vii. The final cut ************** The moments we most cherish in life goes by the fastest of all. The last few weeks have whizzed by without any warning. I have probably made enough memories to write stories for the next ten years but not all stories can be expressed in words. I think sometimes you have to experience the stories yourself, and cherish them within. At the same time, writing is like a double edged sword. If it doesn't suit the needs of the reader or is contrary to his/her dogmatic opinion, it can be torn apart and battered around the park like the australian bowlers have suffered this summer from Pieterson and Flintoff.(i'll keep my fingers crossed to see England triumph in Ashes) Anyways, I should confess the highlight of my trip has been the reunion of friends from school. It is almost unimaginable to see how one has transformed in the last 8 years from school days. From CEO's of internet company, young industrialists, Psychedelic DJ's, life guard, musicians to doctors, engineers, bankers, accountants, music video director, models, and even few in Rehab--we were a class of our own. I had many close friends in campus and colleges, but there's something about friends from school that sets them apart. Even if you didn't get along with most of them, there are so many little things that everybody can relate to. As the evening wore into the night catching up with old friends and fond memories, one of the guys asked me if I had seen nightlife in KTM. I confessed to him I hadn't and he announced it in front of everyone in full fervor as if it were a sardarji joke. It was only a matter of time when ten of us strayed around Yak n Yeti Hotel. Little did I know it was one of those partynepal parties, so it was natural to have some butterflies. The boombox blasted from inside with the happening numbers of indian and english songs reminscent of many clubs of US. We were hesitant because it was already way into the night and many were beginning to leave and the entry fee was a whooping 800 rupees. It so happened one of the guys in our group was doing his internship in Army Hospital. All he needed to do was show his ID at the entrance and say he had few friends with him, rest as they say was history. Inside, the atmosphere was electric with ear deafening music and it seemed every youngster of KTM was jampacked for this fiesta. I ran into many old and new friends, and I felt right at home even in the dance floor that begged for some space. Above all, my friend's sister, the sweetest gal I've met in KTM, kept me company. I almost began to chuckle looking around--NO BLACKS in a dance club for a change. Only Nepalis--beautiful ones. I had imagined that this time around, I would definitely make my way to pokhara. Well it was not to be, and I'll always regret for not being able to expand my horizon beyond KTM. At the same time, during these troubled times, it feels very uneasy to put family through undue anxiety. However, I fulfilled two of my utmost desires in KTM -- A day in Godavari and a visit to an old old teacher. After this, I felt complete and my mind gained peace.Talking about peace, I have never slept so peacefully in the last six years than I have in the last month. No insomnia, no violent dreams--just peaceful sleep everynight. What could one ask for in life to be able to go to bed everynight and fall asleep instantly? Isn't that satisfaction everyone seeks in life. I'd never know. The only dream I can remember was other day taking an afternoon nap when I saw people of everest momo chasing me down with hot momos . Perhaps, its my guilt that I have eaten in naan sekwa center but not in everest. So there it is--handigaon chronicles is not infinite. I feel pretty weak today, not physically. I don't know if i am mentally prepared to come back. It'll take some time to realize that birds won't be chirping in the morning anymore nor will aromatic tea make its way to my bedside. There won't be delicious cooked food in the kitchen in the morning and evening, nor will I run into long lost friends walking down the street.I just hope I won't succumb after sometime participating in the blaming game alongside scholars. If you ask me what has been the most important thing for me returning home besides realizing the importance of family, relatives and REAL friends, I'd say I have found myself here. It has made me realize who I really am, where I come from, and above all in what role do I fit in this picture. Kathmandu is a very unique city. I have now realized there are many different versions of KTM for many different people. It all depends what you see, what you ignore, and what you perceive. There are thousand reasons on why you shouldn't stay here, and there are thousand good reasons on why one should settle abroad, but for me, there's just one reason I should be here--Kathmandu is my home. I disagree with folks who vehemently say home is where the heart is. Common now, How can there be an alternative to home?