Third day in a row there is no office and I am sitting at home with nothing to do. Somehow yesterday and day before yesterday passed away. Actually these three days were meant for celebration for bringing in republican system in the country. Many people were enthusiastic enough to yell and shout slogans in the already hot street. The news channel kept showing the crowd shouting before the palace, asking to place the national flag in the palace. It took the whole day to put the flag and the whole country went to sleep except for some press-men expecting the night will have something for their camera.
I as usual I sat before the TV not to watch anything specific but just changing channel. In between I came across a movie where the actress misses her train and while she wanders around the small market place awed by the fact that she actually is visiting a place she had only seen through the windows of the running train. It was a small clip but enough to bring me pictures from my childhood when we used to visit our ancestral home during festival (Dashain). It looks as if ages have passed since I have had a long journey. It must have been more than ten years since I travelled in a night bus. More than visiting the place and seeing my uncles, aunts and grandparents I was always enthused about the travel. The hubbub in the bus station, people rushing from one bus to another looking for their loved ones, friends and relatives, they always excited me. Much earlier when the bus park was at Ratnapark and night buses passed through Tundikhel, I used to feel vacant and sad. I used to think as if I am leaving most precious things behind and will never see them again. Even to this day, I get this feeling if I leave home for even few days.
When the bus moved along the winding road hiding behind one hill and emerging at other, I used to feel a strange kind of pleasure. The red sun hiding behind the far mountain, the slowly extinguishing light of the day and the dimming earth, aroused so many thoughts in my rather immature mind. I cannot recollect what I used to think but I know I loved watching through the small windows while most of the people would be busy chatting among each other as if they never chatted at their homes and the bus was the idealistic place for them to talk about their life, failures and successes etc. It was strange for me to find that same journey that triggered so many thoughts inside me was of no interest to my fellow companions. May be as grown ups they have had so many other things to think about. During dashain frequently our bus paved its way through small hamlets and the kids would be enjoying the swing their parents or the community would have set up for them. To see a swing moving from one end to other, reaching high at ends and almost touching the ground in the middle gave me goose bumps. I always believed the sight was symbolic as if someone wanted to show me something but I could never find what it was. I was never fond of swings in fact I feared it but to see somebody else rising high and low was always a pleasant sight. The move just above the mighty Narayani River was like a challenge one would love to take. The green river competed with the bus as if the winner will get a medal if reached the destination before others. I wanted to win. Without any specific reason I would think ‘our bus’. ‘We’ should win the race. Why did ‘we’ took over ‘I’, I don’t know? I never liked the hills much. I loved the houses, I loved the tiny rural kids watching us with a mocking look as if they wanted to know where were we going and when will we place there. May be their eyes bullied us that there home was just few yards away while we have hundreds of mile to go. Though electricity has enlightened those small huts today, those days small lantern greeted us. One would mistake the lantern for a firefly which has stopped for a while out of confusion over the direction. Those lanterns were overpowered with the darkness of night. They looked so inept that they couldn’t even light a single room. Because of no light people ate early and so went to bed early. Even in our ancestral home there was no electricity and by 7:00 PM we would all be asleep.
Slowly nothing would be visible; the only thing one would hear would be the monotonous sound of the bus and sometime the roaring of the river. If one was to look ahead he/she would see the part of the road which the helpless headlight was capable of lighting. Inside the bus, slowly the people would have fallen asleep. Kids cuddled in the arm of their parents and young couples cuddled with each other. My excitement would not have settled, I watched shadow. Very soon we will be at Munglin where buses would stop for evening meal. Because we never used to eat outside our home to have meal at Munglin was part of the fun. But I always feared if we would miss the bus. I loved moving past Munglin through the thick jugles and wide road. I always expected in no time some wild animal will stand before us. I loved walking past everything, everyone never knowing whether we were moving or the world was moving against us but for sure Narayani River was there still in competition. Then Hetauda would come where the buses would stop for a while. Usually it would be midnight. From Muglin till Hetauda one would have to walk in the darkness all along and when one would get to a small station at Hetauda, people seemed active asking people for tea, cold drinks. May be they are the fireflies in the human form. Like in our textbook’s story where the character would finally land up in an inhabited land after a lengthy tour across the dry Sahara desert. Slowly the deep asleep people would come to life and there would be murmurs and temporary talks. Soon we will be in the expanse Terai. It wondered me that even in this mid night few houses would be lit. I wondered what would be the people doing at this odd hour. I liked terai, it looked at me so powerful and mighty. Slowly the earth would rise from its bed and the sun must be readying itself to greet the earth. The light is so precious at dawn rather than in the day possibly its less in amount and soothing in nature. The morning would come just like the way the day had faded away yesterday. Slowly birds would be seen sitting in the electric wire that ran from one pole to next. To see a waking day is such a pleasant experience. Soon the people quietly asleep in the bus would rise would up with murmuring break. Soon the ‘chaiwalas’ would knock all the windows asking the passenger if they want tea. Very soon the others will follow with coconuts, nuts etc. I loved to get down at every place the bus would stop and knowing its place. It used to feel good when friends at school, used to ask about the places I have visited and I would say Dhading, Munglin, Narayanghat, Hetauda, Pathlaiya, Lahan, Janakpur, Inaruwa etc. just because we walked past those areas on my way to our ancestral home in Jhapa. In between I wondered how those places would look if I had to actually visit those places in the day. It would be a fun if I were to visit those places just the way the actress of the movie did.
