| Username |
Post |
| Parakhi |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 10:50 AM
Churot
© Parakhi
It was in 1990 when I first started to smoke. After initial testing and habituated to it later on, I smoked occasionally for several years. I hate smoking as of today. But it took hell lot of time for me to understand how bad a churot is.
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I started my college on my own effort at the age of sixteen. It will be a separate story why I decided to do so and how I could make my own niche. If situations arise, I will write later. Whatever the cause and mode of action was, I established myself as a good teacher within next three years. I continued my college from the earnings as a private tutor.
It was January 1990. People’s movement was not yet announced. I had finished my intermediate in agriculture and results were not yet published. I was running on my final ‘teens. Heck, I would rather tell it ‘a joke to teen life’ if you call it a teen life. Tanna ketiharu bidhyarthi thiye tara kahile pani kuchh kuchh bhayena…
I taught at a public school in Chitwan for 12 days before a graduating senior came to claim that position. I was given a choice by the school management committee, either to commit for one full year of service at school or leave the position. I better left that school as I had to continue my bachelors in agriculture after few months. Instead, I continued my tuition classes for upcoming SLC exams.
I had just finished few groups of my private tutoring when Himlal sir, the headmaster of a high school in Gorkha, arrived in Chitwan in search for a science and agriculture teacher. Few people suggested my name to him. He offered me a bachelors’ level salary for the services and I agreed.
Within next 24 hours of our meeting, I was in Phujel. The next day was public holiday. I started my job as a full-time public school teacher on my 19th Birthday.
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| continued.... |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 10:51 AM
Life was difficult yet funny. I was offered a place to live and food for free by few villagers in exchange for my expected services to guide their children in the morning and evening. I decided to stay with one of the teacher’s family. I was given a quiet private place in Dhansar. There was a Dhinki on the side in the basement. Ladies worked in Dhinki every other day in the morning.
There was a lisno to climb to Dhansar from the side of Dhinki. Dhansar had lot of space. It was cleaned, lip-pot and removed of any unnecessary items. There were only two Mandre Bhakaris which contained kodo (millet) in one and corn (makai) in other. My bed was on the side of north facing window that opened to the Galli (trail) that went through the school. Of course there was a small tauwa on its side.
I had Ganesh, Thakur and Gita to mentor after school. I usually returned from school before five. Until seven, these kids would help their mother and do some homework on their own. Ganesh was in grade eight, Thakur in four and Gita just started going to school. Gita was the smartest and so lovely too. After meal, they used to come to my place at eight and would stay for a couple of hours. They would go to bed early and come to me again in the morning before meal.
Once they were gone, I would be alone. At night, Lokharke (squirrel) would come to steal the millet. I never chased them away. I enjoyed their persistent chirping “Lok---Lok---khar---ke” all night whenever I awoke at night.
Nothing for entertainment and no friends to roam around, I often felt bore at night. Dhruba, Himlal sir’s younger brother, would give me company to visit to the hills and rhododendron forests. Most of the time, I went alone to Bhairab mandir that stood atop the hill above the whole village. It became part of my regular activity after coming back from school by the second or third month.
All was going as routine. Suddenly, I invented an idea “oh, how about smoking?”.
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In the third month of my stay in Phujel, I decided to give a damn trial to churot. It was Thursday. I went to Bhairab mandir after coming back from school. There was a small ghumti pasal near chautara on the trail to the temple. Only few villagers knew me in person. On the way back to my residence, I stopped by the shop and asked for three Yak churots and a box of matches.
“La, sir le pani churot khani?”. A voice came from inside the shop.
I was surprised to hear this voice. I looked carefully at the shopkeeper. He was Dharme, one of my students in ninth grade.
“Chakhne ni aaja.” I said.
He gave me what I asked. I paid two rupees and climbed down the hillside to reach my residence.
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| continued.... |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 10:52 AM
Dinner was ready. Hajoorama of the house had cooked meat in the meal that night. When a khasi (goat) was slaughtered, every part of the body was divided among the sharers equally. So, in the share of the house was some bhundi. Hajooraama cooked as such, mixing those little bhundi with other meat. It was great – I liked the smell, though, bhundi had spoilt the taste. In Chitwan, we always boiled and cooked Bhundi separately. Later Meghanath sir was angry with his aged mother the other day.
