#my story

 

There are numerous benefits of education and equally many critics exist too but that’s the discussion I will gladly leave out today. Today I will only acknowledge the good of education, especially in my context. At the time I fell ill and realized I had now to live with a disability; I had only completed 12 Std and was preparing for the medical entrance examination. My confidence, self-esteem, self-image was all time low. The journey ahead was dark and gloomy. I could not even toss and turn on my own, my mother a graduate and baba(father) an M.Com and MBA degree holder became my full-time carer feeding me, bathing me changing my clothes, carrying me to the toilet and doing everything for me but I never heard an uff! From them, in fact, they defended me when people said my life was now over. My elder brother was in medical school and being the daughter of this wonderfully positive, optimistic, educated family  I had promised myself I will get a bachelors’ degree when or how I didn’t know I just knew I had to. 

That determination became stronger when after coming home from the hospital I first did hold a pen and I couldn’t even draw a straight line it took literally years of practice. I somehow found the courage and did my bachelors I couldn’t even write for long without pain and I had a different walking stick then but I did complete it. The knowledge gained and that piece of paper, the degree changed my total outlook toward myself and life. Today what you see is a totally different Srijana than the old one. 

So I figured if one degree can do so much for me then why not stick to my original plan of being a doctor so today I’m on my path to give my exam for master of sociology starting on 5th Dec, my birthday and ending on 18th  I hope I do well on all my papers for which I have to study and for that I have to take a small  break from the blog.

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Every dog has its day

In Nepal, the festival of light also known as Diwali is called Tihar. Similar to other Diwali observances, lamps are lit at night during Tihar, but it also has its observances that make our’s so unique. The festival of lights celebrates the triumph of light over darkness, of knowledge over ignorance, and the dissolution of barriers that separate humans from the authentic experience of the world. Nepalese Hinduism is unique in dedicating the second day of Tihar, Kukur Tihar, to the worship of dogs.

So today we celebrate kukur Tihar we thank them for their companionship, faithfulness, love and for everything thing they bring to our lives.

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black=Julie, brown=Hira. Both females both previously street dogs both now family. Julie is 8 years we found her in the month July as a pup hence the name. Hira came home as a little pup and never went back.

gender perspictive on development-a thought

Simone Lucie Ernestine Marie Bertrand de Beauvoir a French writer, intellectual, existentialist philosopher, political activist, feminist and social theorist. She wrote in her book “ The second sex”  “….one is not born rather becomes a woman …it  is the civilization as a whole that produces this creature intermediate between male and eunuch, which is described as feminine “

 Though there is no denying that women constitute nearly half of the world’s population, however, they own only about 6%of the world’s wealth. What seems to escape our minds while dividing the fruits of development or we choose to forget about women’s participation; whose time, energy, effort, and skills are involved in every aspect of a developmental process though she may or may not be directly involved.In many cases, gender is seen closely related to the roles and status given to men and women in the society based on their sexual differences.

 Gender inequality is a form of inequality distinct from any type of social and economic inequality nonetheless gender inequality form the basis of all societal evils.

Much of the ideas of feminism and women in development, formed during/in the UN, the decade of women (1976-85)” equality, development, and peace” was the slogan at the international women’s year conference held in Mexico City in 1975.

Tired but trying

They say “what doesn’t kills you makes you stronger” but they are so wrong what doesn’t kill you just does not kill you and that may be all you get. Except sometimes what does not kill you maims you, cripples you, leaves you weak and makes you angry, sad; feel cheated.

Some things that didn’t kill me did come so close that it’s still damaging. They didn’t all make me better some made me worse and bitter. Isn’t that okay, cant something just break you? The world wants us to believe that admitting defeat makes us weak. However, you just can’t be positive all the time we may be angry, frustrated, sad, annoyed, scared, anxious or any of the numerous negative feelings. Having feelings does not make a negative person. It only states how human you are.

I feel its okay to wish the nightmare to end, to pray furiously for the world to stop testing you, to cry yourself to sleep every night; to say aloud “I have had enough, I can’t take it anymore”. Bleed and bleed openly, there can and should be pride in vulnerability.

How can anyone be certain for sure that what I been through would make you kill yourself but then pain is relative.  So until you are broken, you don’t know what you are made of. Being broken gives you the ability to build yourself all over again. And strength for it all comes from good things family, friends, books and satisfaction of a wonderful moment.

