Residents at Steven’s Court, Winnersh enjoyed a Nepali evening last Thursday.  They were treated to Nepali food, took part in a quiz about Nepal (many were surprised by how much they knew!) and wore saris whilst dancing to Nepali music.  The aim of the event was to raise awareness of the plight of women in Nepal and to raise funds for WWR.

Anna from WWR with Doreen who helped arrange the event

Well, I just came back from my night duty and haven’t slept for 21 hours up untill now. Anyway, I thought of staying awake and crack on with my final artwork piece for this album and upload the songs for downloads. Some people say, “You got to be kidding me if you’re giving your music for free…”. Well, just today I’ve found the answer (in my mind) and as a FAQ, my top answer choice (from me for that question) is “I give my music for free because this is sort of an art of busking. The only difference is that it is on the internet and no one throws money.” And ofcourse I cannot sing, honest. Haha. Whatever the case or trouble is, if it’s free then it’s free. It is all for fun and love for trying to make something creative and hopefully positive. I hope you enjoy it. Regards.

PRHY
November

01. All [download]
02. Arrangement of movements [download]
03. Going east [download]
04. Horns of Tibet (sketch) [download]
05. Trees know [download]
06. Little daisy and the cloud [download]
07. Forbidden views [download]
08. Children below [download]
09. Comb the corns [download]

Album covers : front – back

Download instructions (PC): Right click on the “download” link and “save as…” and for (Mac): “?”.

Lyrics:
01. All: They would never ever believe you after all / I couldn’t believe mistakes could make me fall / Even the roaring thunder hears me call / I plucked her flower petals from her home / Oh you’ve been surfing on walls / You’ve been riding on clouds / Before dawn you’ve been craving for your answers / I’m seeing it all / You’ve seen it all.

02. Arrangement of movements: Sequential arrangement of movements with methods of nature’s survival / They continue to sample mortar bombs and cities with mass export tombs / Counting all / Then when political figures depart / Left unbalanced and nuisance to the whole generation, count / Now what would be left / will disappear, all out suddenly.

03. Going east: Don’t worry about my soul in the forest / Don’t worry about being up and honest / Don’t grief and be blinded when my love sustained / I’ll be setting off a far gone / Forget about searching me, far long / Oh no / Gary Snyder and Smokey bear would come along and knock on your door while I’m long gone / Tell them I’ll send a postcard with my song on / So I’m off to the east now beyond Pacific to see the samurai and ronin, both alike / Rice cakes and rainy rice fields I’ll pluck along.

04. Horns of Tibet (sketch).

05. Trees know: Set my feet on the grass dew / It’s just morning giving breath a new / I’m never coming back / So the trees would know what to include / Chum salmon had a baby few / Another old man’s lost years for his home brew / Daughter’s never coming back / Their smiles can be found engraved on your medallion / Like the pine trees smiled at your words / It was only because they accepted you / I’m never coming back / I’ve found home where the air is welcoming.

06. Little daisy and the cloud: O’ little daisy, what did the cloud say? / He told you, you don’t even smile after a rainy day / So little daisy, where will you run away? / To your world beyond the sea after a rainy day /  O’ Mister oak tree, where were you a year? / I thought you were dead already / So I cried away / O’ Mister Oak tree, will you find Daisy? / She thought you were dead so she missed out today / O’ you unhappy cloud, why are you sad today? / Don’t worry now, you will marry the sun someday.

07. Forbidden views: Forbidden views on the burnt ash and sea green / Dismiss all your actions and dismiss all your emotions / Mentally they disappeared your global views and corruption was behind those curtain walls / Pale as white and her robe hung alone in the wilderness of lost, must have been hidden / New choice, no voice awaits.

08. Children below: How you’ve been dreaming on and dreaming on your snow white pillow / Now you have forgotten, you have forgotten the children below / Grab on to your lonely days, your lonely ways for a while.

09. Comb the corns: Oh baby, won’t you change your cause? / Won’t you buy me a colour? / Then maybe I could paint your future / Maybe then someday you will see / That the light is wider than it may seem / Now baby, won’t you comb the corns? / Will you know the people have none? / Then maybe they could tell you a story / Oh baby, the world is now so insane / With guns and weapons, they arm each other / The maybe you could change it all / So baby, when once the people see it all / They grab the dust and grow the seeds / And the light shall reach your future.

Info: All tracks written and performed by Prabesh Hembya Limbu.
Published by Hamiharu music (Hamiharu press&distro) London, UK. 2009.

Extra info / notes etc: Yup, below is the sketch and the raw un-edited painting I did for the album cover.

Acrylic on canvas paper. 20×16in.

