30 +

I was barely an 11-year-old kid when I was admitted as a boarding student in Gandaki Higher Secondary Boarding School. That meant I would have a good schooling life but my family life was like 3 months a year. Catching the pinpoint, the essential years when I should have spent my years learning Life 101, I had someone who would do everything for me. I never had to cook food for those 9 years because I had a grand Dining Hall entourage to do that, and I would pack my dirty clothing for a week or so to give it to the laundry. Things were not going to be as parasitic it was for rest of the life.

Getting into Pokhara Unversity for the undergraduate study was the perfect setting to stay attached to home. I am very grateful for all those circumstances that pushed me a step closer to home. Now I was back to all those life processes to be accomplished on my own. Well, I bet you won’t let your mommy wash your clothes when you are already in your twenties. You are not well-off to afford a washing machine or you do not have a maid then you better be ready to waste some muscle to wash your clothes and so was my case. I could barely cook something that would taste right. The only thing I could cook that would taste perfect was TEA. I guess no one would use the term “cook” for preparing TEA ha ha !!!!! , yes preparing is the right word.
     
Life was going to be strange for next 4 years in Pokhara University and I was dead sure of that. The first thing I imagined,after I got admitted to PU, was that hanging myself in the gangway of the bus where all the people are staring at me (I was pretty sure that my parents would not afford me a motorbike). Till date, I had never ever used a vehicle to go to study. To accept the new faces was the hardest of all when I had left behind the 9 years of acquaintances. Rakes and Umesh were luckily the only people who continued to be my classmates. For god’s sake I was not going to feel alienated in that desert.

Computer lab meetings was one of the greatest ways to see new faces ( besides sports). I had started connecting to people through Facebook. Two new guys, seemingly arrogant, were going to have my friend request. The first talk between us was about my profile picture that had my hand barred on C#m chord on my guitar and the whole picture was in X-ray effect.

“This chord must be C#m “ – Sashank
“ Yes, I feel the same “ -Anish
Me - “ yes, it is ”

Music brought us together, and so did the football. Football was a common bond. We were soon the best buddies talking wild about music, sharing songs and football tournament bridged the every spaces between us : Me, Anish and Sashank.

The real woes began when I was home alone. November 2009 I joined PU and March 2010 my mom was out for a tour with dad. She was in Butwal to visit Lumbini. For a week or so I would cook for my self. I started getting lazy and I cooked just enough so that food would last for the evening and I would just warm it up and do not have to cook again as I get home in the evening. One normal evening I ate so- called stale food after warming. Next day I was in the college and I sensed something wrong inside my stomach. It was flatulence. That day, I hesitantly had chowmein in Machhapucchre restaurant. In the evening, I did not feel like eating any thing but I prepared
noodles. By the bedtime my situation was worse. The time must have been around 9 pm when I first vomited and that contained fresh chowmein and noodles strands. After a while, I had to facilitate for the first loose motion . It went like sssshhhhh….frrrrrrrr­rrraaaaaaaaa….. ahhaa… ha ha.

For rest of the night in every 5, 10, 15 or 30 minutes interval I went to bathroom to release my sin. I was rapidly dehydrating. My lips were dry and started to split. My muscles were already weak. I frantically searched the medicine box and found an ORS packet and Metronidazole with diloxanide. I took Metro on stat. ORS just lasted an hour. Through the moaning midnight  situation was getting worser. I found Knorr Mushroom soup in the kitchen. It lasted another hour. I was hungry and I made Rara Noodles soup. By then, I had almost used every utensils in the kitchen. I tried a lot but hardly managed to get a good sleep. It was 3 am in the morning when I got out of bed to head to the bathroom then I fell to the ground. I was feeble. Taking support of all the limbs I managed to clear once again. I was completely alone, not even the people on the rent were home that day. I did not feel like bothering anyone in the middle of the night. I must have had a good sleep after that. First thing I did in the morning was calling Sashank to take me to the hospital. He took me home and nursed me pretty well. I had a check up and took medicine. By the evening, almost after 20 hours, I was feeling better. I am highly indebted to what Sashank did to me. Today is 5th December, Sashank’s 23rd birthday. And I wish him every bit of happiness. Well, writing this memoir is kind of birthday gift and also those shits I had released on counting 30 +.