They say “what doesn’t kills you makes you stronger” if that’s true then I am expecting my superpowers and cape any day now!

Birds of flood

During the floods that hit parts of Nepal recently caused by the heavy rainfall a pair of new birds visited my home.They built their nest on one of the Beatle tree’s of my home, a clear view from my window.


 

All the photos I take are from my phone so the quality may be bad .These days I am doing my assignments so haven’t been able to check any blog or am late replying to you for which I am truly sorry.

all about me

 

That’s Dorian Grey?  It’s the 100th time now, said my friend with very apparent exaggeration and a genuine look of disgust. This, however, was a ruse to recommend me the latest book she was reading, a love story, “Me before you” by Jojo Moyes. I don’t mind rereading and genres don’t concern me. Hence I thought I’d give it a chance but I don’t trust her taste therefore when it wasn’t available for free on the world wide web and with talks going on for turning it into a movie I skipped buying it telling her I’ll watch the movie and telling myself I’ll hold on to my money for now.

That was in 2013 and I had forgotten all about it until one fine day in 2017 the internet informed me of the movie and I watched it.

“Me before you” is a romance novel first published on January 2012. Although it may seem realistic, the book is a work of fiction, a romantic story of a wealthy man with disability Will Traynor and his caregiver Louisa Clark, living amid the people who try to convince him not to take his own life; they fail and he dies. It is an “autobiographical” account of Will after he has been quadriplegic since a road accident several years earlier. The plot is the same in the film.  In one of the scene, he says, “I get that this could be a good life, but it’s not my life. I can’t be the sort of man who accepts this.” Since throughout the movie Will is shown to be strong, determined and uncompromising, it seems clear that the “sort of man” who would put up with a paralyzed body and its demands could only be inferior to him. The idea that it is better to be dead than live with disabilities has been showcased many times.  Like in Million Dollar Baby, Whose Life Is It Anyway?, The Sea Inside and etc. Television Film Theater all seems to love those individuals who want to die; they’re less keen to cover the rest “who want to live”.

When able people talk about suicide, they’re discouraged, offered prevention, psychiatric support because then suicide is never seen as desirable. When a person with disability talks of it, suddenly the conversation is overtaken with words like ‘choice’  ‘autonomy’ ‘freedom’ ‘out of love’ and people rush to uphold these prized principles then the talk of prevention and mental health support are rare. What kind of message is this since when did suicide become ok?

It’s said only the injured can understand the pain of the wounded, do we really need be injured to understand the right to life of the person with disabilities.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dead

 

It’s always hard trying to come to terms with it, once a person is born Death is decided we know the truth of the mortal nevertheless we cry,  grief,  tears it’s the love we give but the other can’t receive in spite knowing it all each Death we see is difficult even if its 100th   we’ve encountered.

 We ask questions beginning or with sentences ending with why as we struggle to breathe. We often weep in despair, silently: sometimes offering ourselves as the replacement because a life without them is unimaginable. A heart raging in the fire of questions with tears that hurt with the flow; later the same heart tries to console.

 And soon… It might have taken years but no matter how long it’s always too soon for Death to come.

Again tears flow but not silently lamenting the tragedy sometimes screaming but the Dead cannot hear can they?

It’s said time heals all wounds but recollections of the pain remain. A few days, months, years slip by and still, the memories of the Dead follow everywhere. Willingly or not, the place the Dead formally had in our life is or will be taken by someone else not wholly maybe, in a part.

The Dead is still missed we smile laugh, cry for no reason and visit memory lane countless times. Death is Strange, knowing your loved one is dying is Stranger. However, the truth prevails “once a person is born Death is certain” though it is for certain the most painful truth.

on the calamity caused by recent rain, flood in Nepal. It is trivial to complain in the face of death but there was no electricity yesterday hence could not post.

 

 

i am you – a page from my journal

Please stop looking at me like that your gaze stab and bleed me, it hurts so bad but I know I can’t put my thoughts into words or explain anything to you before I get all rallied up in emotions, you that can understand it all but don’t want to; you that are the society of which I am a part too.

I understand you are sad to see me in such a sorry state but are you “sad”? Isn’t it acceptable anymore for a person to fall sick; being vulnerable is what a human is I am a human seems you are don’t know or accept the sad part of reality; makes me question are you really that delusional.