I wanted the character (above) to look like an old tree trunk sitting and wondering. But I don’t know if he really looks like one. Haha my mother was like “what kind of frog is that?” haha. So yeah I guess we should leave this old tree trunk guy alone and wondering.

PRHY & Sunil Pun.
Himalayan split E.P.

A: Sunil Pun_
01. Away with years [download]
02. Euta nadi [download]
03. Untitled [download]

B: PRHY (Prabesh Hembya Limbu)_
04. Folklore for us, oh Ma! [download]
05. She stood on the branches [download]
06. Chapaniley [download]

Info: All tracks written and performed by Sunil Pun and Prabesh Hembya Limbu except “Euta nadi” by Sunil Pun has additional guitars by Bhokraj Gurung and “Chapaniley” by PRHY is a cover originally written by Ganga Bardan.
Published by Hamiharu music (Hamiharu press&distro) London, UK. 2009.

Lyrics:

01. Away with years (Sunil Pun): Would you believe it if this was all untrue / Could not held my head up high for this to be compromised / Never promised i could lift you up / Its time to leave it its time to go / All these dream that was washed away with year / All these pain that flown away with tears / Never believe that it could release me / time to leave it, its time to go.

04. Folklore for us, oh Ma! (Prhy): Sending sand over half broken ground / mixture and evolved emotions and sound / find all forgotten / philosophical rides / folklore for us, oh Ma! / taken on light, all light, surface / traces and spaces of all conscious minds / search for all you got / no changes this side / folklore for us, oh Ma!

05. She stood on the branches (Prhy): Shine like the eyes of a night owl / brought nose mountain shaped triangle / she stood on the branches / on last year’s fine seeds / help me climb up please / you can see me down here / kindly she whispered to my ear / she brought me corns and onions / next year I will get you a silk dress / where then all skies and stars reflect.

06. Chapaniley (Prhy): Tsapaniley tsan tsan / dabakile haan / dabakiko nigharaile paryo malai baan / ghumai deuna nani / ghumai deuna / baruli kammar / ghumai deuna / sathai basauli nani sathai hasauli / dui din ko jiban yo / sangai bitauli / bari pipala nani, pari bara / hami duiko mana mili / kina baschau para / tsam tsami nani tsam tshami / dekhai deu duniyalai, tsam tsami / kaati ramailo tsa ni / aaja ko dina / bheta bhayo doibo sangyog hamro milana / la hai bari lai lai hamro yobana / piunei parne yo dabaki jaard tsin tsina.

Nepali Khagendra Thapa Magar, is preparing to enter the Guinness Book of Records as the smallest man in the world.
Officially, he will he has become the record holder a few days ago, when he reached the age of 18 years. This is one Guinness Book’s stipulations to approve the record: the person must be at least 18, so will not be able to develop in the future.
Khagendra Thapa Magar, 61 cm, celebrated his 18th birthday in the weekend, when he received a cake about the same size as he.

