Another fresh morning in Sydney

Voice of times, Indian students did not protest in Sydney
today as they were said to be panning. It was going to
backfire anyway. They already have attentione of the
nation, and the Prime minister, after their tantrums in
Melbourne. Further restlessness in their part would have
hurt the entire South Asian community directly or
indirectly, cause we all look same, Indians, Nepalese,
Pakinstanis, Sri Lankans and so forth. To say Aussies
are not racist at all would bit stretch the truth too far.
But where does it not happen??

Jogging today at the Centennial park was another cool
experience of the same spring breeze touching my
face, like it used to in, China. China was really fresh,
I dunno why it feels that way. Much fresher.
But it was good this morning, my get-out-of-bed-
and-do-it activity. My small treat to leave the rat
race away for a while. Well, the theory behind it is
something I read a while ago, hit it while your liver
is not full of energy from food.

On the way back, I lost my way after Newtown and ended
up coming to Ashfield through Hurlstone park instead,
I dunno where it is in the Sydney map.

Two lives of a book worm

These days I am living two different lives.
The first one is of course the rat race, no
further explanation needed. The second one
however, is my dream world. Well, its not
really a dream. It is actually living the footsteps
of travelers who tread the highest and toughest
mountains in the world. I also visit the secrets
of the so called 'Hermit kingdom', North Korea.
Then I am shouting pro Tibetan slogans in
the Ten downing along with other protesters.

I have just finished Joe Simpson's 'Storms of Silence',
a vivid of walks in the Nepalese Himalayas,
small towns and villages around the bases of the mountan
range, and Kathmandu; the mysterious and haunted
hills in Peru, entire county sides, towns and villages
buried by landslides.

In the first part of the story, he sets about to climbing
Cho Oyu, one of the few that are above 8000 m.
The stories are of the valleys, rivers, gorges, glaciars,
the superhuman porters - the Sherpas, Tibetans running away
from the Chinese and crossing over the mountains in
nothing more than rudimentary garments and even
the yaks. The accounts of this great traveller and
writer takes you in the air freezing cold at the top of the
world, snow beneath your climbing boots, the winds,
the prayers, the flapping of the tents in the wind,
the Sherpa society, Tibetan History and present
and many other magnificient incidents that cannot
be imagined without being among the mountains.
I actually started reading this book when I was in
Kathmandu, mostly while sitting in the warm winter
sun, on my home rooftop. The book sat untouched
in my shelf in my Sydney flat since I returned here
about two and a half months ago.

This period I have gone thru two other books actually,
the first one called 'North Korea: Another country' by
Bruce Cumings and 'For Tibet with love' by Isabel Losada.
The first one was so gripping that I could not leave it
whenever I was home, I finished it mostly sitting in front
of tv. The insights the book gives into real North Korea is
really astounding. Even more of an eye opener is how
the west has failed to understand the whole history of
the Korean peninsula, how the americans have repeatedly
humiliated them (Koreans), killed hundreds of thousands
of their civilians, used all sorts of brutality and breached
war conventions and yet failed to understand why they
hate US so much and are so much fearful of the similar
history repeating and threatening very existence of their
country. But the writer also underlines the blind worshipping
of the Kim Il Sung and his son by the population, almost
in a state of trance.

The second one is not as strongly written but is a
loosely held story of a wannbe Tibetan activist London
woman. Amazingly she managed to fall for
a monk and make him like her too. But midway
thru, she sort of changes track too abruptly and
it was a bit too ordinary of a reading.

The books are a relief to me, adding spice to my
otherwise ordinary existence in Sydney. Things
here seem bland and mechanical compared to
thrills and peace that mountains bring.

Back in Sydney

Out from the fridge to the furnace,
that is how it is feeling to be back in Sydney
from Kathmandu. Looks like the heatwave here is
making people forget everythings else.
Fires are raging in Australia, people are being
burnt alive. Last night I put my fan directly
at the foot of my bed, I was still kinda sweating.

However, when I flew in here on a Feb night,
Sydney felt amazingly calm and smooth after the chaos
and confusions of Kathmandu. The flight
was smooth mostly, minus few turbulence as
we hit a series of water filled clouds over the
equator. And inspite of the dangers, listening to
the rain falling on top of the plane was fun,
sounded like any other tin roof top, easy
to forget that it was 40,000 feet above ground.

Kathmandu might be a hell hole for now due to
chaos, pollution and crisis, but still an awesome
place to be, very lively, easy to reach anywhere.
I feel previliged that I was born there.
Miss it a lot.