I sent back Thakur and Gita early that night. Ganesh stayed with me for another half an hour until it was nine. I sent him off too. I was excited with the thought of testing churot for the first time.
I lit the match and fired the churot. As I never watched closely how other people smoked, I engulfed all the smoke inside my lungs. I coughed vigorously….yet didn’t gave up smoking. I went on puffing.
I did not know when I was over with the churot testing. When I woke up in the middle of night, the radio was still on, tuki went off after the kerosene finished and the churot’ko thuto was on the window. I was dozed by the Yak. I didn’t know, I would have burned the dhansar that night. Thanks god, I would not.
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After the testing, I started to smoke one cigarette every night. Sometimes I used to smoke at day time, too. I had very small stature. Darhi junga had not grown to their capacity yet. It looked very odd for me to smoke.
“Parakhi Sir, you will be pakka churote one day”, Himlal sir told me one day.
“No, no, I would not be habituated”, I said to him.
However, I did not give much attention to Himlal sir’s remark and continued to smoking. Later I was really habituated to smoking. It was a problem when I started drinking after a year or year and a half later. I used to smoke in chain. Just lit the new churot with the old burning thuto. I did not smoke at day time and usual conditions. But during and after drinks, I continued my chain smoking until 1996.
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| Final part |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 10:53 AM
After ten months of service at Phujel, I returned to my college. I finished my B.Sc.Ag. and joined an NGO working in agricultural research and development. As my job advanced, so did my drinking and chain smoking. Again I was placed in remote hill station as a district coordinator of the program – another loneliness saga.
A year went by. It was later decided that every district coordinators would come to the headquarters for one year. So, I was ready to move. . I knew new step would be reshuffling the outreach research stations and I would not be coming back to the same old place. I went to visit my colleagues from district headquarters to bid a good bye.
It was June 1996. My colleagues from other offices had a party for my farewell. I drank and danced at the party. I left the party just before midnight. I reached the guest house and asked Govinda (the attendant) to bring two packets of churot. I used to smoke shikar (pack of 10) then. I started my chain smoking, thuta-after-thuta. I did not exactly know what time I went flat on my bed.
Next morning I woke up at nine. There was no hang over from alcohol. I did not take much alcohol the night before. It was my experience that one should not drink much the night before if one has to walk the next day.
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I found myself in the hell. The whole room was badly smelling. I thought for a while and counted the churot ko thuto. I had smoked 13 churots before I went flat the night before. Hell… I was still alive. My whole body was smelling, all the clothes in the room including my belongings and the bed were smelling smoke. My mouth was smelling like an epicenter of earthquake which emits sulphur and other dirty gases.
I hated churot at that point. I hated myself being slave of it. I remembered my friend Mahesh’s statement when he gave up churot:
Na ta bhok tarchha
Na ta pet bharchha
Yo paji churot
Kina piunu parchha
My first churot sent me unconscious and I gave up churot after coming from unconsciousness from chain smoking event. Since then I have not touched a single churot.
--- xxx ---
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| non-smoker |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 01:38 PM
Katha meetho chha. Alive picture of phujel village.
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| Mr_P |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 04:32 PM
Are you from Phujel non-smokerji?
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| Jhapali mitra |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 05:30 PM
Parakhi jee,
nice churot kahani,,
in fact we all learn these habits out of interest to try new experinces which soon turns into a regular habit.
And after ur churot habit in Phujel,, u seem to have gone for ur BSc Ag,, guess it was in IAAS Chitwan,, hoo??? . After u were used to smoking and went to IAAS,, didnt u get good smoking compnay from Gupta Sir (Narshing Prasad Gupta) and the evening Rampur ko jad pasals (we often went together with him to ramur bazar for drinks,, and he always preferred one of the bhattis which was located just in the rampure main street towards Sharadanagar,, he preferred that place coz he likes koila maaa poleko masu (meat burnt in charcoal) which was available in that bhatti.
we had quiet a few happy moments with Gupta sir.