I as usual I sat before the TV not to watch anything specific but just changing channel. In between I came across a movie where the actress misses her train and while she wanders around the small market place awed by the fact that she actually is visiting a place she had only seen through the windows of the running train. It was a small clip but enough to bring me pictures from my childhood when we used to visit our ancestral home during festival (Dashain). It looks as if ages have passed since I have had a long journey. It must have been more than ten years since I travelled in a night bus. More than visiting the place and seeing my uncles, aunts and grandparents I was always enthused about the travel. The hubbub in the bus station, people rushing from one bus to another looking for their loved ones, friends and relatives, they always excited me. Much earlier when the bus park was at Ratnapark and night buses passed through Tundikhel, I used to feel vacant and sad. I used to think as if I am leaving most precious things behind and will never see them again. Even to this day, I get this feeling if I leave home for even few days.
When the bus moved along the winding road hiding behind one hill and emerging at other, I used to feel a strange kind of pleasure. The red sun hiding behind the far mountain, the slowly extinguishing light of the day and the dimming earth, aroused so many thoughts in my rather immature mind. I cannot recollect what I used to think but I know I loved watching through the small windows while most of the people would be busy chatting among each other as if they never chatted at their homes and the bus was the idealistic place for them to talk about their life, failures and successes etc. It was strange for me to find that same journey that triggered so many thoughts inside me was of no interest to my fellow companions. May be as grown ups they have had so many other things to think about. During dashain frequently our bus paved its way through small hamlets and the kids would be enjoying the swing their parents or the community would have set up for them. To see a swing moving from one end to other, reaching high at ends and almost touching the ground in the middle gave me goose bumps. I always believed the sight was symbolic as if someone wanted to show me something but I could never find what it was. I was never fond of swings in fact I feared it but to see somebody else rising high and low was always a pleasant sight. The move just above the mighty Narayani River was like a challenge one would love to take. The green river competed with the bus as if the winner will get a medal if reached the destination before others. I wanted to win. Without any specific reason I would think ‘our bus’. ‘We’ should win the race. Why did ‘we’ took over ‘I’, I don’t know? I never liked the hills much. I loved the houses, I loved the tiny rural kids watching us with a mocking look as if they wanted to know where were we going and when will we place there. May be their eyes bullied us that there home was just few yards away while we have hundreds of mile to go. Though electricity has enlightened those small huts today, those days small lantern greeted us. One would mistake the lantern for a firefly which has stopped for a while out of confusion over the direction. Those lanterns were overpowered with the darkness of night. They looked so inept that they couldn’t even light a single room. Because of no light people ate early and so went to bed early. Even in our ancestral home there was no electricity and by 7:00 PM we would all be asleep.
Slowly nothing would be visible; the only thing one would hear would be the monotonous sound of the bus and sometime the roaring of the river. If one was to look ahead he/she would see the part of the road which the helpless headlight was capable of lighting. Inside the bus, slowly the people would have fallen asleep. Kids cuddled in the arm of their parents and young couples cuddled with each other. My excitement would not have settled, I watched shadow. Very soon we will be at Munglin where buses would stop for evening meal. Because we never used to eat outside our home to have meal at Munglin was part of the fun. But I always feared if we would miss the bus. I loved moving past Munglin through the thick jugles and wide road. I always expected in no time some wild animal will stand before us. I loved walking past everything, everyone never knowing whether we were moving or the world was moving against us but for sure Narayani River was there still in competition. Then Hetauda would come where the buses would stop for a while. Usually it would be midnight. From Muglin till Hetauda one would have to walk in the darkness all along and when one would get to a small station at Hetauda, people seemed active asking people for tea, cold drinks. May be they are the fireflies in the human form. Like in our textbook’s story where the character would finally land up in an inhabited land after a lengthy tour across the dry Sahara desert. Slowly the deep asleep people would come to life and there would be murmurs and temporary talks. Soon we will be in the expanse Terai. It wondered me that even in this mid night few houses would be lit. I wondered what would be the people doing at this odd hour. I liked terai, it looked at me so powerful and mighty. Slowly the earth would rise from its bed and the sun must be readying itself to greet the earth. The light is so precious at dawn rather than in the day possibly its less in amount and soothing in nature. The morning would come just like the way the day had faded away yesterday. Slowly birds would be seen sitting in the electric wire that ran from one pole to next. To see a waking day is such a pleasant experience. Soon the people quietly asleep in the bus would rise would up with murmuring break. Soon the ‘chaiwalas’ would knock all the windows asking the passenger if they want tea. Very soon the others will follow with coconuts, nuts etc. I loved to get down at every place the bus would stop and knowing its place. It used to feel good when friends at school, used to ask about the places I have visited and I would say Dhading, Munglin, Narayanghat, Hetauda, Pathlaiya, Lahan, Janakpur, Inaruwa etc. just because we walked past those areas on my way to our ancestral home in Jhapa. In between I wondered how those places would look if I had to actually visit those places in the day. It would be a fun if I were to visit those places just the way the actress of the movie did.
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