भनु कसलाई ?

माया मोहको यो दल्दलमा
त्यागुँ कसलाई, अप्नाउँ कसलाई

जीवनको यो जनजालमा
मानु कसलाई, विश्वास गरूँ कसलाई

हृदय र दिमागको खेलमा
जिताउँ कसलाई, हराउँ कसलाई

मानिस र मुकुटको यो मेलामा
असली मानु कसलाई, नकली कसलाई

प्रतियोगीहरूको यो मैदानमा
अह्राउ कसलाई

दुखी पात्रहरूको यो दुनियाँमा
हसाउँ कसलाई

चिस्सीरहेछन् सबै रमाइला मन
नचाउँ कसलाई ।।।

- अब यो गुनासो सुनाउ कसलाई -

~ Her Perfect Wedding Bells ~

1st May 2012

This shouldn’t have been a shocking news for me but it was. Early morning around ten, I got a call from an unknown number, I quickly prepared my brain during four seconds of ring and another two seconds I collected all curses to spit on that bluffer. I quickly pressed on my answer button, and threw a bold ‘Hello’. She answered ‘Hello, Riju? Ma Shweta…’ Oh yes, she was ‘her’ on the phone. I din’t recognize her heavy voice. I mumbled for few seconds to myself and finally she came up with destination ‘Bhadrapur ko!’. Yes, it was her, Shweta, my school friend. No, no don’t guess, its not her wedding. It was after like two years I had heard from her. She sounded so different. In fact, she never had a perfect nepali tone in school as well, we often teased her for fun. And then all my curses swayed away.
She had called in to invite us for Rucha’s wedding. Rucha is also my school friend. We all were class mates for like big thirteen years. We knew about her engagement but wedding was supposedly too soon. I thought she could wait for like a year or two. Anyways, she was getting married that sort of news poured heavy excitement in me. Actually, Most of my school friends got married but this was the first one I was attending and that filled double excitement in me. And multiple excitements evoked when I realized that I’ll be meeting most of my school friends there.

Girls are girls. Nomatter what, they have to look preety, I think that’s too cute to use, they have to look ‘beautiful’. Reception ground turns out to be a competition field, imagination begins, make-up, dresses, accessories ‘Ow I don’t have a match! My pair is missing’ and stuffs and finally, when you end up planning with a saree to wear, you don’t find better heels and at last when you are done with all ‘Aww, I can’t walk in heels’ drives you god knows to which heaven. That din’t create much of a problem to me coz I was pretty sure about my picture the people would get to see that night. In fact, I wasn’t sure about Rucha. Honestly, I couldn’t even scribble a bridal picture of her in my mind, forget about the sketch, I mean she was totally a tomboy and I liked her carefree attitude. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, though my night ended perfectly.

I set all ready to move. I blushed and bloomed myself as I had planned. My hair got a perfect touch up with a high puff and my very old style of slight fringes in front. I needed in fact, they are worst than the split ended brooms, sometimes, especially during occasions, when I have no time and no plans for any kind of hair do. But this time, all was set. I had plenty of time to decorate myself. Saree has always been my favourite, heels never attracted me the most, but I put them together always.

I tell you, a dream wedding it was. The set up so perfect and grand, I couldn’t stop myself imagining one for me. We arrived a bit early, so we had plenty of time for posing in front of lenses, which I always loved. Rucha, arrived. She was surrounded by beautiful ladies, I must say. I recognized two of them, one was her aunt and her elder sister. All were dresses perfectly. My eyes din’t even deceive a glance from Rucha. She was fully decorated top to bottom but she wasn’t wearing red. It was weird but some people have different culture of bridal dresses I suppose. She was wearing this heavily decorated pinkish gorgeous lehenga, a natthi, and line of preety bindiz above eyebrows. She looked pretty nervous, her smile covered limited space on her face, I guessed because of make-up. I can say, she was uncomfortable but it suited her and she was happy. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Meanwhile, I got engaged in my hanky-panky talks that wore non-sensible philosophical attire, at least it could mask those boring talks about business and studies. We all had gathered after a very long time, nodoubt a perfect vegetarian dine and most appreciably luscious dessert followed to add some more fun.

