[Show all top banners]

lootekukur
Replies to this thread:

More by lootekukur
What people are reading
Subscribers
:: Subscribe
Back to: Stories / Essays / Literature Refresh page to view new replies
 THE REUNION: A Tale of Friendship, Love, Ambition, Betrayal and Marriage

[Please view other pages to see the rest of the postings. Total posts: 32]
PAGE:   1 2 NEXT PAGE
[VIEWED 29284 TIMES]
SAVE! for ease of future access.
The postings in this thread span 2 pages, View Last 20 replies.
Posted on 03-18-08 2:24 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Disclaimer: This is not a fictitious story by any means so any resemblance to any person living or dead is not coincidental but purely intentional. I believe in freedom of choice so reader discretion is not mandatory, however, it is strictly advised. The story happens to portray certain stereotypes and prejudices prevalent in our society and it doesn’t seek to vindicate them but feel free to call me names if you feel otherwise. Some of you readers may find parts of the content and language spoken by the characters (which BTW is my lousy attempt to give a realistic feel to the characters and/or events) explicit, R-rated, or you-name-it and hence discomforting or offensive to your taste in which case you are most welcome to bash me or sue me (if you can that is)


The Reunion: A Tale of Friendship, Love, Ambition, Betrayal and Marriage


Part 1- The American Dream

Ridiculously scary!” Biplav grumbled, concluding his remarks on arranged marriage as he took a sip of Pina Colada--his favorite cocktail—from his goblet in a moderately upscale bar in the Bleecker street of New York City’s Manhattan borough.

“The idea of spending life with the person whom you hardly met and interacted with for few weeks is a perfect recipe for disaster. That’s plain gambling!” He had said earlier in response to Suraj’s inquiry. Suraj, his confidante--who was seated beside him--had asked him if he was going to get married when Biplav mentioned about his plans to visit his family in Nepal in a few months time. Knowing he was single, his age which was ripe enough for marriage, his career which was stable and peaking and his mom who was more excited than obliged to marry off the youngest child, Suraj was almost certain that Biplav was on the verge of tying the nuptial knot notwithstanding his disdain for the concept behind arranged marriage.

“I would rather choose to go broke in Vegas. Not that I haven’t.” Biplav had burst into a thunderous laughter before continuing: “Well, not everyday is Sunday now, is it? I might win one of these lucrative days to make up for the loss. But risk my whole life with the one way ticket to the disastrous destiny of arranged marriage? Hell no dude! Even the thought of it is scary!”

“I agree Bips!” Ricky nodded from the opposite side of the table giving a firm approval to Biplav’s view as he held his knife in his right hand and cut a piece of steak in his plate with some struggle. He held his fork in his left hand, stomped it into the piece and continued while chewing and savoring the juicy piece:“Fu*kin aasom!” He relished his order. “It’s a tough call, ain’t it? Say YES and open your fu*kin door for a fu*kin stranger and live with the fu*ker for your entire fu**in life? Must be hard for chicks, but it’s harder for us men. For fu*k’s sake, tell me something which is more safe and exciting, fu*kers!” He tried hard to emulate the local dialect.

“Oye! Sexist! Ali badi bhayo” Abin, the fourth guy in the group, raised his eyebrows partly in amusement and partly in embarrassment at Ricky’s verbal diarrhoea. He was seated beside Ricky.

It was a rejuvenating re-union of four friends, who were lost in the hustle and bustle of busy, hectic life that America offers. Suraj had flown the very evening from Kansas City to join his once very near and dear high school batch-mates. Ricky had driven the day before from Fairfax, Virginia, his hometown and Abin had flown cross-country from San Jose, California a couple of days back. They were staying at Biplav’s home in New York City.

The plan was laid out by Biplav--the tall and lanky class monitor and the then captain of their high school basketball team. He had initiated the plan a month ago by sending out a group email for invitation to all his batch-mates residing in the US and Canada. He got nine responses, three of which were negative for various reasons and from the remaining six senders who responded positively; two had backed out about a week before the meeting citing urgency in their work. The four who were meeting that evening were best of the buddies during their good old high school days. Ever since they graduated from high school, they had been living in separate cities and countries away from each other. After coming to the US, they would often talk over the phone, sometimes do conference call and put the third or at times fourth as well on the line and reminisce good old time they had once spent together. When tied down by work and other personal stuffs; they wouldn’t call for weeks or sometimes even months! It was weird but that is how life of most immigrant workers in the US is like. Life takes few leaps forward towards progression and blows sideways towards uncertainty. You are viewed as a microscopic specimen that is constantly monitored and analyzed. Any adverse mutation is not tolerated. Either perform or perish. Prove your ability for what it’s worth and maintain your efficiency without letting it to plummet or saturate over time. Sometimes 24 hours goes by in a blink only to leave you begging for more. You tend to confine yourself within the 270 degrees between eight and five of your daily clock. The remaining 90 degrees, you assign to your personal space and privacy--something which becomes grossly important, the more you stay in the monotony. Life moves on and you suddenly realize that years have got behind you. You tend to become apathetic to your own people you remained out of touch with for several years.

The story of these four friends was not an exception. They were living in the similar monotony until one fine day, they happened to take a nostalgic ride while recalling the fine days they had once spent together being carefree and most of the time, careless. The ride got overwhelmingly emotional which made them mawkishly maudlin. And hence the decision was made.

“Enough is enough, let’s all meet…soon!” They unanimously decided over the phone.

They were all excited about the reunion and for every good reason. Barring few occasions when two of the four had met at a place or one had come to visit the other for a day or two, all four hadn’t met together in the US until the sun of the glorifying old days had finally chosen to shine for them for the first time in an alley of New York City that evening. The excitement was only growing with time.

“But Bips, even in arranged marriage, you have the liberty of knowing the person close enough before you make the big final decision. It’s in your hand. You can rest the case and back out if you feel it’s hard to live life with those pair of titties.” Abin gleefully rebutted Biplav’s view. He put a wide grin on his face while holding his glass that was filled with White Zinfandel. He looked at his glass amorously and said “Doesn’t take long to see if there’s a match” and smiled charmingly. “It took me only a month to make up my mind for Aakriti and I can confidently say I couldn’t have made a better decision in my life. If I had met her 10 years back or 50 years later, I would have still chosen her” He chuckled.

Abin was the only married guy in the group. He was married to Aakriti for fifteen months but his honeymoon phase was far from over. It was an arranged marriage and he had known her for two months prior to that. Although Aakriti couldn’t make it to the New York City, she was everywhere for Abin: from his wallet to cell phone, ipod to key ring. In his heart. In his mind. In his soul.

“You’re fu*ked up myan, your life is doomed if you hafta spend the darn life with jus one fu*kin person. Must be fu*kin boring as hell. Know what I’m saying, mothafu*kers?” Ricky grunted adding his follow up comment on marriage and followed it by his signature hysterical laughter. Dressed in an inflated-balloon-like jeans that seemed like almost about to leave his waist anytime, a long flabby black t-shirt that had his favorite word ‘Fabolous’ printed on its front and a bling-bling around his neck, Ricky was dressed for the occasion--dressed to impress some local lass.

“O kale, chup! Mukhma pachkaidinchu ahile ani” Abin gulped the last few ounces of the drink from his glass, banged the glass on the table and rolled his wrist, faking anger at Ricky.

“Fu*k you Abina! Zin piyera furti herna yesko, sissy!” Ricky slammed his beer bottle upon the table staring at Abin. He then burst into laughter. Biplav and Suraj started laughing as well. Their laughter resonated producing a bigger laughter that drew attention of few patrons around them for a while.

“I have quit drinking beer” Abin murmured and grabbed a tissue and wiped his mouth in a flash.

“So have I” Biplav sighed as he leant against the back of his chair and started playing drum on his tummy with his both hands.

---------------

Part 2- Australia: An Ambitious Journey

Biplav hadn’t changed much looks-wise, barring few pounds of flesh that he had managed to put on over the last few years. Fairly tall with wheatish skin complexion, he had high cheek bones, long nose and big brown eyes. He looked more attractive than he was in his high-school days. Biplav was a computer science graduate from a university in Queensland, Australia and working as a Software Engineer in a Wealth Management Firm in Manhattan, New York. He had moved to the US two years ago after having bagged the lifetime opportunity to work with the New York based company that offered him a handsome salary and sponsorship for his H1 with a promise to file for his Green Card by the end of his first year on board. He used to work as an IT consultant in a Law Firm in Sydney before moving to what is popularly known as “the land of opportunity”. From career perspective, it was a no-brainer for him to decide on quitting his mediocre former job to take this alluring offer from Uncle Sam. What was difficult though was to leave his girl friend Rachita, who he had known for more than a year in Australia.

