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 Story: They called me stupid

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Posted on 05-24-05 1:19 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Edit as you read :)

They called me stupid
--------------------------


They called me stupid. But what can I do about it ?



All I did was for love.



The Bacardies I gulped.

The Beer cans I emptied.

The Cigarettes I puffed.



My girl is smart, what can I do about it? I bet my homies did dream of her. I bet my homies did gush their saliva through their gullets. She was the tallest girl around. My homies gave her an alias - The Bullet. With tall slender legs, white as the china just out of the dishwasher. Exactly one hundred one degrees hot. The restaurant manager Sam had the same quizzical look when she passed by him ? how could she grow so tall on being from so barren land? I was the other exception but I was always by the dishwasher quite and no one cared.



I was going far far away. I did move to the other side of the town, fifty five miles, so she can no more rattle in my head. But she played in my minds like the little harmonica that I had in my childhood. On every other breath it just became louder and louder. With every breath I inhaled, with every breath I exhaled.



She was white as the china came out fresh from the washer. Hot and gushing. I watched her by the dishwasher. Smiles she flashed. Eyes she rolled. Tunes she whistled. It gets very hot in Houston. Very humid. It all expounded on me.



I did not know that I liked her. I did not know that I loved her until this little guy started teaching her driving in his lap. On his Mazda RX-7 she looked tall on the cushion of his lap. Her head was up on the roof. I never taught any one driving, so I did not know she had to be on his lap. I did not know that I loved her till she came with the fuchsia tee she put on this party that he bought for her. I never bought any one present so I did not know how happy the recipients could become.



It is amazing how easily you can fall on love with your driving instructor. That is what she said in a party.



Oh Yea, I was answering.



There was a lump in my throat and no words came out of my mouth. This is when I knew I loved her. I could not compete for the remaining driving instructions. I did shed the tears of contrition, but all dried in and around me.I was not an aggressor. It is just I know how it hurt to see her with a guy half a feet shorter than her. I could be in peace if she had dated a guy taller than her. I could be in peace if she had dated a guy smarter than me.



I did date this white girl name Jane who worked with her as a waiter just to make her jealous. She was mad as hell. How can a typical Nepali guy be dating a white girl just to sleep around. She was a girl with culture. She was a girl loaded with eastern morals. Fresh came out of Kathmandu one hundred eighty days ago. I did not date Jane just to sleep around. I could not tell that I was taught by my homies that I was dating her just make her jealous. Cunning men have cunning ideas just to make life more complex. This complexity kills all the taste of love. And for a man of my simplicity, it gets more complex to get out of this complexity.



It is just I know how hard it is to see her pass by on her bright white shirt and black pants, maroon apron with that shinning laughter. So often, the sprinter reflected all the foods on my face. So oblivious I was, once in a while.





My homies tell me I need to get my head checked. My homies tell me I need to get my head fixed. I checked my head at nights all alone, and I knew exactly where my head was fixed. The silver moon that shine looked exactly like the china fresh out of the dishwasher minus a smile.



This is the same girl Jane who started insisting around such a stunning beauty she is, she should be dating a better guy. This is when I had to step up. I was known all my life for this cringing submission. This is when I became bold. This is when I had to come out of my cocoons to hold my head high. This is what that time demanded. And, all I did was for love.



I knew the little guy was dismayed. I did not mean to hurt him but I could no longer hurt myself. He paid her tuition semesters after semesters. It costs a fortune to put some on through schools on internationals fees. Definitely, He had a reason. He dreamed a better future for both of them so he worked so hard to send her to school. He dreamed of her working as a professional and him taking caring care of the kids. I have seen his eyes stitched to cribs and cradles. I bet he dreamed of a green card in his wallet.





They told me, I had no business continuing as a business major unless I wanted to keep dishing in this restaurant. This is when I had to shift my hands to computers. I knew I had no business of messing with computers. All the logic it required; it is more foreign to me than my-self. But, I did manage to finish the school, despite all the odds. When it came about getting a job I had no clue how one gets it. There were no hiring managers that I know. There were no headhunters that I knew. I was just a foreigner to them with no papers. They did not know that I have same genes as of the Indians they dominated the market of programming. I had no business I finding a job that I did not like. I had better things to do. I had to drive around my girl to the groceries. I had to drive around my girl to the movies. And, all I did it for love.



Are you not going to find a real job? She asked me. This is when I came to understand the job I had was unreal. This is when I realized she was running out of me. This is when my homies told me either a man satisfy a women materially or physically. Since, I knew I had no real job I had no means to satisfy her materially. I did awake all night as long as she was awake. I did all that I had in my capacity to satisfy her. This is again another revelation to me. All I thought was love. I thought just a pure love was enough to bind us together. With cunning men?s cunning ideas, I kept sinking my ship that was long afloat. I was holding the mast tighter.I did go to the temples to save my love. I promised a pair of doves to the goddess by the river.





My girl is smart, what can I do about it? She gets this real job. She got this job in some distant land playing with key boards of computers. I bet my homies did dream of having a girl with a real job. I bet my homies did gush their saliva through their gullets dreaming of the slender legs. I bet my homies were beguiled by the smiles she played around her temple.



My homies say a girl does not leave her house with her hair all open. It is an ill omen to me. She has long black hair as a cascade falls through the hills. I love it shining and untied. My homies say a girl does not leave her lover smiling. I loved her unabated smiles. I did see the pain in her face of leaving me. To this day, I know I must have seen my own reflection on her face. Back in the village, Folks say, after you are so long with a women you tend to look like her. I must have seen my crying heart rehearsing for a little laughter on her.



There could be some other me, passing by her cubicals, watching the smiles she flash.

