Half Hearted Soul-5

     

            

       How I met her!


“Sam,sorry…” someone had said to me in the morning. Some friends of my love were sobbing when I had passed their class. Then there were ‘I’m sorry‘ glances from most of the students who knew my love. That moment was something I could never forget for something strange was going on with my love’s life. Yet I as the nearest friend to her knew nothing. I heaved a slow breathe then took in more, listened carefully to what the director had to say.

————‘————–‘——————‘————

5:05 AM – WOKE up as usual. Filled the diary and got ready for school. It was another day that was to be seen as a festive day!

The birds were just about to fly when we ( the students ) had gathered for the Music festival at the school hall. Behind the music was the tall good looking boy with a Beats headphone dangling on his neck. The mood was going good while the seniors arranged the stage with flowers, ribbons, banners and memories shared.

The air finally was full of love, too many standing hand-in-hand, kissing, hugging, laughing, sharing. Balloons were hung on the metal bars up on the ceiling, too many, too beautiful.

The feeling was finally diminished with a tap on my shoulder from behind. Then a voice said, ” Hey you know where Tsewang is? ”

The voice was so tender, I felt like storing it for my own. I took a step farther so when I turned back I would see the voice owner in full. 

And there my heart stopped as I was finally facing the voice owner. Everything that was alive didn’t budge a bit, for it was my moment, my precious time. I gazed like a innocent child over a delicious chocolate. I saw the pyramid, the Eiffel Tower, the Great Wall of China in front of me. I saw the sun dance, the moon giving me it’s shadow, I saw the…

She was waving her hands in front of my eyes,” Hello!! Will you tell me or not? ”

I needed more time. More of her.

“Um. Sorry. What were you saying?” I took my chance. I didn’t know what else to say then. It was the only way of listening to her more.  Gazing at the perfect human being ever.

“Never mind.”, she said as she walked away to a group of girls whom I knew more or less. And there I was still dreaming.

 Ever since that moment my eye got fixed on her and my heart skipped a bit every time she laughed, smiled. 

Sam, someone called. I found the perfect idea then. The man of all knowledge about girls was standing there, calling for my name. And I thought it was a gift from the love God. Thank god!

 “Yo Sam, come here. The photo shoot is about a few seconds away.” Capturing what was going on, the stage was now set, the sun was about to come out, the gathering was growing larger and larger with new young faces glamorous as ever and I saw her again smiling. Gorgeous!

“Tsering, can I ask you something?”

“No chance. By the way you won’t have a chance!”,said Tsering before I could tell him anything.

“Whom are you talking about?”

Showing off his cowboy hat, and that he had the best grey suit among us, he said,”Her name is Palmo Dolma.”

“Who?”, I asked.

“The girl you are referring to. I saw that you were gazing at her as if she had cursed you.”

“But you don’t know whom I’m referring to!” I was angry and confused. I didn’t knew whom he was referring to.

“Okay champ. You see that girl smiling all over with those other girls? The one who is wearing the jeans!” Shut so he was looking at me all the time I dreamed about the only first girl I had a crush and a feeling of owning her. He was..

“Okay. So you know. Well give me some info about her.” I was reluctant at first. I thought I would just ask who she was but Tsering knew it now that I had a crush. Now it would only be the chance to get into action for It would be too late until the rumour starts to flow by and I will be a victim of eve-teasing. More then that I would be more broken.

“No I can’t do that. It’s do and dare now. Approach her by yourself. You have the first lead. Palmo Dolma.”, he said as he pushed me to move ahead. And then the trick started. All the boys and girls were informed about my my crush to be proposed. It was not what I had expected. I felt insecure of myself. My belief. 

Every challenge that I took was accomplished yet this love game was not. It was my first. Now a drug was firmed to make me mad day by day. I knew the consequences. And still then I was there walking towards this stranger I had fallen in love with, whom now I had to challenge that I was stronger. Silently with my heart skipping a beat, I moved towards her. 

Hungry Running! 