---------------

“It takes time to know a person closely and when you do, you may have other opinion about that person. Your new derivations might not be coherent with the first few impressions you had about that person” Biplav articulated his views.

“So you think I am a different person from what you had thought I was?” Abin winked at Biplav as he took out a pack of Parliament from his pocket.

“O baadar! You are not allowed to smoke here. Can’t do that in public places! Aakriti sanga kura garaidiu?” Ricky put his hand over Abin’s that held the pack.

“I am talking about girls in particular since the context of our talk is marriage.” Biplav continued. “Don’t want to sound sexist but I somehow find girls shallow and fickle-minded. Half of them don’t even have perspectives. I have never understood them and now I would not want to either. I guess I have found my niche and I am happy being single” He sighed holding his goblet on his hand and kept staring at it.

---------------

Rachita was a first year student of Criminal Justice at a Law school in Sydney when Biplav had first met with her. He had bumped into her for the first time in Dashain Party organized by the Nepalese association of Sydney. This was when he had just moved to Sydney from Queensland to start his first job right after his graduation. She was fresh off the boat having moved to Sydney from Nepal a couple of months ago to pursue her studies. Rachita was undeniably the prettiest of the girls in the party for Biplav--her smile being the highlight of her features. When he caught her first sight, he got a vibe he had never gotten from any other girls he had met until then. He could literally kill to see a glimpse of anyone smile like she did.

“Hi! I thought you were quite attractive until you smiled.” Biplav had initiated the conversation with a charming smile on his face.

“Huh? Do I know you?” Rachita was caught by surprise.

“Not until this moment. I am Biplav” He had extended his hand towards her.

“Rachita” He had shaken hers with his.

“Nice to meet you”

“Nice to meet you too”

Being new to the place, both Rachita and Biplav didn’t have a whole lot of friends in Sydney to hang out with, let alone close ones to rely on in thick and thin. They had clicked in no time and their chemistry was perfect, or so they had thought. Amid loneliness, they could only find each other’s presence more compelling than anything else. It gave them reason to believe in each other.

Humans are gregarious species. Much of our togetherness at a superficial level has to do with our reluctance or inability to be alone. Some people find solitude in loneliness. Solitude feels very different from loneliness. Loneliness is the pain of being alone while solitude is the glory of being alone. There is gentleness and a quiet sense of contentment about solitude which enables us to get engaged in a wide range of activities like reading, listening to music, musing, playing, writing and a host of other hobbies—if you are content with it that is. But it is hard to get into hobbies and find solace in them first off at a new place. Sydney was a new environment for Biplav and more so for Rachita. Much of their aloneness was attributed to loneliness than solitude and the fear of being lonely has bound them together in a quick time. They would walk in Luna Park in the evenings and spend hours talking about their families, friends, ambitions, hobbies and their outlooks towards life in general. On weekends, they would go to movies or drive down to Bondi beach and walk together along the shore. He would take out his cigarette pack from his pocket but before he could light on the cigarette, she would shout at him—sometimes even threaten to not speak with him anymore, if he did not quit smoking. She abhorred smokers, her own father being one of them and last thing Biplav wanted was to register him in her hate-list. He would calmly put the cigarette back in the pack and into his pocket. It happened several times but he would still keep trying to convince her and make her accept him as he was rather than lying about his habits she didn’t appreciate or entertain.

Biplav was aggressively ambitious while Richita was more spiritual and lackadaisical. All she wanted in her life was mental peace and happiness—happiness that is inexpensive yet priceless. She never craved for big bungalows, fancy cars and big bank balance while Biplav’s dream was as big as owning few islands in the Caribbean. He had his plans laid out for his career and he wanted to see himself on the pedestal of a rich and famous guy one day. Money meant a lot to him. More than to satiate his materialistic needs, he needed financial success to make his people hear loud and clear: “Look, I achieved what I wanted to. I ain’t a loser”

Biplav had spent his childhood in Kathmandu as the youngest child in his family with his elders: mom, maternal grandmom, a brother and a sister. His father died when he was barely seven. His mom--a teacher in a private school in Kathmandu--had to quit her job and take over the business set by her husband when she was in her early thirties. Biplav’s father had opened a trekking and travel agency in Chhetrapati with the help of loan from Nepal Bank Limited two years before his untimely demise. The company was running fairly decently before he died on a fateful day when his motorbike collided head-on with a speeding truck in Pulchowk. His mom was a tough woman. She took the responsibility of the business solely by herself on her shoulders and made sure her kids would not miss their father much. Her widow mom--Biplav’s grandmom--was in her fifties and still young enough to take care of her grandkids when their mom would not be around. First few years were hard for Biplav’s mom as being a widow at a tender age was never easy, especially in Kathmandu of the late eighties. People in their neighborhood would speculate and make myriad stories about her illicit affair with other male workers in the company and in particular with the assistant manager—Arjun. Arjun often used to come and pick Biplav’s mom to work and drop her home after work. Being the thick-skinned person that she was, the baseless rumors and false accusations coming from the prejudiced society would not bother her much although at times she would find herself in the depth of despair for having to live in the society that never understood what it is like being a single working mother of three. She hated being a part of the very society. The hatred grew stronger with time and she deliberately isolated herself and her family from the surroundings. Her prejudice against the prejudiced society cost her some good friends and genuine well-wishers in the neighborhood.

Biplav’s mom badly wanted to protect her kids from the dark shades of the society. “You are going abroad to study once you are done with your high school” She used to tell her kids. Things started to roll in her favor and the business started to turn quite lucrative after a couple of years. Only for few years though. A sudden slack occurred once Maoists insurgency eclipsed the bright tourism sector of Nepal in the late-nineties. The company was burdened under massive debt. To ease the colossal financial pressure, lands were sold and house mortgaged. Biplav had just graduated from his high school and was planning to go abroad for further studies but due to the unexpected financial constraints, he had to almost give up his plan and get enrolled in a local school if it was not for his Grandmom's contribution. Her grandmom had a piece of land in Gadavari that came in handy at the time of crisis. The land was sold at a good price to a civil engineer working for ICIMOD and that helped Biplav live his dream.

Two months later, he landed in the Cairns International Airport in Queensland, Australia with two medium size suit-cases in his hands, tuition cost for the first semester in his pocket, lots of hope and a big dream on his mind. When he got off the plane and took the first breathe of fresh air in the land of Kangaroos, he looked around and said to himself, “One day, I am gonna rule this place”

---------------

Everyone needs a company of somebody in a new place to help them leave their memory of the past aside and move on with the new episode of life. And if you connect well with the very first person you meet in a new place, new environment; chances are, you will end up being really close to that person in a very short span of time. However, as time goes by, you discover more about the place; meet with new faces and the strength of the connection with that very first person gets weaker and more vulnerable.

Everything between Biplav and Rachita happened so fast that they didn’t feel the need of proposing or accepting the proposal. For the first few days, she was in a denial of her attraction towards him although she knew she admired him as a person. Biplav had always liked her since he first saw her in the party and by the end of the first week, he had become really confident about her--so much that he had thought she was going to be his wife. Not to be!

Weeks had gone by. One day they were coming back home from Pitt Street Mall after almost a day-long shopping. Before dropping her off at the main gate of her dormitory, Biplav told her that he needed to go to Melbourne the following week for a two-weeks training on System Administration. She was furious for he didn’t say anything about it all day when they were together; however, she tried to veil her anger with smile. It had suddenly stroke in her mind that she would sorely miss him. Not as much as she actually did, when he was gone.

Those two weeks made her realize that he had become an integral part of her life. Her cell phone wouldn’t ring as much as it used to. She did not have car and there was no one who would take her outside to divert her minds off of him. He had left a vacuum in her surroundings and she was gasping for fresh air. There was no excitement in the air. All of a sudden, Sydney seemed like a prison to her and wary thoughts about her family started to encroach on her mind, continuously. She had never felt as much homesick as she did during those two weeks. She tried to listen to some loud music but it would only worsen her melancholy. In utter despair, she locked herself in her bedroom and thrashed herself on her bed. She covered her mouth with the pillow and cried for a long time. The sound of her crying reverberated across the walls of the room and it felt like all the stuffs in her room were shedding tears as well at her agony.

When Biplav came back from the trip, they became more close to each other.

“I missed you a lot” She had said in his arms.

