मेरो यस ब्लगमा सन् २००६ देखिका लेखनहरू मात्र छन् । त्यसभन्दा पहिले मैले सन् २००२ देखि २००५ सम्म क्यानडामा बस्दा छद्मनाममा लेख्ने गरेको थिएँ ब्लगमा। ब्लगस्पटमा लेखिएका ति लेखनहरू जस्ताका तस्तै त रहेनन् – तर आज कम्प्युटरमा पुराना लेखहरू खोज्नेक्रममा केही लेखनका खेस्राहरू एउटा रार (rar) फोल्डरमा फेला पारें । सबै त यस ब्लगमा राख्न उपयुक्त छैनन्, तर राख्न मिल्ने मध्यबाट चाँहि छानेर राख्ने निधो गरेको छु, लेखेको मिति सहित । नेपाली र अंग्रेजी दुवै भाषामा छन् त्यतिबेलाका मेरा लेखनहरू पनि, तर त्यतिबेला नेपालीमै बढि लेख्ने गर्थें जस्तो छ भेटिएका खेस्राहरू हेर्दा
तिनै खेस्राहरूबाट यो पहिलो टुक्रा, सत्य घटनामा आधारित काल्पनिक कथा
मिति: २६ जुलाई २००५
“आइ वाज बिजी – आइ फल इन लभ”
यसरी उसले जवाफ फर्काई जब क्षितिजले धेरै समयदेखि कता हरायौ भनी सोध्यो। अलिक नसोचेको जवाफ थियो यो तर उसलाई रमाइलो लाग्यो – कहिल्यै पनि आफ्ना साथीहरूबाट उसले यस किसिमको जवाफ पाएको थिएन। अनि ‘सधैँ एक्लै भएँ यत्रो उमेरसम्म पनि’ भन्दै गनगन गरिरहने साथीले अचानक मायामा फसेँ भन्दा उसलाई साह्रै खुशी लाग्यो।
साथीलाई बधाई दिँदै उसले भन्यो – “निकै मस्ति छ जस्तो छ तिमीलाई, प्रेममा ब्यस्त हुन पाउँदा!”
उसले भनी – “प्रेमले जीवनलाई रोमान्चक त बनाउँदो रहेछ, तर साह्रै जन्जालपूर्ण पनि।”
क्षितिजले केही प्रतिक्रिया दिन चाहेन उसको त्यो भनाइमा, कारण उसले भोगिसकेको थियो प्रेमको रोमान्चकता, जन्जालपूर्णता अनि विछोडको बेदना पनि। तरपनि साथीको भनाइलाई वास्ता नगरेको जस्तो देखाउन चाहेन र सोधिहाल्यो किन त्यस्तो जन्जालपूर्ण भयो प्रेम भनी। कुरा साथीको प्रेमी अर्कै देशको रहेछ, विश्वविद्यालयमा सँगै पढ्दा रहेछन् दुवैजना, अनि अहिले पढाई सकिने बेलामा बल्ल एक अर्कामा दुई बर्षदेखि पलाएको प्रेमको भावना साटेका रहेछन्। एक महिना जतिमा त दुवै आ-आफ्ना बाटो लाग्ने।
क्षितिजले भन्यो – “किन लग्दैनौ तिम्रो प्रेमीलाई तिमीसँगै आफ्नो देश? अथवा तिमी उसँगै उसको देश जान पनि त सक्छौ नि”
उसले भनी – “मेरो प्रेमी आफ्नै देश फर्किन चाहन्छ पढाई सकेपछि। त्यहाँ गएर गैसस खोली जनताको सेवा गर्ने विचार छ उसको”
“त्यसो भए तिमी उसँग जाऊ, जागिर पाइन भनेर गुनासो गर्थ्यौ अब आफ्नै प्रेमीको गैससमा काम पाउँछौ।” क्षितिजका यी कुरा सुनी उसले ऊ अहिल्यै आफ्नो प्रेमीको विकासोन्ममूख देश, जुनचाँहि त्यो क्षेत्रको सबैभन्दा गरीब देशमा गनिन्छ, मा जान तयार छैन भनेर प्रष्ट्याई।
उसले सोच्यो हुनपनि संसारको सबैभन्दा धनी देशमध्यमा गनिने देशकी उसकी साथी सबैभन्दा गरीब देशमध्यको एकमा जान के तयार हुन्थी र, जतिसुकै गाढा मायामा फसेकी भएपनि। आखिर हामी अहिले यति बास्तुपरक जीवन जिउँछौँ, सानो कुराको अभावले त हामीलाई अत्याउँछ भने उसको साथी र साथीको प्रेमीको देशको जनजीवनमा त आकाश-जमीनको फरक छ। माया-प्रेमले जात, रंग, धर्म आदि केहीलाई पनि छुट्याउँदैन भन्छन्, अनि त्यो कुरा साँचो पनि होला धेरै हदसम्म। उसकै साथीको हदमा पनि साँचो देखियो माया-प्रेमले छालाको रंग नदेखेको। तर अहिलेको युगमा ती पूराना वर्गीकरणहरू भन्दा पनि ठूलो वर्गीकरण त धनी र गरीब बीच पो छ। गरीबको जीवनलाई टाढाबाट हेर्ने अनि उनीहरूको दुख, परिश्रमको गुणगान गाउने, प्रसंशा गर्ने त धेरै भेटिन्छन् तर उनीहरूकै जस्तो जीवन जिउने हिम्मत गर्ने भेट्न मुश्किल नै पर्छ। आखिर आफ्नो भौतिक सुखले भरिपूर्ण जीवन कसले त्यति सहजै त्याग्न सक्छ र?
