine. Yet I had the heat within me; ember under ash.
I had heard great myths and legends about this great place. I was equally excited and awed, if not more, as Lucy was in Narnia. Those streets, trees, bushes, birds, animals, cars and vehicles, everything were so different. Not that they were not similar to what I was used to but they didn't give me the same feeling. There were people yet I felt so lonely as if I were in a morgue with dead and motionless bodies staring at me. That was the worst part. I hated those stares. Most of them were blank ones. Other few were cold ones. Man, did I hate them? I swear I would have sent them 6 feet under only if I could. At this moment I wish I had my father next to me. He would have made even the most difficult situation seem so easy. Once past my puberty, I never had to fear from my father. He was more of a friend to me. He simply understood me. Maybe I could understand our economic situation and helped a lot in the bonding. He would advise me as well stood by my side all the time. Any situation of loneliness and embarrassment, he was the first person I could count on. I still remember the first time he helped me cross the street across from zoo. Those strong and sturdy pair of hands had me almost hanging in mid-air. However, on the other side of the street I was so proud of my accomplishment. "Papa, I did it.", I had exclaimed. Today I am more proud because my father had helped me get there. I needed him more in this new world than ever. I would have given anything to have him by my side.
Life in a dorm is not an easy one. Especially if you have never been away from home for so long. I could still feel the warmth of my mother's hand stroking over my head. Her garment giving out the smell of the vegetables. They are just divine. Those special achhars with meals and glass of milk at bedtime. Can you find them even in heaven? Yet I ended up in a cold and damp room with two beds. My entire first semester I never saw sun from my room. And to make it worse, the roommate was a very social guy with lots of female friends.
Slowly things had got started. My first job ever was at the campus cafeteria. It was then I realized the meaning of hard earned money. No film, no teleserials, and no book can explain the true feeling of hard earned money. "This is my money. I earned it." It feels so good within to say those words aloud. I remember shouting with pure joy with my supervisor when she handed me my first paycheck.
There were hardly any Nepalese and few who were there were in higher education. I had the hardest time making friends. I myself was an introvert. I don't know what was wrong with me back then. On top of that after years of education in all boys school I used to have nervous break down whenever I had to confront a girl. Once during those early days, a skimpy girl in a tight tank top had come to me and asked me something. Her Gucci had semi-paralyzed me when she was about 10 feet away fro me. By the time she had reached me her belly-button, slender legs, and cat walk had me spellbound. To save my embarrassment, thanks to Lord, she saw a friend and got distracted before I could utter a word. With time I had few friends. The best thing was to go on a road trip with them during weekends and learning to play football. It was then I learned that 'To be a MAN, one has to be able to drink as much beer as one can bang women. More the Better.' This was the golden rule. Was this all there was? I remembered those days with my friends in the alleys of Kathmandu and Lalitpur roaming with free mind. I missed those panipuris, momos, and local bhattis. Those nights on load shadding walking out in the open street fearless. Sometimes, even now, I feel like reaching out and grab those moments. I wish I could.
Here I was, in the land of opportunity. Is this really what I had dreamed of? I long for those days gone by. I only wish I had a magical wardrobe so that I could stop the time in Nepal right when I left it. Just simply go back and find nobody missing me. Are those trees still there? Do those alleys still have the pungent smell? Are those mountains surrounding the valley still blue and green? Does water still flow in Bagmati? Are those pool bars still open? Is my Nepal still there waiting for me?
My Nepal, My pride!

Crude, you reminded me so much of Nepal now. Good piece of writing.

Crude,
Well written. I have got notion that both of us are in search of answers.
Frozen memories are all i have in my store now.

Keep rolling...

That is such a nice story. I came here as immigrant but its as tough for immigrants as for students. As a student, you work for yuorself, and have to study at the same time. For me, and most other kids of my age (i had just turned 16 a month ago at the time i landed here), it was unbearable to see parents go through such setbacks. The accomplishments back home were worthless. It pains to realize that your parents actually started all over again. And oh god do i miss those load shedding days. My fav thing to do was to either "explore" puberty, (wink wink) or to put on my 4000 rupees ko khasa made walkman(speak of bein ripped of eh? But i even miss those thug sahus man) and listen to the romance show on kathmandu FM or just some of those casettes you illegally dubbed in the local store. Or just goto Maitidevi chowk and check out the hot maiyas buying vegetables in the dark. Boy were those maiyas dumb! Kirai kira ani fohor bhaako tarkaari parthyo hola! Aafu ta Galaxian hai, homework le marthyo. But I even miss those homeworks, I dreaded Nepali homeworks but now I realize how important it is to know Nepali. I nearly failed SLC because of very low mark in Nepali hehehe.
Like any other kid I loved cricket. I used to live, breathe, eat, drink, walk, talk cricket. Yahan no cricket. I was so excited to hear Nepal's win in the plate championships that I was yelling it out to my friends at university even though they didnt know what cricket was. What a moment of truth.
Life here is weird. You don;t know your neighbours, you try to talk to them, they turn out to be weirdos. My neighbour, the mum and son, both smoke ganja together no matter how cold it is outside! Parents goto work, cook, and sleep. They watch some hindi channels but that doesnt fill me. We even eat Nepali food. But that still doesn;t do it. I love the sexy asses walkin around but then sometimes I come across pictures of some Nepali girl on the internet dressed in sari or a kurta or chaubandi cholo, whatever, I have the utmost guilt. It's the sweetest thing in the world.
The West is enamoured with Sex, lies, prejudice and ultramodernism. Nepal may smell, look and feel filthy in the cities, but deep inside, its so pure.