the confusion of hail stones

We saw hailstones after year more than 8 years, 8 years because that’s the age of my oldest dog in human years and she had never seen it so after the simple deduction I got the answer.

 Hail is a form of solid precipitation. It is distinct from ice pellets (American sleet), though the two are often confused.[1] It consists of balls or irregular lumps of ice, each of which is called a hailstone. Ice pellets (American sleet) fall generally in cold weather while hail growth is greatly inhibited during cold surface temperatures.[2]   (borrowed from Wikipedia)

Both of our dogs’ elder Julie and younger  Hera who is just two years were super confused why was someone hitting them with cold stones and as a result, they created a ruckus with their barks as they replied to the nonstop fall of the stones as the night fell. next day neither would eat nor reply to any of our calls, they both just slept near the gate confused why would we throw stones at them. Well, that’s the explanation our naive brains formed to explain their behavior as we spent hours explaining we were at no fault, why would we hit such wonderful good girls to them while other humans tried to form a rational explanation of our behavior.


1.before hail




3.still raning


4. next morning


5. clean and beautiful


6.angry, upset


7. no use calling for lunch



Dark clouds took over the clear blue sky, with every passing second it became darker.

But the attention-grabbing factor were the winds that began to sweep up the dust that lay everywhere in cracks on walls, in between leaves of trees, among the flower petals, on inaccessible  tin roofs, on  paved roads; invading every little space available and into the rooms if one was too late to close the windows. All humans scurried indoors. Looked like a huge vacuum cleaner had been switched on by gods.

In a couple of hours, the Rain began.

Amidst lighting and sounds of thunder, huge drops in a very slow fashion touched the lips of the parched earth. If the rain were human you’d probably hear the laughter and see her happiness and if the earth had arms you’d see him raise his arms to get closer to his beloved.

However, the wait was not yet over. She the Rain did not give in easily; all she did was tease the earth leaving him wanting for more. The sky remained black, wind replaced Rain and the cleaning continued.

It was already night when the Rain started again now accompanied by very frequent flashes of lightning and sounds of thunder; which kept many mortals tossing and turning all night.

When the morning came the rain was still quenching the thrust of earth, it was raining but slowly and gracefully she came to a complete halt.

The Sun peeked from in between the clouds as the darkness vanished. Everything looked new “clean” as if overnight the earth had shifted to a new planet.

 That’s how the first Rain of the season graced us, it brought about a lot of wonderful changes but I get unaccountable pleasure whenever I see The rose plants in my garden that bore flowers of various colors which now looks a lot “fresh” vibrant and the trees surrounding my house looks greener. I just could spend all day just watching them.

The sweet smell, when the first few drops of water touched the dry soil after months of dry winter, has always been beautifully en-gripping something no words describing it would ever do justice only experiencing it will. I’ve always waited for it each year of my being; it always without fail manages to instill in me the numerous good reasons for being alive.

I love when rain falls layer after layer of individual drops. Like us, it’s also is experiencing its short life and meeting alone the earth for the first time. Individual drops always falling alone but become part of something so much bigger collectively, teaching us we collectively we can be so much more beautiful than we could ever be alone.


The Hiprocacy of judgement

“But you don’t look disabled.”

Both baba and I stared with an apparent look of surprise, disbelief, and sadness at him I was shocked with loss of words and baba was quiet too. Some people think saying nothing is a sign of approval, he did the mistake too as he launched into the topic of “well-meaning” advice as I controlled my angry tears from falling.

The person in question is a disability rights activist working in the area for the betterment and upholding the rights of the people with disabilities. It was just an informal meeting he had actually come to meet baba so it was just a chance meeting with him I did not look to him to validate my life but of all people I was confident he would fully understand but he just decided to interrogate me as a criminal and forgot the pain of not being understood.

I have an invisible disability, yes I can walk for limited distance before I have to without option take the help of my disability aid “my walking stick” also there are a long list of things I can’t do because my body won’t allow, writing for a long without rest is one of the things. On top it all to emotionally drain me I don’t have a diagnosis just a list of probable causes. Without a definite name to refer to or a visible impairment to see no one should recognize yet surprisingly many people acknowledge my disability. However, nobody had ever insisted that I don’t have a disability this was a big blow to me especially now since I was just taking my first steps to accepting my disability as a part of my life which is a tough job once you’ve lived the life before it.

