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200G Love Story

By Aashish Bhetwal






Prolouge

Kissing is good for teeth. The anticipation of a kiss increases the flow of saliva to the mouth, giving the teeth a plaque-dispersing bath. Hence, I loved to kiss. The prime reason was also that I was the greatest admirer of Emraan Hashmi, the so called sex icon of Bollywood. He was considered an obstacle to the social civilization but now the western culture has drained out such mentality from each brain. Now you might really be wondering if I loved to kiss, how often did i? And the major question arises, to whom? Don’t worry folks, each question shall be answered. It was not my intension of Kissing that Monday afternoon . U might be wondering why? But the answer is crystal clear to me- because I was in love, indeed a true love for the second time! I wasn’t sure whether I should be cheering her up or I should be leaving her on her own. My heart said I should cheer her up because I could never see sadness on her face. I had always tried in every situation to cheer her up as far as I could but I don’t still understand why I never succeeded. My Genius brain (friend say so) suggested me to leave her on her own because she was truly upset that very morning. I was such an idiot, I didn’t hear of my brain. I thought my heart was hers and I continuously cracked various jokes and said her lots of stuffs which finally didn’t cheer her up but made the situation even worst. She was more upset. Finally I handed her over to her best friend, Usha, whom I trusted to hand over my girlfriend. Valentine’s week was making Kathmandu city, the sixth cheapest city of the world, very exciting. It was KISS day. After four days quarrel in the early Valentine’s week, we were finally back in relationship. Being a 12th grade student and a sportsman, I was to attend a cricket match that day but continuous disappearance from the attendance book of my class, prevented me to enjoy the game. I really didn’t care because she was present on the field. I thought to ask my girlfriend for a date but knowing that she is still upset, I stopped myself. I dialed her number saved as "Pyaari" in my mobile phone which I just bought few days back. She rejected my call. I thought she did that unintentionally and tried her the next time and alas! The same thing. After my frequent dials, she finally picked it up! “hey, where are you?” “hmm.. I am out with my friends!” “my college administrator scolded me so much, I am so down. Let’s go somewhere… I want to spend some time with you!” “Sorry! I am with my friends. I’m going out with them. Can’t meet you now.” “Ok then, I am going home! What should I be doing here?” “As you wish!” The phone hooked up. After 1 hour, “Pyaari, I want to meet you only for 5 minutes. Please don’t say no. Last 5 minutes and I shall never disturb you!” “hmm…. Ok! Fine. ONLY 5 minutes.” I went to a grocer nearby. My cell phone beeped showing the message of deficit balance. I had to recharge my phone. I bought a 100 rs recharge card of NTC. Recharged my cell phone, and got out of the shop. After walking some steps, I knew what the consequence would be today. I stepped back to the shop, handed a 5 Rs. Note to the shopkeeper and asked him for a blade! “Hi Pyaari! Why are you so much upset today?” “ I Don’t know!” “ Any problem?” “Aghh… Why did you call me here? You said 5 minutes, 2 minutes have already gone.” “I want to go out with you! Lets go!” “No. I am not going anywhere with you!” “What? Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and you are not BUNKING your college. You promised to give me today!” “No, I don’t want to be with you.” “Sorry?” “I never loved you! Every time you come near me, my head bursts of anger! Please, I beg you, LEAVE ME ALONE!” She walked away without even once turning back. How could I let her go? She was the one whom I loved very much, much more than my own life. All those moments, we cherished together played on my brain as a scene from the movie. Even though I couldn’t let her go, I even couldn’t stop her. I saw her, until she disappeared from the turning, and suddenly it was like the world crashed down. I could visualize nothing. I slid my hands in my pocket, grabbed out the 5 Rs. BLADE which I just bought from the shop! I wondered if the 5 rs blade would make me forget that 5 Minutes which just passed. I could feel the sharpness of the BLADE on my palm but remembering her sweet smile, made me forget every pain. I stood on the middle of the road, eyes fixed on the point she vanished hoping that she would return and hand slowly and slowly bleeding…..

Chapter 1
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A hope was born
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I still don’t know whether my parents had a love marriage or arranged. One of my sisters says me they were deeply in love; they both entered the valley for further studies and in the course of time were close to each other. But one of my uncles says that there wasn’t love between them; the marriage was arranged. Thus, I concluded that, they were in love at first and then married to each other after the approval from both families. I called it an Arranged Love Marriage!