Being in Kathmandu is always a bliss; spiritual, mind
boggling, eletrifying and really good for your soul - things
that are not in plentiful in Sydney. With tall white mountains
surrounding you from up close and keeping a watch,
Kathmandu can feel like a permanent haven of excitement,
a sanctuary of Gods. Place where things really happen, not just
'might' happen. This time it was not much difference in that
aspect, I will always cherish my moments in the Himalayan
heaven - the fresh cold mountain breeze worth a billion dollars,
catch up with close mates, kings way, nanglo, Roadhouse cafe,
feeling the breaths of the Gods, laughs and smiles of the loved
ones (one new one in particular), my family, rekindling of
the past memories. All strengthened by the sense of
being loved and giving love in return.

Kathmandu was a joy ride for me, in spite of all the load sheddings.
dust, engine smoke, garbage, chaos and inconvenicnes.

Now, getting slowly soaked up in Sydney's mundane rat race
would be really difficult, starting with the perpetual truth of
fact for everyone here, getting a job. I might take it easy for
few days.

Suryabinayak - Devotion and animal sacrifices

Today I and my father went to pay our

homage to Lord Suryabinayak, our Kul

Devata, or ancestral God, at Bhaktapur.

In bid to stop my fast eroding bank balance

we opted to take cheaper modes of transport.

I was mulling whether to take my bike, but

I knew that it was having problem with the

side indicators since the battery started to die

out. On top of that in chat with Shashi the early

morning he strongly advised mom not to send

me and dad on the bike. I called my bike mechanic

if he could look at it, he seemed still in bed and

said he would be at his workshop in couple of

minutes and asked me to bring the bike there.

But I thought I would not take it for the trip this

morning, so thought about going there later.

In our family tradition, every new born male

has to be brought here to the God to take

his blessings. I still have my pictures taken

when I was brought here as a young kid.

Discussing which way to go, we took a taxi

up to Maitighar and as suggested by the taxi

driver, waited for a bus to take us to Suryabinayak.

It turned out, no buses go up to the Temple

itself, all the buses stop at the highway only.

Its a 20 minute walk from the highway to the

temple. So we took the public bus. But the

inconvenience soon got us and we got off the bus

at Koteshwar from where we took another taxi.

It was about 400 rupees, about 8 Australian dollars.

Bit too expensive.

When I last came here about 6 years ago ,

the way from the highway

to the temple was open on both sides with beautiful

view of farms, laden with their crops, all gold,

green and yellow. A small newari style shelter built

for the benefit of the pilgrims still stand on the midway.

But now, the sideways are all lined up with ugly

cocrete buildings, shops and restaurants. The whole

area looks like another shanty town. I felt

devastated to see the whole natural beauty turned

into this mess.

I could feel dad laboring to reach the top of the

temple climbing the stone stairs. It was a bit

taxing even for me, thanks to lack of exercise

for months now. It was moderately crowded

and there was a short but very slow moving

queue to reach the God's statue. There was even

a small marriage taking place at the temple

which just stalled the line. A woman right behind

me was complaining all the way and asking

the temple carers to clear up the queue breakers

and devotees who were taking too long.

What struck me was a couple of animal sacrifices

that were made in front of the temple. First there

was this goat that had its throat slit. The

executioner let it stand still for a while, then with

a bolt he grabbed it by it skin on its uppper neck

and body and stuck its fore and hind limbs between

a large rectangular rock. Then he bent the head

backwards and just cut its neck with his knife.

Blood shot from the animal got into the shirt of

a young boy standing nearby. Most of the people

in the queue with me looked away, I did keep

watching against the advise of dad.

Little later, a large rooster was similarly butchered.

I did not feel particularly struck by the sacrifices,

as I have watched this all my life, but this time

I felt totally alien to it, and shameful.

Dunno how and if the fruits of such brutal killings

at sacred places like temples can be materialize,

or satisfies Gods. Its merciless and inhumane.

Its totally un-necessary, ugly and disgraceful.

I might sound a bit hypocritial as I am not a vegetarian,

but I still think sacrifices should be stopped in temples.

People here make sacrifices for various reasons -

religious rituals that are done in particular Hindu

festivals like Dashain, as 'Bhakals' - a promise

made to Gods if they fulfil what the devotee asked

for, on occasions like the birth of a male child and

so forth. Its still a kind of medievel thrill for many,

like some Inca sacrifices in South America.

