July 12th, 2007
Irving, TX
It had finally happened. I got my Travel documents from INS a month back. I could finally go home to my family. The last 3 years had seemed forever not knowing whether I'd be able to go back home. The four years of college seemed to pass in a heartbeat, but the years thereafter had been a constant yearning to go back to visit my family - to be one with my childhood town. I kept replaying walking home from school. The muddy gully outside AVM during monsoon. I could still remember the smell of fresh rain. Sometimes, as I lay by myself in my apartment, I would close my eyes and imaging walking all the way from AVM to my house in Lagankhel. I would try to imaging all the details as I imagined myself walking. I remembered that one store behind the light pole where 3 sisters used to work. The youngest one used to be my favorite. I would always go in to drink a coke if she was working. One coke and shikar churot sahuni. I would sit there and have my coke and smoke while she'd be reading some book. I would pretend to look outside but every so often steal a glance at her. I wondered what she'd be doing now. I wondered if she'd still be there when I go back. I kept walking down my memory lane remembering the street vendors and shops along the way. I had fallen asleep before I had reached home many times in my imaginary walks.

I had given the news to my parents as soon as I had received the Travel documents. My mother's voice had shaken when she said she couldn't wait to see me. I had kept in touch with my parents pretty frequently at least once a month. Everytime I talked to them on the phone there was nothing new. After I had graduated from school, I started sending money to support them since my father's income was barely enough to survive. I wanted them to live without feeling a need for money now that I was able to save some money every month. Every once in a while they had guest over when I called on the phone and I was happy to note that my parents seem to be doing well socially.

For a son like me toiling the soils of the US, everything seemed to be normal back home. Being the only son, I felt my duty to be supporting my parents and not being able to visit them was gnawing at the back of my mind. Finally, my indian boss decided to take my fate in his hand as he agreed to sponsor me for the coveted green card. I had worked at Sukinder's place part time halfway into college to support my tuition. Finally after graduation I was promoted to Manager position at the 'Dhaba cum Convenient Store'. Sukinder was not thrilled at my leaving for a month but as we had known each other for 5 years, we had developed some kind of connection, and he could not say no to my request.

July 12th, 5 PM
Two of my friends Navin and Anil dropped me off at the Dallas Forth Worth airport. It was a very different and unknown feeling that crept over me as I said bye to them. My lungs felt like a balloon and I could hear every breath I took as I walked down the boardwalk to the plane. After few hours of flight, I dozed off and when I woke up I felt like a child who was just about to get a new toy. I would actually be giving presents to my friends and family when I get there. One of my two suitcases was full of gifts to my extended family. Every so often, my mother would say that so and so's son came back from Australia/UK/USA and his/her mom gave me a nail polish and a shirt for father. I bet my parents have a lot of social debts to pay when I get there. That's why I made sure I had plenty of things to give away. In fact I believe there is more satisfaction in giving than receiving.

The layovers seemed to last forever and I was apprehensive at every stop that I would miss my connecting flight. I was afraid I would fall asleep and miss my flight. So I never ventured too far from the departing terminal.



July 14th, 2007.

Reached Kathmandu at 1:30 PM. It took forever to get out of customs. Following Murphy's Law, my luggage was the last to arrive. Every chance I got, I looked outside to see if I could get a glance of my parents and anyone else who had come to pick me up. After nearly 2 hours of landing I was able to step outside and breathe in Nepali air. I took a deep breath and to my amusement and displeasure kids/porters started grabbing at my luggage saying they wanted to take it to the car. Just at that moment I saw my parents who came forward. One of my uncles took hold of my suitcases and told the porters to go away. My father came forward and hugged me. That was the only time I had seen tears in his eyes. Mother cried a lot more and wouldn't let go of me. We hailed a mini bus taxi and it went past the streets. I had my head stuck to the window the whole time trying to get as much a view as possible of the land that I had missed so much.

Having been used to the vastness of Dallas area, the roads seemed so narrow and I felt like the taxi was going to hit someone along the way. Finally reached home sweet home.

There were some other people in the house and it seemed like a small gathering was in order to celebrate my arrival. There was a moustached man and few others who seemed like they were from the villages. My father greeted the moustached man and said "Sir this is my son RB." I was taken aback. Who is this guy that my father is referring to as sir. He came forward and gave me his hand. "I'm Comrade Aakash"

I was like "huh" "what". I looked at my father with questioning eyes. Comrade Aakash stepped forward, "RB, me and few of my comrades are sharing this house with your parents. I must be shocking but this is how it is."