“Oh really? I did not a bit” He had grinned and she had jabbed her fist gently into his chest. He put his hands over her shoulders and dragged her closer. When he had come closer to her face and tilted his head a bit, she had already shut her eyes and begun to breathe harder. He kept looking at her sensual face for a while, braced himself and very gently touched her delectable lips with his. The temptation grew even stronger with the tactile sensation. He kept playing with them until she started to respond. Both felt and played with each other while the warm soggy air flew through their mouth and they could feel its heat and dampness. Time just stood still.

---------------

“You cannot say you’re not trying to sound sexist when in fact you are Bips.” Suraj gave a stern look at Biplav. “It depends on individuals. It’s not that only girls are shallow by nature. It has more to do with maturity and understanding and the level varies from person to person. And even with mature, understanding people, sh*t happens! Time is the greatest of all actors. It dictates its term on every individual.”

“Yeah time is powerful. It pauses and gives you everything in one single moment and just when you think you are getting stronger, it bends you on your knees” Biplav looked at Suraj and sported an askew grin.

---------------

Time flew by. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. The company Biplav was working in went through a financial crunch which forced them to lay off 20 percent of their employees. Biplav survived the tumult but had to work doubly hard to save his job. He didn’t get much time thereafter to call and talk with Rachita, let alone hang out with her. A week later, more layoffs. When Biplav got desperate to prove his worth, he started putting on few hours on Saturdays and most of Sundays for his work.

Rachita started to get busier as well with her studies. It was her all important first year and she needed to start off well with good grades to get things going for her in the country which was not hers by birth. Assignments, projects, tests, midterms and finals for five different courses kept her on her toes. Moreover, she had to work for 20 hours in the library to buy breads to eat. During the last two weeks of finals, she would stay late in the library to study. There was a Brit, her classmate, who would help her if she had any questions or stuffs to be understood. The two would combine study for hours in the library or in his off-campus apartment about ten minutes walk from the campus.

When the semester was over, she was much relieved. Biplav was still occupied by his work though. During the whole month-long semester break, she could meet with him just three times for dinner and that was that. One evening when Biplav went to jog in Centennial Park, he saw Rachita with the British guy. Their body language was quite suggestive of their intimacy. Biplav wanted to save himself from the disgrace of having them see him. He took off his bandana that he was wearing over his head and slyly covered his face with it while pretending to wipe his sweat off. He changed his route, bypassing their path, and came back home much faster than usual. He realized that he had run faster. Soon after coming home, he went to his balcony and lit a cigarette. He never used to smoke right after jogging. The day was an exception. He then took a cold shower and went to bed without having dinner. He never bothered to ask Rachita about the guy.

Before Rachita and Biplav could sit together, think about their situation and plan for their future, her second semester had already started. It started and ended in a flash and her relationship with Biplav could not still blossom. Biplav always wanted a more stable career so he started applying for jobs in other parts of the world—US being his first preference. Even after being together for months, Biplav and Rachita were not sure of where destiny would lead them to. The fourteen-month-long relationship, which had already gone through intermittent periods of dips, went through the real test when Biplav had to decide on moving to the US leaving Rachita down under.

He chose his shining career over his uncertain destiny of love.

Soon after coming to the US, he used to call Rachita on her phone thrice a week—twice during weekends. The vibe and the interest got reduced with time and distance and so did the frequency of calls. By the end of his fourth month in the US, he had stopped calling her completely. She had sent an online card the following month to wish him on his first birthday in America which he did not care to respond to. Three days later, he sent a short email to her: “It baffles me to realize that we could not be true soul-mates; we were together because we both were alone. I don’t know if I will get another Rachita, and even if I do whether I want to have her in my life, but you surely will get several Biplavs whom you need variably. All the best”

He did not receive its answer. After a month, he deleted the card she had sent and all emails and the folder named ‘Rachi’. He also deleted her contacts from his cell, blocked and later deleted her name from his MSN and AIM buddy list. He also dumped all CDs which had songs that reminded him of Rachita. The pullover which Rachita had given her as a gift in his birthday, he donated to a homeless in Bronx. Anything and everything that reminded him of her went to the dumpster.

---------------

Biplav’s family in Nepal was aggressively in pursuit of a suitable bride for him. His mom had a list of potential candidates ready for him to have a look at. His sister-in-law, wife of his brother, wanted him to initiate talk with her first cousin. His married sister wanted him to touch base with the girl who was a distant relative of her husband. Biplav would turn a cold shoulder to each everytime they asked him about it when he talked to them over the phone. “Hya…mero biheko, hajurrharule chinta linu pardaina” He would tell them and divert the topic to something else. Deep inside his mind, he had decided “Career first. There’s so much to be done.”

---------------

Part 3- Ethics and Ambition

Suraj had brought another round of drinks from the counter. “It’s important to know the person fully before you commit” He said as he placed the order on the table and continued “You need some time but then quality is more important than quantity. It’s imperative that you spend quality time with the person to see if you can connect with each other. Could be days, weeks, months or even years for some”

“Oh you will know it the moment you see her. Her mere presence is enough. It gives some indication. It sends forth some signal and you will be able to decode it right away, if there’s a match.” Abin was all smiles.

”Yeah, I know signals. It could be a sound. Like some music will start playing in the background. Ek ladki ko dekha to aisa laga or something of that sort…right Abina?” Ricky tested Abin’s temparament.

Biplav nodded his head in silent amazement. “Khai..but I seriously think there is more to life than marriage, wife and kids. These are just mere distractions. People tend to become emotional fools for some odd reason. I don’t see the need of anyone in life if you are self-sufficient. You get more satisfaction when you are able get your things done solely by yourself” He said.

“No but we are social animals Bips. Everybody needs someone at some point. It’s just a matter of ‘when’. Life is incomplete without that special someone” Abin said clasping his hands together.

“What are friends for then?” Biplav took some more sips of his drink.

“We are just friends Bips. We understand each other but we have our own priorities and career.” Suraj said “Our lines are different and they don’t cross! It took us six years to get together. Don’t know when we will get another chance to meet again. Of course we will be there for each other in case of urgencies. But we can’t always be there forever. Life’s unpredictable. No one can guarantee where it will take us tomorrow!” He continued in his pensive disposition.

---------------

Suraj was a Biomedical Engineering major, working as a Part-time Engineer in the Support Team for a Medical Institution in Kansas City and also continuing with ambitious projects as a Part-time Graduate Student at a Graduate school of Engineering in Kansas. A good couple of inches shorter and much fairer and chubbier than Biplav, Suraj was mostly reticent and pensive by nature. He wouldn’t talk much but would not shy away from opining either when he thought his inputs had some weight or if they could give new dimensions to the topic under discussion. He was a man of principles and high ambitions but his ambitions would not come in the way of his belief on what is ethically right. He knew he did not have a big appetite for financial success—not at least for a good number of upcoming years in his career. “Don’t worry about money, fame and success. The most important thing in life is to be a good human being; and if you are one, everything else that you crave for will follow” His father used to tell him often and that had meant a lot to the obedient son. The sacrosanct image of his father--who stood by his principles throughout his life and made a decent living for his family literally from scratch and entirely by himself--had rubbed off on him since his early childhood.

Suraj loved challenges in his life and would not ever chicken out from making decisions—however big or difficult they might be—if he knew they could potentially lead him through the path of success and satisfaction. He would not think twice on opting for the most difficult route from the given options if he was sure it would make him successful and different from most of others. When offered an enticing package of promotion to the full time Chief Engineer position of the branch and that too in the very first year of his service, he had happily declined the offer and chosen to remain part time so that he could continue with his graduate study for a PhD. Many of his peers thought it was a blatant stupidity in his part to decline the exciting offer considering he was just a starter. Some thought perhaps he was looking to catch a bigger fish. Nobody understood him better than he himself. Suraj did not want to confine himself within an eight to five job that would repeatedly ask him to do the same stuff over and over again. He felt he had more to contribute to the society being a researcher which would allow him to do things on his own than being just a mere user of some already designed application that had myriad limitations. He wanted to make his own robot than being a manipulative robot of someone.

Few of his batch-mates in school used to think Suraj was too stubborn and too disciplined to be realistic or pragmatic. It is not difficult to live a thoroughly disciplined life to people for whom disciplinary measure is a part of their innate nature. Suraj did not choose to be a man of principles, he was like that. When things, be them skills or thoughts, come to people naturally, they deliver and make them look easy for others who may have hard time understanding the process. Suraj would not do anything that was deemed inappropriate by his rationales. He was clear of what he wanted to achieve in his life and would not leave any stone unturned from his side in getting things done. To those who knew him closely, Suraj epitomized a quintessential figure of class and principle but his taciturnity would often alienate him in social gatherings. Nothing about himself ticked him off more than being socially passive, if not inept.

