Babal khate jyu,

I tried posting a thread here last month, a futile and shameless attempt to promote myself, but no one cared about it since it seems that most sajhaite prefer reading the threads only when it is posted by someone familiar. Although my effort was highly mediocre, I still thought it was worth sharing, so here it is once again:

EMPIRE STATE OF TEEJ

 ‘S#*t, I am already late’ Jini Baral mumbled under her breath as she looked for her keys that seemed to be lost inside her imitation Louis Vuitton purse. It was already dark and she was expected to reach Flushing few hours ago. It was her first Teej, and she had planned to make the best out of it, only that she did not know how. But her friends, who celebrated the festival with utmost alacrity, even though some were not married, would help her get past the ritual.

Jini was an attractive 27 year old living her New York dream – in a way students on a visa do. Attending a cheap community college with an unidentified major to maintain her immigrant status and a pizza joint that employed her illegally seemed to be just enough for her stay in America. She had married her two-year-relationship-old boyfriend who worked in a Dunkin’ Donuts in mid-town Manhattan. Sunny Basnet, Jini’s husband was a business major at CUNY. It had already been six years, and he still had few credits remaining. Over the years he had somehow lost his GPAs over video games, basketball practices, Abercrombie and Fitch T-Shirts and alcohol fueled guitar nights. Surprisingly, he still aspired to make it to Wall Street upon graduation. More surprisingly, Jini believed him.

“I saw George Clooney and Avril Lavigne today”, he would tell Jini sometimes over dinner they seldom ate together. “If I only see Bloomberg in my store someday, my life’s gonna change.”

Sunny sincerely believed that the mayor of New York city was in some sort of manhunt to find a suitable candidate who’d assist him run his office. And as expected, Jini believed it too.

They both were a popular couple among Nepalese community in Queens who participated eagerly in every get-togethers, potlucks, concerts and soccer games. One of the reasons behind their popularity was their names which rhymed together so well, it would put a two year old to smile. Jini-Sunny was a marriage made in heaven, and no one questioned the wisdom of their parents to bequeath them with names that barely made sense.

Jini looked at herself in the mirror. She had just taken a quick shower; it was her first this week. The smell of pizza had gone finally gone away. Most of the times she would spray Calgon all over and chew a gum – a perfect remedy against any malodor for busy individuals surviving a New York minute. Wearing a Saree had been a struggle, but she somehow overcame the challenge after forty-five minutes. She looked pretty, draped in crimson fabric, lips painted red and adorned with gold jewelries she had never worn until now. Carefully, she then placed ‘tilhari’ ( a meter long necklace weaved out of green beads fastened to a piece of gold in the middle), diagonally across her torso. She examined herself once again.

‘Perfect’ she said aloud, she was ready for Teej.

Sunny had already arrived while she was in the shower, and had sunk himself in the couch, hydrating himself with a Corona and watching Yankees and Rays battle at Tampa Bay.

“Ready?” Jini grabbed her Beige leather purse which had COACH written all over it. This was an original one, Sunny had brought it one night as a surprise gift. He had had a successful week then, his boss was visiting Bangladesh and he would secretly find a way of rewarding himself with an extra fifty dollars everyday. Of course he wouldn’t disclose it to anyone, not even Jini. Women, he knew, would surprisingly become ethical during arguments.

7 train arrived at its own sluggish pace to Jini’s agony. She stifled profanities many a times looking at the rail tracks. She swore a lot, and dropped F-bombs frequently. For some reason she believed that swearing made her sound more urban, or rather more American. Other than that she struggled with both speaking and writing English except ‘Hi this is Nino’s pizza, how may I help you’ and ‘Would you like to hear our today’s special sir’.

"Christina must have already opened the wine bottle, I am so F#$king late.” Jini mumbled looking through the train’s window, the train had just crept past Junction Boulevard.

“Why do you care, it is Teej, you are not supposed to drink, infact you are supposed to fast all day.” Sunny responded, gradually becoming testy towards her anxiety.

It took Jini by surprise. “I almost forgot, thanks for reminding me, your mom would have killed me otherwise”.

She looked outside the window again, the train was now accelerating. Then as if she suddenly remembered something, she grabbed Sunny’s arm and almost screamed.

"We are so F#$ked”.

“What happened?” Sunny looked surprised.

“You forgot your DSLR a#$hole” and started sobbing; her face covered. The passengers who were looking at her ruddy attire over sometime, suddenly looked away, a little embarrassed, half unsure what had transpired over the minute.

Jini stormed out of the train as it stopped at 111 street; cursing inaudibly and heading towards the turnstile to return to Sunnyside. Sunny ran behind her.

“Jini wait, what happened, there are many people there with cameras, what is a f$*king big deal about it”

“They only have a regular digital camera you jerk”, Jini snarled, “How am I supposed to upload my photos in Facebook taken with point and shoot?”