| Username |
Post |
| deep |
Posted
on 15-Nov-03 08:51 PM
Goodbye? ------By Deep.
Dashainko poornima ko parsi palta. Feri aaja pani we were only eleven players on the ground. Nobody wanted to sit out until a partner showed up, same argument once again. I wanted Vaicha to sit out that afternoon. Why Vaicha? Well, who knows when was the last time he offered his position in favor of a fellow player. I don’t remember him ever volunteering to sit out. He was forced to sidelines at times but only when Bimal dai ordered him to do so. He didn’t care for anybody else, and Bimaldai was not there with us to ask Vaicha to sit out. Bimaldai, jaad lagayera tyai kisna madir pachhadi paya bhalirathyo hola. That’s what he used to do most of the time.
Anyway, Vaicha was one heck of “jiddi†dude. He had to play no matter what. Amazingly, even with such continuous record of playing, he was a horrible forward. I guess whenever he said “forward kasto machha jasto†he meant the forward players in the opposing team. He was more like a “rango†as a forward than a “machhaâ€. I argued once again “mu** bhaicha, talai mu** sadhai khelnu parne---ek chhin basna—ahile kohi na kohi ta aaihalchha ni—ani khelnuâ€. Vaicha simply said, “jha* pani niskinna ma taâ€. “Mar ta ma%$#@ alachhina Vaichaâ€, I said with frustration and came to sideline and sat there watching him and others play. I was waiting for Dipesh to show up any moment now. In fact, I had mentioned to all the dudes that Dipesh is back, and I saw him coming last night in bhutesowr. Ten, or may be fifteen minutes in the game, I saw Bimaldai coming to the ground.
****
We’ve been playing football at this faant for almost a year now. Not sure who owned this piece of land but nobody cared to plant anything in it. So, it was a perfect football ground for us. Just a few months back, we were at this very faant (open field) playing football and a dude showed up. He was a new dude. I had never seen him before and I don’t think none of us there on the ground knew him. Cuz nobody recognized his presence there. We just looked at him once and kept on playing. This new dude seemed, as most of us, in his mid teen age and also seemed friendly. Even though none of us greeted him, he was smiling at us. We didn’t care. I wonder why we were so cold toward him, but we were.
No one asked him if he wanted play with us. May be because we were evenly distributed and no one team could take him as an extra. He stood for a while by the side line then sat by our side of chappal rakhera banako goal post. Barmu was golki (goal keeper) and was guarding the post with vigor. Barmu, I swear I don’t know his real name but he was not a bahun dude for sure, was a good goal keeper but was a bit aggressive. Everyone used to call him Barmu, so I wonder if he would have responded if we call him with his real name. The new dude tried to strike a conversation with Barmu but Barmu didn’t give a damn. Game over and we left the ground. The dude followed us as if he is also one of us. He was not. None of us talked with him that day. Dhungedhara aaunu aghinai he turned right and went inside a house. We knew everyone there in that house so we wondered who the f*&^% is this new dude. Barmu asked, ‘ko ma&^%$ yo? Ma sanga gaf dina aaira bhanya---ma&^%$# lai paanipet ma brucelee cut diu ki jasto lagya thyo—tara feri bhaigo bhanera chhod.diye---uta bata Anile le ball lyaisakyo yo mu** posta aayera kich kich kich---“. We didn’t know who he was.
Next day, he came to football ground again. Bimaldai was also playing that day with us. Bimaldai was in his early twenties and was a well-known street fighter. His full time job was to sit behind the kisna mandir and play paya and bless the nearby bhatti during paya break. His “aasirbad†was required for bhuras like us to roam free in the tole. For some weird reasons, he used to come and play football with us-occasionally. So, the new dude sat by the sidelines today, didn’t dare to go near Barmu who was giving a freaky stare to him. The dude was running to get the out ball all the time. We all knew, he wanted to play but we didn’t want to include him for some unknown reasons. After about half-an hour, Bimaldai declared he is leaving, “la ma&^%$#haru ho, dai ta lagyo aba—timiharu kheli rakhâ€. We lost the balance. Bimaldai was playing from our team. So without him, we dropped to four and other team had five. No one wanted to sit out in the other team. We were arguing. For any team it was a wining deal to accept five players in the opposite team. If you lose, you say “timiahru panjana, hami charâ€, if you win, you say, “mu**haru pan-panjana bhera ni—thukka mu**ho.