Suraj was living with his girl friend, Jessica, a Political Science Major, who hailed from Little Rock, Arkansas and who went to the same school in Kansas that he did for his undergrad. Jessica’s father was an active democrat and an ardent fan of Bill Clinton. He had helped the former President with his campaigning in Arkansas in the 1996 presidential election. Being a Minor in Political Science, Suraj had to take few courses in the field. He had taken an introductory course in the second semester of his freshman year and that’s when he first came to know about Jessica. Suraj was smart and open-minded and Jessica was friendly and liberal. She was a bit shy to start with and he was totally diffident in her presence. It took her few meetings to open him up and when he acquiesced himself to her charms, they became good friends. She would often tease him saying, “Nipply (Nepali) man” and he would just smile and blush. Suraj was too self-effacing to respond to her romantic advancements but no matter how meek he might appear, he was endowed with same self-confidence that she had, perhaps even more. For him, however, that confidence was buried deep inside. A given person with high self-esteem may be outwardly self-promoting and ostentatious or may be outwardly very calm and modest. Suraj was one of the latter kinds.

The duo would often discuss comparative government, labor theories of value by Adam Smith or Alfred’s Marshall’s marginal utility and other broad topics for hours. They had agreed to work together for the final project for the class and before the semester was over, they were more than just friends. She always wanted stability and peace of mind in her relationship and Suraj could provide her both. They graduated and attended the convocation ceremony together. He hugged and kissed her in public for the first time after the ceremony. Their friends had taken pictures of it--one of which was framed and hung on the wall of their living room. He started his work immediately after graduation and his graduate school the following year while she settled with the job of an Office Administrator in a Limited Liability Company in Kansas City.

Suraj was skeptical about disclosing his relationship with Jessica to his parents. He was not sure of how they would react after knowing their only son was going to marry a white girl. He wanted to give Jessica enough exposure to Nepalese culture before he could introduce her to his parents. He had taught her about his religion, festivities and the patriarchal model of Nepalese society. Jessica was understanding and a good learner. She had also written a paper in Maoists Insurgency in Nepal for one of her classes and the research had helped her to know more about Nepal and Nepalese culture and the people and their traditions. Within a year, she had learnt how to wear saris, how to greet Nepali people--especially the elders. She also learnt about major festivals and the importance of Dashain, Tihar, Teej, Holi, Lhosar and Janai Purnima. He had taught her most frequently used Nepali words and phrases: “Namaste’, “Hajurlai sanchai chha?” “Basnuns na”, “Ke khane?” and Nepali names for foods and drinks: ‘Bhuja’, ‘Dal’, ‘Tarkari’ ‘Pani’, ‘Chiya’ and the likes. She could pronounce most of them with great ease and some of them with some difficulty in her peculiar southern accent which Suraj found irresistibly cute and at times weirdly funny. She would make flash cards with Nepali words written on one side and their English translations on the other and learn them by heart whenever she got time and interest. Sometimes, Suraj would himself ask her randomly from the deck of cards and she would get a brownie for each correct answer. One brownie was equivalent to a kiss which he would furtively implant on her cheeks. If she got her answer incorrect, he would take the brownie instead from her. Sometimes he would deliberately declare her answers incorrect for imperfect pronunciations and other funny interpretations just to irritate poor Jessica. She would pick a pillow-fight and he would reciprocate by trying to stop her. Soon the fight would turn into physical intimacy and when she would submit herself to him, they would make passionate love with each other. She would then put her head on his chest and both would fall asleep quietly and peacefully.

---------------

(Rest follows in the next post)

Last edited: 21-Mar-08 08:59 AM

 
Posted on 03-18-08 2:26 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Part 4- Sex, Lies and Romance

“Ok peeps! We’re missing something.” Ricky growled and took some quick sips of water from his glass. “Look at them damsels! Wow, what a figure!” He rested his glass on the table as he kept drooling over a busty African American girl who had just entered the bar along with a group of women. He leaned sideway towards Abin and whispered to him. “How much is she worth? A paycheck would do, I suppose?” He giggled as he took a glance or two at the girl’s big curvy rump. Abin followed Ricky’s line of sight while Biplav kept smiling. Suraj gently shook his head sideways and grinned.

“Wow, fu*kin great” Ricky was still at it.

---------------

Ricky was a happy-go-lucky chap working at a mortgage company in Northern Virginia as a Business Analyst. He had done his MBA in finance from a renowned school in Illinois. Born in an affluent upper class family in Kathmandu, his pedigree had roots in Bajhang, a far western district of Nepal. His father was an envoy and her mom a social activist at the local level. He was born under complicated medical circumstances by caesarean section which went wrong and that cost her mother her fertility. Being the only son in the family, his parents were too protective and possessive about their son. When kid, all his demands would get fulfilled without much squabble so his expectations from people in his surroundings went out of bounds. He was raised as some sort of a spoilt brat although his parents wanted to give him a normal childhood. But with busy professional life of parents, the son’s childhood got overlooked. They had local nannies from Bajhang, hired to do the job of upbringing and taking good care of their fondly-called “Sano Raja”

Ricky spent a major chunk of his childhood with his parents in several countries in Asia and some in Europe. He did not get a whole lot of opportunities to look at Nepal from a close-up lens. He had visited Bajhang--his ancestral home--just once, the memory of which had long been erased as he was too young to cache in the place to his tender memory. Before he could resurrect the fading memory, he was taken to Bangkok, Thailand where his father was appointed to his new tenure of his office. Ricky was admitted to a boarding school in Bangkok and would come home only in weekends. During Sogkran and Phi ta Khon—Thai festivals, the family would go on a vacation trip to Sumatra Island in Indonesia or Singapore or Hong Kong.

Bangkok was one of the major hubs in Asia for narcotic drugs business and girls trafficking. When he was in his first year of high school, Ricky befriended few local Thai boys. Warat was the best of his friends. When classes would be over, he would often go to Warat’s place and they would smoke together in his bedroom. Ricky was barely fifteen when he took his first puff on which he had choked so badly that he had promised he wouldn’t smoke ever again. He broke his promise the very next day. Once when he was home for vacation, his mom found packets of Marijuana from the pockets of his jeans and several empty bottles of Phensydil lying underneath his bed. Fearing addiction to drugs, company of spoilt friends in the neighborhood and seclusion from own culture and people, his mom brought him to Nepal soon thereafter, two years before the all important SLC exam and put him in her close custody at their bungalow in Sinamangal. He did not get much chance to go off the hook once his mother took things under control for him. When she would be gone for trips for her social activities across the country, the house-workers would remain in vigilance to make sure he is in track. He was admitted to a boarding school in ninth grade. Thanks to the connection of his mom, the school approved his admission notwithstanding his dismal performance in the entrance exam. Home environment and company of good friends proved beneficial for Ricky. He took his SLC exam after two years and passed it in first division. To his own and more to his parents’ disbelief, he had radically improved in Mathematics that became his most favorite subject. He got enrolled in another school for the Intermediate level and did fairly well in the finals there too. It was a sweet comeback for the once spoilt kid. When he was done with high school, he came to the US for his undergraduate studies in a Liberal Arts School in Pennsylvania.

Ricky had had several relationships in the past none of which celebrated any anniversaries. The more he was aging, to his bewilderment and his friends’ despair, the shorter his relationships would last for. Upon asked about his love life, he would go: “Girls, after a while, become boring and so is my love life. But I like it this way. Why settle with Lena, when you know there are several Teenas around who are yet to be explored and experimented?”

When he was in his freshman year, a Nepali girl named Isha, also in the freshman year in the same school, fell for Ricky under strange circumstances. Ricky was an average looking guy but lively and good spirited with a decent sense of humor that was funny sometimes but campy for the most part. Isha was tall with some curves and quite attractive. They both had come to the US on the same day, in the same flight from London that landed at the JFK international airport in New York. Isha had stayed in London with his paternal cousin’s family for a month before coming to the states for her studies. Throughout the journey, they did not exchange pleasantries, let alone words of acknowledgements for both being from the same country. Their eyes met for few times and although her body language suggested her intent to break the ice while they were waiting to be boarded in London Heathrow Airport, Ricky maintained silence disregarding her presence. He rather kept chewing his gum arrogantly. His eyes caught sight of and got fixated at her bottom a few times while they were in the waiting lounge, but the temptation was not strong enough for him to bring forth any conversations from his part. “Kali, black a*s dhotini” He had thought. She never looked at him again and that’s how the first meeting had ended.