Imagination of running freely under the scorching sun while feeling the beauty of heart beat beating on every small crooked trails that leads to never-seen or never – experienced handsomeness of the hills, mountains, cities, forest etc seem to be a psychological pain in the mind of our Nepali’s blood. With education lacked by the people due to the childish plans of Rana and scarce of infrastructure for the citizen due to rural way of living behind forested hills in less cherishing ideas and methods,  the capability of thinking that opportunities lurks around us seems to be a deaf and blind mind!
But time have changed in the minds of young people living in the era of free brainstorming ideas and revolutions of education process processed for the ever evolving social animal; Human Beings.

As processed, the small free access that I have in me let me to see that the opportunities lying around me were the most cheapest yet worthy gifts I would ever lay my hands into. And one of the greatest gift ever that happened to me was running.

Well history of me went by reading alt of novels in my junior classes. Butt on the bench, novel on the table, my physical body was useless as my mental body was somewhere inside the story, searching for answers. But as I got into grade 10 at another school, plots came on my real life as we’re in the novels

Trail running, marathons, and events of physical challenge slowly got introduced to me through the articles that I got to read on morning newspapers. Magazines then came on with more information of how people enjoy running even to the extreme such as in snow, desert., etc, with proud faces at the end carrying sack full of experiences. Memories . A desire fulfilled and many more made.

Here give a read to my trail run at Bhaktapur: Trail Run

Half Hearted Soul-4

A line of taxi were stationed on a side of the garbage piled road. I waved my hand to one of them with the quick result of a man maneuvering his taxi towards me. I was just new then. I gave him the address where I wanted to go.
“Bhai, yo ta derai tada cha! It will cost you 1500 NRS.” I didn’t cared what he said but the fact that I needed to get to that destination fast and quickly was important. I nodded my head in approval and sat inside. 

The memories came back again, this time it was hard to control my eyes on letting the salty water flow to glow my face forever. 

” She was there, lying dead as the water flowed to her neck. I was just completely in shock to get her out. ”

” long journey ahead!”, said the driver as sweats formed on my forehead. I kept quiet while my mind raced to pieces of information that killed each of my small hopes. I was too late. But then I had to give a try. A try that would decide how my mental health would move on. A try which will be my answer to less tragic. A try,.

I could see the taxi heading on to the highway with vehicles less in numbers. I learned later that it was Dashain. People were gone to their lands. 

And I was still here trying to figure out my heart to get back to the normal me. The boy me!

I took out my notes and papers from the bag to see if I have got all that would let me to have a chance. A chance that would let me be sorry for what i did. It was not an easy task though however it was a try. 

A try that would make me to go back to my days of love, my being myself.

————————-“__”—————————

“Sam you are being called in the office.” I was finally happy and at the same time happy to being called. I knew I would get my answers now. What I have been waiting for was knocking on me now. 

I went out in a jiffy and counted to 15 as I got inside the office to be faced. Faced by the school director himself.

I moved back to time and listened carefully to that echo. Now I was in dilemma. It would be talk about my love. About her that would kill me. Questions rose. “Was she alright? What made her not to see me?”, but then I needed to stay quiet. Stay calm and see the time shout. I was just tired. Tired enough to think less about the passing time. A few seconds more and the answer would lay before me. I was hope less. 

To be continued. ……

Novel- a passion!

Hello! To start with my name is Samdup Gurung if you don’t recognise me even now. Well the few words I will be writing or saying can be a bit bookish type but anyway I will say it. Hope the ahead blabbering of mine be understandable to you all. My hobby, Novel.

Under the shade of stern yet caring eyes, I an innocent child grew among bundle full of aliens with impersonating behaviours and yes, most of them failed in the walk of its mastering. Though grasping here the journey of alphabets to tables ( 2×1=2, 2×2=4, something like that, um.. sorry ) let me to heighten my standards of education, joining another school with an astonishing statute of conversing in English let me to the wildest dream of capturing the pictures of novels which I am fond of today. To be virtuous I started feeding myself Tinkle (yeah!!- Shikari Shambhu, Kalia – The Crow, Tantri – The Mantri) to consume my time when the books of class 6,7,8,9 and 10 left unopened or untouched on the desk or either in my useless bag. Wait don’t misunderstand me for now I love my bag. It carries those beautiful books where pages turn on my finger’s command when opened at classes or wherever if attainable.

The irony part of me was I never glanced my eye on the textbooks until it was exam time or any other periods where a strict faced teacher would come, otherwise I knew what my interest was. Novels. 