You start your sympathy speech every time telling me but then pretend I am deaf for a moment and direct all you have to say to my parents don’t you know how hurt they feel for what parents wish hardship for their children.  You speak of how hard my life will be now, its ok you speak the truth but who knows of the future quit telling me my survival my fight is useless if you can’t make my faith stronger my belief in hope please don’t make me believe in darkness.

One stumble in life, an ill turn of fate was all you required to see me in a new light through a biased glass. You took all my achievements stripped me of all the respect and love I had earned, put me naked on a podium for display. Sometimes I think you waited for all this patiently, sadness in your words but do I see happiness in your eyes.

I shrink with pain the steps I force myself to walk I fall, fail yet I walk.

It’s said everything in life happens for a reason. I’ve seen none till now, wonder what will I see but I know none even you won’t speak of me with pity but you will celebrate my life and I won’t let anything come in my way to achieve what I have always set my eyes on, no matter disability or no disability. I am not perfect but who are we kidding neither are you.

Written some 5 years ago when I just struggling to accept my new identity as Srijana the girl with a “strange” walking disability.

weaving imagination

Poetry brings within its compass everything nature, weather, beasts, beauties, and every realm of imagination. Though not everyone is a Shakespeare or a Milton, I believe, everyone has a poetic mind, a penchant for rhyme and rhythm – it’s only a matter of time before it manifests in one form or the other.

Poets are the architects of beauty and melody, expressed so eloquently through their beautiful verses. A poet weaves magic and makes the world gaze and wonder. Poets have been deemed eccentric and escapists. However, the likes of William Butler Yeats, John Milton and William Shakespeare and every poet have proven that no one can portray as vivid a picture of life as they can.

 The penchant for poetry is ubiquitous and it is in built in all of us humans to imagine and to express. Robert Fulton, while sitting by the serene Hudson River, first dreamt of a steamboat whizzing off in the calm water, before chiseling his dream into steel and wood. In fact, many scientific inventions that we bring to use these days were first crafted in the heads of their creators. How different are they from the poets, then? Aren’t they too the creators of beautiful dreams that might someday be realized? A poet churns out beautiful verses in his head, an inventor equally stunning possibilities. The poet, the dreamer, the imagination points it out to the scientists and logicians, “this is the future” as they provide the blueprint for the glorious new inventions and discoveries.

The greatest poet of all is Nature. The manner in which it lifts people out of the mundane world into a glorious realm of endless possibilities, untold beauty is pure magic!

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starry slice of heaven

The wind whispered sweetly into my ears as if to remind me of the drunken lull of darkness. Hark! I did. I always do. Give in to nature. Find it incomprehensible that most people do not take some time out for themselves.

For there is nothing like gazing up at the boundless sky, engulfed by a star-studded blanket; when the moon lets down her veil, revealing the beauty that can make any girl green with envy

At these times, I cannot help feeling that I am the sole creature in the universe and that the entire world is manifest just for my eyes, only for my eyes. Were it not for scrapping and scratching next door, wouldn’t it have been so much more blissful. Ah, I gather. Not everybody can marvel nature’s thousand gifts.

Suddenly, I am seized by the smell of freshly baked bread wafting up into the night air, from, who knows. Having skipped lunch, my tummy growls; but who has time to mull over such trivialities?

 I only start to contemplate again… An owl whizzes over my head. Headed home or to hunt, I reckon who knows; one more avatar of the Almighty.

The contemplative silence, its essence in emptiness, beauty in not being, and yet all-engulfing. In the midst this silence, the twinkling dots in the sky so mesmerizing, inviting me to play dots and dashes. I dappled here, cross up there. At this precious moment, I feel free from the chains of time. All shackles are broken: Nothing to hold me back. No bars on my thoughts. No restrictions on my imaginations.

Suddenly… a night prowler scurries across our front lawn. It rushes through the unraked leaves, its tiny feet crackling the little twigs. The noise arises me from my slumber of thoughts.

Soon and slowly, the Almighty Sun takes a peek riding high on his seven-horse chariot. The green carpet begins to glitter. As if God is running his fingers through it himself. Birds start to chirp, and flutter, creating, as if, a perfect symphony of Beethoven.

The perfect Mozart concerto!

 In the words of Laurie Lee: If ever there was blessing in the air, I see it now… in this still early day. How true these words are as this precious night gently gives way to an equally majestic day.