They saw each other for the second time at the welcome party organized by the international office. All newcomers had to give their brief introduction to all other international newcomers and seniors and at the end of it; it became obvious to both Ricky and Isha that they came from the same country. But still, nothing happened between them. He was too full of himself for her and she was not interesting enough for him. It took a month for them to come to terms with each other’s attitude. The first frat party of the year was held and Isha was high having gulped two drinks in a short interval. He was in his second. When she spotted him in a corner of the hall all alone talking on his phone, she got encouraged to break the shackle. She came directly to him and asked him to come outside of the room in the hallway. Perhaps the drinks had boosted her confidence and deflated his dilated ego. They came outside and stood in a corner of the hallway. The cacophonous noise from the party hall could be heard scantily in the background. She kept looking at him with her fiery eyes for a while and asked him why she was being ignored. He countered back asking why she could not initiate instead and what held her back if she was ‘that’ interested. His attitude pissed her off instantly. She did not utter a word. She just grabbed him by his shirt and kissed him strenuously on his lips that lasted for few seconds and left him agape. Ricky was taken by surprise and hence fell short of reacting verbally or physically to the physical onslaught done on him. He saw her going back to the party hall, noticed her sagging buttocks and said to himself “What a filthy b*tch!”

They met again in the next party two weeks later. He had started the conversation in a decent positive manner this time and she had responded gleefully. Both were fresh when they started and the talk went smoothly. She told him about her family and friends. Isha came from a middle-upper-class family in Kathmandu and went to an all-girls school in West Bengal, India for her middle and high school level education. They also had a common friend in Kathmandu and both had gone to his house several times but they never happened to bump into each other before. Isha was addicted to drugs while studying in India. When her parents came to know about it from her friend, she was still at her initial stage of the addiction. They sent her to a rehab in Calcutta and it did wonders for her. She had completely come out of the addiction within a year.

Among many things that they talked about that party night, marijuana was one. He had already known places where good brands of pot were available for taking. She had got excited. They kept talking, got a little drunk, continued talking for hours and got drunk even more. Gradually he had discovered hots for Isha. When the party was over, they came back together walking all the way to their dormitory. In the elevator he asked her if she could come into his room. She thought it was too late but the temptation was growing stronger. She could not turn down his insister. Soon they were in his bedroom. The night was still young and the passion more intense. When they had nothing to talk about, she came closer to him, looked him into his eyes and asked fervently “Do you like what you’re seeing?” He thought for a second, looked at the reflection of her curvy rump and her fleshy thighs in the mirror right behind her and said, “Yes, I do”

He put his arms around her and cuddled her and kissed her gently on her cheeks to begin with. When she responded by snuggling him even more tightly, there was no stopping for both. Soon they went on a rampage. It was hot and steamy. That night, their very first night together, they were both wildness and ruthlessness personified as if they were taking revenge on each other.

When they got up, Ricky saw a message on a small piece of paper hung on his door which read:

“Please make sure you don’t cage Argus and Daisy together in the same crate. Although their initial intermittent moans were pleasant to ears, the incessant growls afterwards were so loud and disturbing that we could not sleep at all last night. Hope it won’t happen again. Thanks”

Ricky’s roommate was fond of pets. He had a dog and a kitten. Argus was Cavalier Spaniel and Daisy was Bombay.

---------------

“Hey Ricky, whatever happened to Stuti?” Abin asked Ricky. Stuti was the seventh or eighth girl Ricky had dated. She was born to a Non-resident Nepali family in the US.

“Oh we’re good. I mean good, now that we’ve broken up” Ricky stated proudly. “She was being a pain in my neck for the last two months or so. I don’t know what makes these girls think that they would be dumped. So insecure. No confidence whatsoever”

Ricky would change his girl with his hairdo that he would change in 3 months time on an average. From short takes to shaggy medium to razor cut he tried all lengths and styles possible. Sometimes he would have long crazy sideburns; sometimes ponytails or mullets. Once he had it all shaven and it took him about 8 months to come to a new style—that’s the longest he was in a relationship with a girl. He probably needed to go bald to stick to the permanent one for good.

“Man, Ke garchas yar ta? Kahile sudhrinchas?” Biplav was perplexed.

“And how do you manage?” Abin added.

Ricky smiled and said “Well, men get turned on by what they see; women get turned on by what they hear. I just make sure that women hear the right thing. I very tenderly explain to them that I guarantee them at least one irresistibly quivering orgasm”

---------------

Next three and half months went fine for Ricky and Isha. She would call him every morning to wish him and they would meet regularly at his place in the evening and make love all night when they had no assignments due or test to take the very next day. It was obvious to Ricky that his attraction for Isha was all physical and no platonic. There was no emotion involved apart from his testosterone which would come oozing out when he held her in his arms. One fine day, something came to his mind and he decided to not pick her regular morning calls. She thought he was busy or sleeping until he did not pick her calls consecutively for the next three days. She started to get weird feelings. She went to meet him at his room the third day. When she asked if everything was alright, he told her right at her face that he could not like her loud snores while sleeping. “It’s irking and disturbing” He said. In response, she told him she too had to put up with his incessant sneezes early in the mornings but still refrained from complaining. “I wouldn’t have come after you if I had known you have a serious sinus problem” She was infuriated. They dumped each other that day. Both were being dishonest to each other in the reasoning though. Ricky needed something to be told and Isha wanted a tit for his tat.

Fact of the matter was: Ricky had realized that he could not find Isha’s butt as attractive as before.

---------------

Part 5- Darwin’s Theory and Hopeless Romanticism

“How is Aakriti, Abin? She could not make it here?” Suraj asked.

“Oh she is busy with her work. She just started on a project. Bicharilai fursat chaina ajkal” Abin stated in a despondent tone.

---------------

As implied by the popular adage: “Love makes the world go round”, the world of Abin was round and romantic. He was a firm believer of the school of thought: “Love happens at first sight”. But there was his own extension to it as well: “If it doesn’t, it never will so go for it, big boy, don’t give up!”

Abin was working as a system-on chip-performance-analysis-Engineer for a company in the bay area of California after completion of his Masters degree in Electrical Engineering from a school in Los Angeles. He was born and raised in a middle-class family in the village of Chapagoan in the southern Patan suburb of Kathmandu valley. The family comprised his parents and their four daughters and two sons-- Abin was the youngest. His family earned its living from agriculture during his early childhood. Being a huge family, Abin’s parents had to endure exorbitant hardships to raise their kids amidst dormant yet expensive living in the eighties of Kathmandu. They had seven ropanis of cultivable land (khet) in Khokana and few workers (khetalas) to help them cultivate various crops--mustard and chilly being the major ones. His father was into oil pressing business but it was not remunerative enough to look after the living of the big family and most importantly education of six kids. Abin went to a local government school and excelled well in all subjects—more so in Science and Mathematics. He was a studious kid and serious about his studies from his early childhood. His parents wanted to send him to a private boarding school but due to financial limitations, they had to think and do otherwise. His father realized that it would be a sin to send Abin to a mediocre government school considering his talent and diligence but he knew he could not afford to send him to a better school.

Luck favored and turned its table towards Abin’s family. Kathmandu began to clutter with people moving in from various parts of the country and soon the price of land in Kathmandu sky-rocketed within few years especially after the 1990 revolution when multiparty democracy was established replacing the age old Panchayat. Abin’s father sold few ropanis of land in a competitive price and bought a local kirana shop in Mangalbazar, Patan. The business stood out pretty well and he became the sole distributor of his Khoakana brand mustard oil. It elevated the living standard of the family altogether in few years time and Abin was sent to a private boarding school in Budhanilkantha. He struggled in English for the first two years as his bases were weak. Even technical words in Science or Mathematics were used to be taught in Nepali in his previous school. The work became doubly difficult as he needed to understand the meaning of the technical words he learnt in English first off. He failed in the first terminal exam in the ninth grade and that made him hopelessly nervous because the SLC exam was round the corner. With his gruesome hard work and dogged determination, he managed to pass SLC in first division. He scored 45 in English but he had excellent scores in Mathematics and Science.

He improved remarkably in his Intermediate level and graduated with good overall percentage and a high distinction in PCM--Physics, Chemistry and Mathematics aggregate. He was a competitive student and he fought well in the entrance exam conducted by the Ministry of Education. He stood third and was well placed for a scholarship to pursue further studies either in Australia or Japan or India. He could not get into the first two but he had shined well enough to snatch the Colombo plan to study Engineering in a reputed school in Mumbai.

