Looking back...

Birthday:
It so happens that it was my birthday yesterday. I don't make a big deal of it let alone celebrate it. There are many years that I didn't even realize that my birthday had passed me by. During and after my college years I used to go to Pashupatinath or a nearby temple as a way of thanking the Almighty for all the privileges that I enjoyed. In the more recent years, it is only because of my darling wife's insistence that we started having a few friends over for a dinner. Even so, we never tell them what it is for until we are half way through our food, lest they worry about gifts and cards and the likes. I have managed to make that guest list smaller by the year and this year, it was the ultimate - we were on our own ! I, sort of, tricked her by offering to take her to a nice dinner. And I'm hoping that our attentions will be diverted to our child's birthdays next year on.

Adulthood:
One funny thing about birthdays is that they tend to make me nostalgic. I unfailingly look at my life in retrospect and find myself still searching...for countless things. Last few years, I have been searching for something that would define me and my life. Yeah, yeah...I am getting paid (and getting paid well at that) to work in the field that I chose to work in. But, is that all? My wife thinks I have an inherently restless soul and get easily bored with mundane routine. She probably means to say that I am lazy. I would like to think otherwise, but can I really? Over the years, I have changed my objectives and point of views far too many times. I changed to Physics from Biology in my early college years. I changed from one engineering branch to other. I started my job in software, a different field than what I graduated in. I changed my academic focus again and joined a grad school in Computer Science. Only this time it was what I wanted to do and teach afterwards. I think I thrived in it then. I did a lot of research, taught classes and even got published. No, it didn't stop there - after four years in grad school, to my professors' dismay, I threw my thesis to trash and dropped out of school - probably one year away from PhD. I changed my mind and started working in software industry again. I still want to go back to school to complete that thesis and get my degree and at some point start teaching. My professors are more than willing to have me back - probably more than me. I don't know if I will actually come about doing it though. Cliche - nothing in life is certain but uncertainty. However, weren't I wavering rather than searching all the way through?

I believe most of us are like that. Do we really know, early on, what we want to do in life? During my teenage days I don't remember any of my friends saying anything but wanting to become a doctor or an engineer. It is just a social custom and what others expect you to become than our own choices that led us to our respective fields. And sure, almost my whole friend circle became what was expected of us. But,do we love it? How good are we in what we do? Who measures it? Does anyone actually tell you the bad news if you are not good enough? I've seen so many of my friends do wonders in standard tests and yet remain average or below average in practice - even at professional levels. USMLE/GRE/GMAT/PE you name it and I've seen my buddies shoot the charts and set the competitive bars very high for others. But that doesn't mean they were destined to write those tests. Just like my buddies, I did everything (minus my PhD drop-out time) that made my parents proud and the observers elate with appreciation. Does that mean I continue to do what I am doing and I'll be fine? Looking at my track record, there is much evidence that I probably will not settle down doing one thing for a long time. what I have observed is that once the initial excitement is over and the dust of novelty factor in my involvement settles down, I start getting bored. I don't see any reason to continue doing the same thing once I have mastered the required skill, and some. The perfect thing for me to do is probably something that constantly provokes me, gives me challenges in small doses and of increasing difficulty, and most of all lets me have my own hours. So, what am I to do? I don't know. There are far too many things that I would like to do. I'd like to get an MBA. I'd like to go to law school. I'd like to do a bit of research in social science. I'd like to start a business and grow it big. Join a volunteer organization; paint for a living; go for a hike for months on end; join political organization...you name it and I've thought about doing it in detail. Like a kid in a toy store, I still can't control my urges when it comes to my desires of becoming (something/someone). No matter what I am doing, one question always comes to haunt me back - "what now/next?"

