Darkness Beneath the Light

 One hazy winter day, I along with my friend had to go to Lainchaur for a work to be done. We got on to a microbus reaching old bus park.  The microbus was packed and we had to complete our journey without having being seated in microbus. A boy who seemed to be in his early teen asked us for our fare. Upon giving him our fare and student identity card, he passed our identity card to the driver to scrutinize them. I then had a feeling that he did not know how to read or write. Eventually, he returned our identity card after verification from the driver who, for us, seemed articulate enough to know the expiring date of the card.

 We then started our journey towards New Road on walk. Near Keshar Mahal, building of Education Ministry, my eyesight caught two children sniffing the drugs in the used packet of milk. I also overheard them quarreling with each other using vulgar words which would have been very hard for normal people to digest.The incident was under surveillance of several policemen but they all were stoic. The Policemen were rather entertained by the act of those children contrary to what we expect them to do in these situations. Furthermore, the body looking after the education sector is Educational Ministry near which the very incident had taken place.

Few meters ahead, some kids of school going age were begging for money; claiming they felt hungry but had no money.   I really felt pity of our country from the incidents that I witnessed in quick succession of time.  Slogans of child right or education for all seemed not to have existed for those children I came across. It was ludicrous to have witnessed such things in front of the Ministry which looks after educational system of the country. And, lack of education is root cause of these problems. The incident was clear illustration of the proverb, darkness beneath the light.

 Country, now, is preparing to draft a new constitution. In these circumstances, the prerogative rights of the children such as to read and write should be ensured in new constitution. Also, the constitution should be implemented pragmatically and not  within the words of constitution only. Government, Ministry of Education (MOE), several non-governmental organizations looking for the welfare of children needs to be more focused to their task.

Let times come as such, that no child would be a bus conductor or get engaged in any menial labor work but all would get an opportunity to read. Let those streets be occupied by cheerful faces who promise to lead the country in the path of success, one day.

Amid the Season of Revolutions

Chetan Bhagat is a familiar name for young readers characterized by his simplicity in writing, humor in sentiments, and ability to touch the hearts of youths by exploring the youth contents in his novels. Revolution 2020 is his latest book emphasizing on love, corruption and ambition. This is a story of a place called vanarasi of India and revolves around three school friends Raghav, Gopal and Aarati,.

Gopal hails from a poor family who loses his mother at an early age and lives with the father who rarely had any time  to prepare him a lunch for school while Raghav belongs to a  well off family who had far better economic status than his friend. Raghav believes in revolution, a change, while Gopal believes in money but they both love the same girl, Aarati.

   Raghav gets into an IIT college while Gopal fails to do so in his first attempt. He then joins IIT entrance preparation course in Kota leaving his father and his beloved friend Aarati apart in Vanarasi for entrance for next year.  In the process, he loses his bonding with Aarati who was inclined to IITian Raghav . The major blow for him comes when he loses his father after being unable to make it to an IIT college after two successive attempts.

 The story gets an interesting turn over when Gopal utilizes his disputed land with his uncle to establish a college by taking a support from corrupted MLA Sukla. Raghav, an IIT graduate, on the other hand decides to get into revolutionary journalism to make his desired changes changing the pattern observed by most of IIT graduates. The Novel offers unobvious and dramatic twists as two friends turn into enemies. Their adopted profession takes them toward next level of rivalry, rather a cold one, one taking the use of corrupted system for his goal  while other denouncing it through media for his desired changes. Lots of drama is then revealed   when Aarati , girlfriend of Raghav ,then gets inclined to Gopal after high profile of Gopal and low times of Raghav. Story nevertheless ends in a good note after plenty  more of struggle for love, success and happiness in Gopal's life.

Chetan Bhagat

 Bhagat, who has been tagged as a cheap writer by the critics has so largely strengthen his writing this time around. The battle between two talented and ambitious friends for their dream and love makes the script so flowing with suspense which unleashes chronologically.  Revolution 2020 is one heck of a novel which could shut all sort of cynicism about Bhagat's writing and there should be no one arguing that this is by far the best novel by him.

The novel is an obvious option for reading for youths like us who should look for the change in our (corrupted) system .Moreover, It would be a no surprise if this story gets turned up into another Bollywood Blockbuster like 3 Idiots (5 point Someone), Hello (One night at a call centre) both of whom are written by Chetan Bhagat himself.        