I was aghast. Shock was not the correct word. I was angry for a second but then scared once the concept sinked in. "So how long are you going to stay here." I asked him. "We don't have any plans to leave. What do you have in your bag?". My dreamy 2 days worth of ravel to my home country was shatterred within 3 hours of my arrival. I could not believe this would happen to my family.

Comrade Aakash opened my suitcases and passed some of the shirts and tshirts to his other comrades. He took the watch that I had bought for my father. He opened my laptop case. "Call Comrade Manish" he ordered. Comrade Manish looked like he just came to kathmandu with his polyester pant and oiled hair. "This is a new model Dell Laptop sir. There are emails and many personal files here." I pulled the laptop from his hand and said, "This contains private information." My father looked at me in fear and said just let them. I was not ready to hand over my laptop. Then suddenly Comrade Aakash whipped out a pistol and looked at me menacingly. "You don't want to go against us. We will kill your parents in front of you and we will kill you."

Things started going round and round in my head. Think think what should I do? I reallized there was no point resisting them. I thought I will try to understand them and get in a good terms with them and try to make it work instead of creating problems. I thought of how quickly my freedom had been wiped out from my existence right in front of my eyes. My eyes watered to see my family in prison in their own house.

Comrade Aakash pointed the gun at my father and "Don't ever try to resist us otherwise you will not like the consequences." There was nothing I could do besides give him what he wanted.

It was a very heart wrenching episode. I was so sad and unhappy. How could it happen to my loved ones. Why my parents out of so many other families. Then I thought that it's possible that it is happening in many other families but noone knows about it. I felt anguish that little by little they have seeped into our lives and now they have even taken over the little thing we had called our family.

The sadness was unbearable. That is probably why I woke up drenched in sweat and misery. It felt so real. It was yet another one of those dreams that I would write about someday.

man i thought it was a real thing.

good one. Marmik chha.

म्यान, कस्तो स्कारी लेखेको यस्तो, एक पछी अर्को ड्रीम्स
बाई द वे, हाभ यु रेद दी इनहेरितेन्स् अफ् लस्? (द पार्त व्हेन् द सन गेत्स रबद व्हाईल रीतर्निङ फ्रम अंम्रिका तु दार्जीलिङ)

The previous one that you wrote, I read it as a real life experience. That was good.
This one, I read it as a fiction and was even better.

Keep it up RB. Like I said before, if yu keep treating us with stories like this, I dont mind yu having nightmares.

रातो भालेजी,
बडा राम्रो लेखन र कथन छ। ती तीतो घट्नाहरु मात्र सपना होइनन्, धेरै वा थोरैले अहिले नि भोग्दैछन्। भोली तिनै रातो रिबन लाउने कथित क्रन्तिकारीहरुको शासन ब्यबस्था आए भने घर घरको कहानी बन्ने छ।

भो यस्तो तर्साउने अवास्तविक कथा नलेखौ । भोलि कसैले यस्तै वास्तविकता भोग्यो भने पनि शायद काल्पनिक पो हो कि भन्ठान्ने र संबेदना मर्ने स्थिति आउने छ ।

"बाघ आयो बाघ आयो" भन्दै चिच्याएर रमाइलो गर्दा कालेले धोका पाएको बालकथाले दिने नैतिक शिक्षा सम्झिने हो कि ?

I agree with Chanaa_tarkarai.

Bhaley bro, looks like you've been eating too much 'piro' chilli stuff before going to bed, no wonder you're seeing all those nightmares (as per my mom's reasonings a long-long time ago). Thank goodness, this time the dude who dropped you off at the Dallas airport didn't shoot and kill you. Hahahaaahh Maybe the Moabadi would've...And it would've been another of your after death narration ala Biggie/Tupac albums.

Nice read and I must say it has improved a lot from the last one...And the humor, nothing else delights me more than witnessing the commies made fun of. Hahaahaa Keep going and I hope to read more of your works. Thanks.

"Ain't nothing that beats free entertainment!"

Ratobhale awesome story.

.

Bhaleyjyu - Dream more often re kya! Enjoyed it throughly.

Damn!! I thought it was real until the last line.
Good one bro :)

Oh ! God! I thought it was real !!!

Thank you for ignoring the typos and grammatical errors. I had the dream few months back but wrote it in one sitting (45 minutes) at the sajha browser yesterday. I wish I could plan my writings a little more.

