Disclaimer: This
is not a fictitious story by any means so any resemblance to any person living
or dead is not coincidental but purely intentional. I believe in freedom of
choice so reader discretion is not mandatory, however, it is strictly advised.
The story happens to portray certain stereotypes and prejudices prevalent in
our society and it doesn’t seek to vindicate them but feel free to call me
names if you feel otherwise. Some of you readers may find parts of the content
and language spoken by the characters (which BTW is my lousy attempt to give a
realistic feel to the characters and/or events) explicit, R-rated, or you-name-it
and hence discomforting or offensive to your taste in which case you are most welcome
to bash me or sue me (if you can that is)
The Reunion: A Tale
of Friendship, Love, Ambition, Betrayal and Marriage
Part 1- The American Dream
“Ridiculously scary!”
Biplav grumbled, concluding his remarks on arranged marriage as he took a sip
of Pina Colada--his favorite cocktail—from his goblet in a moderately upscale
bar in the Bleecker street of New York City’s Manhattan borough.
“The idea of spending life with the person whom you hardly
met and interacted with for few weeks is a perfect recipe for disaster. That’s
plain gambling!” He had said earlier in response to Suraj’s inquiry. Suraj, his
confidante--who was seated beside him--had asked him if he was going to get
married when Biplav mentioned about his plans to visit his family in Nepal in a few months
time. Knowing he was single, his age which was ripe enough for marriage, his
career which was stable and peaking and his mom who was more excited than
obliged to marry off the youngest child, Suraj was almost certain that Biplav
was on the verge of tying the nuptial knot notwithstanding
his disdain for the concept behind arranged marriage.
“I would rather choose to go broke in Vegas. Not that I
haven’t.” Biplav had burst into a thunderous laughter before continuing: “Well,
not everyday is Sunday now, is it? I might win one of these lucrative days to
make up for the loss. But risk my whole life with the one way ticket to the
disastrous destiny of arranged marriage? Hell no dude! Even the thought of it
is scary!”
“I agree Bips!” Ricky nodded from the opposite side of the
table giving a firm approval to Biplav’s view as he held his knife in his right
hand and cut a piece of steak in his plate with some struggle. He held his fork
in his left hand, stomped it into the piece and continued while chewing and
savoring the juicy piece:“Fu*kin aasom!” He
relished his order. “It’s a tough call, ain’t it? Say YES and open your fu*kin door for a fu*kin stranger and live with the fu*ker for your entire fu**in
life? Must be hard for chicks, but it’s harder for us men. For fu*k’s sake, tell me something which is
more safe and exciting, fu*kers!” He tried
hard to emulate the local dialect.
“Oye! Sexist! Ali badi bhayo” Abin, the fourth guy in the
group, raised his eyebrows partly in amusement and partly in embarrassment at
Ricky’s verbal diarrhoea. He was seated beside Ricky.
It was a rejuvenating re-union of four friends, who were
lost in the hustle and bustle of busy, hectic life that America offers. Suraj had flown the
very evening from Kansas City
to join his once very near and dear high school batch-mates. Ricky had driven the
day before from Fairfax, Virginia,
his hometown and Abin had flown cross-country from San Jose, California
a couple of days back. They were staying at Biplav’s home in New York City.
The plan was laid out by Biplav--the tall and lanky class
monitor and the then captain of their high school basketball team. He had
initiated the plan a month ago by sending out a group email for invitation to
all his batch-mates residing in the US
and Canada.
He got nine responses, three of which were negative for various reasons and
from the remaining six senders who responded positively; two had backed out about
a week before the meeting citing urgency in their work. The four who were
meeting that evening were best of the buddies during their good old high school
days. Ever since they graduated from high school, they had been living in
separate cities and countries away from each other. After coming to the US, they
would often talk over the phone, sometimes do conference call and put the third
or at times fourth as well on the line and reminisce good
old time they had once spent together. When tied down by work and other
personal stuffs; they wouldn’t call for weeks or sometimes even months! It was
weird but that is how life of most immigrant workers in the US is like. Life takes few leaps forward
towards progression and blows sideways towards uncertainty. You are viewed as a
microscopic specimen that is constantly monitored and analyzed. Any adverse
mutation is not tolerated. Either perform or perish. Prove your ability for
what it’s worth and maintain your efficiency without letting it to plummet or
saturate over time. Sometimes 24 hours goes by in a blink only to leave you
begging for more. You tend to confine yourself within the 270 degrees between eight
and five of your daily clock. The remaining 90 degrees, you assign to your
personal space and privacy--something which becomes grossly important, the more
you stay in the monotony. Life moves on and you suddenly realize that years
have got behind you. You tend to become apathetic to your own people you
remained out of touch with for several years.