आशिर्वाद जस्तो सिरानीमा उभिएको
माछापुछ्रे हिमालको छायामा उभिएर
म तिमीलाई सलामी दिन्छु
तिमीलाई पनि एउटा हिमाल मानेर |
अहिले तिमीलाई यो चिठी लेख्न बस्दा
मेरो कोठाको मौनता
परिणत भएको छ कुनै बौद्ध विहारको शान्तिमा
जहाँ बालेको धूपबाट निस्केका धुवाँझैं
बिस्तरी-बिस्तरी उठेर
मेरो अगाडी उभिरहेछ
तिम्रो बुढो र पातलो शरीर
एउटा अस्पष्ट तर पवित्र अनुहार बोकेर |
र मलाई अनायास याद आइरहेछ आफ्नो गाउँको
जहाँ एउटा खोला छ – ‘लेते खोला’
तिमी जस्तै शान्त र दुब्लो
तर जब त्यो सानो खोलामा बाढी आउँछ
वरिपरिका ठुल्ठुला चट्टानहरुको पनि पाइला डग्मगाउँछ
र बाढी थामिएपछी
त्यसलाई छेक्न खोजेका घमण्डी पहराहरुले
आफुलाई भत्केको, भास्सिएको र चोइटिएको पाउंछन्
मेरो ‘लेते खोला’ !
म ढुक्क छु
तिम्रो बाढीले पनि मिल्क्याउनेछ
ती डलरका कात्रो बोकेर
तिम्रो देशमाथि आइलागेका बर्बरहरुलाई |
भूगोलको परिधिले मलाई बाँधे तापनि
राष्ट्रहरुको बिचमा सिमरेखाहरुले
मलाई तिमीसंग बेग्ल्याए तापनि
यी सबभन्दा माथि जहाँ चेतना छ
यो सबभन्दा माथि सच्चा जहाँ मुटुको ढुकढुकी छ
त्यहाँ मा तिमीसंग छु
र युद्धमा परेको छु
तिम्रो प्रत्येक घरको भत्काईमा म बेघर भएको छु
तिम्रो प्रत्येक पूलको टुटाईमा म टुटेको छु
तिम्रो प्रत्येक गोल-गोल मंगोल अनुहार भएकी
आइमाइको बेईज्जतीमा
मैले आफ्नी पत्नी र दिदि-बहिनीहरुलाई
बाटोमा निर्वस्त्र देखेको छु
तिम्रो प्रत्येक बौद्ध-बिहारको विध्वंसमा
मैले आफ्नो स्वयम्भुको ज्ञानचक्षुमा
आँसु उर्लिएको देखेको छु
तिम्रो हनोइमाथिको बमवर्षाको छिर्का
मैले आफ्नो धरहरामाथी परेको अनुभव गरेको छु
र बमवर्षाका रातहरु
मैले पनि जागरणका ट्रेन्चहरुमा बिताएको छु
को सक्छ निदाउन खरबारीमा
वरिपरी मुढाहरु दन्किरहेको बेलामा !
यी सबभन्दा बर्ता
यी सबभन्दा माथि
मैले तिम्रो प्रत्येक मृत सिपाहीबाट
बाँच्ने दर्शन सिकेको छु
जीवनको अर्थ बुझेको छु
र तिम्रो सानो देशको ठुलो आत्माबाट
मैले आफ्नो सानो सानो आत्माभित्र
एउटा ठुलो ज्योति सल्केको पाएको छु
हनोइमाथी होइन, मान्छेमाथि बम हो,
र मैले तथा मजस्तै
सारा मानिसहरुले ती बमहरुलाई
आफूमाथि पड्केको भन्ठानेका छौं
मेरो कमरेड !
मेरो हिमाल !
मेरो ‘लेते खोला’
विश्वास गर
मैले तिम्रो जीतको विश्वास गरेको छु
मानिस मर्छन
जसरी डढेलोमा रुखहरु डढ्छन
तर मानवता कहिल्यै मर्दैन
त्यो फेरी पलाउँछ
डढेलो पछी उम्रिने असंख्य च्याउहरुजस्तै
आशिर्वाद जस्तो सिरानीमा उभिएको
माछापुछ्रेको छायामा उभिएर
प्रतिज्ञाजस्तो वारिपी दृढ उभिएका पहाडहरुलाई
हातेमालो गरेर
म किरिया हाल्ने सामर्थ्यमा छु
जीत तिम्रो हुनेछ
जीत हाम्रो हुनेछ
अन्तरिक्षमा मर्ने कुकुरको शोकमा
गिर्जाघरमा रुने ढोंगी मानवता
धरतीमा गरेको हत्याको पछुतोमा
आत्महत्या गर्न बाध्य हुनेछ |

(हो-चि-मिन्ह भिएतनामी समाजवादी क्रान्तिकारी नेता हुन् | )

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BiographyRonaldo de Assis Moreira — or Ronaldinho Gaucho

