Yes, I 'm Encircled with Dubious Masculinity (part-2)

MP Kharel, Kathmandu

(Mr. Kharel is author of Pustanter, novel in Nepali.)

 For part-1 of this entry please click here.

"Thanks...sorry I didn't become succeed to invite. I am hopeful you'll not mind" She recently replied. "Its okay Srijana. I don't mind on such menial matter. But REMEMBER! My humanity never dares to dismantle your dream by publicizing our passé relation. Your nominalization me of 'Masculintiless' has also taught me new ideas, new spirit and new vision on my life." I boldly typed this message and made deliver. On this occasion, I felt infinite enterprising and dauntless. Actually, my immeasurable and incalculable venturesome...I realized: "I am as courageous as Hitler, who had aimed and commenced the campaign to be an emperor of this world." 

Someday later, I was in busy to make networking in internet. I was adding many friends through facebook. So long gap months, I had an encounter with a master level classmate. We were going to be indulged in facebook-chat.

"Where do you stay now?" He asked.
"Kirtipur" I replied.
"Still living Kirtipur!" He expressed so amazing.
"Why do you so surprise?" I questioned.
"Gender hasn't been distinguished! Are you androgyny...To be a masculine or feminine, you should leave Kirtipur." Amazingly burst out.

"Oh Suman! What do you want to say?" I also bewildered.
"You don't know Kirtipur! ... Hahaha...Kirtipur is really similar to TS Eliot's The Waste Land." He explained.

I contemplated some minutes and memorized my novel. And reacted,"Sumanjee, its okay. I didn't become succeed to aestheticize European and American society's degeneration, deterioration and retrogression similar to TS Eliot, but I am attempting to aestheticize the degenerated and retrograded as well as some dynamic portion of Kirtipur circumstances. PUSTANTAR is the inception of this campaign."

"Pustantar never satiates your stomach...It's not testimony of your manliness-masculinity..."His utterances were combination of unkind and sarcastic.

"Where do you stay now?" I asked.
"I'm in Australia. I've arrived here on the support of wife's dependency VISA. I am a fugitive." He replied so lightly that even didn't mind his status.

"Did you find Bible's Garden of Eden or Hindus' Ramrajya or Karl Marx's Utopian communism in Australia?" I had also unconsciously turned into so rudeness.

"I can't change your mind. Leave it." He was still dogged on his standpoint.
"Suman! This is not a right time to judge my masculinity. Time will prove this manliness." I was nearly turned into a cool. The computer informed disconnection. Our facebook tête-à-tête' was broken off.

Mood was so hangover. I opened my window and took a little peep at Dudhpokhari route; the milieu was affected by moisture; overwrought provision did not grant me a permission to be liberated .Unexpectedly, my door was knocked. Without my arm-twisting, the door was unbolted. With the unlocking entrance, there appeared intimated physique.

"Oh Soltee! Welcome!" Pretending of a candid greeting, I tried to suppress my all pressure and anxiety. I took a dekko at his countenance; his physiognomy gave an impression of wretchedness.
"What happened Soltee?" I asked eagerly.

"Life has been surrounded with ill-fated," He opened mouth so restlessly, "I have made all settlement myself, but never gone to anyone for any kind of begging. I rather slept on the pavement..."

"What happened...Tell me clear-cut!" I forced him.
"I was summoned repeatedly by father-in-law since my married with his niece. Avoiding my daily hectic livelihood, I went his home. But I felt greatly insulted," He told irately.
"What did he say?  "I asked.

"He advised me to go US or UK. Otherwise, my prestige among our relatives can't reach as a high-profile," Spoke going on raising his left hand, "Soltee, could touch a man's high-profile only going to US and UK?"

"No. It depends on your perspective. Current fad of brain-drain may have brought such feeling on your father- in-law's mind." It was my guessing.

"I'm not so interest to go abroad. I can earn here 30-40 thousand per month. He compelled me to drop out my helmet tutor occupation... instructed me that manliness is shown up with money, name and fame." He soliloquized when I had gone out of room.

I paid attention to the vista of east. The sun was arising with so embarrassingly because gloomy and dismal sky wasn't so clear up. Sun's colossal casting light on was- in comparatively-overwhelmingly and invincible potential than transient foggy ambience. I gazed at my soltee's new manliness and full-blooded spectre.

In the latest year Dashain, I had gone my home-Ghorahi. I made the acquaintance with my relatives and intimates. I garnered new energetic animation-really experienced so long hiatus gathering and junction. It was ill-starred that in spite of squandering so longer days with my kinship and intimates, I hadn't frittered so with my mum Last day's residual, we-mum and me-were so indulged into chit-chat of our bygone days. 