The story of these four friends was not an
exception. They were living in the similar monotony until one fine day, they
happened to take a nostalgic ride while recalling the fine days they had once spent
together being carefree and most of the time, careless. The ride got overwhelmingly
emotional which made them mawkishly maudlin. And hence the decision was made.
“Enough is enough,
let’s all meet…soon!” They unanimously decided over the phone.
They were all excited about the reunion and for every good
reason. Barring few occasions when two of the four had met at a place or one
had come to visit the other for a day or two, all four hadn’t met together in
the US until the sun of the glorifying old days had finally chosen to shine for
them for the first time in an alley of New York City that evening. The
excitement was only growing with time.
“But Bips, even in arranged marriage, you have the liberty
of knowing the person close enough before you make the big final decision. It’s
in your hand. You can rest the case and back out if you feel it’s hard to live
life with those pair of titties.”
Abin gleefully rebutted Biplav’s view. He put a wide grin on his face while
holding his glass that was filled with White Zinfandel. He looked at his glass
amorously and said “Doesn’t take long to see if there’s a match” and smiled
charmingly. “It took me only a month to make up my mind for Aakriti and I can
confidently say I couldn’t have made a better decision in my life. If I had met
her 10 years back or 50 years later, I would have still chosen her” He chuckled.
Abin was the only married guy in the group. He was married
to Aakriti for fifteen months but his honeymoon phase was far from over. It was
an arranged marriage and he had known her for two months prior to that. Although
Aakriti couldn’t make it to the New
York City, she was everywhere for Abin: from his wallet
to cell phone, ipod to key ring. In his heart. In his mind. In his soul.
“You’re fu*ked up
myan, your life is doomed if you hafta
spend the darn life with jus one fu*kin person. Must be fu*kin boring as hell. Know what I’m
saying, mothafu*kers?” Ricky grunted adding
his follow up comment on marriage and followed it by his signature hysterical
laughter. Dressed in an inflated-balloon-like jeans that seemed like almost
about to leave his waist anytime, a long flabby black t-shirt that had his favorite
word ‘Fabolous’ printed on its front and
a bling-bling around his neck, Ricky
was dressed for the occasion--dressed to impress some local lass.
“O kale, chup! Mukhma pachkaidinchu ahile ani” Abin gulped
the last few ounces of the drink from his glass, banged the glass on the table
and rolled his wrist, faking anger at Ricky.
“Fu*k you Abina!
Zin piyera furti herna yesko, sissy!” Ricky slammed his beer bottle upon the
table staring at Abin. He then burst into laughter. Biplav and Suraj started
laughing as well. Their laughter resonated producing a bigger laughter that drew
attention of few patrons around them for a while.
“I have quit drinking beer” Abin murmured and grabbed a
tissue and wiped his mouth in a flash.
“So have I” Biplav sighed as he leant against the back of
his chair and started playing drum on his tummy with his both hands.
---------------
Part 2- Australia: An Ambitious Journey
Biplav hadn’t changed much looks-wise, barring few pounds of
flesh that he had managed to put on over the last few years. Fairly tall with
wheatish skin complexion, he had high cheek bones, long nose and big brown
eyes. He looked more attractive than he was in his high-school days. Biplav was
a computer science graduate from a university in Queensland,
Australia and working as a
Software Engineer in a Wealth Management Firm in Manhattan, New York.
He had moved to the US two
years ago after having bagged the lifetime opportunity to work with the New York based company that
offered him a handsome salary and sponsorship for his H1 with a promise to file
for his Green Card by the end of his first year on board. He used to work as an
IT consultant in a Law Firm in Sydney
before moving to what is popularly known as “the land of opportunity”. From career
perspective, it was a no-brainer for him to decide on quitting his mediocre
former job to take this alluring offer from Uncle Sam. What was difficult
though was to leave his girl friend Rachita, who he had known for more than a
year in Australia.
