'I was very pleased with myself and started humming the classic by Bachhu Kailash- Jeneli Raat ma Dil Kholi Dohori gauna mann lagyo Yo thau ma namarne pirati gasna mann lagyo. By the time, I reached my home I had sang that song as many as six times. I knew all the words. ' Now contd. from above: Dashain holidays ended without another meeting with Sabi. I was busy seeing my Kin in the villages and she was probably engaged on her studies. She used to come to my home frequently when I was still at school. But she stopped after she and my brother had an infantile argument in their class one time. (They were classmates). One of her brother-in-laws by a far relation had died in a road accident and she was describing the incident with her group of friends on that day. My brother reportedly intruded in the middle of the conversation and without knowing what was going on, he poked at her saying that the earth was lighter after a man ceased. She was furious and immediately responded that it would be even lighter if Sajal died. And that was enough for the two to start a vehement altercation. The quarrel ended with exchange of bitter words that included warnings about not coming to one another?s home again. They had a stiff competition in class about standing first and every now and then a sort of na?ve hostility erupted between them. Most of the times, it was Sabi who came up with flying colours. Later some days, they both apologised to each other and came to terms but would not venture to step into another?s doors first. Egos mattered. The next day my practical classes would start so I had to leave my home with a heavy heart. My mum woke up early in the morning and so did I. She cooked some rice in ghee and bhatta ko jhol and mulako chatni (parsnips pickle) while I took bath in the warm hand - pump water. From tomorrow, I would have to shower on the chilling water of winter Kathmandu. My stuffs were already packed but mum insisted to put some dried vegetables and snacks in my bag and it became a donkey?s load. My brother helped me to carry it to the road. My dad handed me five one thousand rupees notes and some smaller changes. That was my money for the next two months in Kathmandu. Then there was my mum swiftly coming towards me with few green and white notes wrapped in her small hand. ? Put these with you and buy fruits for yourself?, she said with a broken tone. ?Hya aama pairdaina k? (leave it mom, I don?t need it.) ?Raakh na raakh, aamale deko khurukka? (just put it what mom?s giving) ?maamu malai dinus, tellai badhi hunchha re? (mum, give it to me he will have lot for him otherwise), my brother hit back with his customary flap. ?chup laag? (shut up) said my mum at him and pushed the money in my pocket. ?Dukha nakatnu? (Don?t take troubles) She looked like she was going to cry. Mother?s love it was, I got awestruck. After a while a jeep came and my dad signalled it to stop. It was packed with men and women and children and there was very little space to put your feet on. The helper lifted my bag and I climbed on the rear of the jeep and managed to hang myself on one of the bars above my head. I looked behind and my mom was waiving her hand. I couldn?t waive her back because there was no space but I kept on looking behind until she was out of my sight. ---contd. to the next posting.