She was mocking me memorizing my roguish performances of babyhood, boyhood, schooldays and teen days. I felt astute nostalgia of my infancy. Until now, several events weren't faded into oblivion from my cerebrum: My father's chore to going several paddy-fields like Jaruwa, Arkhale, Bagar, Sijari, Liskhola, Lighadhara and Gaira; his perseverance on cultivation in spite of his chronic-asthma; his untimely demise; when I was 10 years; our family members-mum, senior two brothers, sister-in- law, five sisters-troublesome because of none was so accustomed to housework settlement; my eldest and elder brothers drop out their studies; big unfavorable and critical situation compelled to migrate in Dang, Laxmipur; bullying and intimidating of so called aboriginal Dangali to new migrants;  confrontation with them because of my  rebellious and resistant spirit; two brothers' departure from family members and their compulsion to go outlandish because of poverty sufferings: my daydream of to be a doctor or engineer after  my SLC result in first division and economic calamity shattered that dream and so on. Apparently, those events were melanges of acidic pain and suffering of our family settlement.

While I was so indulged in nostalgia feeling, my mum suddenly questioned, "Kanchha! Why didn't you serious to get permanent governmental job even completion of MA?"

Suddenly, her question made a pause of recollecting past flashback. In addition, there brought a massive befuddlement to face with mum. At this point, I essayed to examine introvert myself. My insightful epistemology and conviction was so lofty that I had disowned an assortment of opportunity of governmental job and political carrier. My attitudedness never gave an allowance to be so restrained, servile, sycophantic, obsequious and submissive governmental engagement. My insightful always allowed me to be nomadic, autonomous, free-thinking, non-conformist, non-partisan and open-minded proclivity.

"How did I rear up you?" She was pouring anger towards me.
"What happened Jei?" I asked.
"I'm not satisfied with your way of life. You are still depended upon your brothers!" She expressed her dissatisfaction.

Suddenly striding up, I kept on my eyes on the roadside. Near the road, cow was lactating her calf. While observing that lactating panorama; I saw a senile cow was going to be enfeebled and sometimes kicked off her kneel onwards calf; senility had made her compulsion the kicking off her kneel.

"Don't you feel ashamed to bring money from brothers...?" Some break of sound again I listened the repeated words of Srijana, "You don't have quality of masculinity as being a male"

Her humming, muttering, murmuring and regurgitating was going to feel me no vaunted potential free-thinker and open-minded persona. A few months ago, I had publicized my first creative work-Pustantar, and this was haunted in mind: "Publicity is so relaxed in Nepalese writing market, but in real, quality writing and interior jeremiad of author is utterly abnormal and distinguishable." I was largely cognizance on this matter and aware of my much promoted and hyped writing was basically dependended upon two brothers' patronage and intimate niece Ram Prasad Pokhrel's subsidizing. Otherwise, my ballyhoo was like a play card's mansion propped in the air. My massive contemplation of masculine, heroic, macho, chivalrous, and vigorous might be completed when I will touch these utterances of Washington Irving: "The only happy author in this world is he who is below the care of reputation." At this juncture, I was only positioned on nadir. Zenith of my writing carrier was like a daydream. Culmination of this carrier was only hovering in the airy sky. But at this critical phase, optimism had not still faded out. I was just accompanying with hope, expectation and my strenuous exertion.

On the another side, I never dared to divulge this ambitious, zealous and energetic as well as  collage of airy, oscillated, tentative, shaky and  precarious enterprising with my intimates and kinship. I had  well-known the penchant of mates and kinships to make  safety living   by gratifying and flattering the despoiled and sullied  political moguls. As a result, my mum's face to face unavoidable reverberation of 'masculinity' 'manliness' had turned me like a mute comedian spectator. My craving of grinning and gladdening at a creative and productive pinnacle was strolling and sauntering with abundant vulnerably, even in the preliminary phase. All my corporeal cerebrum and awareness was  tacitly approving: "Yes, I am encircled with dubious masculinity." 

Time had imparted the unexpected, surprising, unhoped, unshaped, unplanned, unlooked, unpredictable, unforeseen and unusual sophistication. I had rampant acclimated and envisaged life so distinctively and bizarrely. Clarity of juvenile existence had- sometimes, veritably it makes different-brought a vicissitude. On this U-turn, I was copiously endorsed with Nepalese renowned poet, Tulasi Diwasa, who recites assertively: "Life is more unknown than known, unplanned than planned, unthoughtful than thought, unpredictable than predictable. But there is a certain charm in this unknown...And it is this unknown that makes life worth living, otherwise life would be very mechanical. That is why I want to live (Himalayan Times: Sept 5, 2009)".

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