“I only had 5 Rs. With me which only lasted till the moment I got out of the bus at Koteshwor!” says my father frequently and obviously proudly, sitting on a sofa in one of the well- furnished rooms of his bungalow. My dad had entered the valley after his SLC, to search his fate in the so-called only city of that time. My dad at that time was as I am today, lean and thin, a moustache slightly trimmed and beard on face. “Do well and always be on top!” added he.
“As if you always were!” My mom interrupted serving him a cup of tea. My mom is indeed very beautiful. She is tall, fair complex and a smile never leaves her face. My mom, came to valley, the same time when my dad entered the city. She was here for national tournament of athletics. My mom was a runner in her mid and late teens; though still she runs behind each of my activities.
Mom and dad met first in the city, they had friendship and so on and on. It might have also been the impact of romantic Bollywood cinemas, which were screened in the theaters at their time. Life is not a movie. It is a live drama sequentially and naturally performed with no retakes. The traditional and conservative society in both the families would prevent them for Love affairs. So after some year’s relationship, they decided to formally dig a way for their togetherness.
Dad and Mom struggled a lot to establish themselves in this selfish city. And listening them today, I feel, it was a real hard time! Survival was the only thing they longed for.
I exactly don’t know about which professions did they start their career with but whatever they did led them to a dignified life.
Continuity to generation is what parents seek from their son. And my parents couldn’t be the exception. Though the time was real hard, I was the need. It was 8 pm, Friday, 5th of June, 1993, that I first saw this selfish world (though I don’t remember!). It was a lunar eclipse that day. I was born a few moment later the eclipse got over also leaving a scar on my body; the symbol of its existence. The family priest symbolized my birth a very special one because he was impressed with my timing.
There was a pride on the face of my parents; maybe they hoped for something good now. The arrival of mine made my parents more responsible and more concentrated.
The poverty was around the neck and the struggle reached the peak. And it is obvious that A HOPE WAS BORN… in this form!

Chapter 2
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A Lovely Child
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You may be wondering how I could remember all these days but I didn't. These all are what I heard from my parents and other relatives. Life is the art of drawing without an eraser. As per the Hindu rituals, after my name keeping ceremony (nwaaran), I was taken to my village, Kavre. Thus, after the 11th day of my birth, there was a distance between me and my parents. I was taken there for my better care and LOVE!
Five months stay at Kavre made me strong as I daily got massaged with pure mustard oil and a lot of grandmother’s love. But it is not always as it is. Parents love their child much more than anything else. My parents came and took me back to Kathmandu but couldn't devote much more time to me. Once more, I had to leave them or they left me. I was taken to my maternal’s uncle house, far-west of Nepal. I believe I supported for internal tourism at such a small age as I was made to travel various places.
My parents came back to city leaving me back there with my grandparents and aunts. They loved me a lot. “Time is the greatest medicine, it heals any wounds!” I, soon forgot my parents and started calling my grandfather “buwa” and grandmother “aamaa”.
I constantly kept on being sick. I had a continuous fever almost every night. My aunts say that they gave the hope of my survival. The local compounder of a small clinic of that very small city used to check me up. It can be said that my childhood was safe because of his medicines.
There used to be no work at all. My aunts loved small girls and though being a boy, I used to be the target! I used to be dressed up like a girl and then they used to take me to various corners of the community for a walk. Everyone used to love me because of my very sweet face in my childhood. I miss it now, the memories and also the sweet face!
Though every kid used to play with all artificial toys which could be bought in the market, I was exception once more. I used to grab all the utensils from the kitchen and act as if I am cooking something. Then after some continuous effort of preparing a delicious meal virtually, I used to serve it to various members of my house. My grandmother still recalls, “You used to prepare tea. Then, u would serve it to all other members in the cup and used to provide me an additional tea-plate. On the question of why that extra plate provided, your love would be seen as u didn’t want the hot tea to burn my tongue.”
Seema, was only my childhood friend, with whom, I used to share about three-fourth of my day. We used to play each game together, and then would have breakfast, lunch and dinner together. My aunts used to remark us as a couple (though at that time, I didn’t understand!)
My mom and dad visited me once a year but I could never recognize them. Their visit would be short and the memory of their presence would always erase very soon. My grandmother says that I never called them mom and dad. I called them “Kathmanduwala”. And today I can feel what it really feels in the heart of parents when their son denies even to talk with them.
