Blogging Mind!

Since the 90’s then nascent democracy gave him credible & consecutive verdict & above all he was cult figure. But, Last year people’s gavel fell, found him guilty gave him 5yrs of hell. I thought OK! let Maowadi prove it, they have ‘nough verdict.

We the people, the party, the honchos & his cronies, the cadre & coterie, the comrade, and CA representative all unanimously & even the shanty’s poor class people accepted plurality politics, until today, when our very canon of democratic election stands dubiously.

Don’t you really believe, republic is rather misnomer now, Don’t we see its same version of Panchayati Raj where a leader just have to prove being sycophancy.

Today I thought Why at first we went for election when our leaders are so pretentiously blindfolded the very principle of Democratic Republic.

I see blur-future ahead, are we really going to draft first alpha version of our constitution? .

God bless we can!

In early 2000, I have to admit when I first heard about social network, I thought some sucker would be interested in.

And then came back twitter in early 2008, I thought only narcissists would be interested in.

Everytime, I turn blatantly wrong.

What a 9 years of hiatus? ,And after 10 years, I thought I should join social network and harebrained ideas of twitting every damn minute what you just doing.

Now this early dawn when snoring emits as like croaks, I thought to recall some of the worst and the best possess my central memoirs bytes, jellied with the billions of neurons under the soft membranes that (in some worst case) jitter my heart & soul.f

I went the facebook. Typed of some of the earliest coworkers to the worst people I have seen in my 12yrs of selfish career.

I just found 1/3rd of them listed pretty facefully and even with the sweetheart. It refreshed my half-filled cells. These people are just not dead neither me. And the worst, they were grinning lopsidedly as they still hate me like anything. I left was alone, with 15+ buddies list against whopping 200+ of those suckers. I left mere  little hopeless feeling of not being sold out. I cursed myself, why I didn’t love that soc network?

Now I felt to get back to those friends Whom I spent in school and tumultuous college life. Out of 10 School pal, I got none of them listed in any of social network. Luckily, I got 2 merely 5-month-inactive college friends.  I certainly felt a hollow gap. A gap that I got to fill by indulging  with non other than those who I meet so many different ways.

Did The digital  generational gap catch so fast that lead to leave one’s  generation behind?

I sometime felt my generation missed out the nascent Social Network, may be its the whole   generation that missed altogether or May be its my place it missed it.

The pettier part, I thought about the missing buddies, I guess they are now lost generation and embarking a new wave of gap or perhaps god-forbid, are they dead?

and there I realized later how lucky I was. I think I was not dead.  I am still alive.

It coined me in this mid-night-hyderabad of those summer day’s school.  I thought, was that the best summer of my life? As mercury climbs on its breaking level, and blistering heat wave pounds large tracts of Butwal, my parents remind me of hyperthermia to confine within home.

Unlike hilly reason, Butwal perched on the base of Churray hills, like a gateway to plain landscape. Are we lucky though, Indeed we are. Take it a morning jogging or just a strolling, You reach in 15 minutes amid a snaky narrow roads clinging with the steep curvy rocky mountain often mixin of slippery banded gneiss.  You look the left Tenau turning like a creek but empowers with a high current, renders to spin hydraulic turbine of  Butwal Power Company (BPC). And A stiff wind blows like it wants me take back home. Like my flying dream .

The school of summer’s day arrive early dawn for  hill-near-terai-kids with special privileges.  Holiday for a month and eventually a morning school bell at 6:00am sharp.

My school Gyanodaya stands near the bank of Tinau, And the cold fresh whistling breeze tempts me desperately.  I raised dreaming with the stream,  wished it could have turn real. Here to fulfill it, I stands ready with wax polished shoe & clean white and blue attire;  Grab a lunchbox with desperateness of  8:30  interval, And once it break,  my patient blows out off me, and there, myself get the shoes in one hand, and the other my old tiffinbox, bothering little about wet paint but concern to conquest a few meter stone that gracefully stands aside of the river.  The friends that comes a few minute later are just about my picks to share. I unpack my tiffin box, gulp chile-turmic-laced stir-fried rice along with  river’s smell dissove in  a morning cool air. I, as usual  facing towards the north as of favorite viewpoint,  staring scenery where two big Kuheray rock hills embraces and form some kinds of meaningless meaning.