Music men played a typical song about groom, we quickly guessed he was here. Everyone gathered around a huge circular stage, prepared for warmala ceremony. Both bride and the groom steadily moved towards each other and placed warmala on each other. Rucha’s delicate bridal smile was noticeable. They looked perfect together like they say ‘a match made in heaven’. Meanwhile, the stage started rotating slowly, and the most attractive part was the blossom shower, totally filmy yet adorable.

We all wished her the best of the best wishes. Every threads of life is weaved beautifully, one should only realize as to when and where should the knots be tied. Every wedding bells look beautiful, sounds beautiful, one should only realize as to when and how should they be played and led.

Learning about Films "Interaction with Bikash Acharya''

25th April 2012
Wednesday

It was early afternoon, as we had planned earlier, our next class with Mr. Bikash Acharya, a well known director and a script writer in Nepali Film Industry and also a member of Film Development Board Nepal, turned out to be a worthy interaction at his own office building in Old Baneshwor.

We all reached there by 10:30 as informed by our lecturer Mr. Prem Luitel. He is our visiting faculty for television, this semester. He is the one who arranged this meeting for conversation. It was of great appreciation, without his guidance and support, learning and sharing opinions with such a personality and brain wouldn’t have been possible.

I hurried and relaxed myself on a squishy sofa right in front. Room wasn’t too big but spacious enough to adjust fourteen of us, unfortunately, we were just eleven. So, we tidily adjusted ourselves.

All of us introduced ourselves one by one from last. Waiting my turn, I initiated whirling my mind in search of words. I gathered them inside as fast as I could. At last it went perfect. I’m perfect at this.

Perfect! Okay, I lied.

I’m pretty bad at introducing myself sometimes.

Okay, I lied again.

In fact, most of the time. I literally forget important things that I need to mention.

It was good enough though. Actually, I’m not really interested in film-making process but the presentation factor attracted me the most. I think this quality poured that dramatic essence in me that half of the bodies enjoys and half complains about. I lost in his words though I was familiar with most of the parts of his story. He believes that he is one of the most educated in this field before Rajesh Hamal. He shared his experiences in film-making in Nepal, where most of the social factors were the obstructions, where actors demanded for monotonous typical roles, where scripts changed within a blink as per demand of actors or producers, where criticism dominated inspiration, where negative remarks overtook affable comments, where imitation worked more than own creation, where more than fifty movies were produced each year and not even fifty percent audiences watched them.

We then moved towards long and strong discussion as to how has mischievous and offensive scenes affected the viewers, as to what sort of impact has nudity and slangs put upon individual and society.

Finally, we wrapped up around 2 owing Mr. Acharya, a bottle of cold-drinks to all. And me and my team moved towards our next project, smiling at the scorching sun, seeking the next destination, as assigned by Mr. Luitel.

It wasn’t a bad day but indeed, wasn’t a good day too.

Mr.Acharya's recently released movies: 'NAAI NA BHANNU LA' & 'MA TIMRO BHAISAKEN'

Biography:

NAME: BIKASH ACHARYA
EDUCATION - M.A in Culture (T.U.) - M. Phil in Archeology (Bergen University, Norway) OCCUPATION - Film Making
PRODUCED
Sannani
Ragat
Maha Dev
Sauta
Nai Nabhannu La
DIRECTION
Nasib Aphno
Nai Nabhannu La
Ma timro bhaisaken
WRITTEN
Mama Ghar
Kartawya
Himmat
Kismat
Yudwa
Kaha Bhetiyela
Nasib Aphno
Ma Timi Bina Marihalchhu
Hasi Deu Eka Phera
Daag Nametieko Ghau
Nai Nabhannu La etc.
AWARDED
Best Director 2009 (Movie "Nasib Aphno")
Best Writer 2007 (Movie "Jiwan Data")
Best Writer 2008 (Movie "Kismat")
Best Writer 2009 (Movie "Ma Timi Bina Malihalchhu")
National Award 2008 ("movie "Daiko Sasurali")
Mahendra Bidhya Bhusan ( M.A. in Culture)

