3

I started smoking while I was in high school. I thought it would be ‘cool’ and I would easily fit in with other sassy kids. I unreservedly repent picking up the nasty habit. No one in my family knew about my smoking habit. I had always tried to stop smoking when I was at home. It was easier said than done. I had to smoke at least one cigarette a day. Everyone in the neighborhood knew me and somehow I portrayed a ‘nice-guy’ image. There were moments when the rebel inside me wanted to revolt and upset the perception but I simply caved in. Initially after coming home from the boarding school, I walked a mile away from my home just to smoke. Although I enjoyed walking, it had become a nuisance to go that far every time I had a whim to smoke. I started sneaking to a pool house to smoke. Shirish was a regular to the pool house.  At first he was shocked seeing me smoke but afterwards he became my source of cigarettes as I didn’t want to buy from local shops since they knew me and my parents.

Shirish and I grew up together.  We were also related; he was my second cousin. He had a mullet that he colored orange yellow. I now find it funny as I found the name for the style and its typical association which belied his purported mission to make a rebellious statement. It wasn’t a fashion then but again I don’t know how he picked it up. He was the first one from our generation, in our extended family, who openly smoked. Although my parents didn’t like seeing with him, they were seldom vocal about it. You could see him playing carom and smoking with other kids near the wada karyalaya.  It was a big deal. Every time I talked with him, he was doing something new –he was enrolled in computer diploma, Japanese language proficiency class, guitar lessons, new business plan etc. I was not sure whether he was going to a college. At times, I even had doubt he passed the SLC. Nonetheless he had an ambition to succeed in life.

Shirish’s family also had a house in the main street. There was a hardware store which wasn’t doing well and the tenant was always late in making the payment. As he told me once, they collected Fifty-five hundred rupees per month renting that shutter and a back room. His dad was unemployed. One day his dad decided to evict the current tenant and start their own business. That’s the story of their kirana pasal. Suddenly everyone was kind of employed in their house. Each one of them had to work a shift to give another a break. Since his sister was still in school, it was upon him to help his parents even though they were a bit skeptical about him. I never heard him steal money from the shop however.

The class eleven final exams had just been over. It was a point in my life where I was totally disillusioned with life in general­–school was particularly painful for the way it was taught in Nepal. I didn’t know what exactly was I doing or what I wanted to be. Still it’s the same but it is a new normal and I have fully accepted it.  But back then it was supposed to be a period of hope and despair, discipline and chaos, excitement and anxiety, dedication and apathy, war and peace (I literally picked that book among all the books to read during my break).Maybe it was just teenage angst. The phase was characteristically defined by a state of ennui. I simply didn’t enjoy going to school or doing anything. I remember picking up a paper and writing ‘clutters enshroud my mind.’

Perhaps my life was full of oxymoron, or not!

I used to sleep late and wake up late. It was already one o’clock when I met Shirish on my way back home after buying a newspaper. He was on his way to their shop.

“Did you come out of your cave to buy cigarette?” He asked me with a wink.

“Only the newspaper,” I replied. ”Are you on going to Duty?”

“Yes. My dad is waiting for me to get there so that he could go home for lunch. I’ll be there until five. Come over to our shop, I’ll get cigarettes and we can go out for a smoke.”

“I’ll be at the stationery near your shop. Find me there when you are off,” I told him as he walked away from me.

 Being a poor student and an avid reader, I couldn’t afford buying magazines. So I’d go to the stationery store that was near Shirish’s shop and spend hours reading magazines, books and weeklies. The owner didn’t mind my presence as he was my dad’s friend and he did enjoy my company as well. Every evening a bunch of people would gather there and discuss politics, literature, and myriad social issues which helped me in expanding my knowledge base even though I had hardly anything to contribute. 