Suddenly, Bimaldai looked at the new dude and asked, “ye ma&^%$# khelchhas?†The dude immediately jumped in. No one could argue with Bimaldai. “ke ho mu** tero nam?†Bimaldai asked. “Dipesh†The new dude answered. “ta mu** lai ta pahila dekhya chain ta—kaha mu** tero ghar?†Bimaldai asked him again? “Raajbiraj†Dipesh answered. “yaha kaha baschhas?†Bimaldai threw one more question at him? He showed to a house behind some trees and said “thereâ€. “Ka mu** Prakas ka?†Bimal dai asked. “ho, buwako saruwa bhara aako---tyaha dera ma basni hami†Dipesh said with his friendly smile. We all were encircling him and Bimaldai. “la mu** ta mero tham ma khel†Bimaldai said and left. Dipesh palyed from our team. He was not great but was not bad either.
The next day, Dipesh came to the ground with gotibhako jutta, half-pants, and a t- shirt. None of us had such goti bhako jutta. We always talked about them but none of us had a pair. Just because he played from our team yesterday, he assumed that he was permanently assigned to our team. He came to our side again. No one protested, though. Slowly, he was accepted in our team and became one of us. He became a close friend of mine. Even Barmu was his buddy now. A couple of days later, he came to the ground writing big no.21 on the back of his white ganji with black sign pen. He was totally into the game. He was a friendly dude. Now, if he didn’t come on time, we all used to miss him. We really enjoyed his talk about Rajbiraj. I became really close to him.
It was just a couple of days before nauratha. We were, as always, gathered at the faant to play football in the afternoon.... continued below.
|
| deep |
Posted
on 15-Nov-03 08:52 PM
It was just a couple of days before nauratha. We were, as always, gathered at the faant to play football in the afternoon. We were thirteen players. One had to sit out but none of us wanted to. It was not a new issue. We always used to convince someone to sit out for a while. I asked Dipesh to go to the sideline that day cuz I had done so in his favor just last week. But he refused. We argued, then I got mad and said “mar ta mu**†and came to the sideline. He immediately followed me and said, “bhaigo Deep, you playâ€. I looked at his face and saw him scared. “kina ke bho?†I asked him back. He didn’t say anything. Since he was not on the ground with other players, the game was stopped and other dudes were calling him. He just stood there with me. “ke bho mu**?†aghi ta niskinna bhanthis ta?†I asked him again. “Why did say that?†He asked me. “Said what?†I asked him? His tone was not of confronting but of resigning. Other guys came to us to know what was going on. “ke bho?†they asked. “khai ma&^%$ ke bho? Yo mu Dipesh ke bhanchha ke---“ I answered. Dipesh asked in some shaky voice, “Why did you say “mar taâ€. Everybody laughed. “hya mu** mar ta bhandai ma marchhas ta mu**---la aaija khelna ma ta ma***** k k na bhayo bhanthanya—“ Barmu said. But Dipesh didn’t move.
I felt bad and said “sorryâ€. Dipesh said, “bhaigo Deep tai khel, I am going to miss the game for many days, anyway.†We all looked at him. “I am going home-Raajbiraj tomorrow for dashain with my parents†He said in a soft voice. Kumar asked, “kaile aauchhas?†“Purnima Pachhiâ€, Dipesh answered. Now, I really wanted him to play. So, I said, “sorry, Dipesh—maile tyasto naramro bicharle bhaneko haina—ta lai narmaro lagyo? I won’t say it againâ€. Bidyanas? He asked. Bidyanas, I answered. Feri nabhan hai ta tyasto? He asked. I said, “OKâ€. He played the whole time. Before he entered his dera-house he shook hand with all of us. We kept quiet for a minute then we laughed at him for his “andhabiswasâ€. “bholi ghar jana la re chha—mu** bus paltela bhanera dara hola n’ ta†Suraj said and we all laughed again. But I felt sorry for upsetting Dipesh. Man manai I prayed to the God “tyasko bus kehi pani nahos, bhagwanâ€.
Next day, I listened to the news and there was no news of bus accident. Few more days passed by, no accident news came to us. We all got involved in the dashain extravaganzas. Football was suspended for a few days. Schools were closed for a month. We were having a great time.
Poornimako bholipaltako saanj, I was standing by the bhairavthan feeling chilled air. Bimaldai, Shivadai, and many others were there too. I saw a taxi coming close and turned left toward oralo. I saw Dipesh by the window. He waved at me with his regular friendly smile. I also waved back at him. I was so relieved and happy to see him back. “Dipesh aayechha†I said. “Ko Dipesh?â€Bimaldai asked. “tyai praksdai kaha basneâ€. I answered. “Khai?†Bimal dai asked looking around. “Tyo taxi ma gaisakyo†I pointed at the taxi that just disappeared descending. “maile ta dekhina†Bimaldai said. Well, I didn’t care whether Bimaldai saw him or not, but was so happy to see him back. Couldn’t wait to see him in the ground tomorrow.
