A strong smell of garlic and fried onions hit our nostrils as Kumud and I walked into the apartment. Ruby was cooking something spicy in the kitchen. She wore a canary yellow pajama and a blue de'collete' top which displayed her fine tan lines, thanks to California sun. The cut was so low one could almost see her cleavage reaching her navel. With utmost discomfort, I tried to keep my eyes off the sight that would have gandhiji second thoughts. My first days in America always brought a new episode of culture shock.

She brought coffee for us and started speaking to Kumud ignoring my presence. I sat quietly trying not to look at the grand canyon between her silicon valleys and jerked my head from time to time chasing away prurient thoughts. I had a feeling that she was enjoying my almost-no-visible attention.

'Ruby, meet John',said Kumud, 'he just arrived in California few days ago'.

'He met your mom'. he added.

She glanced at me for a second and as if my guy next door looks offended her, she looked back to Kumud and asked , 'How are things in Nepal?'

I cleared my throat and began to speak what most Nepalese do when they are abroad. Bungled system...maoists...declining capital investment and all other things I barely remember now.

'Know what John? I do not like the attitude of Nepalese people' she addressed me for the first time. Very true!!....I honestly did not like her attitude.

'They are so prude, so conservative, so chauvinistic, do not respect emotional and cultural freedom....'she went on ranting. There were other adjectives too which I would not want to pen down. She also told me that returning to Nepal was the last thing in her mind and she had a hispanic beau who had looks that gave Benicio Del Toro run for money.

She worked in a Nepalese artifact store in bay area owned by my aunt and was completely unaware of it. 'Sheetal is a b@#$%' she cursed my dear aunt, ' I am only there cos she is helping me get my green card', she said as if it were a great secret.

My aunt was the humblest woman on earth who in no time would fly to nepal just to put a bhaitika on my dad's forehead. Appalled by her disrespect, I tried to leave and hurriedly handed over a package containing chura, tika and a pair of salwar her mom had sent. I was almost certain she would throw it back at me had she known what was inside.

I walked outside with heavy feet. 'Adios senorita', I said under my breath, I would never see Ruby again. Driving back to santa clara with kumud, I recalled some malcontented nepalese-hating american wannabes in Nepal who were brought up in plethora of affluence. I seriously would not mind them displaying the attitude alike Ruby. But Ruby was raised with humilty in Nepal. All her folks back hom respected moral values as all other middle class people do. She had found a wrong person to pile up her grudges...a proud Nepali. I was wondering why she would want to be at her international best the moment she boarded an aircraft.

I admit things are not right back home, but it does not change ourselves from being what we are does it?

John Galt,

I am critiquing this as a piece of literature, please don't take it personally.

So Ruby likes to wear skimpy clothes at home and show off her titties (maybe she is rebelling against the "middle class moral values" which she finds constraining); so she talks shit about other Nepalis (I do too sometimes with my Nepali friends, about how we are so communal, so quick to judge, etc., which at the end of the day is forgotten, because we remain Nepali regardless; so what?); so Ruby goes out and perhaps sleeps with a Latino hunk (good for her, she follows her heart and displays good taste; perhaps the Nepali guys she went out with were indeed prudes like the narrator, who discretely ogles the silicon valleys but implicitly passes harsh moral judgment against their generous bearer); so Ruby hates her "bitchy" boss (because the owner of the store is the narrator's aunt, his "good" portrayal of her is suspect). No, none of these necessarily make Ruby a wannabe American in my books, or a senorita for that matter.

She is just another Nepali, it seems to me, who is trying to come to terms with her identity and sexuality in a foreign country--not an easy thing, for sure--and perhaps not doing such a hot job of it at the moment. As such, she deserves understanding and compassion, not contempt nor cheap judgment--like the kind our sanctimonious narrator passes on Ruby in his attempt to impose upon her his narrow definition of Nepalipan.

