Skip to main content

the ironies of life



Move on! Really, how? How do you move on? Living a life the way I have been doing it for the past three decades. Are you kidding me? It’s not possible! I am so used to the comforts, the love, things and the things. Is it all about things? Deep down I know it is possible, anything is possible, that’s what people say. And that’s what I said – wrapped in my thoughts.

In a nutshell the quake hit us hard. Thousands dead. One of my relatives lost his 16 year old son buried under the rubbles of Dharara right in front of his eyes. Hundreds of children were orphaned and many children face the risk of being trafficked. Villages were wiped out leaving no signs of life ever existing. And monsoon is right around the corner. I know the fate of many people who have lost their homes will endure greater hardships in the coming months. When people don’t have a roof over their head – they hit rock bottom!

I am not writing to complain about the hypocrisy of our donors or our government. We as Nepalese simply know we have to be strong and build our houses and our nation on our own strength. I also know every individual who are lost due to the quake are looking for that strength. I am amongst the many still searching although I still have a roof over my head. I am lucky. 

And then while I am writing this in my office I am constantly checking the water bottle to see if it’s still or shaking. The fear of unknown and the uncertainty of aftershocks has crippled our lives. People are constantly tweeting the strength of the aftershocks - 4.8, 5.4, 4.4 – the numbers pop in my screen and then I worry if it’s not there. All of us are terrified. One strong shock and most of us will start sleeping outside in our gardens. It has taken some good amount of consoling to get back and sleep inside the house. 

Recently, I attended a group counselling session. I felt it was about time I share. No I am not sick and I am not under any medication. I just needed someone to listen to me without judging me. I heard someone in the group mention, there are people with worst problems who have lost everything and the counsellors should prioritize their clients based on the severity of their problems. But who said I was there because I lost my things. The fact is I haven’t lost a thing that didn’t belong to me. What I lost is profound. 

On a lighter note, I had recently changed the curtains in my room. It took me 7 long years to finally shell out some good amount of money to change my blue curtains. It was a pain. Now my room is deserted, it is collecting dust, the new curtains still hang loose. I am sleeping downstairs which now has my old blue curtains. The ironies of life I say, albeit small, never fails to make a difference. 


The irony is we all know our lives are temporary. The problem exists when we start to live it permanently. We knew we couldn’t fight the Mother Nature, we knew the big quake was coming and despite all the information and sensitization none of us were prepared. But are we prepared now? I doubt. 

Despite everything that has happened I can’t help but wish my life was just the way it was, where I moved around carelessly, when I cared about nothing, when I felt secured, when everything and everyone felt certain. I know we will spring back to the way we lived our lives. But for many it will never be the same.    

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A letter to my future teenage daughter

My dear daughter, you are only seven today but you will soon be seventeen. And when you become 17 I know the world will no longer be the same for you and I. We will be together in the same house but we will be distant apart in our heart and head. I was once 17 you know. And like everything else nothing is constant so before you grow up too fast I am writing a letter to you and the million other 17 year olds just like you. Love life - you are going to fall in love - hard. So hard that you are often dizzy with love. A love that is insignificant but withholds you from achieving all your dreams. Dreams that you dreamt when you were barely ten. Dreams that your parents dreamt for you when they first held you in their warm loving arms. Dreams that your mother dreamt for you when you were just a tadpole in her growing tummy. You are 17 and you have just graduated high school. At the verge of becoming an adult. You think you are big enough to make decisions and that you know the best f...
14 comments
Read more

Dreams pursued

My precious Photo: Shradha Giri Last night my nine-year-old and I held hands and cried. We then laughed and then cried again. This isn’t something we normally do – our daughter, our precious one who was quiet for a change sat still, listened to what I had to say. The thing is, I have decided to change my career at this age and it is creating a ruckus which I didn’t think of earlier. I guess no one thinks through until the day one starts working on the decision. I decided a year and a half ago that I would invest in a school. Both my husband and I danced at the idea one idle weekend. We didn’t think of the distance - 500km. A year and a half spent running to banks, local ward office and to tax departments, the deal was done. Just like that with considerable amount of loan on my shoulders, I became a part of the system where I have always wanted to make a difference. I spent the past two weeks in my new role and I was baffled by what I observed (I also spent a few nights c...
8 comments
Read more

Oh boy! women bleed

Menstruation is a taboo. No one talks about it. Women do not openly purchase sanitary napkins. We pretend we don’t menstruate. We refrain from talking about our period at homes and at work places. I have always tried to reason with the stigma vis-à-vis the biological fact a female body goes through. Like how men have beards when they hit pubescent - girls bleed. What’s the big deal I repeat? Often, families and friends laud the teenage boys for sprouting one line moustache or a goatee. The boys are identified for being macho and finally a man. On the contrary, families hide their girls when they start their first period, ashamed when their bodies provide proof that the girl is perfectly healthy and normal. These young girls go on to believe that their bodies have betrayed them. They coax their bodies because suddenly it has made them impure. They can no longer mingle with the other sex openly; they must be mindful and often face exclusion from family functions. They are forced to a...
9 comments
Read more