Remember if I may say, I chose to be what I want to be and that chosen fate is standing here in front of you all. My secret behind is, every single morning, I start with this unimaginable question,

How many pages am I going to dive into? What would be that picture that would make me smile, cry and laugh? “

 As said it is my motivation call that I cling onto and when I reach the class or any study hours, I start flipping my book’s pages. Novels. The reason why I read so much is it opens all the buds inside of me by the extravagant words and feelings of the characters. I get to see a whole new world every time a novel is on my hand. I sometimes wonder whether my healthy body is the reason of this hobby. Oh yes I run too.

My point until now clears what I’m fond of and will be in the passing days. So like me I would love you to follow your heart no matter if you taste success in it or not but one thing will be clear. You will be free of all doubts and sadness.

No matter what your hobby is, do it, hunt it and live with it!

Half Hearted Soul-3

I heard the bell ring as we departed for our separate class. She was a senior then me. So I went alone to the class to be faced by an attractive woman who had blonde hair, a perfect nose, neither too big nor small. She was our new class teacher as I heard on my way to the mid – bench. I knew it was time to listen to the introduction and welcome speech after the long gap.

“Hello students. I’m Dolma Sangmo. You can call me Sangmo.”, she began with head held high. I knew I would love the next words then.

“Every year I have seen young faces like you all come and go, making a bond, a love between a teacher and student. Moments have lasted and forgotten, every heart beat gradually decreasing, time used and wasted. We all are here together as a seed, to grow, to rise and to start afresh. It’s a time of memories to carve. A time of love, oneness and togetherness.So we are here..”  Some students were dozing off, some were listening to their earpieces, some slugged, while some students like me listened, watched at her carefully as she spoke,” So here I’m as a teacher to make dreams come true, to find the love in all of you. To be better no matter what the situation comes to. Thus are my words. I hope you all will gain the knowledge of truth, affection and lastly your presence in this earth be recognised one day. Thank you!” 

What a welcome speech! I thought. An instant heart of me longed for her class to come sooner. Pasang, Dawa, Jenish, Anish were all there, my old mates whom I had studied back then. I was a shy and loser-typo boy then. I was never accepted to talk big until she came. My angel. My love!

            ————–*__*—————-

Short- locked memories 

Loads of ideas tamed and dreams dreamed, normal people and athletes always like to do better or experience funnier yet worthy enough to be proud of. Chances are likely that the place you want to run is more expensive due to travel cost or out of your zone.

But what if you had a lucky day? Let’s say while you were running in the nearby hills or bought a cheap lottery for just in case you bumped into something and you really get that ticket to your dream land where you would love to run all day long. Well you would sure be filled with tears of happiness, as it had happened to me.

As said, my running journey in the forbidden Kingdom of Lo, Mustang was a successful and a great memory to cherish. Though it was my hometown, I was here finally running on the hills, small crooked trails to reach the destination after 13 long years. Though the foreigners who were running paid more than 3k $, I was running free of cost. It was my lottery!

The trail was unbearably windy, yet you give that attitude of “ It’s pushing me to move forward. ”
Dustier the roads, the winds unimaginably gets stronger while the time ticks by.

‘You are a strong boy.’ I heard Ken Cross say as I passed him on an unforgiving 4000 + m hill while running from Ghara to Chuksang. I knew it would be over soon. So I beared the pain. But what a pain it was on knowing that the hill was too high, too up to go on. Though how mighty or beautiful it looked, it was like a punishment. Punishment that could be beared but one of a kind that stitches to your heart.


Most importantly it was a run, a run that could take out sweats for 8 straight days to 135 km+ and fill the pores full of emotions. The best part arrived when the legs got lighter and soft which gave the sensation of flying on the hills without much effort. 

Knowing that the time will run out soon, the athletic energy deeply buried inside the small heart starts to get out and all I could see was myself running from the time but capturing the seconds of each time with landscapes of innocent people smiling, goats and herd of yak trudging more higher. A locked memory now.

Leave a feedback! 