****
Dashainko poornima ko parsi palta. Feri aaja pani we were only eleven players on the ground. Nobody wanted to sit until a partner showed up, same argument once again. I wanted Vaicha to sit out that afternoon. Why Vaicha? Well, who knows when was the last time he offered his position in favor of a fellow player. I don’t remember him ever volunteering to sit out------.
I was waiting for Dipesh to show up any moment now. In fact, I had mentioned to all the dudes that Dipesh is back, and I saw him coming last night in bhutesowr. Ten, or may be fifteen minutes in the game, I saw Bimaldai coming to the ground. He seemed fittu. Mu** Bimaldai fitan nabhai aa bhe’nta ma khelna pauthe ni, I thought. Bimaldai came to the side line and stared at me for a second. “He looked weird, I got scared.â€â€ke bho, Bimaldai?†I quickly got up and asked him, then looked around to see which way is the safest one for me to run if this messed up Bimaldai decides to take a swing at me. He grabbed my collar with lightening speed and thundered with puzzeled voice, ‘taile hijo raati Dipeshlai dekhe bhanya haina bhutewswor ma mu**?†I was scared to death. I said, ‘ho daiâ€. Other players saw Bimaldai grabbing me. The game stopped and all ran toward us. “Ke bho dai?â€Suraj asked.
“Mu** Dipesh died yesterday†Bimaldai spoke. We were all stunned. “Kasari?†Barmu asked holding the ball tight against his chest. “bata ma---bus ma---Rajbiraj bata aauda---Prakas was saying---Dipesh jhyal bata tauko nikalera bahira heri ra thyo re---arko pati bata aako busle taukai ma hirkayechha---taukai khattam!----I don’t remember what else Bimaldai was saying after that---because my head was spinning out of control. I was sure I had seen him last night in the taxi waving at me. I was thinking again and again “Was Dipesh last night, then, with his waving his hand saying goodbye to me?â€
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| Bal Matlab |
Posted
on 15-Nov-03 11:14 PM
Yo pali ta ali sad story parecha ni. Ek chin chahi eso "bone chillin' bho. Ho ta he life ma, ke garnu. Kahile kahi bhaneko pugcha bhaneko tehi ho. Had fun reading it.
Bal:)
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| oys_chill |
Posted
on 15-Nov-03 11:47 PM
agree with bal matlab.....bone chilling it was.
I remember one dai (like many dais i had made in handigaon trying to relate to the place after being estranged for six years), whom I used to visit often who was somewhere from Terai. We grew so close to him that my sisters decided to put bhai tika on him. As time wore on, we moved on. He was an electrician by profession. He'd always be working on something when I visited him randomly. When frustrated he'd say.."kaile kahi yehi current diyera maru jasto lagcha"
almost five years later, we heard a shocking news from our neighbor that they had seen condolence on behalf of this dai in some newspaper. I rushed home and went through the piles of newspapers. Indeed, there was this shocking story, "nava bibhahit baata atma hatya" It was absolutely chilling as I read further how he killed himself with electricity, his forte. I couldn't believe it for days....so it happens...life indeed is very fragile.......very very fragile indeed!
Thanx for reviving those chilling memories deep dai!
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| Nepe |
Posted
on 16-Nov-03 08:00 PM
Yet another engrossing story narrated by Deep in his unique style. This time some tang of mystery and sorrow. I am glad to see he has not sacrificed M-words which otherwise might have compromised the natural flavor, which has been the hallmark of Deep's stories.
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| KaLaNkIsThAn |
Posted
on 16-Nov-03 08:22 PM
Deep Bru,
Mari jaam, I couldn't read your posting! "Baakas" matrai dekkhiye ta huntyo ni, tyasko baaje ko khappar nana thari ka "aksher" dekhiyera babaal bho... Bro ko tyaam bhaa belama yesso email ma pelna milcha bhane haami ni Kalanki maai ko naam liyera padhthim... eh!!
"Haath main aaya muh ko naa lagaaya" taal paryo :(
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| Deep |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 06:41 AM
Dashainko poornima ko parsi palta. Feri aaja pani we were only eleven players on the ground. Nobody wanted to sit out until a partner showed up, same argument once again. I wanted Vaicha to sit out that afternoon. Why Vaicha? Well, who knows when was the last time he offered his position in favor of a fellow player. I don’t remember him ever volunteering to sit out. He was forced to sidelines at times but only when Bimal dai ordered him to do so. He didn’t care for anybody else, and Bimaldai was not there with us to ask Vaicha to sit out. Bimaldai, jaad lagayera tyai kisna madir pachhadi paya bhalirathyo hola. That’s what he used to do most of the time.