“You reap what you sow, son” His father used to tell him and Abin knew that he was reaping fruits of his toilsome hard work he had put into his studies thus far. Embracing the age old Sanskrit Sloka “Gyanam Paramam Dhyeyam” meaning knowledge is the ultimate goal, Abin packed his bags to fly for the very first time away from his country to India.

Abin knew India for Bollywood movies and big stars, Sanjay Dutt being his all-time favorite. He didn’t know much about the actor until his ever-zealous eldest sister once laughed and screamed in sheer excitement after having spotted a sparkling resemblance in the eyes and some facial features between Sanjay Dutt and her own beloved brother. They were all watching the big hit of its time, Saajan in their TV room. According to his sister, both eye-sets were big and dreary that looked like high on drugs. The room was filled with their close relatives and neighbors most of who had agreed with the jumping and clapping sister. That was the biggest compliment Abin had gotten for his otherwise mediocre looks and it had meant a lot to the shy and reserved person as a kid.

“Mera dil bhi kitna paagal hai, yeh pyar to tumse karta hai” He would mumble in his croaked voice whenever he looked himself in front of the mirror and proudly smear his favorite Keo Karpin oil on his hair. He was growing his hair as a tribute to one of the finest actors of Indian cinema and to him his “look-alike”—supposedly. Abin wanted to sing the song for “the girl” of his life---“the girl”, who was seemingly everywhere, yet nowhere. He had many one-sided secret affairs at different stages of his school life and few were known to his dear friends. The girls would come and away they would go without knowing that they had been framed in Abin’s ever picturesque dream-girl-virtual-album. It was the second line of the song that had done Abin “Par saamne jab tum aate ho, kuchh bhi kehne se darta hai”

Abin was timidity and low self-confidence personified.

India came as a nice big change that helped Abin to groom his personality more than academics. The first impression that he got about India was not very pleasing though. He got petrified by busy roads, fast traffic and ragamuffins who looked more like wily thieves than incapacitated beggars strolling on the streets of Mumbai. He had seen skyscrapers only in post cards but he was seeing them for real in front of his eyes in Nariman point—the business hub of Mumbai. From Andheri to Bandra, Worli to Colaba, all he could see were running people and moving vehicles all over the place. Everyone and everything seemed to be in rush. It was distressing. Once, he stopped when he got off the train in Victoria Terminus station and wondered where all those people pushing and jabbing each other were heading to, what the big rush was for. “Is there a fairytale town somewhere in the Arabian Sea where they distribute peace candies?” When he came back to senses, he realized he had his pocket picked by some smarty pants. Thankfully, he hadn’t carried much cash – the suggestion of his mom, based on her own fateful experience, had come in handy. With sheer frustration, he came to the Queen’s Necklace in Marine Drive to find some solace but even it was crowded to add to his already sickening agony.

First day in the college was a harrowing experience for Abin. He had heard of some funny and few horrifying stories of ragging in Indian schools through his friends but he hadn’t heard or thought that they would go berserk on shy guys.

“Oie, Ram Prasad! Eklai aayis? Khai ta chiya? ” His seniors from Nepal greeted him. He was asked to recite all the swear words he knew in Nepali just to see if his vocabulary strength was good enough to give the newbie a place in the group. Abin had been hearing the sacred words since childhood but he wasn’t too comfy speaking them in front of a group of people who were all total strangers to him. He started with the infamous ‘M’ word and murmured all others he knew and heard of. It was not that difficult, he figured. All he needed to remember were two keywords: machine and chicken. The swear words were their derivatives with most of the letters from those two words in them. Abin was asked to speak all the words loudly and clearly and repeatedly. He thought at that rate, he would get habituated to the words and might speak them accidentally whenever he is infuriated with his family, especially with his father. He got so nervous that he slipped his tongue and mispronounced some of them more than once. He blushed when the group laughed at his naivety.

Next, he was asked to pose in “superman” outfit—which meant to take off his underwear and wear it over his jeans. Light was switched off for precisely ten seconds and he had to do the switching before time to save himself from standing naked in front of them. He was made to walk through the hallway in his local Rupa superman costume greeting all the seniors living in the floor of the college hostel. He found all those incidents, in retrospect, extremely hilarious but at that spur of moment he had thought he would leave the school and India the very next day.

“Woh dekh, langoor” Kamini told her friends and they all giggled as Abin walked on the verandah in front of the college cafeteria. Abin did not know what langoor meant. He thought probably something good, but then he knew how he looked like. “It must be anything but good” He said to himself. When he went past her, he realized that he had seen her somewhere before. He went inside the cafeteria, ordered a cup of chai and two samosas. He was eating and wondering who she could be. When he looked around the wall, he saw a poster of Shilpa Shetty, the actress. That reminded him of the flick Baazigar and Kajol, the other actress in the movie. That was it, Kajol! “Kamini looks like Kajol” He told himself in excitement.

Kamini was from Goa, a small state on the west coast of India. She was in her first year at the college like Abin. Her father had a cottage industry in Panaji that produced fenny—the local drink prepared from the cashew apple. She went to a high school in Siolim, a village situated along the Chapora river in North Goa. She had lots of Portuguese friends in Goa. Being a typical Goan, Kamini lived her life in style. Goans lifestyle reflects a unique blend of east and west. They work hard to earn and spend their earnings extravagantly in foods, dresses, festivals and entertainment.

Abin liked Kamini. He had a major crush on her. Both were majoring in Electrical Engineering hence their classes were same. They would see each other every day but nothing happened for Abin. Not that he took any initiatives and failed but bubbly and charming Kamini seemed just a tad bit too expensive for the rustic and uncouth Abin. There were at least two studs in the college who were seriously hitting on Kamini and Abin stood nowhere in front of them. First two years went by and they did not reap any fruits in the romance department for Abin . His study department was quite productive though as he secured a good overall percentage in the finals. Kamini knew Abin existed but his existence would not tie knots in her stomach. He was a bunch of laughter for his peers. Once when a professor asked him his name in the class, he answered his roll number. The whole class became hysterical at his funny, naïve gesture. Then once when a guy at the back bench, where he was seated, offered him Tulsi zarda—the Indian brand tobacco, he took few pinches and put them all behind his lower lip. Within seconds, he saw that the classroom was spinning. He felt grossly dizzy and couldn’t help himself. He slept on his table. When the professor noticed that his head was down, he came to him and smacked him on his head with a hard-cover book. He came back to senses and screamed, “Aiyaaaa!” and the class hall vibrated in laughter. When the class was over, he was teased by his friends, both boys and girls, like never before.

It was in his third year when Abin got two opportunities to display some histrionics and he cashed in both. First was the inter-college soccer tournament in which Abin played as the center forward in the final and scored two goals against their arch rival team from Kanpur. Then in the welcome party for the newcomers, he performed as a lead guitarist and a singer for one song. He sang ‘Musu musu hasi deu na lai lai’ which was liked by many. He became known to many after the two events. Kamini too was impressed perhaps but Abin could not capitalize on it. To this date, Abin would regret on missing out on the opportunity to date Kamini. He seriously thought he stood some chance with her. He would not think he could marry her though. Cultural and linguistic variations were something his conservative family would never compromise upon.

The following year, he scored a suicide goal against his own team in the final. His team lost that game 1-0. “Do pal ruka, khwabon ka kaarawan, aur phir chal diye tum kahan hum kahan” He sang on the final day of the college.

---------------

Abin came back to Nepal after graduation. He took the GRE and applied to six schools in the US; two were within top 20, two first tier and two mediocre ones for safe bet. He got three acceptances; the best of them was from a school in California. He came to LA, California after two months for his Masters degree.

Two years went by very fast. Graduate school was less fun and more hard work. When undergrad students would booze and chill in sorority and frat parties, Abin would be working on his paper for some IEEE conference. The strenuous effort paid off for him. He got a job offer from a company in bay area right before his graduation. The following summer, he went to Nepal and got married.