---------------
“It takes time to know a person closely and when you do, you
may have other opinion about that person. Your new derivations might not be
coherent with the first few impressions you had about that person” Biplav
articulated his views.
“So you think I am a different person from what you had
thought I was?” Abin winked at Biplav as he took out a pack of Parliament from his pocket.
“O baadar! You are not allowed to smoke here. Can’t do that
in public places! Aakriti sanga kura garaidiu?” Ricky put his hand over Abin’s
that held the pack.
“I am talking about girls in particular since the context of
our talk is marriage.” Biplav continued. “Don’t want to sound sexist but I somehow
find girls shallow and fickle-minded. Half of them don’t even have
perspectives. I have never understood them and now I would not want to either.
I guess I have found my niche and I am happy being single” He sighed holding
his goblet on his hand and kept staring at it.
---------------
Rachita was a first year student of Criminal Justice at a Law
school in Sydney
when Biplav had first met with her. He had bumped into her for the first time
in Dashain Party organized by the Nepalese association of Sydney. This was when he had just moved to Sydney from Queensland
to start his first job right after his graduation. She was fresh off the boat
having moved to Sydney from Nepal a couple
of months ago to pursue her studies. Rachita was undeniably the prettiest of
the girls in the party for Biplav--her smile being the highlight of her
features. When he caught her first sight, he got a vibe he had never gotten
from any other girls he had met until then. He could literally kill to see a
glimpse of anyone smile like she did.
“Hi! I thought you were quite attractive until you smiled.”
Biplav had initiated the conversation with a charming smile on his face.
“Huh? Do I know you?” Rachita was caught by surprise.
“Not until this moment. I am Biplav” He had extended his
hand towards her.
“Rachita” He had shaken hers with his.
“Nice to meet you”
“Nice to meet you too”
Being new to the place, both Rachita and Biplav didn’t have a
whole lot of friends in Sydney
to hang out with, let alone close ones to rely on in thick and thin. They had
clicked in no time and their chemistry was perfect, or so they had thought.
Amid loneliness, they could only find each other’s presence more compelling
than anything else. It gave them reason to believe in each other.
Humans are gregarious species. Much of our togetherness at a
superficial level has to do with our reluctance or inability to be alone. Some
people find solitude in loneliness. Solitude feels very different from
loneliness. Loneliness is the pain of being alone while solitude is the glory
of being alone. There is gentleness and a quiet sense of contentment about
solitude which enables us to get engaged in a wide range of activities like
reading, listening to music, musing, playing, writing and a host of other
hobbies—if you are content with it that is. But it is hard to get into hobbies and
find solace in them first off at a new place. Sydney was a new environment for Biplav and more
so for Rachita. Much of their aloneness was attributed to loneliness than
solitude and the fear of being lonely has bound them together in a quick time. They
would walk in Luna
Park in the evenings and
spend hours talking about their families, friends, ambitions, hobbies and their
outlooks towards life in general. On weekends, they would go to movies or drive
down to Bondi beach and walk together along the shore. He would take out his cigarette
pack from his pocket but before he could light on the cigarette, she would
shout at him—sometimes even threaten to not speak with him anymore, if he did
not quit smoking. She abhorred smokers, her own father being one of them and
last thing Biplav wanted was to register him in her hate-list. He would calmly
put the cigarette back in the pack and into his pocket. It happened several
times but he would still keep trying to convince her and make her accept
him as he was rather than lying about his habits she didn’t appreciate or
entertain.