Anyway, Vaicha was one heck of “jiddi†dude. He had to play no matter what. Amazingly, even with such continuous record of playing, he was a horrible forward. I guess whenever he said “forward kasto machha jasto†he meant the forward players in the opposing team. He was more like a “rango†as a forward than a “machhaâ€. I argued once again “mu** bhaicha, talai mu** sadhai khelnu parne---ek chhin basna—ahile kohi na kohi ta aaihalchha ni—ani khelnuâ€. Vaicha simply said, “jha* pani niskinna ma taâ€. “Mar ta ma%$#@ alachhina Vaichaâ€, I said with frustration and came to sideline and sat there watching him and others play. I was waiting for Dipesh to show up any moment now. In fact, I had mentioned to all the dudes that Dipesh is back, and I saw him coming last night in bhutesowr. Ten, or may be fifteen minutes in the game, I saw Bimaldai coming to the ground.
****
We’ve been playing football at this faant for almost a year now. Not sure who owned this piece of land but nobody cared to plant anything in it. So, it was a perfect football ground for us. Just a few months back, we were at this very faant (open field) playing football and a dude showed up. He was a new dude. I had never seen him before and I don’t think none of us there on the ground knew him. Cuz nobody recognized his presence there. We just looked at him once and kept on playing. This new dude seemed, as most of us, in his mid teen age and also seemed friendly. Even though none of us greeted him, he was smiling at us. We didn’t care. I wonder why we were so cold toward him, but we were.
No one asked him if he wanted play with us. May be because we were evenly distributed and no one team could take him as an extra. He stood for a while by the side line then sat by our side of chappal rakhera banako goal post. Barmu was golki (goal keeper) and was guarding the post with vigor. Barmu, I swear I don’t know his real name but he was not a bahun dude for sure, was a good goal keeper but was a bit aggressive. Everyone used to call him Barmu, so I wonder if he would have responded if we call him with his real name. The new dude tried to strike a conversation with Barmu but Barmu didn’t give a damn. Game over and we left the ground. The dude followed us as if he is also one of us. He was not. None of us talked with him that day. Dhungedhara aaunu aghinai he turned right and went inside a house. We knew everyone there in that house so we wondered who the f*&^% is this new dude. Barmu asked, ‘ko ma&^%$ yo? Ma sanga gaf dina aaira bhanya---ma&^%$# lai paanipet ma brucelee cut diu ki jasto lagya thyo—tara feri bhaigo bhanera chhod.diye---uta bata Anile le ball lyaisakyo yo mu** posta aayera kich kich kich---“. We didn’t know who he was.
Next day, he came to football ground again. Bimaldai was also playing that day with us. Bimaldai was in his early twenties and was a well-known street fighter. His full time job was to sit behind the kisna mandir and play paya and bless the nearby bhatti during paya break. His “aasirbad†was required for bhuras like us to roam free in the tole. For some weird reasons, he used to come and play football with us-occasionally. So, the new dude sat by the sidelines today, didn’t dare to go near Barmu who was giving a freaky stare to him. The dude was running to get the out ball all the time. We all knew, he wanted to play but we didn’t want to include him for some unknown reasons. After about half-an hour, Bimaldai declared he is leaving, “la ma&^%$#haru ho, dai ta lagyo aba—timiharu kheli rakhâ€. We lost the balance. Bimaldai was playing from our team. So without him, we dropped to four and other team had five. No one wanted to sit out in the other team. We were arguing. For any team it was a wining deal to accept five players in the opposite team. If you lose, you say “timiahru panjana, hami charâ€, if you win, you say, “mu**haru pan-panjana bhera ni—thukka mu**ho.
Suddenly, Bimaldai looked at the new dude and asked, “ye ma&^%$# khelchhas?†The dude immediately jumped in. No one could argue with Bimaldai. “ke ho mu** tero nam?†Bimaldai asked. “Dipesh†The new dude answered. “ta mu** lai ta pahila dekhya chain ta—kaha mu** tero ghar?†Bimaldai asked him again? “Raajbiraj†Dipesh answered. “yaha kaha baschhas?†Bimaldai threw one more question at him? He showed to a house behind some trees and said “thereâ€. “Ka mu** Prakas ka?†Bimal dai asked. “ho, buwako saruwa bhara aako---tyaha dera ma basni hami†Dipesh said with his friendly smile. We all were encircling him and Bimaldai. “la mu** ta mero tham ma khel†Bimaldai said and left. Dipesh palyed from our team. He was not great but was not bad either.
The next day, Dipesh came to the ground with gotibhako jutta, half-pants, and a t- shirt. None of us had such goti bhako jutta. We always talked about them but none of us had a pair. Just because he played from our team yesterday, he assumed that he was permanently assigned to our team. He came to our side again. No one protested, though. Slowly, he was accepted in our team and became one of us. He became a close friend of mine. Even Barmu was his buddy now. A couple of days later, he came to the ground writing big no.21 on the back of his white ganji with black sign pen. He was totally into the game. He was a friendly dude. Now, if he didn’t come on time, we all used to miss him. We really enjoyed his talk about Rajbiraj. I became really close to him.