There could be some other me, passing by her cubicals, looking at the Eyes she roll.

There could be some other me, passing by her cubicals listening to the tunes she whistl.





I would love to continue on this same job for ever. I know all about it now. But it harder to sit next to the dish washer and not to think of her. She passed though these alley thousands of times. Each of the tiles here contains her foot prints that takes me to the distant past. The dishes come out of the washer, on every china I see her there. On every bowls she laughs. This is when I have decided to quite this job. I coldly said one morning- I am out.





They called me stupid. But what can I do about it ? I know Highway 10 is the busiest highway in the USA. It has the cloggiest intersection.



I work at this graveyard shift in this quite night. Folks come giggling, hugging. Slender long legs saved to the skin. Arms rested on little girls next to them. I can see her again in my eyes. I have a thing to dream. I have a dream to dream.



All I did was for love.



The Bacardies I gulped.

The Beer cans I emptied.

The Cigarettes I puffed.



My girl is so beautiful. My girl is so smart. She had to move to this new city for this job she just had. I bet my homies did gussed their salivas through their gullets. Since she is gone, I can awake all night with out a blink in my eyes. I have been promoted to the assistant manager just last week, and this is all her gift to me.



The Bacardies I gulped.

The Beer cans I emptied.

The Cigarettes I puffed.



The beauty that I await in life now.


 
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Posted on 05-25-05 3:06 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Houston, simply loved it!
 
Posted on 05-25-05 3:25 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Snrup,

His dog thinks all the masts are elongated dicks. His old men wait a chance to screw their daughter in laws. Let them. Despite that, Samrat to me is as Rusdhie to Indian writers. I don?t know how well my analogy holds. I think he opened a while new horizon for Nepalese writers.

About supplementary dictionary, I can read V. S. Naipaul easier than our Brand name Sajha writers. Nepali Times is harder to read than Newyork Times.

Chha Ni Euta Bhanai ? Naya Mullah Jyada Pyaj Khhata Hai.

 
Posted on 05-25-05 3:37 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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very good Houston. How could have I missed this one so far?
Write more. Real quality takes more time to be honoured. I will try never to miss your stories now.
 
Posted on 05-25-05 4:28 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Exclusive way of composition. Enjoyed!:)

Ashley!
 
Posted on 05-25-05 8:20 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Posted on 05-25-05 9:55 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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houston,

enjoyed it completely!!

-raccoon
 
Posted on 05-26-05 1:33 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Love to read more, great work mate!!
 
Posted on 05-26-05 5:32 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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LOL snurp.... this is not the first time I have seen you commenting upon my comments rather than the main theme and life of the thread. I have started wondering what the deal is .. hehhe.... seems a bit out of the picture to me.

Well and talking abt the contrast between your and my opinions... all people have different thinkings dun they. If all people were the same then this earth would be an intolerable place to live in.

BAck to the main hero of the thread.... Houston... :). I did not mean to say that the repetation killed the story. The repetations are quite effective and gets the theme inside the head.. its just 1-2 places that I thought it was awkward. As I have mentioned earlier I really think tht ur style is unique and I will always look ahead to read more from you:)
 
Posted on 05-26-05 10:23 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Houston, nice arts of words. ya and for sure i didn't use any supplementary dictionary to understand your words. Great way of expressing.. cheers.
 
Posted on 05-27-05 9:33 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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I work graveyard shift in this GAS STATION at this quite night.

Ani tyo GAS STATION chhahi Pakistani ko. Tyo pani bhannu parchhas? :)

Rythm, snurp, Amazing, Nirman, SITARA, newuser, Ashley, pundit, raccoon, sursab, nivaN

Thanks for kind words.
 
Posted on 05-27-05 11:29 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Hey Houston Bro,
ma pani houston mai ho, timi kata tira ho yaar esso address pau na

 
Posted on 05-27-05 1:56 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Houston,
I thought it was excellent. Yo should write often dude. Jhakas cha la.Enjoyed it.

Baru keyboard thokdai kaha tira muntiyee uni ? Ke bhanche ta aja bholi?

Indisguise:)
 
Posted on 05-28-05 8:54 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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mysteryman2055,

where in houston r u re?
 
Posted on 05-31-05 2:15 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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IndisGuise,

Heard She is timrai Gau ma Key Board thokdai chhina re!!!
 
Posted on 05-31-05 2:15 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Babu mysteryman2055,

Kata Harako?
 
Posted on 06-30-05 11:17 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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I said,

Should I click it or should I not........

Afterall, i did click and it happened to be a good read. Something fresh than usual.

Hope none might be interested in deep critical analysis so here I am done with these few lines...
 
Posted on 06-30-05 11:21 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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ooh and yes, ...received an email :P

back to haunt ! :)


 
Posted on 07-01-05 3:48 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Houston,

Another Samrat in the making, eh.. Carry on Serge Major.

I agree with your comment on 'Brand name Sajha writers' - I know, even Proust would be an easy read than them.

So more stories. You might as well bring those ogling dirty old Harries wanting to 'screw their daughter in laws' to your court, so you can teach them a lesson. One parting suggestion: smash their 'dicks' (excuse my French) with a big hammer. Your kitchen knife would be an option, if that fails. How about that?

Good, innit? (I once happened to like my being called 'the' Gurkha cockney, mind you! Assuming you don't reside in this part of Belaayat, I thought I dropped a wee foot note, so you are not confused with this strange lingo)

Carpe Diem!

S Lahure

 
Posted on 07-01-05 3:57 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Hmmm usually I never read such threads but this one did touch my heart. I read it as a poem wowoowoo got goose bumps. Nice :)
 
Posted on 07-01-05 9:39 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Perplexed,

>> received an email

Didn't get it.
 



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