Biplav was aggressively ambitious while Richita was more spiritual and
lackadaisical. All she wanted in her life was mental peace and happiness—happiness
that is inexpensive yet priceless. She never craved for big bungalows, fancy
cars and big bank balance while Biplav’s dream was as big as owning few islands
in the Caribbean. He had his plans laid out
for his career and he wanted to see himself on the pedestal of a rich and
famous guy one day. Money meant a lot to him. More than to satiate his materialistic
needs, he needed financial success to make his people hear loud and clear: “Look,
I achieved what I wanted to. I ain’t a loser”
Biplav had spent his childhood in Kathmandu
as the youngest child in his family with his elders: mom, maternal grandmom, a
brother and a sister. His father died when he was barely seven. His mom--a teacher in a private school in Kathmandu--had
to quit her job and take over the business set by her husband when she was in
her early thirties. Biplav’s father had opened a trekking and travel agency in
Chhetrapati with the help of loan from Nepal Bank Limited two years before his untimely
demise. The company was running fairly decently before he died on a fateful day
when his motorbike collided head-on with a speeding truck in Pulchowk. His mom
was a tough woman. She took the responsibility of the business solely by
herself on her shoulders and made sure her kids would not miss their father
much. Her widow mom--Biplav’s grandmom--was in her fifties and still young
enough to take care of her grandkids when their mom would not be around. First
few years were hard for Biplav’s mom as being a widow at a tender age was never
easy, especially in Kathmandu of the late
eighties. People in their neighborhood would speculate and make myriad stories
about her illicit affair with other male workers in the company and in
particular with the assistant manager—Arjun. Arjun often used to come and pick
Biplav’s mom to work and drop her home after work. Being the thick-skinned
person that she was, the baseless rumors and false accusations coming from the
prejudiced society would not bother her much although at times she would find
herself in the depth of despair for having to live in the society that never understood
what it is like being a single working mother of three. She hated being a part
of the very society. The hatred grew stronger with time and she deliberately
isolated herself and her family from the surroundings. Her prejudice against
the prejudiced society cost her some good friends and genuine well-wishers in
the neighborhood.
Biplav’s mom badly wanted to protect her kids from the dark
shades of the society. “You are going abroad to study once you are done with
your high school” She used to tell her kids. Things started to roll in her
favor and the business started to turn quite lucrative after a couple of years.
Only for few years though. A sudden slack occurred once Maoists insurgency eclipsed
the bright tourism sector of Nepal in the late-nineties. The company was burdened under massive debt. To ease
the colossal financial pressure, lands were sold and house mortgaged. Biplav
had just graduated from his high school and was planning to go abroad for
further studies but due to the unexpected financial constraints, he had to
almost give up his plan and get enrolled in a local school if it was not for
his Grandmom's contribution. Her grandmom had a piece of land in Gadavari that came in handy
at the time of crisis. The land was sold at a good price to a civil engineer working
for ICIMOD and that helped Biplav live his dream.
Two months later, he landed in the Cairns
International Airport
in Queensland, Australia with two medium size suit-cases
in his hands, tuition cost for the first semester in his pocket, lots of hope
and a big dream on his mind. When he got off the plane and took the first
breathe of fresh air in the land
of Kangaroos, he looked
around and said to himself, “One day, I am gonna rule this place”
---------------
Everyone needs a company of somebody in a new place to help
them leave their memory of the past aside and move on with the new episode of
life. And if you connect well with the very first person you meet in a new
place, new environment; chances are, you will end up being really close to that
person in a very short span of time. However, as time goes by, you discover
more about the place; meet with new faces and the strength of the connection
with that very first person gets weaker and more vulnerable.
Everything between Biplav and Rachita happened so fast that
they didn’t feel the need of proposing or accepting the proposal. For the first
few days, she was in a denial of her attraction towards him although she knew
she admired him as a person. Biplav had always liked her since he first saw her
in the party and by the end of the first week, he had become really confident
about her--so much that he had thought she was going to be his wife. Not to be!
Weeks had gone by. One day they were coming back home from Pitt
Street Mall after almost a day-long shopping. Before dropping her off at the
main gate of her dormitory, Biplav told her that he needed to go to Melbourne the following
week for a two-weeks training on System Administration. She was furious for he
didn’t say anything about it all day when they were together; however, she tried
to veil her anger with smile. It had suddenly stroke in her mind that she would
sorely miss him. Not as much as she actually did, when he was gone.
Those two weeks made her realize that he had become an integral
part of her life. Her cell phone wouldn’t ring as much as it used to. She did
not have car and there was no one who would take her outside to divert her
minds off of him. He had left a vacuum in her surroundings and she was gasping
for fresh air. There was no excitement in the air. All of a sudden, Sydney seemed like a
prison to her and wary thoughts about her family started to encroach on her
mind, continuously. She had never felt as much homesick as she did during those
two weeks. She tried to listen to some loud music but it would only worsen her
melancholy. In utter despair, she locked herself in her bedroom and thrashed
herself on her bed. She covered her mouth with the pillow and cried for a long
time. The sound of her crying reverberated across the walls of the room and it
felt like all the stuffs in her room were shedding tears as well at her agony.
When Biplav came back from the trip, they became more close
to each other.
“I missed you a lot” She had said in his arms.