Biography Sources: http://www.filmykhabar.com/celebrities/bikash_acharya/

आसुँ कवी बन्ने सानो प्रयास

न भन त्यस्तो, न भन त्यस्तो, केवल म बन्न सक्छु तिम्रो सहारा भनी लगाउनु सम्म लगायोउ मलाई एक्लोपन को बानी मिलनको पर्खाइमा बिछोडलाई अङालेकी मैले न हास्न सक्ने न त रुन सक्ने, यो कस्तो चोट दियोउ तिम्ले ।। हासोको मुकुट मेरो अनुहारमा अटाउन मानेन, अब यो बिडम्बना म ढाकु कसरी, पिरोलिएको मेरो यो मनलाई अब म फकाउ कसरी ।। कल्पनामा तैरिरहने मेरा भावनालाई के दोश दीउु र म आफ्नो एस्तो अवस्थामा, तेस्लाई सम्हालु कसरी तिम्रो सम्झना बुढो रुखको जडोझै गड्यो मेरो मनमा, न फुकाउन मिल्ने न त जोड्न नै मिल्ने, यो कस्तो नाता गास्योउ तिम्ले ।।

TRISHNAA

I bury myself under a blue sky, because I feel dizzy, my night begins early before I get to see any stars twinkling above. My bed isn’t soft; it’s a common path for everybody. I wear a sando and half-pant, tacky and shabby. A rough, ragged old sack is the only friend of mine, whom I could play with. I ail and sometimes I even yell in pain. I am in pain because of my habits. I smoke, I inhale substances. I like the smell of dendrite. Passerby stares at me in surprise, some shocked but I care none of their reactions towards me because I do what I like. I yell in pain sometimes, these stuffs aren’t gifted to me, I try and purchase them. I wake up every morning for sake of being in pleasure of pain. I search, I search everywhere in a hope that I could at least find a penny to get what I want. My day then begins with a hunt for money. I beg people. I request politely to the passerby but all that they give me is fuming stare sometimes even get slapped that is why most of the time I target my innocence towards women. Some of them show sympathy but that doesn’t matter, all that matters is money to me. Finally, at the end of the day, I have enough money to erase my “trishnaa” and I laze on my bed and bury myself under the blue sky again.

तिम्रो यादमा ...

त्यो उकाली ओरालीमा बलियो तिम्रो साथ गुद्गुदाउने शब्द ती मनै छुने बात अब सताउछ मनलाई दिलाउछ तिम्रो याद ... दर्पनले गिज्याउछ देख्छु केवल तिमीलाई भनि खस्खसाउछ घाँटी लट्पटाउछ बोली गर्छु शृंगार आउछ केवल तिम्रो याद ... लेख्न बस्छु गीत खोज्छु लय खोज्छु संगीत बहाना माग्छु मनलाई गुन्गुनाउन पुग्छु त्येही प्रीत जस्ले दिलाउछ तिम्रो याद ...

This isn't "his-story" but its "her-story"

He shows himself in such a way … she can't veil her fear
She coerces her tired eyes to snooze but they only project her times of terror
Tears roll down …pour there... Down to her pillow
She is in pain but,
She manages to sleep calm …
He shows no mercy, he pins her badly...
All night she manages his obsession,
Only lonely nights to console her...
But her wounds burn her alive, everyday
She is longing to breathe,
Longing to take that 'sigh of relief'
She tries to wake up smiling,
Synchronizes her steps towards a dreadful path,
Manages to dispose her dead spirit of last night
And…
Tonight again, she sleeps holding her spirits tight …

(A true story in my words)