to nickname-happy Brazilians — was born on March 21, 1980 in the southern city of Porto Alegre. Like most Brazilian soccer prodigies, he came from a poor family and was raised in the heart of the dirt road-laced settlements known as favelas. But his family loved the sport and found joy in playing it. Ronaldinho’s father, Joao da Silva Moreira, played in an amateur club when he wasn’t working as a welder or guarding the Gremio soccer stadium. Even though it was Ronaldinho’s older brother Roberto who was a rising star in the Gremio club, Joao saw in young Ronaldinho a true champion. The way the boy dribbled a ball around the furniture at home was unbelievable. roberto becomes ronaldinho’s managerSadly, Joao would never get to see Ronaldinho shine on the world stage. When Ronaldinho was only eight, Joao drowned in a swimming pool. Roberto’s own dreams were shattered along with his knee; relegated to a substitute player, he nonetheless had a fruitful career playing in Switzerland, Japan and Mexico. This gave him the experience necessary to manage his little brother’s soccer career. Hardly out of Gremio’s boot camp, Ronaldinho was a key player in Brazil’s victory in the Under-17 World Championship in 1997. And he scored 15 goals in 14 matches for Gremio, making the chiefs of the national squad salivate along with the Europeans teams. PSV Eindhoven offered Gremio about 7 million euros for Ronaldinho. The club promptly turned down the chump change. ronaldinho shines in copa americaEnter Wanderley Luxemburgo, the head coach of the national team going to the 1999 Copa America in Paraguay. Coming in at the end of a match against Venezuela, Ronaldinho scored a goal so perfect, it belonged in the Louvre. The following day, the Brazilian press was comparing him to the legendary Pele. A few months passed and Europe was starting to realize Ronaldinho’s value. Leeds offered the staggering sum of close to 75 million euros — about $96 million — but Gremio refused, keeping the star for the 2000 season. ronaldinho sold to psgBut Ronaldinho was hungry for the bigger pitches, and eventually found himself in the starting team of Paris Saint-Germain and in the hearts of French fans. Many say his seasons there were lukewarm, with a low goal count (eight in 27 matches in his second year). ronaldinho in the world cup2002 was the year of the “Ro”s. In the World Cup co-hosted by Korea and Japan, it was the deadly trio of Ronaldo, Ronaldinho and Roberto Carlos that made nations shiver. But it was Ronaldinho who really blew the world away in a spectacular free kick against England. The curve of the ball seemed to defy physics and glided past David Seaman’s fingers. Ronaldinho’s art helped capture Brazil’s world victory. Ronaldinho has scored 27 goals in 57 games for the five-time world champion team. ronaldinho goes to fc barcelona But a conflict with PSG coach Luis Fernandez apparently led Ronaldinho to look elsewhere. He eyed the colossal Manchester United, who was looking for a new hotshot to replace David Beckham. But it was Barcelona that won him in July 2003, offering about 27 million euros (approximately $31 million) for a five-year contract. Ronaldinho followed in the footsteps of other Brazilian greats who climbed to glory in Camp Nou, like Evaristo de Macedo, Ronaldo, Romario, and Rivaldo. Welcomed as a star, Ronaldinho didn’t disappoint. In his first season, he took Barca to second place in the Spanish league. Graceful and swift, he marvels fans as he “sambas” past every defender and launches the ball into the net. He did this 22 times in his first season. ronaldinho is player of the yearIn fact, he was so refined that 157 national team coaches and 145 national team captains voted him the FIFA World Footballer of the Year in 2004, beating out Thierry Henry of Arsenal and Andrei Shevchenko of AC Milan. Like his heroes before him, Ronaldinho took the prize while playing for Barca. He recently signed an improvement contract, increasing his buy-out clause to a reputed 150 million euros. The boy will no doubt break more records.Ronaldinho lives in Barcelona, and when asked if he has a girlfriend during a press conference, he took out a soccer ball and said, “This is her.”
Ronaldinho: Biography from Answers.com
- Ronaldinho Father played in an amateur football (soccer) club in Brazil Brother, Roberto, was a star of the amateur football club, but was sidelinedwww.answers.com/topic/ronaldinho – 427k -
Ronaldinho And AC Milan Fan Site
A free soccer site dedicated to Ronaldinho and the AC Milan offering videos, highlights, images, information, biography, wallpapers, goals and a forum to participate in.www.ronaldinho-uk.com
Ronaldinho – Video
Ronaldinho. Watch Video about Sports,Roony,Barca by Metacafe.com … Ronaldinho. Categories: Sports … Ronaldinho 1 min ago. Rated 0.0 0 Views. 06:26 …
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Ronaldinhowww.youtube.com/watch?v=P-bWsOK-h98 -
YouTube – Ronaldinho
The amazing Ronaldinho shows off his skills, technqiues and some fancy tricks. … Ronaldinho Soccer Barcelona Skills Tricks Football Futbol joga jogatv nike …
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Find Ronaldinho Photographs, Autographs & Apparel on Sale. Discover Great Deals at NexTag.com. Find Our Lowest Price and Save!www.nextag.com/ronaldinho/search-html
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MySpace Video – Search Results for Tag “Ronaldinho”
Upload and share videos, find and watch funny clips, vote and comment on your favorites, subscribe to online video channels, add cool videos to your MySpace profile …www.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.search&t=Ronaldinho -
Barça out of Champions League. Ronaldinho says : We need to focus on …
… and recovers the leadership of the league. Ronaldinho started the three moves that ended in … Ronaldinho is focuding on the future, where the game with …www.ronaldinho.cc/barc-need-to-focus-liga.html

NST is organizing “Dashain Sanjh” – a celebration on the occasion of Vijaya Dashami, with cultural programs from local artists along with special performance by Deepak Bajracharya.

The program will be held at Ramada Hotel in Irving on September 27 which is a Sunday. Program highlights include Durga Puja, Nepali traditional dances, performance by local Nepali artists as well as by popular Nepali pop singer Deepak Bajracharya. Program starts at 6pm and everybody is invited. Details are below:

When:
September 27, 2009 (Sunday) at 6pm

Where:
Ramada Hotel
4440 Airport Freeway
Irving, TX 75061

Entrance fee :
• $10 for NST members (must present valid NST membership card – you must have gotten one if you participated in the NST election on September 20, 2009)
• Free entrance for kids under 10
• $10 for teens age 10-18
• $20 for everybody else

www.dfwnepal.com

There is a New Page for you to go and check to see what’s happening in the NepaliJerks Station….

http://dfwkids.wordpress.com/adv-nepali-jerks-page1/

Nepalo Dashai Program is coming soon on

September-27-09

There are many groups dancing and there is be a lot of shows there

So everyone please try to be there…

I will put more information about the Program soon….