It was just a couple of days before nauratha. We were, as always, gathered at the faant to play football in the afternoon. .....
|
| Deep |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 06:47 AM
Oops! I didn't mean to repost it again. sorry.
Thank you, Balmatlab, Oys, and Nepe for the comments.
Kalankibro, I usually don't save what I post here in sajha. I just type in and post and game over. So, what have I done for you, since you showed interest in reading what I posted, is copied the whole thing and fixed all the boxes (quotation marks). Now, I am sending you this goodbye thing via email. Hope you will find time to read it.
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| rbaral |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 07:08 AM
Deep- This is a masterpiece.
What a writing!
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| isolated freak |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 07:18 AM
A great story indeed. Deep bro, tyo question mark, box .. ulto palto axyar... sabai k ho yaar? Mu** vietnamese restaurant ko menu herya jasto!
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| SITARA |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 09:29 AM
I opened this thread with trepidation. Now, I am glad I did.
Amazing, how well you write. Always, your great fan.
|
| Deep |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 10:06 AM
rbaral sir, IFbro, and Sitara maam,
mero man ta ye ye bhanda bhandai hwattai pulakit bho ni. Thanks for reading and commenting.
"Deep bro, tyo question mark, box .. ulto palto axyar... sabai k ho yaar? Mu** vietnamese restaurant ko menu herya jasto! "
tyaita IF bro. barbad bho ni. type nai nagarya characterharu-- sirman matrai bolako chhorako byama "Chule" bolako jhai gari srimati ra gang chor-chhori liyera aa jasto --jammai aaichhan.
Ek chhin ek chhin--oo Sanbro ko dailok sunya jasto lagyo---
"Sajhapurwalon, jara jhak kar dekho apne apne posting mei --- sajhapurme San ki taap se tum logoun ko kebal ek hi aadmi bacha sakta hai--Khud San!---eski badle me ham thoda donesan mangte hai to kya julm karte hain? hum kahate hain koi julm nahi karte..."
donesan dine bela bho jasto chha.
:)
Narisaunu hos hai.
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| rbaral |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 10:35 AM
Deep, your writings bring life to sajha. Please do write more often.
Baru, haat kasto chha? Thik bho?
|
| Deep |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 01:30 PM
"Baru, haat kasto chha? Thik bho?"
Kaha hunu? balla balla haat dukhaudai lekheko--IF bro Viyatnami menu jasto ke ho bhanchha!
bharyangka khudkila sakiyeholan bhanera samma thauma tekne style le khutta sareko ta duita khudkilo bakinai re chhan---garlyam gurlum ma ta---haat le ni tyai bela bhau bhetyo--- bottle dher bho bhane kasaile--tara haine ke--dui bottle ta paani kha jasto gari ghutkyaune manchhe hami--ke chal fuskyo fuskyo tyo din--
aba thik hudai chha.
|
| sparsha |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 05:56 PM
Sad!
Sitaraji,
"I opened this thread with trepidation.."
Did Deep disappoint you?
:)
|
| KALANKISTHAN |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 06:14 PM
Bal, Oys, Nepe hazur, baral bro, Iso, Sitara hazur can't go wrong! And above all Deep bro can't go wrong! ;) hehe.. aba ta jyaan gaaye ni 2-3 din padhdina -- Ukush Mukush nabhaye samma padhdina -- I am tryin' to control myself! (controllll yaaar!) hehe...
2-3 din churot chodera ani euta tanna kyaa majja aaucha ni!! eheh!!
Deep Brother, thanks for the email -- dayummm you are the best!!
Aba padhe pachi matrai post garchu! ;)
|
| DWI |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 08:08 PM
Deep
I don't have to commend you on another great narration, we all know by now that you have the talents.
I sense a lot of changes in your style, and that for good. Your old style of starting a story with a piece and coming back to that piece (Oys also does that and so did you in your previous ones) is always refreshing and so relevant.
For some reason, I sensed what was going to happen to Dipesh right around the half of the story. Not a minus point, but something you might ponder upon. It wasn't meant to be a suspense story anyways... yet it did give some chills.
As always, the redundant and non relevant lines always end up being so much important pieces. You utilize them exceptionally well.
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| SITARA |
Posted
on 17-Nov-03 08:19 PM
Sparsha ji:
"Goodbye", a word with such finality to it, nudges too many unknowns. Call it fear factor. Sometimes, I do not want to "burden" myself with disturbing reads. Yes, I am guilty of being a wimp.
So, to answer your question: No!!! far from it, I am glad I did not succumb to my baser instincts to bolt.