I also remember that I used to roam around with a cow. I even used to take it for some walk. We had a very close relation. It was as if like the cow understood all my languages and so did I.
My parents felt that the small place would not be able to give a proper education to me. Thus, my parents came to take me back. But I didn’t want to go. It had already been around three years that I stayed with my grandparents. “I don’t want to leave you. Why do they want to take me to Kathmandu? I don’t want to go!” I insisted. But the small hands and legs of mine could not fight them back. At last, I had to come back with my so-called mom and dad. Everybody was sad to let me go. The eyes which saw me happy all the time were filled with tears, tears that was about to break us apart!
As, I stepped out of the house, with my mom and dad, I could see Seema standing behind a tree, silent as usual. Then, I heard the mooing of the cow, my cow. I went near her. There were tears in her eyes and even I couldn’t resist. That was the former goodbye to the place and every of its attachments where I spent my splendid childhood!

Chapter 3
Kathmandu Sucks! Part-I
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It had already been about three months that I had been brought back to Kathmandu but my mind was always with my grandparents at the far west corner of the country. It’s not that my parents didn’t try to wipe those memories. They bought everything I desired for. Many toys and chocolates would always be around me but these anti-memories tricks would never cover my deepest emotional attachment with my Grandparents, my Cow and my Seema!
Kathmandu was really big for my little eyes. I remember my grandfather saying, "Yes, big city with small people, at least in thoughts." Soon, i started being Kathmanduwala. The lights of the city and the fast-pace made me become one of them. We used to live at Gwarko and I was admitted to a local school in my locality.
The Rising School, had its own playground and three buildings; primary, lower secondary and secondary! Seema used to say me, "Ashish, do you know the schools in Kathmandu has a big building?" And she used to try to show the length of the building standing on the chair, assuming, it really was high as in her imagination. BIG BUILDING! Yes, i was standing in front of those big buildings! I was really afraid of my mom from very beginning. One of my brothers used to drop me to the school. I used to cry a lot asking him not to take me to the school. At the very entrance of my school, I used to grab the leg of my brother like anything! The peon had a hard time to take me in at my class. But, when it was mom dropping me to school, I would be the best disciplined student any school can ever have.What an actor i was and am till now. And that was the routine followed by me, my brother, my mom and the witness, peon!
My mom and dad once took me on a visit to Newroad and local area. I saw a toy on a shop which my parents refused to buy. They still remember me running on the streets which made them very hard to catch me up. I was damn pigheaded from my early childhood.
The results of the terminal examinations would bring blissful state of affair at my home since I always ranked the top. I would be congratulated and I could demand anything I wished for. As a child, chocolates and toys would be my choice. Now I wonder my parents would be bankrupt if they give me a choice now, because iPhone, iPod’s, MacBook’s, sports bike and the gadgets of this century are my preferences. The continuity to success and achievement of anything I wished for was the result of such motivation; though my mother’s strictness deserves much credibility!
I was the first choice of my teachers. Whenever they had to have someone to lead the row or to present something or to collect any homework and classwork, they would choose me. I proudly say that I had leadership quality since my childhood.
Saturdays, used to be the best days of the week. For now, every day is a Saturday! I didn’t have to go to the boring schools. My dad would be home that day and I could spend a lot of time with my parents. Though I had to study as per the scheduled structure, Saturday was the day, I would dream about every other day. My dad would bring a VCR of a Bollywood movie each Saturday and a very delicious lunch was also prepared. At around mid-day, extra curtains would be hung and the room was made as if a movie theatre. Then a VCR player which was brought on rent was used to play the movie. Thus, from my early childhood, I was addicted to Indian cinemas.
I had a friend I cherished. Full-named, Reekesh Byanjankar, was my sole friend in TRS. He was a round and white faced guy. Even when I think about him today, I visualize the pencils he carried. His pencils were unique at that time. Every other student including me would use the 3 Rs Sharpner to sharp our pencils. But he would never sharp his pencils. He would bring 4-5 pencils in his well-set geometry box; all sharped. I never knew how he sharped his pencils and always wondered because the
structure of his and mine pencil would be different. Later he said me that, he uses a machine sharpner. I also wanted one but I decided not to ask it with my parents after visualizing my mom’s angry face if I would do so. Reekesh, frequently shared me his pencils and I would love to use his.