He thought he found the right girl of his choice and match. Aakriti had completed her MBA from Ahmedabad, India and was working for the standard chartered bank in Kathmandu. Abin’s mom’s relative had brought the proposal on her family’s behalf. He was given her email-id. They added each other in their MSN buddy list and talked for few weeks. They exchanged their pictures as well. He found her smart and attractive. “A rare combination!” He marveled in ecstacy. “I can’t say much about myself but I have the looks of a langoor as per some pretty damsels. I ain’t that bad a langoor though as per my own assessment of myself. So up to you. Make your own mind up” He had candidly described his appearance to her. She liked him being funny and open-minded. Abin had an ingenuous sense of humor. He did not need to say or do anything in deliberation to sound or look funny. They would often talk over the phone--sometimes for hours. She would laugh most of the time at his naivety and innocence. Aakriti was very well cultured and her simplicity and candidness would not go un-noticed to anyone who came in touch with her. She was beautiful but she herself was oblivious to her own beauty and she was not being modest about it. It made her look more beautiful inside-out. Everything clicked between them. When Abin went to Nepal and met with her personally, he fell for her even more. They got married the following month.

Abin was a virgin before marriage. He did not have any girlfriends and he chose rather not to submit himself to something of a one-night stand worth. When some of his batch-mates in India would often go to a local bar to explore the opportunity to get laid, he would stay at the hostel. He thought something was not right about it. He found it grossly filthy and vile. The day before his marriage, he got so nervous that he had thought he would embarrass himself and Aakriti. He booted his computer at one in the morning and googled “female reproductive organ”. He clicked on the images just to make sure he knew how it looked like. He wanted to make sure he knew where to look for. He also wanted to be sure of the contraceptive measures. He did not want to end up making her pregnant on the very first night. Ricky was there to attend his marriage ceremony and that gave him some confidence. Ricky had brought a packet of Trojan for Abin. He taught him and gave him basic tips on how to go about it knowing it was the couple’s very first time.

---------------

Part 6: The Reunion

“Oh by the way, does anyone know the whereabouts of Anita?” Biplav asked as he started his fifth drink of the night. Anita was their batch-mate who went to the same high-school with them.

“She is in Chicago, working with a start-up company. Her husband is a software engineer. They have a two year old” Abin sighed.

“Do you talk with her?” Suraj asked Abin.

“Yeah sometimes. But not as much as I used to. She is a busy person with work, family and kid to take care of. She wants to make a lot of money and in a quick time it seems. I sometimes feel she is in a bit too much of a hurry to make money. Too much money driven I guess.” Abin said as he wiped his mouth one more time with a tissue.

“Everyone is money-driven. Just the extent is different. Some are less, some are more. That’s why you came to the US, didn’t you?” Biplav asked Abin.

“But too much of greed is no good either. Not only for money but for anything…and everything.” Suraj interrupted.

“If you look at it closely, I think everyone is driven by something or the other else the world would not work! Everyone is ambitious. Some want money, some want good education. Some want to make a big name for themselves. Who is not ambitious? Even those hermits who have left all the worldly pleasures in search of enlightenment are ambitious and driven by something. They are driven by spirituality—something they felt they needed and craved for. It’s useless to blame only on people who are after money” Biplav explained his view.

“I agree. To each their own. It’s how you see things--depends on your field of vision, the width of it. How broad it is. For you, money means everything. For some, education, enlightenment and the understanding of the crux of the things matters more. They spend billions of money for research, new findings. Why would they do that, if education and enlightenment was less necessary than money?” Suraj opined.

“Coz they want to achieve more so that they could make more money out of it. Everything boils down to money making at the end of it all” Biplav interrupted.

“And when you have enough in your pocket along with some confidence in your heart, just go ahead and ask the damsel you have the hots for out. Don’t need no fancy hummer or long hammer, but confidence is essential.” Ricky giggled.

“Yeah and for me, I think it’s the relationships you make with your people which are most important of all. Whatever you achieve, even if you launch a rocket in space on your own, doesn’t make a whole lot of sense if there is no one to celebrate with” Abin stated.

“See, but to be able to launch a rocket on your own, you gotta have money son, and a lot!” Biplav interrupted again.

“If you have adequate resources, skill, education and valid objectives, you can write a grant proposal and they will pay for you” Suraj was quick to pounce on Biplav.

“Ok stop now, mothafu*kers!” Ricky grunted. “Don’t fight. Let’s not spoil the night” He continued.

“Who’s fighting?” Abin looked at Ricky in amazement.

“Yeah who is?” Suraj added.

“Tehi ta kasle jhagada garyo khai? Just a normal brainstorming session” Biplav stuck his tongue out and winked at Suraj. Soon they all started laughing together, sometimes at each other and sometimes at other patrons—mostly girls.

“Oh boy, this night is special, ain’t it?” Abin was tipsy.

“Yeah very special. Three boys and just a girl. What a tragedy!” Suraj giggled.

“Chup lag! But seriously, we should organize this sort of reunion at least once a year. What say you guys? Abin asked.

“Definitely!” Biplav seconded Abin.

“Yeah, friends are important” Suraj approved. “Just imagine, there are billions of people in this planet. A few thousands you come across, few hundreds know you and very few of them love and care about you the way we do for each other. You cannot leave a person who knows your inside-out, who knows your inner-self. They are really precious” Suraj became a bit emotional.

“Pheri arko emotional bhayo. We are gonna meet together every year at least once. Let’s make a solemn vow as a group” Abin said.

“I agree. That calls for a toast. Last drink? Bottoms up? Shall we?” Biplav proposed.

“Yeah but don’t forget, bottoms up can lead to bottoms spread” Ricky burst into laughter.

Biplav ordered the last round of drinks. They did bottoms up together. When they were done, all of them got madly drunk. They laughed their hearts out until dawn.

---------------

Two days later, Abin, Suraj and Ricky left for their respective places and left a void for Biplav. He was trying to get back to his normal routine but he felt something was missing. He went to his bedroom and turned his CD player on.

I 'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you
I know you were right believing for so long
I 'm all out of love, what am I without you
I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong

Air Supply was playing. He was moved by the song. He had listened to it several times before but it did not have that effect on him. The moment was different. A realization had hit on him. The importance of people who loved him had struck his mellow heart more than his ambitious mind. He realized that all of a sudden his eyes were getting wet. It just happened that tears trickled down his cheeks and he felt that he should call her.

“Hello, How are you?” He asked her over the phone.

“Oh hi! How come you called me today out of the blue?”

“Yeah life’s not always all rosy. It gives you lot of blues intermittently”

“Biplav, are you okay? I hear someone crying”

“Yeah I am fine. Just wanted to clear my blurred vision a bit” He faked a smile

“Ok. Tell me how you are then”

“I am good. Just as usual…or may be not. Did you graduate?”

“Yes I did. Am working for a law firm. It’s been just a month” She sounded quite excited.

“That’s really good news. So you control crimes huh?”

“Yeah I do. Criminal Justice Major, what else do you expect Mister?” She giggled.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah sure, go ahead!”

“Does your Criminal Justice find me guilty or innocent?”

“I can’t say. It’s not objective. Probably it was time more than you. It was not under your control or mine”

“I am guilty in my eyes though. I realized that I had been a prick so if I get down on my knees and make an earnest request to you asking for reconsideration, would you please reconsider?”

A long silence followed thereafter until Biplav broke the ice. ”Would you please reconsider?.......Please?”

“Yes…….I would but I am afraid it’s too late Biplav. My parents want me to get married soon. By now, they must have chosen a partner for me as well”

Biplav could not speak futher. “All the best” was all he could muster. He thought he deserved it. Rachita deserved someone better.

---------------

He called his mom a day later. After usual exchange of pleasantries, his mom asked him if he was ready for marriage.

“I have a very good proposal from a dear friend of mine” She said.

“All your proposals are good mom, it’s not about that. I just don’t want to get married right now”

“Pahila sun ta ramrosanga. Okay, the girl is in Australia. She is working for some law company and she just graduated in Criminal Justice. Khai ke naam po bhanthi. Ekchin pakh hai, I will look at my address book….oh okay, it’s Rachita. I have her email id too. lekh ta!”

Biplav was jubilant with what he heard from his mom. He could not have asked for anything better. He tried to sound as if he was not interested though“ Aba hajur testo bhansincha bhane, okay I will take down her email”

“Birth, marriage and death are predestined by karma” Biplav had read somewhere and he thought it was true. In his case, marriage was both predestined and free-willed.

---------------

Biplav and Rachita got married that summer in Nepal. Rachita quit her job in Australia and came to New York with her husband. She got a job in a law firm in New York City. The following winter, believe it or not, Ricky got married as well. It was a love marriage. He realized that he was balding so he thought he should stick with the one he was dating then—Ashwini. “It’s not a*s but Ash that I should settle with” He had realized. Suraj’s parents visited their son in summer and he introduced Jessica to them. They liked her but marriage was a big no initially. After five months of stay, they came to terms with her culture because of Jessica’s good nature and open-mindedness. “It’s the person and not her culture that matters eventually” They convinced each other. Abin accidentally made Aakriti pregnant. It was a cold rainy night and they went outside without umbrella or rain-coat. Thank god the thunderstorm was not that violent.