Keep checking back…

U can go and look at the pictures from the Nepali Nite Concert:

http://picasaweb.google.com/dfwkids/NepaliNiteConcert#

or click here

Also comment here after you have looked at all the pictures..

Tell us your opinion about the Concert……

And also vote you favorite picture…

To vote: copy the url and then paste it here http://dfwkids.wordpress.com/2009/09/15/blog-6/#respond

Thanks

U can go and look at the pictures from the Nepali Nite Concert:

http://picasaweb.google.com/dfwkids/NepaliNiteConcert#

or click here

Also comment here after you have looked at all the pictures..

Tell us your opinion about the Concert……

And also vote you favorite picture…

To vote: copy the url and then paste it here http://dfwkids.wordpress.com/2009/09/15/blog-6/#respond

Thanks

  Coterie Booth 8306 * September 22-24 * Javitz Center

Affordable, Gorgeous, Fun, High Quality Scarves

 NEPALI

As seen in WWD, Lucky, Instyle, Harpers, Vogue and more, NEPALI draws inspiration from the hand skilled craftsmanship of women weavers in Nepal and the vibrant colors seen throughout Nepal. Each accessory is hand made using the highest quality natural fibers such as cashmere, silk, bamboo and organic cotton in order to ensure the ultimate in splendor of each piece.

In addition to using the highest quality natural fibers in all of our scarves, NEPALI by TDM Design’s are created with eco-friendly, azo free swiss dyes.  NEPALI accessories are eco-conscious, socially responsible, fun and luxurious – all at the same time.

NEPALI by TDM Design works directly with women cottage industries in Nepal to support women craftsmanship and the women’s children.  With the tremendous response to our NEPALI line, we are thrilled to share with you that we have partnered with a wonderful school in Kathmandu and are now fully supporting our weavers’ children’s education! 

Come see our Spring/Summer 2010 Collection at Coterie September 22-24, booth 8306.

Sales Contact:
cynthia oconnor + company
141 w36th street, floor 12a
new york , ny 10018
t (212) 594 4999
f (212) 594 0770
sales@cocandco.com

(Translated by Shikha Lamichhane-Mayer)

I met Bangdelji last evening on New Road. “Shankarji”, he says, “I just read your essay, you know that essay ‘Shankar Lamichhane in Shankar Lamichhane’s opinion.’”

“Did you like it?”

“It was entertaining. But too realistic. Why don’t you make the next one a little more abstract”.

“But it is you who paints the abstract. How could I attempt painting at this point in my life.”

“No, …..but what I mean is, why can’t you adopt an abstract style for your ‘pen-picture’?”

I continued to smile. (Indeed, to know how to smile is a great art in itself. As man matures, he begins to develop infinite shade and nuance in his smiles). So with a smile, I bid Bangdelji goodbye, and shrugged off his suggestion.

Vyatithji was holding the cover design for Himani. In the same way that the name Himani immediately evokes Vyatith’s penmanship, I instantly recognized Bangel’s brushwork. “You use your pen so skillfully”, he says, “you could finish writing something for me in just a day or two, in time to publish this issue for Dasain. You know I am going abroad to do it.”

I continued to smile. (It is an art to know how to smile. Indeed, if you don’t know which smile to employ at the right time, you would suffer as though you were in tears.) With a smile I bid Vyatithji goodbye, and tried to shrug off his suggestion too.

But neither Vyatith, nor Bangdel, Himani or Abstract would leave my mind. The mind is a strange beast…and once an idea takes seed, it is difficult to get rid of it. In fact, the harder you try, a struggle develops between the individual and the individuality of the idea itself. And eventually, the form in which it emerges from your mind is changed subtly from when you first conceived it. So I began to play with the idea, to see where it would lead me.

Vyatithji, just as Krishna allowed Yashoda to view the entire universe by simply opening his mouth wide, please be ready to view my universe. But do you really wish to observe the contents of my mind? To begin with, I must remind you of this: I am a thinker inhabiting the 20th century (of the western calendar), from a middle class family, and married; I am a father, young and healthy, progressive in thought and a model citizen. I am also intensely anxious, and I face many problems.