Thanks for leaving comments on the narration of my nightmare. Some parts are fictiticious but the gist is understood. I had this dream right after one of my friends house got looted by the maoists. Thanks punte damai, latoboy, gahugoro, saan dai, spit fire, flip flop, sahayog, rahulbhai gogol, chana, uptown and samsara for reading it and commenting on it. Samsara thanks for the encouragement as always bud. Let me add a few lines on the commies for your entertainment.

One small correction I want to make is that I want to change the name of Comrade Aakash to Comrade Chana just for the heck of it. It sounds better anyways. It humors me to see that Comrade Chana even wants to control someones nightmare.

कोमरेद प्रभो, सपना भनेको अवास्तबिक नै हुन्छ। अब सपना पनि नदेख्ने हो कि? एस्तो गर्ने हो कि? त्यस्तो गर्ने हो कि? दन्त्य कथा को नैतीकताको नै बोध गर्नु पर्ने हो कि? इत्यादी इत्यादी गन्थन अनी दन्त्य कथा सम्झाएर कोमरेद हरुले गाउंलेहरुलाई जस्तै हाम्लाई पनि
तर्साउने काम चै नगरौंकी भन्ने मेरो भनाइ छ। कि कसो कोमरेद बाबु साहेब? त्यस्तो दन्त्ये कथालाई आफ्नो मल्द्वारमा कोचे नै बेश होल जस्तो लाग्छ। कि कसो ए मेरा गाउंले साथीहरु

In as much jest as the reality of my nightmare.

Comrade Chana

अझ थपेर
I want to change the name of Comrade Aakash to Comrade Chana just for the heck of it रे,

लौ रातोभाले ले जात देखाइहाल्यो । दिमागि तरङ्गलाइ मलद्वारमा कोच्ने भाषा बोल्न थालेसिन थप के कुरा गराइ भो र । तैपनि यति भनिहालुँ ।

लेखाइ सलल बगेकै थियो, तर्साउन सम्मन तर्साएकै थियो, वास्तविक कथाको दर्दनाक चित्रण भन्ठान्दा अन्त्यमा सपना अरे । कत्रो धोका ? म मात्र हो र, latoboy, gogol, flip, spitfire, saan_dai and many other who read it silently, सपै तर्सिए र हिस्स परे । यस किसिमका अवास्तविक कहानिको प्रस्तुतिकै निरन्तरता हुँदै जाने हो भने त्यसले निश्चितै रुपमा भोलि यस्तै समस्यामा कोहि परिहालेमा संवेदनालाइ हलुको बनाउने छ, त्यो निर्विवाद छ ।

संवेदनालाइ हलुको बनाउनाको नतिजा धेरै हदसम्म नकारात्मक हुन्छ । एउटा मान्छे अन्यायमा पर्दा आक्रोशित हुने मन सयौको नरसंहार हुँदा पनि निष्फिक्रि हुन्छ । भान्छाको चक्कुले झुक्किएर बगाएको रगत देखेर हतप्रभ हुने मन रगतमुच्छेल हत्याहिंसाको माहौलमै पनि रम्न सक्छ । एउटा घरको खाँबो भत्कँदा जुट्ने गामबासिहरु लाखौ घरबारबिहिन हुने गरी बाढीग्रस्त हुँदा पनि निश्चिन्त हुन्छ । संबेदना त्यस्तो चीज हो जो गुमेपछि फेरि फर्काउन अहँ सकिन्न ।

सपना सपना नै हो, जो कसैले देख्न सक्छ, त्यसमा कुनै कोमरेद रातोभाले वा चना वा आकाशले नियन्त्रण गर्नै सक्तैन । दन्त्य कथाको नैतिकता होइन नैतिक शिक्षालाइ बोध गर्ने हो भने त्यसले हानि होइन सबैको भलो नै गर्ने छ । साझामा यस्तो अवास्तविक कथा नलेख्ने कि भन्ने आग्रह संवेदनासित मात्र सरोकार राखेको नभै समकक्षिमाझ "हाय्् यो रातो भाले यस्तै हावादारी कथामात्र लेख्छ यार ।" भन्ने छवि नहोस भन्ने सद्भाव पनि हो भन्ने बुझ्न जरुरी छ । अथवा चनाको प्रतिक्रियाप्रति असहमति भए त्यो कुरो तथ्यगत रुपमा राखेर विवाद गर्न सकिन्थ्यो, त्यो कुनै ठुलो कुरो नै होइन ।