:)
|
| san |
Posted
on 18-Nov-03 06:16 AM
Goodbye? ------By Deep.
Dashainko poornima ko parsi palta. Feri aaja pani we were only eleven players on the ground. Nobody wanted to sit out until a partner showed up, same argument once again. I wanted Vaicha to sit out that afternoon. Why Vaicha? Well, who knows when was the last time he offered his position in favor of a fellow player. I don’t remember him ever volunteering to sit out. He was forced to sidelines at times but only when Bimal dai ordered him to do so. He didn’t care for anybody else, and Bimaldai was not there with us to ask Vaicha to sit out. Bimaldai, jaad lagayera tyai kisna madir pachhadi paya bhalirathyo hola. That’s what he used to do most of the time.
Anyway, Vaicha was one heck of “jiddi” dude. He had to play no matter what. Amazingly, even with such continuous record of playing, he was a horrible forward. I guess whenever he said “forward kasto machha jasto” he meant the forward players in the opposing team. He was more like a “rango” as a forward than a “machha”. I argued once again “mu** bhaicha, talai mu** sadhai khelnu parne---ek chhin basna—ahile kohi na kohi ta aaihalchha ni—ani khelnu”. Vaicha simply said, “jha* pani niskinna ma ta”. “Mar ta ma%$#@ alachhina Vaicha”, I said with frustration and came to sideline and sat there watching him and others play. I was waiting for Dipesh to show up any moment now. In fact, I had mentioned to all the dudes that Dipesh is back, and I saw him coming last night in bhutesowr. Ten, or may be fifteen minutes in the game, I saw Bimaldai coming to the ground.
****
We’ve been playing football at this faant for almost a year now. Not sure who owned this piece of land but nobody cared to plant anything in it. So, it was a perfect football ground for us. Just a few months back, we were at this very faant (open field) playing football and a dude showed up. He was a new dude. I had never seen him before and I don’t think none of us there on the ground knew him. Cuz nobody recognized his presence there. We just looked at him once and kept on playing. This new dude seemed, as most of us, in his mid teen age and also seemed friendly. Even though none of us greeted him, he was smiling at us. We didn’t care. I wonder why we were so cold toward him, but we were.
No one asked him if he wanted play with us. May be because we were evenly distributed and no one team could take him as an extra. He stood for a while by the side line then sat by our side of chappal rakhera banako goal post. Barmu was golki (goal keeper) and was guarding the post with vigor. Barmu, I swear I don’t know his real name but he was not a bahun dude for sure, was a good goal keeper but was a bit aggressive. Everyone used to call him Barmu, so I wonder if he would have responded if we call him with his real name. The new dude tried to strike a conversation with Barmu but Barmu didn’t give a damn. Game over and we left the ground. The dude followed us as if he is also one of us. He was not. None of us talked with him that day. Dhungedhara aaunu aghinai he turned right and went inside a house. We knew everyone there in that house so we wondered who the f*&^% is this new dude. Barmu asked, ‘ko ma&^%$ yo? Ma sanga gaf dina aaira bhanya---ma&^%$# lai paanipet ma brucelee cut diu ki jasto lagya thyo—tara feri bhaigo bhanera chhod.diye---uta bata Anile le ball lyaisakyo yo mu** posta aayera kich kich kich---“. We didn’t know who he was.
Next day, he came to football ground again. Bimaldai was also playing that day with us. Bimaldai was in his early twenties and was a well-known street fighter. His full time job was to sit behind the kisna mandir and play paya and bless the nearby bhatti during paya break. His “aasirbad” was required for bhuras like us to roam free in the tole. For some weird reasons, he used to come and play football with us-occasionally. So, the new dude sat by the sidelines today, didn’t dare to go near Barmu who was giving a freaky stare to him. The dude was running to get the out ball all the time. We all knew, he wanted to play but we didn’t want to include him for some unknown reasons. After about half-an hour, Bimaldai declared he is leaving, “la ma&^%$#haru ho, dai ta lagyo aba—timiharu kheli rakh”. We lost the balance. Bimaldai was playing from our team. So without him, we dropped to four and other team had five. No one wanted to sit out in the other team. We were arguing. For any team it was a wining deal to accept five players in the opposite team. If you lose, you say “timiahru panjana, hami char”, if you win, you say, “mu**haru pan-panjana bhera ni—thukka mu**ho.