“Oh really? I did not a bit” He had grinned and she had
jabbed her fist gently into his chest. He put his hands over her shoulders and
dragged her closer. When he had come closer to her face and tilted his head a
bit, she had already shut her eyes and begun to breathe harder. He kept looking
at her sensual face for a while, braced himself and very gently touched her
delectable lips with his. The temptation grew even stronger with the tactile
sensation. He kept playing with them until she started to respond. Both felt and
played with each other while the warm soggy air flew through their mouth and
they could feel its heat and dampness. Time just stood still.
---------------
“You cannot say you’re not trying to sound sexist when in
fact you are Bips.” Suraj gave a stern look at Biplav. “It depends on
individuals. It’s not that only girls are shallow by nature. It has more to do
with maturity and understanding and the level varies from person to person. And
even with mature, understanding people, sh*t
happens! Time is the greatest of all actors. It dictates its term on every
individual.”
“Yeah time is powerful. It pauses and gives you everything
in one single moment and just when you think you are getting stronger, it bends
you on your knees” Biplav looked at Suraj and sported an askew grin.
---------------
Time flew by. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. The
company Biplav was working in went through a financial crunch which forced them
to lay off 20 percent of their employees. Biplav survived the tumult but had to
work doubly hard to save his job. He didn’t get much time thereafter to call
and talk with Rachita, let alone hang out with her. A week later, more layoffs.
When Biplav got desperate to prove his worth, he started putting on few hours on Saturdays and
most of Sundays for his work.
Rachita started to get busier as well with her studies. It
was her all important first year and she needed to start off well with good grades
to get things going for her in the country which was not hers by birth. Assignments,
projects, tests, midterms and finals for five different courses kept her on her
toes. Moreover, she had to work for 20 hours in the library to buy breads to
eat. During the last two weeks of finals, she would stay late in the library to
study. There was a Brit, her classmate, who would help her if she had any questions
or stuffs to be understood. The two would combine study for hours in the library
or in his off-campus apartment about ten minutes walk from the campus.
When the semester was over, she was much relieved. Biplav
was still occupied by his work though. During the whole month-long semester
break, she could meet with him just three times for dinner and that was that. One
evening when Biplav went to jog in Centennial
Park, he saw Rachita with
the British guy. Their body language was quite suggestive of their intimacy. Biplav
wanted to save himself from the disgrace of having them see him. He took off
his bandana that he was wearing over his head and slyly covered his face with
it while pretending to wipe his sweat off. He changed his route, bypassing
their path, and came back home much faster than usual. He realized that he had
run faster. Soon after coming home, he went to his balcony and lit a cigarette.
He never used to smoke right after jogging. The day was an exception. He then
took a cold shower and went to bed without having dinner. He never bothered to
ask Rachita about the guy.
Before Rachita and Biplav could sit together, think about
their situation and plan for their future, her second semester had already
started. It started and ended in a flash and her relationship with Biplav could
not still blossom. Biplav always wanted a more stable career so he started
applying for jobs in other parts of the world—US being his first preference. Even
after being together for months, Biplav and Rachita were not sure of where
destiny would lead them to. The fourteen-month-long relationship, which had already
gone through intermittent periods of dips, went through the real test when
Biplav had to decide on moving to the US leaving Rachita down under.
He chose his shining career over his uncertain destiny of love.
Soon after coming to the US, he used to call Rachita on her
phone thrice a week—twice during weekends. The vibe and the interest got reduced
with time and distance and so did the frequency of calls. By the end of his
fourth month in the US,
he had stopped calling her completely. She had sent an online card the
following month to wish him on his first birthday in America which he did not care to
respond to. Three days later, he sent a short email to her: “It baffles me to
realize that we could not be true soul-mates; we were together because we both
were alone. I don’t know if I will get another Rachita, and even if I do
whether I want to have her in my life, but you surely will get several Biplavs whom
you need variably. All the best”
He did not receive its answer. After a month, he deleted the
card she had sent and all emails and the folder named ‘Rachi’. He also
deleted her contacts from his cell, blocked and later deleted her name from his
MSN and AIM buddy list. He also dumped all CDs which had songs that reminded
him of Rachita. The pullover which Rachita had given her as a gift in his
birthday, he donated to a homeless in Bronx.
Anything and everything that reminded him of her went to the dumpster.