Bidding Farewell !!

The day was perfect; bright shafts of unimpeded light and zephyr added perfection to the perfect day. The scenario in itself had its significance to the event. Former gave the metaphor of exposure to the wider world we were to get incorporated with and latter the sensation of something moving, leading indeed, on their contrast. It was the last day of our glorious college days.

Feelings ambivalent. Last day at college does not feel good no matter how good the scenario might look like.That was the last time we, teachers, students and college staffs,were at the same place, same attire and same way.All of the sudden it felt like unbreakable relationships have been snapped out of nowhere. Frankly saying, we all were contained with our emotions and I could feel even the hashes of the voices were chocked in melancholy.Yes, parting is painful but we were, at the end, happy to leave the college by achieving for what we had joined the college two years ago. Nevertheless, I felt little sad for leaving place and people  that bear as a part of my identity.

College days, I feel, were the best day of my life and these days passed like a happy dream in very quick succession of time. I will definitely miss everything that my college offered to me from reprimanding assemblies and college lectures to extra-curricular exposure and exciting tours to delightful smell of canteen to pungent smell of chemistry laboratory. Most of all, I will miss the very heart of my experience as a student; my friends and teachers. I must have my sincere gratitude to my teachers, for all the lessons they taught-lessons that extended beyond the walls of classroom. And thanks to my colleagues who had constantly been with me in my high as well as low times. Thanks everyone.

The sweet memories of my college days have made an impact on soul and self. We, however, will now make our journey on the foundation laid by our college. We may veer from the premise of our second home but memories remain afresh in our mind and heart forever. As Oliver Holmes says where we love is our home , home that our feet may leave but not our hearts. Farewell College days!

Need Potatoes?

For last couple of weeks, I have not been able to go out and spend my spare time elsewhere. I am, now, locked in the walls of rooms preparing for the A levels finals. But, let me be honest, I am not giving my cent percent effort in this. I spend half of my potential reading time watching television, surfing net or sleeping. However, this time has given me an opportunity to witness a weird kind of incidents around the place. It is not that I have not had experience of these things before but not like this time which has actually triggered me write on these. Or maybe I had not given so much of attention to these things before.

   In all of the days that I was at home, I always heard some loud voices tempting to lure the attraction of people. The intensity of this sound so loud that even a person in his deepest of sleep would awake. As for me, I always got out of my seat by the voice that came out of nowhere. It either used to be vegetable seller, fruit seller, or KAWAD WALA (as we call them). The two former would ask the people whether they wanted some and the latter asked whether they had some to sell them, bottles and old newspaper of course. One thing that made me laugh was the language of fruit and vegetable seller. Their appeal would sound like they needed some rather than they were at our doors to sell theirs. By the way, what would one understand when someone says "AAlU CHAEEYE, PYAAJ CHAEEYE". Using simple logic it meant the person needed some potatoes and more.  Did not it?

Similarly, I got surprised by the zeal of children around the place. It was again the loudness of the voice that took me by surprise. Every time electricity was cut off or back again, they would shout on loud voice either "BATTI GAYO" Or "BATTI AAYO". They, for me, at one instance, apparently seemed like messengers, kind of what we still have in my real home back in Parbat. We call them "KATUWAL" there. They shout information that has to be parted to the general people from a place that is audible to most of the people. I tell you what they are very effective means of communication in places like ours.  It may be their impact, the children's, that other older members also started doing the same but this time with few decibels less. So, every time the line came back people shouted in jubilation probably more intense than for a much awaited goal by Nepalese strikers.

Shouting has been both compulsion and hobby for Nepalese. Call it the struggle of 2007 B.S. or mass uprising of 2047 B.S. or April revolution of 2062/2063 B.S. Nepalese have shouted in roads for their freedom , for their voices to be heard and for their plead of change. We shout in our house, our leaders in house of Parliament. We shout in streets, cinema hall, stadium, public places (you understand what I mean), public vehicles and just everywhere and in almost every occasions.

When a player from opposing team scores a century in England, assumed to be most civilized country of the world, everyone applauses the effort. If a player from opposing time scores a century in our soil, we yell at him, we shout at him and we may even go to the extent of throwing some stone at him. Pathetic, is not it? Someone once said this particular behavior of South Asian people have pushed their civilization a step backward. But, still we shout, still we feel o so comfortable in shouting. The shouting habit as it goes.