"perhaps the Nepali guys she went out with were indeed prudes like the narrator, who discretely ogles the silicon valleys but implicitly passes harsh moral judgment against their generous bearer);"

You caught him there.:)

guys....the morale of this story is "stick to your convictions"

Kudos to Netazneta. Finally some inquisitive critic in the thread.

I was rather disappointed with almost chauvinistic portrayal of Ruby by John and it's endorsement by so many other posters.

god guys,

I am not a chauvinist....I was merely protraying what I saw...I was offended by her attitude towards nepal and nepalese people...period....I have nothing to do with her get up...refer to my replies to this thread...just wanted to make it interesting....

My anecdote is free to criticism I admit that....but every story does not necessarily depicts what a narrator actually is.

APOLOGIES,

After viewing and reviewing netaznetas critique....I realized that anecdote was purely subjective and should not have been posted at a public website like sajha. Like I said earlier that satire or anecdotes do not necessarily expatiate narrators inner feelings...Ruby and her attire had nothing to do with my thoughts. But here are a few arguments i would like to put forth:

1. Getting terms with sexuality and identity is irrespective of time and place, I would have had a great respect for Ruby if she battled against moral constraints when she was back home. Why does she want to break the glass ceiling only after visiting united states and not before?
2. Ruby going out with a latino guy was purely incidental....I have no concerns over it.
3. You cannot expect yourself to seal your lips and feign a smile when a stranger bitches about your dear ones, you may not retaliate instantly...but the grudge always remains. Moreover, I am not Buddha.
4. I respect women....infact more than anyone I have met so far....and as far as the compassion is concerned...my heart bleeds for young girls who work 24/7 to make both ends meet and pay their tuition...following the hope of having a sucessful career one day, not for the ones who have it all and flaunt it.

Ruby was a kind who made heads turn...she was a kind who walked with stiletto shoes in Rodeo drive to see if Brad Pitt is available for hitchhiking. Not my kind...definitely not my kind....I would go for a nerd with thick glasses working in a library in Johnsboro or Baton Rouge rather than a barbie barmaid in Soho.

John Galt

You misunderstand me. My observations were not about John Galt, the "real" person, they were about the story and the characters therein, one of whom is the narrator (not John Galt the person). In short, I tried to separate the artist from the art, to put it in lofty terms.

Writing is difficult and I recognize and appreciate your effort and your willingness to share it with us, so I don't see any need for apologies. As a matter of fact, I encourage you to write more, get better--otherwise, why would I bother to present my observations, no? Besides, your story has opened up space here for further discussions and is worthy in that regard, at the very least. In that spirit, let me try to answer some of your questions.

(1) Sure, but who is the narrator to decide the "right" time and place for Ruby to grapple with her identity and sexuality? Perhaps being thrust into an alien environment exacerbated, speeded up the process for her?

(21) If so, then why would the narrator (remember, not John Galt) make that snide "senorita" remark, if not to present Ruby as not being Nepali enough?

(3) My point exactly! That is why I said that the narrator's description of the "good" aunt was unreliable.

(4) I am glad that you, John Galt, thinks that way, but getting back to the story, the only thing that Ruby "flaunts" there are her wonderful breasts (if she had everything, she wouldn't be working as a clerk at a job she hates, no?). On second thoughts, maybe she is comfortable with her body and her clothes and it is the prudish narrator (not John Galt) who thinks she is flaunting her stuff?!

cheers to netaznetaz...and john galt either you're jealous or you need to get a life.