यति राम्रो लेख्ने खुवि भएको मान्छेले यस्तो सामान्य सद्भाव सहितको प्रतिक्रिया पनि पचाउन नसकेर Comrade Chana भन्ने उद्घोषका साथ दन्त्य कथालाइ मलद्वारमा कोच्ने भाषा बोल्नु र रातोभालेको सपनामा खराब पात्रको रुपमा उपस्थित Comrade Aakash कै ठाउँमा प्रत्यारोपण गर्ने धृष्टता गर्नु यदि ठट्टै मात्र हो भने पनि त्यो भद्दा भएन कसरी भन्ने ?

बरु यहि कथामै खराब देखिएका Comrade Aakash ले यदि रातोभालेले झै राम्रो स्कुलमा पढ्न पाएको भए, आवश्यकता पुरा गर्नसक्ने बाबा आमा पाएको भए, बिदेशमा गएर पढ्ने, राम्रो जागीर गर्ने अवसर पाएको भए त्यो मान्छे त्यसरी परपीडक बनेर बसेको नहुनु पर्ने होला शायद । तर अवसर र उपलब्धि दुबै हातमा लड्डु बोकेर, स्वतन्त्र विचारआदान गरिने समाजको प्रशंसक बनेर पनि एउटा सामान्य प्रतिक्रिया पचाउन गाह्रो मान्दै अण्टसण्ट ठट्टा गर्न अघि सरेको देख्दा मलाइ रातोभालेको चिन्तन Comrade Aakash भन्दा पनि गएगुज्रेको अवश्य लाग्यो ।

Aba yo chana tarkari lai kaachai khanu parla jasto chha. This is just a story kya…Kasto seriously liya bro le, thuk ka!! Comment on how the story was and not some analogy to the 'boy who cried wolf." These type of negative criticism just makes me feel that if this was commie Russia, I'd exile your likes to Siberia. Damn, let the bhaley (or any writer out there) post as they like and provide constructive criticism to their works to develop them as a writer...Hell, if the article bhaley wrote wasn't the truth, you could've asked him to stop the BS, but we all know and have heard of such incidents happening all around Nepal so that makes the story even more believable. All I'm saying is that this was Bhaley's best work so far and instead of smacking him down, we need to acknowledge that since we don't have that sort of story-writing talent in us, if others have it, let the dude know that he got the skillz or he got what it takes.

Damn, Don't hate, appreciate!!

Bhaley,
great great story man!
u almost got me! actually, u got me bro! i, like the others was thinking that this was real and was about to explode with anger towards comrade chana! chana is a nice name for a comrade though.
the dates you chose were all at random right? coz july 14th, the day u landed in ktm was my b'day! i was thinkin to myself my lucky day has turned out to be so unlucky for bhaley!
anyways, great writing. dont worry about the typos n grammatical errors. i dont care, as long as i can understand what you're trying to say.
waiting for another one of your stories...toot

Haha Comrade chana is funny in a sick way. He actually has excuses for the actions of Comrade Aakash who is a fictional character in my story. Maybe saying "shove it up your ass" in Nepali doesn't sound as appealing in Nepali as in English so pardon my French!

I have to admit Comrade Chana's use of Nepali language would put the Maoist Public Relations officer to shame. Congratulations on the use of Nepali language to elicit similar pathos as in a Maoist PR speech. एस्तो हो कि? त्यस्तो होकि? haha dude you're acting like you're still living in the village trying to impress and sway the villagers by your speech.

All it shows is the Maoist like intolerance that you have. Dude don't you watch movies or read books?? There are movies(stories) of Nuclear blasts or meteor collisions that destroys the whole world. There are stories of contagious diseases that wipe out the entire human race. I mean the sky is the limit as far as imaginations go and what the topic of stories can be, and here you are crying foul at some narration of a dream??? Talk about narrowminded people.

*YAWN* please don't come back with your packaged commie speeches, which may rile up Chankhe and Bijuli from the villages, but noone who appreciates freedom of thoughts and speech.

Going back to take a nap. Samsara mannn can you believe this guy? LOL.

Just wanna add that I don't despise Chankhe and bijuli from the villages for their lack of opportunities in life. The lack of education have made them easy targets easily swayed by the packaged Commie speeches and threats.

Holy smoke! I really enjoyed better than previous one thought it was real.