Suddenly, Bimaldai looked at the new dude and asked, “ye ma&^%$# khelchhas?” The dude immediately jumped in. No one could argue with Bimaldai. “ke ho mu** tero nam?” Bimaldai asked. “Dipesh” The new dude answered. “ta mu** lai ta pahila dekhya chain ta—kaha mu** tero ghar?” Bimaldai asked him again? “Raajbiraj” Dipesh answered. “yaha kaha baschhas?” Bimaldai threw one more question at him? He showed to a house behind some trees and said “there”. “Ka mu** Prakas ka?” Bimal dai asked. “ho, buwako saruwa bhara aako---tyaha dera ma basni hami” Dipesh said with his friendly smile. We all were encircling him and Bimaldai. “la mu** ta mero tham ma khel” Bimaldai said and left. Dipesh palyed from our team. He was not great but was not bad either.
The next day, Dipesh came to the ground with gotibhako jutta, half-pants, and a t- shirt. None of us had such goti bhako jutta. We always talked about them but none of us had a pair. Just because he played from our team yesterday, he assumed that he was permanently assigned to our team. He came to our side again. No one protested, though. Slowly, he was accepted in our team and became one of us. He became a close friend of mine. Even Barmu was his buddy now. A couple of days later, he came to the ground writing big no.21 on the back of his white ganji with black sign pen. He was totally into the game. He was a friendly dude. Now, if he didn’t come on time, we all used to miss him. We really enjoyed his talk about Rajbiraj. I became really close to him.
It was just a couple of days before nauratha. We were, as always, gathered at the faant to play football in the afternoon. We were thirteen players. One had to sit out but none of us wanted to. It was not a new issue. We always used to convince someone to sit out for a while. I asked Dipesh to go to the sideline that day cuz I had done so in his favor just last week. But he refused. We argued, then I got mad and said “mar ta mu**” and came to the sideline. He immediately followed me and said, “bhaigo Deep, you play”. I looked at his face and saw him scared. “kina ke bho?” I asked him back. He didn’t say anything. Since he was not on the ground with other players, the game was stopped and other dudes were calling him. He just stood there with me. “ke bho mu**?” aghi ta niskinna bhanthis ta?” I asked him again. “Why did say that?” He asked me. “Said what?” I asked him? His tone was not of confronting but of resigning. Other guys came to us to know what was going on. “ke bho?” they asked. “khai ma&^%$ ke bho? Yo mu Dipesh ke bhanchha ke---“ I answered. Dipesh asked in some shaky voice, “Why did you say “mar ta”. Everybody laughed. “hya mu** mar ta bhandai ma marchhas ta mu**---la aaija khelna ma ta ma***** k k na bhayo bhanthanya—“ Barmu said. But Dipesh didn’t move.
I felt bad and said “sorry”. Dipesh said, “bhaigo Deep tai khel, I am going to miss the game for many days, anyway.” We all looked at him. “I am going home-Raajbiraj tomorrow for dashain with my parents” He said in a soft voice. Kumar asked, “kaile aauchhas?” “Purnima Pachhi”, Dipesh answered. Now, I really wanted him to play. So, I said, “sorry, Dipesh—maile tyasto naramro bicharle bhaneko haina—ta lai narmaro lagyo? I won’t say it again”. Bidyanas? He asked. Bidyanas, I answered. Feri nabhan hai ta tyasto? He asked. I said, “OK”. He played the whole time. Before he entered his dera-house he shook hand with all of us. We kept quiet for a minute then we laughed at him for his “andhabiswas”. “bholi ghar jana la re chha—mu** bus paltela bhanera dara hola n’ ta” Suraj said and we all laughed again. But I felt sorry for upsetting Dipesh. Man manai I prayed to the God “tyasko bus kehi pani nahos, bhagwan”.
Next day, I listened to the news and there was no news of bus accident. Few more days passed by, no accident news came to us. We all got involved in the dashain extravaganzas. Football was suspended for a few days. Schools were closed for a month. We were having a great time.
Poornimako bholipaltako saanj, I was standing by the bhairavthan feeling chilled air. Bimaldai, Shivadai, and many others were there too. I saw a taxi coming close and turned left toward oralo. I saw Dipesh by the window. He waved at me with his regular friendly smile. I also waved back at him. I was so relieved and happy to see him back. “Dipesh aayechha” I said. “Ko Dipesh?”Bimaldai asked. “tyai praksdai kaha basne”. I answered. “Khai?” Bimal dai asked looking around. “Tyo taxi ma gaisakyo” I pointed at the taxi that just disappeared descending. “maile ta dekhina” Bimaldai said. Well, I didn’t care whether Bimaldai saw him or not, but was so happy to see him back. Couldn’t wait to see him in the ground tomorrow.
****
Dashainko poornima ko parsi palta. Feri aaja pani we were only eleven players on the ground. Nobody wanted to sit until a partner showed up, same argument once again. I wanted Vaicha to sit out that afternoon. Why Vaicha? Well, who knows when was the last time he offered his position in favor of a fellow player. I don’t remember him ever volunteering to sit out------.