यी सबै कुरा क्षितिजले मनमै राख्यो – आफ्नी मिल्ने साथीको मायामा खोट लगाउन चाहेन उसले। बरू उसको अवस्थाप्रति सहानुभूति जनायो, अनि उसको सुखद भविष्यको कामना गर्दै बिदा लियो।
एम पी ‘क्षितिज’
A short story I ‘cooked’ while waiting for the airport shuttle very early one very cold morning! Titled ‘unseen’.
At a time when even the volvos have started to look beautiful, her car bore an ungainly look – a maroon coloured hatchback that looked disproportionately large at the back with the front almost burying on the ground. Nevertheless, a volvo it was too, that famously strong and safe car regardless of how it looked. She parked the car with a perfect manoeuvre, without need for any adjustments, and positioning the car perfectly in front of the power box for the engine heater. The morning was not very cold and the day’s forecast was for a mild weather too. She got out of the car and slammed the door behind without looking back. With a handbag on one hand and a plastic bag probably containing her breakfast on the other she hurried towards the new office block just a hundred or so metres away. It was almost 5:30 in the morning, still very dark but time for her to start her shift. She had less than two hours to finish her duties – duties to make a whole floor on the office block ready for another day. There were twenty rooms, and unconsciously she allocated at most five minutes for each. Of course things were flexible, some rooms required double that time or even more, and some, a glance did the trick. For the latter types, it was as if her glance was sufficient to blow what little dust off the shelves and desks, and return things into their places even if they had been displaced only by a millimetre. For the former ones however, sometimes the inhabitants left the mess behind in just a few hours of work. She often wondered how could someone with a desk job make such a mess. Papers everywhere, dust everywhere, coffee stains on the floor and on the desk with a coaster lying just beside the stain! She had to get the stain remover and a mop for the floor.
By 7:30 she was already out of her floor after finishing all the rooms, and sipping coffee and biting on her home-made ham and cheese sandwich at her “office” with other workers like her. In the meantime those inhabiting the freshly made offices started to appear and made themselves comfortable on their comfy chairs and plan for the day’s work as if nothing had changed from the day before. They didn’t even notice the freshness of their office or the dust and stain-free environment, opposite of what they had left the day before. In the “ten minute” suite, a bulky middle-aged gentleman sipped coffee noisily, spilling some from the rims while placing the cup on the desk behind his computer mouse. The still brand new coaster sat beside the newly forming stain.
[Image source: wpclipart.com]
He had never cared to step on the step-on weighing scale that lay beneath the towel radiator in the bathroom until one day when he saw it out in the open with fresh marks of a pair of feet. The marks of those slender looking feet got him thinking who it was, for his house-mates definitely didn’t look like the ones with slender feet. They might have been his own feet, only that they were a couple of sizes too big. In any case, seeing the scale out in the open, he decided to step on, and to his horror found that he was 8.7 STONES!
He wasn’t horrified at his weight, he was horrified because the scale only showed the weight in STONES! Truth was he didn’t know how much 8.7 Stones was in Kilogram. He knew 1 pound was around half a kilo, but he had no idea how many pounds made a Stone! In any case, he got on with his routine, and as soon as he was back in his room, he Googled to find the conversion table. He was really horrified now that he knew his current weight in kilograms. 55 Kg! He has never been this heavy – he was proud of his 50±1 Kg body weight. Suddenly he found himself FOUR Kilos overweight.
He went back to the bathroom to confirm his weight (in stones) – took off his clothes to make sure he got the accurate measurement and stepped on the scale once more. Still 8.7 Stones. Tried again. Still 8.7 Stones. A third time. Still the same. It was clear that he had put on weight, probably for the first time in his life!
Continue reading the ritual
He only remembered her eyes – those large hazel-brown eyes. He remembered how she let him know all she wanted just from her looks through those eyes. Her happiness, sadness, anger, playfulness…all. She, on the other hand, only remembered his hair – those long, plaited dark hair, which when cut became nice curly hair, rolled into hundreds of identical rings. She remembered playing with his hair, while he gazed at her eyes. He was generally a quiet type but full of energy for childhood adventures, and a good sense of humour even at that age. Remembering each other always brought smiles to their faces, and a deep urge to meet each other again. And every time they came back home to meet their parents, they remembered each other and wished they would stumble upon each other, only if at the bus stop or the village temple. This urge became stronger when their parents told them how the other was doing, and how they were like a couple as kids and now probably wouldn’t recognise each other even if they met.
Continue reading Her Eyes, His Hair