The Macbook Story

I know you won’t bother asking me why I bought this second hand Macbook for such a high price and call me stupid even before I try to explain, but it’s okay and I totally understand.

If you’re a Nepali you will understand the price. I bought a second hand Macbook Air for 1 while I could have ordered an another brother of mine coming to Nepal from the US  to bring a new one to me for 1.25, but I didn’t. I’ll tell you why. The brother from whom I bought this Macbook is someone I care for and thats why. He’s had small jobs for quite some time and now he has a son with no solid earning foundation.

He had told me he had plans to open a clothing store but he had no money. I know I’m the decades younger brother here, but I knew I could help him by buying his Macbook which is only a luxury for him, so I bought it at a high price because he needed that money. I care about my brother and thats why I bought it. He’s been there for me in some of my most memorable moments as a kid so yes, why not give him a heads up to start his business. He’s doing fine now. He opened a shop as he had planned. It’s a cute little shop which he opened by partnering with one his friends in Naya Bazar, and its in walking distance. Honestly speaking, I don’t visit him s much because I’m usually busy but I know the business is doing good. It’s still new and more people are still trying to locate the place but its cool.

I don’t know if he knows what I’ve done for him but he is grateful that I could provide him some extra funds to open his shop. He’s my brother and we’re connected by blood, we don’t say we love each other, we show.

Goa head, make somebody life. I try it to do it everyday.


“We are all here on earth to help others; what on earth the others are here for I don’t know.”

I’m just an ordinary man trying to find a way to make this world a better place. As for making my world a better place, I’ve got my angels.

In trying to find the meaning of life, I’ve figured out that materialism is the things that least work out. The purpose of my life is to make this world a better place which is home to everyone living and dead; animal and plants; friends and foes; family and stranger. I don’t have a lot of friends, but those here with me are worth keeping close to myself.

Some simply tell me I write well when it’s horse-shit. Some simply like my tweets. Some stay by my side when I’m deeply broken inside. Some smile and make tea for me. Some pull me by the arms to take a selfie. Some simply give me a call. Some bring me gifts every time we meet after a long time. Some change the playlist when I’m around to play the songs I like. Some care about mother nature. Some enlighten me with their words. Some motivate me. Some are simply nice. Some simply write poems to brighten up my day. Some simply say it’s okay. Some say it’s time for me to go to bed and say goodnight. They can just exist and make me smile.

They simply care.

They’re close to me and they’re far. Some I’ve seen and some I don’t know when I’ll meet. They’re not there for me every time, but they’re there for me when I need them to be. They’re selfless and they listen. They make a normal day extraordinary. They show me that love is all you need.

Talking about assholes, it’s best not to be one. There’s no place for selfish people.

Try to make a difference, try to be the difference. Make this world a better place for you, me and everyone sharing the world as it is. Be human and become somebody’s angel. Share your stories and give them hope. Be honest and polite. Be good and be yourself. Make their day because true happiness presents itself when you share.

Let them know that they’ve made the difference.

Picture by Jonathan Kos-Read via @flickr

The graduation story

Until yesterday afternoon, I was thinking of not attending my own graduation ceremony. I have reasonable answers to the whys.

For me, this graduation ceremony isn’t very special. It would have meant more to me if I’d liked college, the time spent there; the three years. It’s not a place where I could call it home. There are not many memorable moments associated with it. I had some awesome group of friends, but all these moments of glory happened outside of the college. The educational institution could never keep me satisfied, especially cause it did not live up to the standards I’d expected.

We were told lies, one after another. These charade words did not even affect them too much. These lies ranged from the total cost of the education to the quality of education. I do not question the qualification of the lecturers, but they certainly didn’t make good teachers. I felt cheated and honestly didn’t learn much from the institution. All I was doing was printing long pages of my assignment, studying for the exams and not surfacing stuff that would get me interested. For me, I achieved a degree of education, not knowledge.

I am not proud of my degree and not content even when I know that a degree in computing has good scoped for employment in the future. So I told my mom that I did not want to attend the ceremony of these people who are just capitalists and only drenching money for the last time, but I came to know of things left unsaid.

Mother seems to be more excited about me graduating than I was. For me, the degree is all but a piece of paper that makes life a little easier. For my mother, it means a little more. It means her son has completed the hurdles of the general system, at an age 10 years before she accomplished herself. It kind of left me in a sad state to see my mother infuriated of my hesitation to attend the ceremony. If I had felt connected to my college, friends and teachers like my alma mater, I would not have thought so, but the plot came to an amazing twist.