---------------
Biplav’s family in Nepal was aggressively in pursuit
of a suitable bride for him. His mom had a list of potential candidates ready
for him to have a look at. His sister-in-law, wife of his brother, wanted him
to initiate talk with her first cousin. His married sister wanted him to touch
base with the girl who was a distant relative of her husband. Biplav would turn
a cold shoulder to each everytime they asked him about it when he talked to
them over the phone. “Hya…mero biheko,
hajurrharule chinta linu pardaina” He would tell them and divert the topic
to something else. Deep inside his mind,
he had decided “Career first. There’s so much to be done.”
---------------
Part 3- Ethics and Ambition
Suraj had brought another round of drinks from the counter. “It’s
important to know the person fully before you commit” He said as he placed the
order on the table and continued “You need some time but then quality is more
important than quantity. It’s imperative that you spend quality time with the
person to see if you can connect with each other. Could be days, weeks, months
or even years for some”
“Oh you will know it the moment you see her. Her mere
presence is enough. It gives some indication. It sends forth some signal and
you will be able to decode it right away, if there’s a match.” Abin was all
smiles.
”Yeah, I know signals. It could be a sound. Like some music will start playing
in the background. Ek ladki ko dekha to
aisa laga or something of that sort…right Abina?” Ricky tested Abin’s
temparament.
Biplav nodded his head in silent amazement. “Khai..but I seriously
think there is more to life than marriage, wife and kids. These are just mere
distractions. People tend to become emotional fools for some odd reason. I
don’t see the need of anyone in life if you are self-sufficient. You get more
satisfaction when you are able get your things done solely by yourself” He
said.
“No but we are social animals Bips. Everybody needs someone
at some point. It’s just a matter of ‘when’. Life is incomplete without that
special someone” Abin said clasping his hands together.
“What are friends for then?” Biplav took some more sips of
his drink.
“We are just friends Bips. We understand each other but we
have our own priorities and career.” Suraj said “Our lines are different and
they don’t cross! It took us six years to get together. Don’t know when we will
get another chance to meet again. Of course we will be there for each other in
case of urgencies. But we can’t always be there forever. Life’s unpredictable. No
one can guarantee where it will take us tomorrow!” He continued in his pensive
disposition.
---------------
Suraj was a Biomedical Engineering major, working as a Part-time
Engineer in the Support Team for a Medical Institution in Kansas
City and also continuing with ambitious projects as a Part-time
Graduate Student at a Graduate school of
Engineering in Kansas. A good couple of inches shorter and much
fairer and chubbier than Biplav, Suraj was mostly reticent and pensive by
nature. He wouldn’t talk much but would not shy away from opining either when
he thought his inputs had some weight or if they could give new dimensions to
the topic under discussion. He was a man of principles and high ambitions but
his ambitions would not come in the way of his belief on what is ethically right. He knew he did not have a big appetite for financial success—not at least
for a good number of upcoming years in his career. “Don’t worry about money,
fame and success. The most important thing in life is to be a good human being;
and if you are one, everything else that you crave for will follow” His father used
to tell him often and that had meant a lot to the obedient son. The sacrosanct
image of his father--who stood by his principles throughout his life and made a
decent living for his family literally from scratch and entirely by himself--had
rubbed off on him since his early childhood.
Suraj loved challenges in his life and would not ever chicken
out from making decisions—however big or difficult they might be—if he knew
they could potentially lead him through the path of success and satisfaction.
He would not think twice on opting for the most difficult route from the given
options if he was sure it would make him successful and different from most of
others. When offered an enticing package of promotion to the full time Chief Engineer
position of the branch and that too in the very first year of his service, he
had happily declined the offer and chosen to remain part time so that he could
continue with his graduate study for a PhD. Many of his peers thought it was a
blatant stupidity in his part to decline the exciting offer considering he was
just a starter. Some thought perhaps he was looking to catch a bigger fish. Nobody
understood him better than he himself. Suraj did not want to confine himself
within an eight to five job that would repeatedly ask him to do the same stuff over
and over again. He felt he had more to contribute to the society being a
researcher which would allow him to do things on his own than being just a mere
user of some already designed application that had myriad limitations. He wanted
to make his own robot than being a manipulative robot of someone.