I was waiting for Dipesh to show up any moment now. In fact, I had mentioned to all the dudes that Dipesh is back, and I saw him coming last night in bhutesowr. Ten, or may be fifteen minutes in the game, I saw Bimaldai coming to the ground. He seemed fittu. Mu** Bimaldai fitan nabhai aa bhe’nta ma khelna pauthe ni, I thought. Bimaldai came to the side line and stared at me for a second. “He looked weird, I got scared.””ke bho, Bimaldai?” I quickly got up and asked him, then looked around to see which way is the safest one for me to run if this messed up Bimaldai decides to take a swing at me. He grabbed my collar with lightening speed and thundered with puzzeled voice, ‘taile hijo raati Dipeshlai dekhe bhanya haina bhutewswor ma mu**?” I was scared to death. I said, ‘ho dai”. Other players saw Bimaldai grabbing me. The game stopped and all ran toward us. “Ke bho dai?”Suraj asked.
“Mu** Dipesh died yesterday” Bimaldai spoke. We were all stunned. “Kasari?” Barmu asked holding the ball tight against his chest. “bata ma---bus ma---Rajbiraj bata aauda---Prakas was saying---Dipesh jhyal bata tauko nikalera bahira heri ra thyo re---arko pati bata aako busle taukai ma hirkayechha---taukai khattam!----I don’t remember what else Bimaldai was saying after that---because my head was spinning out of control. I was sure I had seen him last night in the taxi waving at me. I was thinking again and again “Was Dipesh last night, then, with his waving his hands saying goodbye to me?”
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| san |
Posted
on 18-Nov-03 06:21 AM
Hey Deep,
The problem with certain characters getting converted to vietnamese menu item have been fixed. Now you can write in word and paste in sajha and it should work fine. Thankfully no donesan was needed :)
San
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| Deep |
Posted
on 18-Nov-03 06:34 AM
Kalanki bro,
Let me know your thought if you read the story, hai.
Haina, what's up with this "trepidation" stuff, huh? Deep le hawa khayo bhanne sanket garyo ki ke ho, Title le? ram ram ram!
DWI,
Thanks for dropping by. "For some reason, I sensed what was going to happen to Dipesh right around the half of the story. Not a minus point, but something you might ponder upon. It wasn't meant to be a suspense story anyways... yet it did give some chills. " This part means a lot to me.
I knew it (half-way through the narration) would give enough sense of potential and ultimate future event. However, seeing Dipesh returning back in hadigau after dashain did counter such sense of definite outcome in me. Perhaps, it didn't work well with others. And you are right, the story was not soliciting any suspense or thriller. I understand we all have different angles of looking at things. I am greatful to you for drawing my attention to the above mentioned point.
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| Deep |
Posted
on 18-Nov-03 07:34 AM
San ko Jay hos!
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| KALANKISTHAN |
Posted
on 26-Nov-03 05:45 AM
Okay, finally got a chance to read new one by Deep bro... tyo pani english version (thanks San), not the vietnamese restaurant ko menu version... Waited almost a week to read it... and it was absolutely worth it. Kyaa deadly narration huncha yaar Deep bro ko, "ko ma&^%$ yo? Ma sanga gaf dina aaira bhanya---ma&^%$# lai paanipet ma brucelee cut diu ki jasto lagya thyo—tara feri bhaigo bhanera chhod.diye---uta bata Anile le ball lyaisakyo yo mu** posta aayera kich kich kich---" lol -- I had almost forgotten that word - Paanipet. Strange it may seem, but you talk about haadigau and I visualize kalankisthan... yeah, there was this huge bina-kheti wala jagga, where we used to play football. Yeah, there was this dude, a new dude, who came somewhere from Nepalgunj or something. There was sauni-ko-tharra-ma masta "fighter" dai... LOL!!! Dayummm dude, parallel universe? :P
Nice nice,
Aru khoi ta?
kalanki
(Thanks for the email.)
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| sparsha |
Posted
on 27-Nov-03 08:32 AM
Kamal Rupakheti (?)
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| Biswo |
Posted
on 27-Nov-03 03:08 PM
Thanksgiving ko maukaa paarera Deep daiko kathaa padhiyo. Great experience, like always, from the creator of a classic "Mardako chhoro".
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| Doctor Bee |
Posted
on 27-Nov-03 07:18 PM
I am unfamiliar to those curses, but thats fine. I would want to be unfamiliar. lol.
Deep Bro vs. Gunaraj vs. Nepe vs. Mickthestick...etc.
This is like a story-writing competition.
Doctor Bee
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| Deep |
Posted
on 28-Nov-03 05:42 AM
Kalanki bro,
vyaiyo hoina ta? la thik chha.
Biswobro and Datsav,
dhannebad hai.
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