For me its just barbaric, a tradition unfit for

a modern society.

Now, more than the scared animals that were sacrificed, face of

the young executionar looms on my mind. He was

a young fair fellow with a protuding belly, looked

built for the job with his pockmarked cruel looking

face. His mother and sister, I guess from their

appearance were taking care of the

businesses of the Temple.

We had a small meal of Sel roti and some

chana in a nearby restaurant. We took the same

taxi that took us from Koteshwar to the Temple

earlier to get back home.

Chinese Spring Festival - Kathmandu

Today I went to the Chinese new year
celebration at Hotel Annapurna,
organized by Araniko Society
-the only organization of Chinese speaking
community in Kathmandu. The society mainly
consists of the engineers, doctors and other
graduates who were once students in various
Chinese Universities. Oddly though I was in
a very informal attire wherease the majority
came in suits.

The program started off with a very lengthy speech
by the Chinese ambassador, explaining all aspects
of how the new year is celebrated in China. Well
he said in Northern China, people do it by eating
dumplings, and lighting fire crackers and so on.
I don't remember now what he said about
what speciality the people in the South follow.
I thought it was all firecrackers and chinese
dishes of the locality all over China, no speical
place for the dumplings.

It was then followed by a short speech by the maoist
minister for culture and Chinese dances. Oddly
though, there was a troupe performing dance on
a song from Indian movie. The young kids
looked to be picked out straight from one
of the hundreds of dance bars in town.
Liquor and food was in overflow in the party
that followed. Though a new threat of bird flu
has hit Nepal, most people did not seem to care,

Met a lot of other China returned Nepalese friends.
Lots of people probably did not recognize me as I have lost
so much weight.
Its scary how time flies..

Shuddered..

Couple of days ago, a young journalist
has been hacked to pieces in Southern Nepal.
She was attacked while she was preparing meal
at her rented room by about 15 men armed
with knives, khukuris and other weapons.
15 men, needed to mercilessly kill a small girl?
I cannnot contemplate the cowardice so low,
and how she might have tried to
protect herself, yell and cry for help.

I am in pieces myself, this callousness is beyond
my understanding, but something that is
being a day to day affair in Nepal. Especially
the journalists are being targetted.

Things ample in Kathmandu streets

Things that come to my mind, things that
I feel are in abundance in Kathmandu streets right now -

1. Dust in every single street or road
2. Finance companies in every street corner
3. Colleges and schools
4. Potholes on every road - every foot of it
5. Indian Bikes - all very nice looking by the way
6. Shops everywhere
7. People - pretty lively inspite of the whole chaos
8. Dust in every wall of the houses, every windows,
virtually everything. Thanks to dry season
and some of the worst maintained roads on the planet.
New Road would be the best example for this.
9. 'Dance' bars - all advertised with porn grade
pics of white women
10. Study/migrate abroad agents

Bike Repair in the morning

Its 8:18 in the morning and I am scribbling
this blog. Why so early? Because I have to
do so it while the electricity lasts for the day.
Well the dark out routine seems to have
changed now, this morning when I checked
to see if there was light, there was none.
Instead it has started at 8 and supposedly
will last till 2 in the afternoon.

I have just left my bike at the repair shop to
have it looked for bit stressed engine. The
throttle seems to be having blanks as is heats
up, could be carborator, dirty fuel tank or
even mis-firing spark plug. When I was there
this morning, just found few bikes lying around.
His shacked hut was not locked but closed at the
bottom only from inside. His assistant,
a young Indian boy speaking no Nepalese
was sleeping inside. Woke him up to inform
his boss and also that I will be back at 10.

Attacks in the backyard of Lord Shiva

Today there was a live feed on a local tv
(we managed to watch it when the light
came for about 4 hours for the entire day)
where a press conference at the Pashupati
premises was interrupted by blows and kicks
of an 'unknown' group. Its called unknown
though everyone knows who they are, seen
clearly by the camoflouge combat dresses of
the attackers. People were targetted and
attacked savagely, not even the journalists
were spared. It was just another show of
how low we have stooped to become uncivilized.
Reminded me of Lebanese-local people
riots in Sydney some time back.

The conference was called by the supporters
of the traditional appointment of south indian
priests in the greatest Hindu temple, that of
Lord Shiva. I guess its the 'People's' religion..
if you can see the pun intended here.
It was another display of the current lawlessness
in the defeated nation and helplessness of the real prople.