The biggest problem being: I stand here on my small ten bigha of land. It is bordered on one side by the traditions of my ancestors, and on the other I am bound by the trust of my children. I am delighted by the flight of Sputnik. I am proud when the Russians unfurl their hammer and sickle on moondust, as proud as though Khrushchev himself came to borrow the hammer and sickle from my house. However, during a lunar eclipse, I fret about being touched by a pregnant woman, and expiate by giving generous alms to beggars and sweepers, acting as magnanimous as though Maharaj Manu himself was the patriarch of the Lamichhane clan. I stay informed of all sorts of news, reading the Gorkhapatra, Newsweek and Time, and further supplement my reading with Filmare and Romance. I garner nuggets of truth within each piece of news. I am plagued by Marilyn Monroe’s suicide, weighed down by the problems of Elizabeth Taylor’s latest affair. The death of Dag Hammarskjold, the affairs of UNO chief U Thant, the Cold War, Laos, Suez, the Golan, Kashmir, Malay, Iran, Ceylon…all such problems beset my mind. I just finished Henry Miller’s “Tropic of Cancer”, and now am worried, where am I going to find “Capricorn”? I hear Sir Winston Churchill has a broken limb, and am concerned, will it heal or not? What is Nepal going to say in the UNO? Who will get the vote in the Congo? My son has finally recovered from typhoid, but I hear it is Ekadashi both today and tomorrow, so I don’t know whether I can buy meat at all. A scientist has been successful in transforming grass into milk; a terrorist has crossed the border and shot somebody; there was an attempt to assassinate the premier of France; how is the Algerian problem to be resolved? I have been reading “Myth of Sisyphus” by Albert Camus, and Camus himself is from Algeria; Telstar now has begun broadcasting television in Europe; meanwhile, the jyapu from the neighboring field has just died; he used to ask me ‘ja nai dhuna la, bajye?’ the jyapu had no children, and Bangdel too has none. But Bangdel asks me to write in an abstract style, just like his cover art in Himani, very similar to the language of Vyatith…..

Enmeshed in, and limited by this multitude of ramblings, I hold on to my individuality, fenced within this ten bigha of land. So understand, you Vyatiths and you Bangdels, that this, my life, is in itself an abstract; that with this life’s abstraction I am continually distracted, and it is this abstraction I continually try to deflect. Each day my morning begins with, “We need money to buy fresh vegetables”, and each day my afternoon is spent searching for sources of this money; each day my evening concludes with “I am a little more exhausted today”. Every day, someone known to me dies, and I spend a little time trying to forget his death. Every day I remember a little of the past; every day I anticipate a little of the future, and every day I evaluate the present. Every day, I barter, buy and sell, pawn and redeem, my confidence, my beliefs and my desires. “Our servant is being cheated by Sukuchha, the butcher, did you see the meat today, nothing but bones..”; “today the milk is so watered down….”; “firewood has become so expensive and yet it is so wet..” all these complaints, brought to me in desperation by the wife, the cook and the child, these are the very complaints which define my boundaries. On top of which, I burden myself with additional worries; such as, Nehru’s proclamation in Parliament today…is there any truth in it? Khrushchev’s action in Berlin, how will it affect the world? Where will the next World War begin? How many children will live their lives in darkness because of the effects of Thalidomide? Where did Alfred Noyes end up dying? I hear that he always wished to die on the mountains.

Bangdelji, whose life is not an abstract? What person’s life is not abhorrent to himself, until he learns to deaden the horror of living by being simply mute? Who does not experience acute despair, until he learns to mask it, bury it behind smiles? Vyatithji, which person does not feel greed and envy, until Nara himself finally extinguishes his life? This is no longer the satyayuga of rishis and seers. Today, every alert living being claims an intellect which is no less than the infinite form of Krishna.

Every human being is a god today. A god, who creates his own world employing deceit, envy, betrayal, murder, legality, obligation, superstition, faith, devotion and ignorance. God today is not confined to a particular religion, but finds expression in Christ, Mohammed and Buddha. Today, god is also diplomatic, like a Brahmin purohit,…. just like the accommodating purohit who responds, “Of course, why not sir…” when we request, “Could we not use this shortcut purohitji?…” God, today, is anti-god just like Buddha. Today, we make use of god, just like we use birth control. If we need his presence he appears, if we don’t, he is conveniently absent. Whatever dose of god is required, that is the very amount prescribed. When he is needed for Poetry he appears as Meter; when he is needed for divine Hymns, he appears as sacred Vocabulary; when he is needed for Sycophancy, he is present as the Encyclopedia; he is the Destitute in Urdu, the Compassionate in Sanskrit, and of course the Consummate in purest Bhanu Bhakta Nepali. As I was saying, man has become god today, and is replete with all the godly virtues. He has appropriated all the virtues, except one, which man has irrevocably lost, the virtue of being human. He is no longer that honest man, who lives his life remaining true to being a man, to die in the end, simply a man.