Half Hearted Soul-2

School had just started after summer break, leading to more excitement, talks on what one did or saw or experienced. Gossiping after such a long time, hanging again in the corridors or field seemed a routine then. The classrooms were bleached on. New bright white colours with marble floor polished to mirror. The fans were substituted by AC  looking much modern, learning friendly environment. 
“Sam?”, looking behind, there she was. My love. My safe heaven. My girl. With a smile she came toward me. We hugged after a long time and kissed for seconds which seemed too long, too good. 

Hand in hand we walked towards the field, to be touched by the weather and remember the past we had spent there, to be again the same old we, to fall in love.
As we sat I took out a paper where I had written something for her. It was based on the poem “Oh, My Love Is Like a Red, Red Rose” by Robert Burns. I started as the shadow of the tree covered us to see the students playing soccer, some reading books, some cuddled like we were. The sky brimmed with blue, the air clean, thus I began.
“Love is a mystery which makes the life of a couple more aspiring, lovely, adventurous and complicated. As the lover says, his love is as red as rose, as new as it is in spring. He means that full of sweet fragrance, as beauty and fresh as always his love is. The longer you stand-up together, the sweeter it becomes as if the melody of tunes has bewitched you.” I could see by then that she had a smile. A smile of love.

Love is so unusual and respected that the lover would still love his love till the ocean dries, would love even if the impossible were to take place. He compares his love to the sun that can melt down rocks as had his love melt him.” a pause, ” Uncertain is life, so is love, saying goodbye does exist. So has come back again, fresh, young, energetic, healthy, to love again, to be more sure of oneself.” “Distance doesn’t matter as it’s love!”, says the lover walking back, a hand waving     ( goodbye ) ( I will be back soon ).

I stood up the moment I finished reading, gave my hand to her and said for the first time of the season, ” I love you more than the soul that keeps me alive, I love you more than the breathe I take in, I love you more than any priceless things. I love you as a friend, as a soul mate, as a….” I trailed off then for she was inside me, kissing, crying, laughing at the same time. I slowly pushed her back and said, ” I am back.

Continuation on demand or tomorrow!

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Half Hearted Soul

It was strange seeing for the first time this new neighbourhood. Plastics and garbage thrown here and there, fresh bitter smells of cow dung seemed normal as the soldiers of feet shuffling along the very street with no dignity to hold. Even though bright red signboards hung on almost every pillar up and down the street, eyes were blind towards it as if it hadn’t existed at all.

The left part of the city once proud of its cleanest river bored a picture of dirty old smelly chocolate coloured of waste. Ashes to garbage, body parts danced to the rhythm of this very smelly flow where Brahmins bathed for sins to be eradicated. It’s a shame when seeing these holy men pray and dip. 

I wonder how they enriches the moral value of its followers when the air around them is full of pungent stench. 

Is it maniac when they dipped and ignorant sluices their garments?

So far honking seems to be a tradition  among these drivers as they blew their loudest, brimming with pride. It’s hard to digest that this so-called drivers are human beings for we are to be known as the cleverest and broad minded animal on earth. I speculate sometimes how their children study when they are in a mist of education process while all they hear is the loud honk.
I knew I was dreaming then, a place I could have never imagined lay before me, all the noise, the stench which was killing me, a man of medium height, fat, thick white moustache, bare legged stared upon me. I closed my eyes, opened yet it was still the same. 

I pinched myself once, twice and I was still there being stared. I tried flapping my hands to trick the mind which was sleeping to wake up in the middle of a night on a comfortable bed, but I was there. 

People of different shapes and sizes moved lazily, a small man on the next road came out of a small tea-stall with tea in hand as three old aged men sat on a round table, discussing about politics ( the way they were expressing and the red blood eyed to test patience ). A dirty old blue plastered house stood around further down the alley, a line of temporary garages filled with dead creepers on the wall adjoining to them let me to welcome my recollection of how I ended here, being stared at!

While I recollected my thoughts smoke rose high up from a chimney farther north, picturing a black and white old town. A kid with two older boys were playing with marbles at a small open place, a newspaper delivery boy was cycling up the street throwing each after a quick glance at the familiar houses.

And I was still there, recollecting my memor…..

Out of blue I was standing on the middle of a road with my mind suddenly confused of how I was transported here with the noisy honk as people and vehicles were on the same level, shouting, smoking, panicking and spitting.

“What on earth is happening here?”, said the inside of me.