Few of his batch-mates in school used to think Suraj was too
stubborn and too disciplined to be realistic or pragmatic. It is not difficult to
live a thoroughly disciplined life to people for whom disciplinary measure is a
part of their innate nature. Suraj did not choose to be a man of principles, he
was like that. When things, be them skills or thoughts, come to people
naturally, they deliver and make them look easy for others who may have hard
time understanding the process. Suraj would not do anything that was deemed
inappropriate by his rationales. He was clear of what he wanted to achieve in
his life and would not leave any stone unturned from his side in getting things
done. To those who knew him closely, Suraj epitomized a quintessential figure
of class and principle but his taciturnity would often alienate him in social
gatherings. Nothing about himself ticked him off more than being socially
passive, if not inept.
Suraj was living with his girl friend, Jessica, a Political
Science Major, who hailed from Little Rock, Arkansas and who went to the same school in Kansas that he did for
his undergrad. Jessica’s father was an active democrat and an ardent fan of
Bill Clinton. He had helped the former President with his campaigning in Arkansas in the 1996 presidential
election. Being a Minor in Political Science, Suraj had to take few courses in the
field. He had taken an introductory course in the second semester of his
freshman year and that’s when he first came to know about Jessica. Suraj was
smart and open-minded and Jessica was friendly and liberal. She was a bit shy
to start with and he was totally diffident in her presence. It took her few
meetings to open him up and when he acquiesced himself to her charms, they
became good friends. She would often tease him saying, “Nipply (Nepali) man”
and he would just smile and blush. Suraj was too self-effacing to respond to
her romantic advancements but no matter how meek he might appear, he was
endowed with same self-confidence that she had, perhaps even more. For him,
however, that confidence was buried deep inside. A given person with high
self-esteem may be outwardly self-promoting and ostentatious or may be outwardly
very calm and modest. Suraj was one of the latter kinds.
The duo would often discuss comparative government, labor
theories of value by Adam Smith or Alfred’s Marshall’s marginal utility and other broad
topics for hours. They had agreed to work together for the final project for
the class and before the semester was over, they were more than just friends. She
always wanted stability and peace of mind in her relationship and Suraj could
provide her both. They graduated and attended the convocation ceremony
together. He hugged and kissed her in public for the first time after the
ceremony. Their friends had taken pictures of it--one of which was framed and
hung on the wall of their living room. He started his work immediately after
graduation and his graduate school the following year while she settled with
the job of an Office Administrator in a Limited Liability Company in Kansas City.
Suraj was skeptical about disclosing his relationship with
Jessica to his parents. He was not sure of how they would react after knowing
their only son was going to marry a white girl. He wanted to give Jessica enough
exposure to Nepalese culture before he could introduce her to his parents. He
had taught her about his religion, festivities and the patriarchal model of
Nepalese society. Jessica was understanding and a good learner. She had also written
a paper in Maoists Insurgency in Nepal
for one of her classes and the research had helped her to know more about Nepal and
Nepalese culture and the people and their traditions. Within a year, she had
learnt how to wear saris, how to greet Nepali people--especially the elders.
She also learnt about major festivals and the importance of Dashain, Tihar, Teej, Holi, Lhosar and Janai Purnima. He had taught her most frequently used Nepali
words and phrases: “Namaste’, “Hajurlai sanchai chha?” “Basnuns na”, “Ke khane?” and Nepali names for foods and drinks: ‘Bhuja’, ‘Dal’, ‘Tarkari’ ‘Pani’, ‘Chiya’ and the likes. She could pronounce most of them with great
ease and some of them with some difficulty in her peculiar southern accent
which Suraj found irresistibly cute and at times weirdly funny. She
would make flash cards with Nepali words written on one side and their English
translations on the other and learn them by heart whenever she got time and interest.
Sometimes, Suraj would himself ask her randomly from the deck of cards and she
would get a brownie for each correct answer. One brownie was equivalent to a
kiss which he would furtively implant on her cheeks. If she got her answer
incorrect, he would take the brownie instead from her. Sometimes he would
deliberately declare her answers incorrect for imperfect pronunciations and
other funny interpretations just to irritate poor Jessica. She would pick a
pillow-fight and he would reciprocate by trying to stop her. Soon the fight
would turn into physical intimacy and when she would submit herself to him, they would
make passionate love with each other. She would then put her head on his chest and both
would fall asleep quietly and peacefully.
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(Rest follows in the next post)
Last edited: 21-Mar-08 08:59 AM
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(at least biweekly
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