This man of today, the one who has lost humanity but has not yet achieved divinity, if this is the man you seek Vyatithji and Bangdelji, please come see me. No other greater “inhuman” person will you find; certainly no one who will expose himself as I am willing to. Vyatithji, how can I explain it? I am not labeling myself “inhuman” in rage. Look, since I call myself Hindu I am by instinct, polytheistic; nevertheless, I am also drawn to Christ, Buddha and Mohammed. I delight equally, in the veneration of God, as well as all the historical atrocities that have been committed in God’s names. If not for those atrocities, those Crusades, those Shankaracharya persecutions, those victorious conversions by Asoka’s ambassadors, those jihads by Tuglag Shah…if not for all that, then how could the Vyatiths become Hindu, the Bangdels Christian and the Shankar’s Muslim? And I would have ended a mere believer in all, and a devotee of none. How could I possibly say Om Brahmasma, when instead of believing in the Self, I only have faith in the Other?

It is because, Vyatithji, I am not a man of the present. I am a man who is yet to be born, a thousand years from today. And in that distant future, these limitations of nationality, religion, faith and politics will no longer exist.

I tell you now, why I still stand on my ten bigha of land. It is because, simply, I have no desire to be restricted by your definitions. I have no wish to be tainted by your colors. If I cross these boundaries, I will be forced to adopt citizenship, and this is why I prefer to remain an alien, without any citizenship at all. I simply exist, and am myself, that very frontier which separates present from the past, and the past from the future.

You must have seen it. It is a five faced linga, set within that ten bigha of land, undefined, unadorned and bare of any devotee’s offerings. Yet if that linga had to be removed, it would require the greatest sacrifice, that of blood. Bangdelji, do you see the color of that frontier? Is it white as in the boundary marking lattha, brown as in the earth, or red as in the lines on a map? Does it flow like the river, or is it cloaked like the mountain peak? When you transform these lines of distinction into abstract art, Bangdelji, only then will I attempt to express my thoughts in the abstract style.

Until you are capable of doing so, and while you remain unsuccessful, I also wish to remain undefined. If I did express myself in the abstract style today, then you would have to go back to the ambiance in Paris to fully comprehend it. In order to understand my abstract character, you will have to commit to memory, “One Day” all over again.

This is why I continue to smile.

And this is why, in my smile, there are subtle variations. One smile is for Vyatith, one for Bangdel, and one for my son.

And so I continue to live. Simply because I have, as yet, portrayed others and myself always with truth, and with realism. And in a realistic depiction, I would be an onion; drenched with color, twisted within layers, eternally pungent and profound.

Today, even Krishna can take on the cosmic form of an onion. So Bangdelji, draw a still life of an onion. And Vyatithji, compose an epic upon an onion. Your creations will be truly monumental. They will be authentic expressions of today’s individual and today’s society, in all its eternal desolation. And within that same painting and epic, I too may find eternal life.

If that painting or epic is not created today, then tomorrow, with the inevitable passing of Himani, Bangdel and Shankar, the future will have lost all memory of our existence.

…In the same way, a thousand years from now, all of these very distinctions too will dissolve.

The trigger for this post is this post.

This post may only appeal to Bengalis and/ or people who have stayed in Kolkata once in their life during 70’s or 80’s and have a first hand experience with  Bengalis. Apologies to others, who may not relate to the post or don’t find it useful in any way.

Long long time ago, when this earth was not a global village, when being a real Bengali meant to stay and work in Kolkata, I remember how Bengalis categorized people from the two parts of the world- One was Kolkata and second- rest of the world.

Please note the intention of this post is not to offend anyone, but to showcase how Bong’s saw other communities some 15-20 years back.

The Madrasis

All people from South India were called Madrasi. Irrespective of where they originate from- Kanyakumari, Hyderabad or Kochi, everyone is a Madrasi. A Madrasi is a person who wears a dhoti like a lungi, paints lines with white powder on his forehead and speaks a non recognizable language while addding adds an ‘y’ before and ‘a’ after almost every English word. Like, “my name is Yes Yes Venkataramana and I come to meeta Yem Yen Srinivasan fora meetinga“. The female Madrasi will wear the Saari in a weird way and she will tie Jasmine strands on their hair. Bengalis were primarily attracted to Madrasi food namely idli, dosa (pronounced dhosa), sambar and rasam and happily added to their  jolkhabar ( light snacks) menu. However, Bengali’s always believed that Madrasis used too much of coconut oil, on their hair to their food. The Madrasis had their close knit community in Deshopriyo Park, which still exists today. In Mumbai, today, Matunga ( East) is the place to find Madrasis abundantly.

An old joke- how would a Madrasi translate the Bengali sentence ‘”Ekta mota beral gnat hoye madure bose aachhe” into English ?  [ Meaning- A fat cat is sitting rock-steady on a mat]

Answer: A fatta catta satta gnatta on a matta.