Tender years:
Strangely enough, I don't remember much about my early childhood days. The earliest recollection that I have is of Dhankuta. My dad started his employment there. There were no motor-roads then. We used to live in a rented apartment. DO you know what kind of house I am talking about? If you have seen wooden houses in eastern regions, you'll know. Basically, 8-10 tree trunks act as columns to raise the platform. The planks make up the walls and ceilings. Tile or tin roof and mud-packed floors. Well to do families painted their exteriors with different bright colors. Anyways, there was a veranda outside but it had a swing to it, owing to loose connections or overuse. I was scared to go to the toilet about 20-30 meters away from home during the evenings. I always used the veranda and tried to pee as far away from the house as possible. To discourage me from doing that, I remember some of my neighbors telling me horror stories; like, this giant monster coming to check on kids peeing off veranda and pulling their pricks (toori) out. Every time I peed off the veranda and it swayed in one direction, I used to get scared. But, I remember thinking to myself.."the monster must be busy checking other neighborhood kids". I remember going to pluck Amala, Tittiri (Imli), oranges and guavas with other kids. During winter, mom and her friends used to have sessions of Sun-soaking and eating "saadeko" citrus-fruits. I took part in a horse racing event during King's birthday. I was barely 5, I think, and I was more interested in keeping my grams (Channa) falling off my pockets than riding to win. I used to ride good and I won the race but I was crying very hard...of course, for all the Channa had fallen off during the ride. I remember being punished by getting locked in a cupboard of sorts in Illam. Also in Illam, a white dog (small, hairy type) chasing us every time on our way to home. I also remember Panchthar, Phidim. I think I used to go to school there. If I did, it must have been for first grade. But, you need not have joined the school to attend classes then - it was much simpler times. Here again, no motor vehicles. I remember riding horses there too. Once or twice, the horses had slipped on icy rocks and nearly crushed my brother and I. I remember wild stories told by the horse handlers during our 1-2 (or 2-3?) days journey to/from Phidim. I remember one place they showed us and told us a story that I remember to this day - a revolutionary of some sort jumped off a cliff to escape being shot/captured...and he lived and ran away ! Anyone from that area of Phidim will tell you his name; unfortunately I don't remember. I have many incoherent memories of this place. Going to school, painting the blackboard with used battery's carbons, my brother and I floating our shoes in the open drain/canal and following it home, going to play with neighbor's daughter. I think we used to call her Kaali or Nepti. Oh, I had quite a crush on her - I was smitten. I remember always taking her with me to hide during our hide and seek games. We used to hide really well, inside haystacks. She must have been afraid of dark and used to sob. To appease her, I then used to recite rhymes and fairy tales. We enjoyed each other so much that I remember others getting angry at us for not showing up for quite some time even after the "seekers" gave up looking for us. Our office peon/cook used to come and fetch us home every evening after play time. I still remember painful grip of his hands, lest we run away and thus more work for him. This same guy taking us on a tour to his village, feeding us with dahi-chiuraa and felling Kattus and Walnuts from trees on the way back.

Growing up:
I started formal schooling in Dharan in second grade. Even though I was there for two years, I hardly remember anything at all. One thing I do remember is going to school with a neighborhood friend Fuchhe. Fuchhe and I used to skip school quite a lot, probably because it was too far away and there was no other means to go than walk. I remember spending entire day on many ocassions by the riverside (Khahare)...making a nest like enclosure in a bush. We ate out of our tiffin-boxes and slept in our nest after a tiresome game. It feels so strange now - how could so small kids do things like that? Why didn't anyone notice or care about our roaming about? I think it was a social structure -- my parents were away, I living with grand parents. Fuchhe's dad was a lahure, never home and his mom never noticed our adventures. One thing I was never short of was the stories - I was quick to make up one and tell in detail about school and other kids and teachers even if it had been a week since I set a foot in school. I remember making a bird out of clay for final test of our so called "handwork" class. I got a second prize but was taunted at home all the same - by a cousin.."second...second...booooo". There was (I think there still is) a slang-like word in Dharan - "Sekkken" - meaning hopelessly surprised or realization of a failure. Other than that, I don't remember anything of this period. I changed school for 4th grade (Jhapa this time) and I remember most of it after that - both good and bad times and several places, best of which were in Kalaiya (Bara) and Birgunj during winter breaks.

I was in Kathmandu after 5th grade and ever since, practically speaking. My tender years were good but I don't consider my school days between 5-8th grade as jolly ones. No, nothing bad happened but I think I saw too many bad taking place around me. Lousy teachers, unruly and belligerent kids, dismal environment, exposure to hazards, lack of guidance ...it is not expected of a private "boarding" school but it was all of those. My parents probably had no idea how bad it was. But, considering the reality of the country, I was probably one of the lucky few. I did go to an English Boarding school, didn't I? I wonder if Banasthali is/ever was one? Forturnately, I made two very good friends in my 8th grade and life took a very good turn thence. One of them is still in regular touch and the other one rarely. But, I guess being in 3 different countries (US, UK and Australia) doesn't help much either.

As the crow flies...:
As you can see, most of my childhood memories are limited to few incidents. The ones that I described pretty much sums it all up. As few as they are, I intend to cherish them all. At this juncture in life when I am about to become a dad, I try to think of those days and wonder what my child will remember at my age. Nostalgia is a funny thing - it can be heart warming and full of discomfort at the same time. I have to quote one of my seniors who quoted Khaptad Baba - "Chitra, mitra, shahitya" - that is what one needs to keep in plenty and of quality. I try to follow this simple mantra to the word.