About him. He has polio so he uses a prosthetic leg and surprisingly I can’t see it because its hidden in the fabric of his pant, his gait is normal he came riding a motorbike himself and uses no disability aids.

I think we as humans see our own things as superior be it nation or culture and of all things even pain and disability, we are always ready to judge others harshly on the criteria that only we see apt.We only see ourselves and label deviations from it as not true why?

I claimed again and again loudly the truth of my life and so did baba only to be dismissed for he was adamant in his judgment all I needed he said was exercise and a good doctor. What a false notion we have that everything can be solved by doctors, medicine, and exercise. Some people suffer from a superiority complex, he is a person with the disability he certainly has seen and suffered a lot but that does make him the encyclopedia of disabilities.When you pass judgment according to your own laws when you are the judge and also the jury you will always incarcerate others as liars.

Remember how vast the ocean is while you many see calm somewhere there may be a storm brewing elsewhere.So is a person with immeasurable depth in the fold of character, memory, and soul.Never judge a person by just by their smile, freeness, quietness or clothes etc; maybe that’s their only line of defense they have developed rather than explaining to people who have already passed their judgment


disability, noun.

a physical or mental condition that limits a person’s movements, senses, or activities.

“children with severe physical disabilities”

synonyms: condition, disorder, affliction, ailment, complaint, illness, malady, disease; 



Saraswati Puja and making friends

Will you be my friend? Let’s play together or else saying can I share your toys; I gather that’s how you make friends as a child I never had to do it consciously because no introduction or formality was required of “us” living in the paradox of insider and outsider. Though the friendship of such kind never existed beyond that of playmates for which I am entirely to blame. Nonetheless, I never had a shortage of friends.

My elder brother and I are children of a nuclear family who also happened to study in separate boarding schools far away from home. On top of it all, we came home only three times a year two of the holidays were of 10 days or less, the third one was unusually long it stretched to 3months it was our year-end holidays also popularly called winter holidays. Since 3 months were a way too long for just to be kept busy by TV, books and games we needed friends to play with; for which we needed to socialize. I can’t say for my brother but for me, it was an awful process.I hated the nuisance of the process of making friends and even more that I had to keep my opinions aside but I loved having friends. The dilemma that weighed my tiny brain, Sigh!

When you are just beginning to get tired of the holidays comes the time to celebrate “Saraswati Puja” the goddess of education also known as Vasant Panchami, is a Hindu spring festival. It is observed on the fifth day of the Indian traditional calendar month of Magha, which typically falls in the Gregorian months of January or February. It was a big deal then and even now among the school going age kids here. the whole celebration was only managed by the kids and obviously a little guidance from the adults. It was important that all kids opinionated or not kept all their difference aside. Relatively unknown kids became such fast friends that it would confuse anyone that if we told them that before “the process” we didn’t know of each other’s existence.

The kids from both sides of the street came together because a lot had to be done in such a short time. Some of the of them were;

  • To choose the all-important venue. It should be next to the street but not disturb the traffic, it should have enough open space to make a tent; etc
  • Collect money from donations.
  • Make the important budget
  • Buy the idol, the food offering, Prasad, decorative stuff for the tent; etc
  • Get electricity from the nearby house
  • Work together to make the tent and decorate.
  • Distribute prasad to everyone who came big or small
  • So many small big things

So in the end of the puja, we were still little kids but filled with the confidence that though we are small collectively we can do big things and while having fun in work friends will be made too! Happy Swarsati puja.



a new generations effort; preparations for the celebration of Saraswati Puja.



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.


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.


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.




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.




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!


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.


a lesson from Hibiscus


White Hibiscus



Red Hibiscus


What do I call it? red or pale yellow Hibiscus


Pink Hibiscus

 Same family, so many colors yet they are all the same, these are from my garden. Did not take a lot of work to see such pretty flowers, just a few branches to plant.You think it will die after all it has no roots just a branch stuck in soil and it does begin to wither but that is just the beginning of a new plant a rebirth you may call it and now defying death the flowers are blooming. 

more about Hibiscus