The Punjabis

They are hefty people, very non-vegetarian in food habit and boisterous with humour and body hair. They wear turban, sport a steel wristlet (which is used to open beer bottles when there’s no opener at sight), they sing and dance ‘balle balle’ at the slightest provocation and are vicious foodies. Bengali’s are always indebted to Sardarji’s for introducing them to Lassi and Tandoori Chicken, both greatly loved by the bong community in general. It was a point of reverence that Punabi’s used both their hands to eat their roti and chicken, while the Bong tried to conquer the leg piece with their frail  literary fingers.

They used to be mostly seen on Bhawanipore area as cabbies, termed as Sardarji. A Sardarji taxi driver was always preferred over a Bengali  or Bihari one, for a late night journey across the city, as they were trusted to be loyal, brave and responsible. At that time the famous Punjabi people used to be sportsman Milkha Singh, writer Khuswant Singh and then President Gyani ‘Jail’ Singh (there is no ‘Z’ in Bengali only J). Milkha Singh was the greatest athlete and Bongs believed once he chased a thief to China without stopping, while the thief got into the serpentine bylanes of Shyambazar. That’s why he was called The Flying Sikh. Bengali’s believed that Punjabi’s take bath only once in a week, that is on Sunday. For some weird reason most popular jokes were always based on Punjabi’s, more particularly Sardarji’s.

I remember a very short one.

[Start of joke] Bengali to Sardarji- Are you relaxing? Sardarji replies- No, I am Milkha Singh. [end of Joke]

The Nepalis

The Nepalis are anyone with Mongoloid features whether from Bhutan, Japan, Sikkim, Phillippines or  Mizoram. The Nepali’s who are employed as doormen with a gun were termed as ‘Gurkha’. Nepali’s were also seen in Chinese restaurants all over the city. Ironically, the real Chinese people of Tangra ( Chinatown of Kolkata) speaks fluent and flawless Bengali. A Nepali would always wear a Gurkha Tupi (cap), carry a  Khukuri and wouldn’t hesitate to bet on their lives to protect the needy. The famous Nepali’s who were admired by the Bengali that time was Danny Dengzongpa and Subhash Ghising. Everyone loved Danny for his role on Lalkuthi (the 1978 Bangla horror film featuring the Song ‘ Tomar Bari Amar bari…Amar bari nei’ sung by  Kishore Kumar) and Ghising because he gave a tough time to Jyoti Basu and the CPM for a long period of time.

The Khottas

Khotta was the nickname of Bihari industrious community. Those days the hand cart pullers and rickshaw pullers used to be Biharis. I believe the term was somewhat derogatory, something like Bhaiya in Mumbai. Khottas consumed large quantities of Khaini and Sattu and wore Lungi. Our parents always taught us , unlike Sardarji’s never address a Khotta as a khotta and we remembered.

The Sahebs

These are the species who Tagore named as Gora (the whites) and not to be confused with the Urdu Sahib. Sahebs were essentially the white-skinned foreigners. American, Europian, Australian, Scandinavian and other members of Caucasian community were qualified to be called as Saheb. But the Japanese, though white skinned would be called a Nepali and not a Saheb. Sahebs had very distinct characteristics. Like Punjabis even they refrained from bathing. They used tissue papers instead of water for maintaining their personal hygiene which was considered as the biggest criteria of being a superior race than Bengalis. Sahebs had red cheeks, golden hair and used to stay at The Grand Hotel.  We used to see imported clothings being sold on the footpath of Esplanade, which people termed as Mora Seheber Jama Kapod which literally means Dead Saheb’s clothing. I think that meant if any Saheb died in Kolkata, their clothing were  stolen and sold at  a price, but I don’t have any research on this. Saheb’s female counterpart the ‘Mem’s were made of wax and used to wear dresses revealing their knees, a rare sight during those days.  The bong babies who were born fair skinned were nicknamed as Saheb. That ’s how Moti Nandy named his character as Saheb in his novel about the footballer, which were later made into a Classic Bengali movie ( with hero as Tapas Pal) and Hindi remake( hero-Anil Kapoor). All black skinned foreigners were called Negro, and none thought it was derogatory at that time; neither they thought one day, a negro would be the president of America.

The Non-Bengalis

All others who don’t fall under above two categories were generalized as non-Bengalis. For example, if a person is from Madhya Pradesh who is neither Madrasi, nor a Saheb would be a non-Bengali. Gujratis, Marathis, Konkanis are all non-Bengalis. Simply, said anyone who is outside Kolkata is a non-Bengali the more distant from Kolkata the greater is the degree of his non-Bengaliness.

Others

Finally, there is this unique species who can’t be categorized in any of the above. Bengali’s call them B********.