And then I fell. I was in pain. I had my memory corrupted with no idea of what was happening to me. I was just tired of all this. I couldn’t think much. Somewhere inside me there was a truth that I needed to find. The thought of it made me to widen my eye, my mouth frantically moving up and down, I fell again. This time harder.

Suddenly there was a ray. Someone from behind touched me.  It was a feeling of love. I looked back and there I saw the most important man of my life. Well it was my first time seeing him though. It was magical.     

“Ah, finally you will be at peace, son!”, I heard him say.

How was it possible? For all those years where had he been?

Puzzled at the same time happy (sad@loop), “Dad?” moved my mouth yet nothing came out of it. Tongue as dry as my lips, I cried with no tears to flow, I was helpless. I ….

A sudden chill hit me on my face. I woke up to see the same white moustached man and several others passersby staring at me. I noticed that there was now a small jug on the left hand of the man.
Hey are you fine? 

Slowly memories came back. I stood up with trembling legs and at the same time of the state I was in. People murmured amongst them while I took my only belonging, a small bag with memories inside. 

Move. The order inside of me barked, so I walked, leaving the people to murmur more among themselves. The moment I felt that I was actually walking, I knew it would be dirty again. Hopeless and searching! 

Control was the word that hunged on me as I breathed in and out to get by the wide pavement that I took to the right of the street. With no idea of where my destination was, I moved on. I was just 19 years. Tall, a muscular figure, a bit matured, so was my appearance. My appearance was what concealed the age of me. Smart and intelligent, handsome were the compliments that I heard from the teachers and girls at school. But then one day, all went terribly wrong, unexpected things started to happen.

Continuation tomorrow!

Until then share!!!!!!

Trail race

Pilot Baba Trail Run: KTRS #5

The soothing sound of the hushing wind on a fast-pacing motorbike flicked the excitement of the days that were gone to running and the days to come where legs could be much stronger, much healthier, and much professional. And the shower of rain in the morning with the road completely open, gave me an impression that the day will go out well. It was like an open invitation to the tired-less leg of ours to stand atop the soil firmly without much disturbances from the normal honks, dust and the scorching sun. It was a trail race.

The road led me to Springdale school in Suryabinayak, Bhaktapur where soon a challenge would be given and memories would be made. At just 05:30 hours the school looked calm and cool with the dirt-less environment. Though there was only the sign of the school volunteers I felt great to be there. The posters were already in place and I dreamed of myself going all the way at a very good time.

The event was to be started at 07:30 hours so the spotting of turnouts was going up at interval times with smiles of recognition amongst each other. And in the midst of all that we could clearly hear the star welcoming the sturdy, beautiful leg owners to give their best with laughter every now and then. It was a moment to be cherished at watching those people’s energy being flown amongst their talks and hugs. 

That moment reminded me of how great it is to feel lovely and secured while being with the ones that you are comfortable with. A conversation within and you are done. A tons to share of what you did and what you would love to do. The best part of it was to see how ready they were and what they look forward to see with the expectation of what they have.

The event soon came to life as a cup of coffee without sugar bulged in my belly as the head belled aloud to say that the countdown of 10 be started. But before that the Chief Guest was thanked for coming to support trail running in Nepal.  It was the former industrial minister Mr. Mahesh Basnet. And then there was the loud frank voice of the star to wish good luck to all. The star was none other than Mira Rai, a champion among hearts and an inspiration for girls and boys in the sport of trail running all over the world. She was jumping up with a huge smile as she spoke. Beside her, on top of a chair stood the head, Preeti Khattri didi, started instructing how to not get lost and mistake the markings.

The final count being down of the trail race of 15km organized by Trail Running Nepal under the program of Kathmandu Trail Running Series (KTRS) with the event being the 5th follow up of latest, the sturdy leg owners (runners) paced their way up to the trails that waited us to give surprise among the interior of the natural beauty; Forest.

100 meters before reaching the hill, I saw myself running among the best in town as I counted myself to be in top 4. But when the real trail of uphill came I saw myself being left behind by the non-stop runners. The branches and the grasses became my friend while I carefully placed my shoe to the right spot so that there would be no slipping. The good news was I managed to overrule that idea and thought about the remaining 80% of trails which were still left to traverse. I was beginning to grow much stronger than. 