Rojesh Shrestha was one of my friends; though not close one. Also there was Rojer Maharjan. I can figure him out because he is a bit black toned skin structured. It can be regarded as that was my gang. Every class has a unique character. And mine was not an exception. Manan Bhandari was a unique guy of my class rather I would term him as a psycho. Whenever we used to play Game with girls (mostly it would be same di), he used to grab a fistful of mud and then say “Nepal aamaa ki jaya” and then run like hell.
I even had some guys in my class with whom I had enemity. Suraj Tamang and Manish Tamang, were the ones who used to dominate me. The brothers used to grab our belongings or do any other stuff which would make us suffer. Yeah, us! Reekesh also used to be their target! We frequently and boldly used to fight them back, though they had so called back support!!
Our class was not filled with gorgeous girls but it had two of them upon whom the guys would die for. (Yes, I was in class UKG and i am writing this. Don't forget my background of Indian Romantic Cinemas. ðŸ˜‰ ) I don’t know it was the effect of watching lots of Bollywood movies to me or the consequence of global warming; I was a freaking loverboy from my early age. Shiwani Shrestha was the first choice. She was the granddaughter of the principal of our school and she took part even in the “little girl contest” where she bagged first runner up. I was the 4th one to so call “love” her. Other guys, didn't say that was love but my cinematic mind made up that screenplay! She never talked to me. Well, not to other guys even. The Tamang brothers also loved her and it was heard in the class that the elder brother kissed the girl because they hid together behind the school building while playing hide and seek. The shock was much to Reekesh than to me because he was also the one to love her. That's why, I decided to sacrifice her for the sake of my friend; well, I hope u can guess the primary reason of why i left her, before even catching! A month later she left the school and we were also promoted to Grade 1.
I had no reason to worry because the second girl in the list was still available. Jasmine Nakarmi was a sweet little girl. She used to have two plates made as her hairstyle. Her sweet and attractive face could attract anyone. The major reason she was categorized number two was because she lacked a height that Shiwani possessed. Even though, it could be managed. I had a good friendship with her and it remained so till the moment I passed grade 1. You might be thinking that it changed to love. Sorry guys, I changed my school then.

Chapter 3 
Kathmandu Sucks Part 2
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My parents have had all possible struggles and after I passed grade one, and then we shifted to our own house at Chabahil. I can remember that we had shifted to four houses before moving on to our own. With the change of the house, my contact with each guy of TRS broke down. To me, it was a new life and a new beginning!
Himalaya Vidya Mandir, was the next stop. I joined HVM for grade two. When I attended the entrance test, the founder of the school was impressed with my presentation. She offered me 50% scholarship at the very beginning. The very day I entered the class for the first time, I went to sit at the first bench. But the guys of that class and even the teacher made me get up and threw me back at the last bench. I later came to know the first bench was meant to be for a guy who used to be first in the class, Prashant Bhandari. Prashant was a fat guy with curly hair and a white face. We could have had good friendship but the FIRST position created some gap between our friendship. The very moment I promised the seat that, “I will come to you, very soon”.
The very second day I joined the school, I had to give a dance performance in a program as a new-comer. Then I danced on a song in between 8 girls which made me very popular in the school. The proper supply of answers to the questions placed by the teachers, the assignments properly done and carefully managed and a sound relation with friends made the teachers to memorize my name.
The results of the first terminal shook the entire school, the teachers, the parents and the most; the history! I stood first at my class and Prashant Bhandari was second! I was the hot concern among teachers, students, parents and the administration. The next day I entered the school, I was honorably offered the front seat. Thus, I kept my promise.
Cricket was my passion since very childhood. HVM gave me a platform to learn and play. I was the fast bowler of the team of my class. We had inter- sections game too often. And there would be very few occasions that we lost.
“Khasi is Khasi
Boka is Boka
If u forget me
That is dhoka”
My mom found a cheat quoting above statement while washing my clothes. It had been given to me by one of my friends, Nisha Niraula. No serious issue!
The scholarship had been extended to 100% as I stood first even in the final examinations of my school. My parents were filled with pride especially in front of their relatives and everyone used to visit them when my name was called upon the dias and was handed the medal, a 5 rs certificate and some prizes.