The next morning my mother’s sister came to me and said things that would instantly change the way I see education. We live in a society where we accept everyone’s effort to make a daily life. The cobbler fixes my shoe, the milkman brings milk for me and I make websites and systems for people to use in their personal life or business. We all live like different elements in nature co-existing with each other, always transforming, making bonds, combining, splitting up and creating life. Though I would like to revolt against the system, this ceremony was more than just about me.

My mother dreams of getting a photograph of me with that hat, scarf, and cloak with a big fat smile. She wants to hang a picture like everyone else in my family has at home. I never thought about it. It still isn’t something that I really want, but it’s something that would make my mother happy. If she’s happy, I’m happy. Kapish. My aunts and uncles have traveled all the way from Nepal to countries mostly like Australia and The United States of America, flying over an entire ocean to see their sons and daughters graduate while I was refusing to attend it. Like a warm reception, it’s just a pleasant goodbye.

To be honest, it can only be a glorious moment. Most (not all) of my friends who have graduated will be there. My parents will be there to see the ceremony and it is yet another milestone of my career, earning a bachelor’s degree B.Sc (Hons) in Computing at the age of 20. I’ll be seeing my friends parents as well and perhaps my mom and dad could meet some of their old friends and relatives too and share a laugh maybe.

Happiness is contagious. Share the laugh.

The part that made me sob while I saw my mom smile is yet to come. I know for a fact that my mother has an educational degree herself, but I have never seen a picture of her graduation. As my aunt recalls, it was my fault. At the time when my mom had her graduation ceremony, I was born. I was the reason my mother could not attend her graduation ceremony. I feel sad about it, but I know that my entry to this world meant more to her than missing out on celebrating her graduation. As for me, I’ve come to different conclusions.

The reason my eyes are wet is because this is not the first time that my mother has sacrificed something for me. She has sacrificed for me countless times. She has been there taking care of me ever since I was born and till this day, cooking pretty much every meal, washing clothes, paying the internet bills, getting me a laptop, a scooter, paying for my school fees, taking me to hospital after an accident, calling me every day when I haven’t reached home after sunset and this list is endless; you name it.

So I’ll try and be not so emotional about it and I have a brilliant idea. Mom and I are going to a photo concern this Saturday to click a photo of her in a gown with a certificate in her hand, 20 years after her graduation. I would like to see a picture of my mother who graduated as well. The interesting thing is that I’ll get to tell people that my mother and I wore the same gown while we graduated. This is so emotional for me, but I’m happy; almost exploding with emotion.

Oh, how wonderful life is, full of stories and surprises. It’s never too late to raise a smile. 🙂

Blissful brothers

Well I grew up in Ombahal, a courtyard close to the Basantapur Durbar Square. It wasn’t my home but it was my mother’s home before she got married and moved out to where my home is close to Khusibu.

It’s a fascinating place. There’s a small temple of Lord Ganesh right in the middle with a gajur for which it is renowned locally. But the best part about it was the family members that lived. My eldest mama has three sons and they have been really helpful to me since very early on in my childhood. I have my reasons why they were specifically more helpful than the rest.

As a kid, I used to go to a school far from home, one without a school bus. On a usual day my dad would pick me up but while he was away, it was my brothers who did so. I’d go their rooms and check out the CD collection and listen to their music. They weren’t fantastic cooks so I had Rara a lot in this days. Sometimes they would bring pizza or on other days I simply sat back an enjoyed listening to the harmonica.

They really wanted me to grow. I was being taught how to ride a bike. I know that they taught me how to walk. I learnt to make tea with them. I used to go around the neighbourhood to their friends and make hideous drawings of Kali. They were the coolest. And about their bike collection, WOW those classic Honda’s.

I’ve had my moments when they encouraged me that I was smart. They said it does not matter even if I fail or if I’m an under achiever. They convinced me to be a free thinker and go with the heart and work hard to achieve the greater glories of life. At some point we always struggle but I could always pick myself up because of my blissful brothers. I tried to copy them you know. Wearing their caps, posing wearing their jackets and putting on their deo. Jeez. There’s plenty more I did.

I often messed around in their computer. I came across both good and bad music. They would often get me a copy of the music I liked. Above all they took good care of me. It was love that they showed. I could possibly repay them. Not just these brothers I’m s taking about but all of them and my sisters too. But life isn’t about repaying the debt. It’s not bloody capitalism.

I hope I can repay my nephews and nieces for the great deeds their parents have done for me, an even more. As I feel, time is the greatest gift you can offer someone. I’ll be there for them if they need me. Ever ready. As for now, I smile like a fool for all the times I messed up their rooms.