The Culture of difference

 Like a street doggy, in the late afternoon, the drizzling rainfall accompanied me throughout the journey from school to home! Absence of scorching sun pushed me to “Kaapingh garden”, the beautiful destiny of mine, where I usually prefer to spend some time alone in absence of busy schedule.

That day, I vividly remember the first time I met with my friend who taught me the undiluted lessons and knowledge  that has helped developed in me inner perfection.

On that very day, he was one of the new faces in the garden that drew my attention. He was busy with his pottery work trying to shape something. My 9-years’, childish mind got attracted to it that made me hover around him. All of a sudden, his mind got diverted from his work and his questioning glances reflected on the retina of my eye. Even though his gentle blinking of eye, perhaps assured that he was a good person. Well, that was all!

Since that day, every evening after school, I came to meet him and therefore, in reward he provided me with positive energy. A 75-years old man, Bir Bahadur, my friend, always held a positive charm in me. The old man, my Paa, was a good looking person with cheerful mind and heart. My Paa always had some interesting topic to talk about. His funny gossips never failed to make me burst into enormous laughter! Inspite of such an age difference between us, I never felt uncomfortable because he was childish to himself, his thoughts though matured, he believed in fairy tales, just like me.

One evening my late arrival at the park, scared me while approaching towards my Paa. Even then, he was ever again busy in doing his own work. That time, I saw an old mobile phone in his hand which he handed me hurriedly and said, “See! what is wrong with this phone, it is not working!”

I looked into the mobile phone but could not detect any problem. So, I said, “Paa, I think this phone is working well…”! Till I would complete my sentence, he quickly replied, “Then, why don’t I receive any call from my children?”

My mind went blank for a second. My heart started leaping up with no control and my body started to shiver. I had no answer for him. That has been the perplexing question, animating me for next couple of months to come because he never used to speak a word about his family affairs. But, these things never interested me!

Later, on that day, I realized my paa was suppressed inside by his family. That was the reason why he always hesitated to have family conversation with me. That insecurity made me unable to digest the fact that my friend had another dark phase in his life which has made him feel incomplete from inside. That time, I had no guts even to make an eye contact with him. That’s why, I concluded our conversation quickly and went back to home.

Whole night, my mind was confused for that same recurring incident. The man who taught me how to live was himself the victim of his life. How could I tolerate all those humiliating facts that seemed like a horror movie?

Next morning, I decided to start with a fresh mind and clear all my doubts. I had a great desire to go into the depths of truth. I dressed myself in my Paa’s favorite colour with the aim of welcoming his inner world boldly. I was ready for all those do-or-die situations that would come across my path. Finally, carrying a strong faith inside, I went to his house which was almost 1 km away from my home.

But again, my planning went all in vain. For the second time life again placed me in that same trouble where I could never attempt to clear up the mess made by his haters in his absence. Truly, I thought of jumping down the cliff when I saw a key hanging down at his red-graveled house. The pain was somewhat beyond defining. That time, I thought of losing my friend, whom I treasured the most in my life. However, I captured my attention though the pain was harder to bear because what feels like an end is often the beginning.

Obviously, I was very thankful to all those society members through whom I came to know that my paa was taken to Pashupati-Briddha Aashram by his younger son, the previous night.

Soon I realized my Nepali society, which has long forgotten its tolerant past, where there was love, happiness and prosperity, has fallen into the abyss of greed, hatred and jealousy. Ancient rich cultural indifferences are difficult for the young bloods to learn and for old to maintain. My Paa, was now victimized by the same culture. Today, I choose to be grateful for everything I have, be kind to myself and my loved one, to be alive for now and after then.

I am with my dad, who is my paradise, holding his hand to serve and cherish the wisdom of my Paa, and the others whom I met at the ashram because one person caring about other represents life’s greatest value. The step I take today, will set a new goal, a new dream in my life, which I will fulfill at any cost.

My paa, the most superior, who taught me that friendship is not restricted to age or position, will see a confident me, cherishing his life-long struggles. Entering to the ashram was like entering to towards the glorious mission of my life. I saw my friend at the corner of the room, whose old lips, were in search of few dry speeches, to scream and let his pain out! The enrich smile of my friend, that has struggled through years and tears, while he saw me, turned my sorrows to happiness and unlovely to love. I told to myself, “Paa, my heart may change over time, but the love it carries for you, will be the same”….

The thing I did at the final sort was, I went to my dad, provided him with the warm kiss and said, “I won’t let this happen to you”…..

Friends, love your family!!!

Moral : The contribution of our parents is priceless.

— Written by : Sudikshya Timalsina

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2 Comments

  1. Never thought she had this part of life. I rarely read any tale from starting to ending. I read this one without missing single word. Honestly, you made me proud. I felt kid that I first saw in grade 4 is not a kid anymore. She is a beautiful writer now.
    love ya n god bless.

    Liked by 1 person

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