Grade three was one of the classes where I stood one of the most mischievous. There wouldn’t be one of the single day when teachers and students used not to be tortured because of me. I wasn’t scolded much because I used to grab over the first position of my class and teachers used to spare me because of that. This was the formula of my entire schooling. “Read well, present well, grab the best and do WHATEVER you like!” I still follow this.
“Guraasai fuldaa manai ramailo… koyali boldaa…” song was being played in one of the programs of our school. Each Fridays there used to be a program under Extra Curricular Activities (ECA). I used to take part in every, mark my words EVERY program that used to be organized and used to grab the first or rarely the second position in each of them. I am not boasting. I can show you each certificates if you wish for. That day was a rest for me because that day was dedicated for new comers and their talent. I was running around the fence when I saw her for the first time. She was dressed on a white one-pieced frock. There was a cricket ball on my hand which I suddenly threw over to my friends and ran to the crowd where every senior guys were cheering for her. That was the love at first sight.
I later came to know from some of my friends that her name is Alisha, Alisha Baral! She, too, studied in grade three. But she was from section B and mine was A. She was indeed very beautiful. Though she lacked height, she was worth a masterpiece. Her dance could drive anyone crazy. She became a buzz on my head for some days after I saw her. I really wanted to talk to her but could never get any chance because I didn’t have a good relation with section B. I never used to enter their class.
She lived in Kalopul, 10 minutes away from the school building and used to go to her home immediately with two guys around her area, Prithak Bhattarai and Kunjan Maharjan. Many friends said to me that time, “Alisha and Kunjan are like boyfriend and girlfriend.” To which my culturally driven mind would violently answer, “How can that be possible? Alisha is a Brahmin and Kunjan is a Newar. Even if they are in a relation, that cannot sustain.”
I really didn’t like playing any other games except Cricket but as a matter of time pass, I would enter in any sports my folks would be playing. Chess was the game I used to play with my mom from very beginning. My mother is my first guru of Chess. She taught me to play chess very well. She even used to slap me when I made any mistakes in the game. One fine morning when I entered the school, two guys were playing chess in another section of my class. Though I didn’t want to enter section B, I could not resist going through that game. I don’t recall who was at one of the end. Tumay Hang Lawati, a bold guy, with expression of pressure the chess creates in mind, was at one of the end. No sooner I entered the class, Tumay won the game. I couldn’t stop myself from asking him to play with me. The excitement of the victory just possessed couldn’t make him deny my proposal. We had a tough game till the ending but to no wonder, I won the game. From that very day, we became a very good friend. Indeed, best friends!
“Johny had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb
Johny had a little lamb
And the lamb were white as snow”
The both sections were mixed up for the rhyming class and we buddies would remain together and make fun of the teacher. I used to select the seat behind where Alisha used to sit. And the entire period would spend watching her and trying to talk to her. But, lack of guts was the major hindrance behind it. If I would have said that to Tumay, he would abduct her as in the movie Tere Naam and present her in front of me. In fact, friends are friends.
Once more, even after excessive trying, the result of the final examinations could not be turned over. Again, I stood first. With gold medal around my neck, I ran around the entire house. Every time I stood at the stop, I would be very happy. Grade three past without even once talking to her. I said to myself, “ I’ll wait until the new session starts, and then I am sure to win her heart.” I desperately waited for the entire one-month holiday. And finally the day arrived!
I was all set to go to my new class. My parents had already bought the books and copies with a new bag. The cream colored bag was the type of bag I always wanted to carry on. I had stated to my father few days back about the bag and that day, he bought it for me. I was really very happy. The major part of my happiness was not due to the bag, it was because, today I would meet her.
I went to my school, an hour ahead before the usual timing. It would be fun waiting for the guys and then sharing them about everything that happened in the past month. Though I was busy talking with my friends, my eyes were constantly searching her. She didn’t arrive. It was already the time for morning assembly. She didn’t arrive even when the morning assembly was over. The first day of the session, was worthless because the course was not started and most because she wasn’t there.
“Alisha has gone to Janakpur. Now she won’t be coming to the school.” I heard it from one of her friends. I stood still, shocked about what I just heard. Few days past with the continuous thought about her but the tragedy could not remain long because I had awesome buddies. Well, may be because, she was not even my TRUE love. Or may be, That was just an attraction. Or may be, it wa like the fox assuming the grapes sour, because it couldn't reach it. Whatsoever it is, i think there is going to be no chapter with her!

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