The following year, the four friends again got together. The venue was San Jose, California. A year before they were four, a year later eight. They talked about whole lot of stuffs they experienced before and after marriage. “Life is not that bad even after marriage” They all concluded over a toast.

---------------

Care is the ingredient that keeps true friendships alive despite separation, distance or time. Care gives latitude to another person and gets you past the dislikes and annoyances. Quite simply, caring sustains love.

*************************THE END*************************

Last edited: 20-Mar-08 01:02 PM

 
Posted on 03-18-08 2:34 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 


Loote,

man, how can u even type so long

I'll go home and read.. Starting was interesting. Total bombardment with F Bomb

Good Goin hunky... so now tell me which one is you...
Last edited: 18-Mar-08 02:35 PM

 
Posted on 03-18-08 2:43 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Loots, this explains why you've been away from the Cafe for so long..ek choti ko laagi maaf payau..I'll read it and write more hai ta..

 
Posted on 03-18-08 4:10 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

.

I know, i wouldn't want to miss this one. At least for the sake of the title which has all the wonders of life in it. But it is too long. ( On your defense : writing about those wouldn't even sum up in million words! )

Later.

 
Posted on 03-18-08 4:36 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

I just printed out. Looks like funny as it is mentioned in disclaimer that 'resemblance is intentional'. You have good idea to end it at once.
 
Posted on 03-18-08 5:00 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Are there vividly descriptive R-rated scenes also?
 
Posted on 03-18-08 6:14 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Loots, so you finally decide to take the plunge ho? Very nicely written..once I started, I couldn't stop reading. Reminded me of many things..he he...btw, am looking forward to the girls night out now :)

 
Posted on 03-18-08 11:05 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Ramro chha, it was a long read, cant believe I finished it. At times it got a bit monotonous but plots were different in some ways..... could relate to some, had some big laughs too....
Thanks for the effort.




 
Posted on 03-19-08 12:51 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

oh !! That was nice...... I liked it . hey u should make a movie on this story..............
 
Posted on 03-19-08 1:18 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

hey loote bro! kinda came to peek in here and my my..wat a nice suprise!:oD

am lackn time right now (im supposed to be doing some labwork but instead am now tryn to finish the last part of a korean movie!wahaha ;oP ..so yeah pretty cropped up for time right now ..)but weeknds shud be good!:oD ..already am feeln a bit better (hasnt been the best of days) so cheers for that..ahh..lookn foward def does brighten up ones life hoina?;oP...anyways enuf of blabbering..am runnin out of time haha..

hope all is well! and cheers for sharing!:oD..can already feel that im gonna be immensely enjoying the read..but i guess..feeln when not doing it is one thing..feeln while doing it is another?;oP hehe..yeah wat am i talkn about?:o|

ps i have saved it in a words so ..no use if u delete!;oP..bad experiences of seeing too many writers deleting their stuffs :oS..

pps..hello sndy!:oD

 
Posted on 03-19-08 5:09 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Gimme a break !

 
Posted on 03-20-08 2:18 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Oh boy! typos typos and more typos...bad sentence construction, long intricate sentences and paras..they're everywhere. I might have hurried posting this piece without much editing, I am really sorry about that. I realize that editing is a crucial part in story writing. But i am just a starter--a crude novice so to speak and i am learning.

Mav,
Hope you managed to read it. I wrote it while i was on a bed-rest. That perhaps explains the length :P. And no, I ain't anyone in the story. It's a complete fiction. That's why the disclaimer :D

Sndi,
LOL! no i don't know how to swim :P haha....glad to know that you liked the piece (i hope you are being honest though :P)...and yah you should not miss the night-out, definitely not :D

Oldmaven,
It's a long piece indeed but I don't want to defend its length :P.....I just kept writing whatever stroke in my mind which I thought I should jot down...hope it came out good enough, if you managed to read it. :P

Parbatya,
I am not sure whether you liked the piece. If you haven't read it yet, happy reading. If you didn't like it, never mind :D

Hyde,
HAHAHA..no there is no such vivid description IMO. The love-making scenes are merely to juxtapose and  delineate the differences between different characters in the story. I didn't write them merely to brew paltry entertainment :D

mati,
mucho gracias! much appreciated. you found it monotonous? and i thought i had made it not so by giving striking differences to the shades of the characters. if you still found it so, then i failed ;P..

dhimaar,
thanks man! appreciate your feedback. not sure if anyone will be ready to produce the movie LOL...only if i manage to produce, direct and act all together by myself. but then, who's gonna watch it ? HAHAHA

danny bro!
thanks for stopping by. enjoy the read (if you are going to read it that is :P)

Alson,
no problem bro. have a kit-kat :D



(thanks to all the silent readers)

 
Posted on 03-20-08 3:17 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

“Does your Criminal Justice find me guilty or innocent?”  Simple...... and yet express the very core idea of your story in a single sentence. 

wonderful story including plot personae and disclaimer of course.....was a little bit long; however, I did enjoy thoroughly. 

You sud definitely write more.   (at least biweekly)

Last edited: 20-Mar-08 03:26 PM

 
Posted on 03-20-08 4:38 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Loots,

It's great n just took 2 days to finish. Four different charecters and one combination that reminded me the 'used to' gatherings mainly talking on 'girls, wife, wine, carrier....' You ended the story seriously except (in my mind) the 'filmy' reunion of Biplav and Rachita. Mostly I like are : Biplav's deletion, Ricky' ego, Abin's innocence (?) etc. I thought I am the only weak in that case, but good news, there are Abins too.

You made me 'look for loot's story'

Parbatya


 
Posted on 03-20-08 5:33 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

loote bro.......different characters different shades, interesting read. just that i anticipated the story to grow longer while beginning to read part 6.
i am not a sajha fanatic but among acquaintances in this virtual circuit, loote you are one  i would like to bump into...........dude print a t-shirt with your virtual name on it or with a loote canine on it .........how would it look like?? hehe.............
la ta compliments, compliments......keep them coming!!!!

 
Posted on 03-20-08 5:41 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

Loots, bed rest re? K bho? Of course I'm telling you honestly..otherwise I wouldn't even comment ni..

 
Posted on 03-20-08 8:33 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

.LooTe bro!  you write it very nicely always. At first I felt like if I was watching 'The Departed' or what. he he he ! with all these **-words ke! LOL (kidding!) ... 24 pages intimidated me initially but it was worth it.... Four friends... four different characters... and perspectives... and to top it off your inputs regarding loneliness and solitude and much more...  aasom!

Well Yeah!! "Life is not that bad even after marriage" Cheers!! ;-)


 
Posted on 03-28-08 7:37 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

nice story boss

i know i am late to read but it was really nice especially the way u described the places and incidents happening in the story

keep it up


 
Posted on 04-03-08 11:59 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?    
 

....................and no matter what you deserve this. passionate, ambitious and very very intense piece indeed.

 a bit chaotic but fair share has been given to every character.that's the most challenging thing you have done in the story. i admire your "non-mainstreamness". however, add more dimensions to your characters, some of them are too static.it seems like they are cut and pasted puppets from somewhere else. a reader always wants to see the characters being conceived , born and  brought up in the story itself. your character constructions are a bit too mechanical, i would have preferred more biological making.

writing for oneself is the least selfish selfless thing one could do. what say you?
kudos dear doggie!

 



PAGE:   1 2 NEXT PAGE
Please Log in! to be able to reply! If you don't have a login, please register here.

YOU CAN ALSO



IN ORDER TO POST!




Within last 7 days
Recommended Popular Threads Controvertial Threads
TPS Re-registration case still pending ..
and it begins - on Day 1 Trump will begin operations to deport millions of undocumented immigrants
Travel Document for TPS (approved)
All the Qatar ailines from Nepal canceled to USA
NOTE: The opinions here represent the opinions of the individual posters, and not of Sajha.com. It is not possible for sajha.com to monitor all the postings, since sajha.com merely seeks to provide a cyber location for discussing ideas and concerns related to Nepal and the Nepalis. Please send an email to admin@sajha.com using a valid email address if you want any posting to be considered for deletion. Your request will be handled on a one to one basis. Sajha.com is a service please don't abuse it. - Thanks.

Sajha.com Privacy Policy

Like us in Facebook!

↑ Back to Top
free counters