Meanwhile, the dews from the leaves cooled me and my focus was directed to my legs to see if any leeches were hanging on. This led me to see myself on the first checkpoint. It was just 3km then.

The rest trails showed us a glimpse of the Kathmandu valley with the showcase of unplanned urbanization. The view looked much spectacular with the sun just coming up and Pilot Baba temple just a hill away.

The cutest part of the trail was to see smiling faces of children running along and showing their innocent behavior of be-wilderness. It was so good to see those smiles and laughter. Then came the special route where we were running in the midst of village life with classic houses standing by with old folks looking out of their windows. This part reminded me of how something new can be interesting if it looked very different. And I think that was their first time seeing a lot of people running through them. 

Trails were not the best before but now came the professional route. It was a steep downhill where if you put a wrong step then you will be sleeping on the mud. I guess only the do-dare runners ran along that. And I was one of them. I was flying through it. It was my pie. My profession to run down like no one can. At least that was what I thought.

Flying down showed us the way to the fields of wheat. It was a good trail to see that you were not lacking anything related to energy issues as the trail was finishing faster.

With lots of sweat gone and troubles taken to put the best time for the day, a final glimpse of the end point gave the relaxation that we wanted.

On arrival we were gifted a clay made local souvenir to let us know how beautiful we were that day.

Then came the fruit. It was the famous local delicacy-Juju dau (curd made in Bhaktapur).

The curd settled well inside us but our brain was racing rapidly to share the stories of what we had along the way. It was a very tiring job to listen to others as we needed to share our stories. That was what our life looked like. A life of having different perception though the deal was same. 

The runners were now thinking ahead of time. They were much hungrier every time they had finished their past. Another week to implore more inside of what story you can get. The next challenge was a 51km in Sindhupalchowk on 29th of July and KTRS #6 on August 5.

In overall the day was a good memory with the trails of Bhaktapur. There were a lot to see, to be felt, and to be remembered. It was a trail of quests and goals. A trail race never to be forgotten.

Locked memories- Part 3

Hello hello! said, the crew was in the micro now. A destination on mind the roaring micro took us away from the busy street of Kathmandu. It was a good road rather than the bumpy road of Kathmandu. We were on the highway to Pokhara. 

The cool fresh smell of dry leafs and the buckwheat that grew by of the nearby passing signs of country led us to ponder what the day ahead of us looked like. 

We were soon going through the Nepali music that was being played on and that Preeti laughing out loud about how the video was made with matching colours. Like both the actor wearing bright same colour attire. Also as the music changed on, the moves were same. It was difficult not to laugh then. Soon we were on our time to witness the first road jam of the trip. 

Me and Jayang, with Chris jumped off the micro and walked ahead to see what it was all about. As we moved ahead the queue of vehicles was astoundingly long and the sun did the best to irritate the travellers to sweat more and drink to the maximum of nature call.

The root of the jam as we saw was a bus being met a fatal accident a few hours ago (2-3 hours ago ). Two dead we heard as blood were being cleaned now by the police ( everything seems to be done by police. No emergency staff or whomever is supposed to come. Salute!) The bus which now had no windows  ( all splattered into pieces on the road- it was also being cleared by the police ) was being loaded to a huge truck with help of a dozer. 

As the cleaning was going on the site ( 2 way road ) a huge no. of people were already watching with words of God and prayers on their lips to begin with. It was a common scene!

( Nepal has a very high stats of risk of being in an accident. A no. of 10-30 people die everyday in Nepal in terms of vehicle colliding and falling off track. )

Soon after a hour we were laughing again to the beat of music being played on. It was excitement then as we were much nearer to Pokhara. After 6 hours we were crossing Pokhara to Beni.

( State of Pokahara– 

What we were expecting?- As we neared Pokhara we told each other that Pokhara was much more cleaner than Kathmandu. We could use some of its air to take in more oxygen.

What was to be seen?-  A cloud of dust and smoke hunged on the air, the mountains were no more to be seen. Though the road looked much better, the smokes touched our nostrils. We hated the state where Pokhara was then! )

We soon saw the first hope of rays setting out as we finally reached Beni at time for dinner and a quick shower with bed calling in.

The next day got me to lose my belongings of……

To be continued……