I don't think RUBY was any diffrent from what she is now..all that hatred for nepalese is what kept her bottled up out there in Nepal....You're way past your early teens and people talk shit when you date out there..i hate those kind of nepalese too..

as for beechting about your aunt..don't tell me that you don't b**tch about your boss....evrybody does...unfortunatley she happened to be your aunt..oops..otherwise they wud've been best shoppin buddies..you don't understand women at all boy!!

and as for wearing what she was..weren't you the one fantasising you saw her breasts to her navel..damn you men..what's wrong with li'l teasing??

you should adore her for the fact that she's living on her own...and loving it..at least be happy that she is happy the way she is..

my motto for all girls (and guys)iis do the things that you don't regret..and if you have no regrets for what you do..who cares about the devil to come between you and your happiness??? SHHOO SHOO

JUst to add spice to JOHN"S question..

here's my story the week past:

Last Sunday morn...a fortnight i had shut myself fromthe world..no chatting over the net..no going out.no phonecalls.not even attending the New Years party all over two upgrading procedures at my work and my friggin exam....boy i was fed up...

so i went down to the local shop and stop..(shoopin is best way to relive tensions)..so i picked some (tomatoes,chives, shrimp, ginger, raisins, cononut, $8.99)+(sataki mushroom, letuuce, rice wine and uzu dressing, orange and lime zest $12.99).went home doubled on time preparing those shrimp -coconut curry and grilled mushroom salad..and our nepali rice..

tried on a skimpy off shoulder dress (12.99 @ Target)...a pair of oversized sunlasses( $5.99, CVS), slathered some chocalat Fondue cream underneath ($5.99, bath and body works, oon sale), and there he was right on the door..with 14 yellow and peach tulips for 14 days of habernating...........the picnic was awesome on HIS tiny terrace/portico garden and MY LUNCH basket................it worked 14*2 miracles..hahhahhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.......gosh i love my life ( priceless)

i think everyone should do that once in a while so right on guys

Thanks netaz,

This is what I like about sajha, a good criticism, and from excellent writers like you,no one is perfect, and one should always ponder on both sides of a story, you see things that I did not see and vice versa.Just wanted to be a Jay Leno...cared least it could backfire. Yes, John Galt loves writing stories....and it has nothing to do with being prude or not. That was a simple anecdote about what a young Nepali feels getting in terms of fast times and ambience of United States and it has little to do with me.

Keep it coming....shall meet you again in next thread I might create....Thanks again.

Hushpuppy,

When it comes to criticism, you might need a lesson or two from netazneta....see the way he brings all his words together. You make me feel like a lecherous bum who ogles at every feminine object. Go to my posting once again...I have described her attire and things I saw...I never criticized about what she wore. I was only disgruntled over her attitude pertaining to Nepali people, that was the bottomline.Unfortunately all of you guys seem to take note of petty details than what I actually wanted to say. You would feel the same at the first place if I thought you were a non-entity or perhaps yet another punk from dumbville sipping my coffee and sitting in my couch and I cannot wait to get rid of you.

I have a different way of relieving my tension...I run around a narrow trail during the weekends, a whiff of southern breeze soothes my soul. While running, I think about making such narrow trail in outskirts in Kathmandu, perhaps it would encompass a park, where old people come running in the morning, followed by teenagers, perhaps they would exchange some thoughts, beautiful thoughts, non - MATERIALISTIC thoughts. Perhaps they would try thinking about creating their own Atlantis, their own utopian world where everything is impeccable...no politics, no jealousy, no prejudice, no enmity, no adversity, no drudgery. I feel it is a better bet than making a pina colada and strawberry shortcake. This is where I GET SOME LIFE.

Yes, i do not understand women unless they are Mother Teresa, Parijat, Aruna Lama, Indira gandhi, Waheeda Rahman, Nutan, Joan of Arc et al. I try to imitate them sometimes, but often fail, least I could do is send 25 dollars out of my monthly stipend to a result-oriented NGO in Nepal, to makes things better, to some extent. I find myself at complete loss when I see beautiful women ( men too) gyrating at chingy's number in the Suburban night club of New York city especially when their GPA cries blue murder demanding more attention.

If I sound prudish...then so be it....this is my happiness....and like you said hushpuppy....I try to keep away the demons that come between us.

good for you johnny dear be li'l more specific aiiit next time and cheers to life!!!