Jay desh
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| Biswo |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 05:36 PM
>Na ta bhok tarchha
>Na ta pet bharchha
>Yo paji churot
>Kina piunu parchha
Let's suggest this in stead of "Dhumrapaan Swaasthyako Laagi Haanikaarak Chha"
in Radio advertisement:-)
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| non-smoker |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 07:50 PM
Although I am not from Phujel but I finished my school education from one of gorakha's high school and I know this place. I am familiar with teacher's such kind of lifestyle who come from another places for teaching purposes. Pahad's schools are manily lack of local maths, science etc. teachers and these subjects are taught by non-local teachers. For example; my agriculture teacher was from rautahat, science teacher from India(speaks nepali well, he taught science in chitawan(mangalpur)'s highschool. Math teacher from Borlang(gorakha and he had not finished his I.ED. yet at that time).
In pahadi villages, There are lack of modern room separeted houses. They are mostly two storey buildings with 'dalan'. In ground floor, There is 'pindhi' outside where people can seat in falaincha and gossip. in another side,there could be 'janto'(grinding machine of stone for grinding maize, millet etc.). If some guests come to their home, upper floor of 'dhansar' is arranged for sleeping purpose as you mentioned above. In ground floor, there are dhiki, daurako chang and some cows/goats.....typical village life.
I know many persons who come from another place to be a teacher in pahads they have a same kind of life style as you mentioned above[but might not be same for starting smoking habit:-)].
After reading your posting, I am also thinking about my high school's teachers. Becoming nostalgic ....
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| Nepe |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 09:09 PM
Parakhi's story is making me nostalgic too. I have a pretty similar experience of being a school teacher in Nuwakot. I had my first experience of drinking there which I am faithfully continuing till today. I spent thirteen emotionally stormy and politically receding months there. Got drunk in every Saturdays, bhojs and jatras. Been to several wedding journey and a funeral too. One interesting janti was from Nuwakot to Dhuwakot, a whole day walk. Participated in an abduction of a bride with her consent for a friend. Learned to write Bintipatra. Compiled the first few love poems of my life. And what not.
I started to smoke while I was still in High school. I too used to smoke heavily while drinking and while writing something. I quit smoking some five years ago. I found a graceful and sure way to quit smoking. I am thinking to patent it.
Thanks Parakhi for sharing your story.
And I support Biswo's suggestion.
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| Paschim |
Posted
on 07-Jul-02 09:32 PM
Parakhi-ji, very interesting narration. Thanks. By the way, I know Phujel very, very well. It's my mama-ghar. My mama-ghar is in Pauwa, en route to the Gurung village of Kaudi.
I was there last in 1998, but in Kathmandu last month just for a few days, my mama had come to see me from Phujel. The good news is, they have now finally constructed a dirt road to Phujel from Gorkha bazaar and after the monsoons, one will be able to take a motor vehicle there. The bad news is, one of the sweetest, and most decent men on Planet Earth that I have known was hacked to death two months ago by the insane butchers that go by the name of Maoists. Yam Prasad Dhakal? You know him? and his shop? You haven't been to Phujel if you don't know him. Yes, he was murdered. The Maoists are said to have regretted the act the very next day (too late by then) when thousands of people from Phujel, Darbung, Makaising and all neighboring villages mourned the shocking death of this most fine village gentleman.
Anyways, delighted to find a Phujel connection on Sajha. Please send me an email at kautilya100@yahoo.com
The last time Phujel was in the news was when Kabibar Madhav Ghimire's famous musical "Malati Mangale" was performed at the Academy. I don't remember if it was the character of Malati or Mangale who is supposed to be a Kaji from Phujel. Laxmi Shrestha, the winsome wife of Nepal's famous dance instructor, Basanta, played Malati.
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| NK |
Posted
on 08-Jul-02 09:00 AM
Parakhi, It could have been titled just as well, "A Lonesome Heart." I found the story moving. I did not know smoking could be as intoxicating as alcohol if one consumes in a big number until my husband told me his experience. Smoking cigarette after cigarette, pack after pack he was writing for 16 hours on his thesis.... and suddenly he found himself in a hospital bed! He never smoked a cigaretter after that day.
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