4

Around six o’clock Shirish came to the stationery. From there we took a narrow alley and walked towards a Buddhist monastery. Five minutes into the walk we stopped in an open space. Near that ground there used to be a big swamp which was later filled with earth and now there stood a number of newly built houses that were surrounded by high walls and ubiquitous prayer flags. Four years ago, someone had started to build a house in that open space too. Half of the foundation was laid and for some reason, not known to me, the work was halted thereafter. It had been like that except the grass had grown back and covered the small concrete foundation. I chose that place as my smoking area as it was not far from my home and yet no one I knew would go there. Shirish had been smoking wherever he pleased except for his own home. But he accompanied me as he liked to share his personal stories and wanted someone to give him advices. Many of the times his ideas were downright juvenile. More recently I had seen changes in his disposition, perhaps because he had been talking to people who came to his shop. For instance that particular moment he wanted to start a small sand depot.

He opened a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. He smoked Shikhar brand.

I lighted the cigarette and asked him, “Where are you going to get money from?”

“Our land near the Bagmati river is actually owned by Ghyang Guthi. My dad has been trying to make that land ‘Raikar’ and sell it. He has already spent forty thousand rupees on it. Although it hit a snag for a year, it seems like it will materialize within this month. It is a ropani and 4 paisa big and we already have a buyer. “

There was still a small vestige of swamp remaining near where we were sitting. As we were smoking a swarm of black flies came and formed halos around our head.  They didn’t really bite but the buzzing noise was bothering me.

 “Insect King! Look how I can summon them and can build my own army,” I muttered. They may have been attracted due to smoke or might as well have been due to human pheromones. I quickly realized he had been talking about different thing.

“What happened to your plans about going Japan…and how is your language course coming along?” I punctured my thought.

“I need to complete this course and pass the language proficiency test. In the meantime, the consultancy has been applying to some universities.  I am not sure how it goes but I don’t want it to stop me from starting this business.”

He started talking about a girl he had met in the language class. He said his only problem was that she was from a different caste. After a brief pause, he started making fun of me for not having a girlfriend or not having courage to speak to girls. As he was going on with his mockery, we saw Roshani walking in the road towards a cluster of small building that was some kind of factory.

 “She is the prettiest girl I have ever seen. Do you want her?” Shirish said with an authoritative tone.

“I am not interested,” I feigned.

“Who is asking you to get married?” he paused to throw a smoke bubble, “I can arrange her for you. Don’t you have any desire?”

The bubbles started bursting.

“I do. What did you mean by ‘arranging’?”

 I knew what it was generally used for but I wasn’t certain what he was talking about. I was shocked to hear from him and hoped he didn’t mean what I had thought.

“You are very dumb. You need to hang out with us more. Just bring 500 rupees and I can arrange that girl for you.”

“Whaa…aaat?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was like someone putting a dagger through my heart. 

Gathering myself I inquired him, “Have you ever been with her?”

“No. But I can whenever I want to. I’m not a loser like you. I have a girlfriend and I am loyal. You know Pasang dai…yeah he said he can help me. And that pashmina factory”, he said pointing to the gate Roshani just went in, “is owned by Pasang dai and she works there.”

I knew Pasang dai had a pashmina factory. I also knew Roshani worked in a pashmina factory and she was from the same village as he did, but didn’t know that she worked in his factory. In fact I had seen her many times in Pasang dai’s home but never established a connection.

“Your girlfriend?! You have met her just for a month and you just said you really didn’t want anything with her.” I wasn’t really concerned about his girlfriend. I was totally devastated hearing about Roshani.  

“Forget it. I am just trying to help you. Keep doing what you have been doing. Good for you it costs nothing,” he continued to mock me. “Bro ko chhaina hola.”

“Tero bau ko chhaina hola.”

He gave out a big laughter. A group of people who were walking on the road turned their head towards us and kept walking.

“Anyway, give me another cigarette,” I said with a trembling voice.

 “You need to get that stress relieved if you know what I mean.” He laughed again.

I didn’t say anything but quickly finished the cigarette.  It started to rain a little. The black flies started scattering away. 

“I need to go to my language class in an hour. Meet me tomorrow around same time in front of that wada karyalaya. We can go on a walk towards the Bagmati river,” Shirish said as we approached a fork on the road.

He went towards his shop. I walked towards my home.