NEWS: December 5, 2013

Since everybody was writing about Mandela, I thought I should share what I think too. I haven't researched much other than a few articles that told me about his death and what kind of person he was.

Paul Walker's death filled my Facebook news feed with friends' statuses paying him tribute. Responses to Mandela's death were comparatively less, but did give me a view of people's knowledge of Mandela. The Time reported that his name was high on the list of most admired people. My major observation was that people knew about him. Even better, they know he was a good person. It will be long before someone like him emerges and gives people a reason to believe there are good people in the world. But Mashable shared his quote this Morning which I quote here too, "Sometimes it falls upon a generation to be great. You can be that generation." I don't know his biography so well but know a vague gist of it. But all these quotes coming up about him and from him, overall makes me conclude that he was a good person. That is the general view. I will be better off if I accept that, just like the whole world is doing.

He was going to go, I hope the world has planned early on, even before he was gone, what will the new strategy be in a world without him. 

PUBLISHED: Old blog

Since ventzine.com guys look like they are updating things, I thought I'd share what I wrote for them. They we super nice to publish this.

Ten Rupees Ramble

by Richa Neupane 22 April 2010

It all started with a torn plastic ten-rupee-note. An old man in the microbus gave it to the young khalasi bhai as his fare, but it wasn't accepted. I understood the boy's plight: if he took the note, he would be unable to pass it on to someone else and thus, would lose the ten rupees. I wouldn't take the note either because torn plastic notes are believed to be useless in Nepal.

So this little boy tried to be smart enough and not accept it. What followed was a series of both relevant and stupid conversations among the boy, that old man, another old man who supported the first old man and I. In the end, I got very emotional because the whole argument went anti-women, anti-modernism, anti-fashion and even anti-sexuality.  But I am glad I spoke up for the boy and he got a paper note instead.  The old man’s ego was hurt though and he told me I should not support these blockheads who just try to act smart. He boasted of his experiences and highlighted how much the both of us have yet to see.

I first tried to tell everybody that these notes have been a problem for quite a while now. The bank had decided to stop printing these plastic notes so everything would be solved in time. But the old man got offended! He asked me where I had obtained information he knew nothing of. I told him I read it in an English daily. And somehow he managed to take the whole argument to how youngsters have ruined societal norms and culture and how women have started wearing t-shirts and pants like men. I told him that I did not mean the conductor should not take the note as the bank would not accept it. I explained that there was a solution coming and I was just being optimistic, not trying to prove him wrong. But he asked me to shut up and let him talk about the changing times. He said that a woman’s purpose in the end is to get pregnant and give birth (that broke my heart!). He lamented how Nepal is in useless hands now and he was also very worried that in no time men too will start wearing sari and blouse. The little boy and I exchanged smiles all the while and tried to keep calm. Did I mention I was the only female in the microbus?

This was the first time I ever spoke up. I generally avoided such microbus discussions. There are times when conductors harass us girls, cheat us out of money, and the like, but despite all that, I supported that boy for I knew he was right and unworthy of the old man’s remarks. I felt really bad for the boy. Who knows the roads of Kathmandu better than him?  He must have learned something useful from his passengers, for he definitely knows more than I did at his age (around ten).  He knows that the world is dark and mean, that is for sure. Ironically, his age made me give him more respect than that old man.

I tried my best not to sound rude (like a good daughter) and keep everything thoughtful.  The old man must have first hated that a girl had spoken up, that too supporting a khalasi and of course, a girl travelling alone in the evening in her pants. He must have compared me to women in his own family. I'm thankful I am not his daughter.  There is a large section of people who do not like what is happening around the world. They hate changes: our “progress” is their “pollution”. These are the people who do not let their daughters go to school or play football.  These are the ones who pass their time lamenting the changing norms and only curse the world.

Are these the minds hampering our developing nation?  These people have surely pulled many legs that passionately wanted to run. I had tears in my eyes when I got off the micro bus. Such is the state of my country, so much cruelty, hatred and pessimism. There is a high dividing wall between those who want to move ahead and those who’d rather lie inside their cocoon of conservativeness. The barrier seems very strong. But then I thought of the opposite people, like at the creative writing workshop I was just returning from.  They are there aiming to set our country free from these hurtful realities. They have individual dreams for our country. They have found a common ground to express themselves for change, for improvement.  And there are many other groups of people working together too. There are also the people who embrace changes and encourage such efforts. They are the silver linings in the cloud of backwardness and strict anti-development orthodoxies that overshadow my nation. They are the rays of hope, prepared to fill the void of irrationality and wrong thinking. I am happy to be on the right side of this wall, hopeful about bringing it down, brick by brick.

edited and published by VENT.
http://archive.ventzine.com/blog/richa-neupane/ten-rupees-ramble
new site: http://ventzine.com/

WATCHED: Life of Pi (Reading/Viewing Response)

(Lots of)Spoiler alert!!

April 17, 2013 | Humanities 320

It is Faith We Choose

By Richa Neupane

The feelings of five years ago came swirling back to my mind as I sat in the theatre to watch Life of Pi. It was remarkable how the movie evoked the same feeling of despair, queer numbness and bitter-sweetness that the corresponding novel by Yann Martel did. I had read the book about five years ago. I did not remember all the details from the book, but I can tell that the movie did it justice. It helped me visualize certain scenes even better. Director Ang Lee has done a wonderful job of presenting the fascinating story. In the story, a boy, a lifeboat, and a declining cast of wild animals get lost in the vastness of the Pacific Ocean. With only these characters to work with during the bulk of the story, the movie still does a brilliant job of faithfully portraying them and keeping the audience glued to the seat. It tells an enthralling story of hope, faith, and survival.

Setting

There are three settings in the movie. One is present-day Canada, where the protagonist Pi Patel, lives as a grown man and a prospective novelist visits Pi to know and write about his life story. Second is in the French colonial city of Pondicherry in India where Pi’s family lived. Third is the Pacific Ocean where Pi wanders in a lifeboat, keeping up the intermittent hopes of finding land, with an adult Royal Bengal tiger as companion.

East and West

The movie has a partial and a little indirect theme of east meets west. First of all, west meets east when the American and other European audience go to the theatres to watch this movie about an Indian boy. We also see this in a basic fact that the story is about an Indian boy journeying to the West. In addition, we see this theme at the beginning, when the character in the role of the Canadian novelist meets Pi.  

Pi tells him about his family’s life in Pondicherry. He also mentions Mamaji. The writer had met this character in India and had been directed by him to find out Pi’s intriguing story. When they talk about Mamaji, we get to know that although ‘Mama’ means a relative, an uncle, he was a close friend of Pi’s father and not related by blood to his family. Here, the audience learn a bit about eastern family and friendship system. Likewise, Pi further describes that Mamaji traveled a lot and was often in the company Europeans. The very fact that Pi’s name is short for ‘Piscine’- a word Mamaji chose to depict his love for swimming- gives us a feel of that juxtaposition of many cultures. He had seen the word in a display name of a swimming pool in Paris, in one of his travels.  This again shows that he, as a person from the east, was very familiar with the western countries.

The town of Pondicherry, where Pi grew up, was a French colony. So, we are presented with a very ‘western’ presence in the city’s elite areas. It showcases India’s colonial era.

In Pi’s narration, he and his family are traveling in a Japanese cargo ship to Canada where they hope to live a better life. Pi’s father plans to sell his Indian zoo animals to buyers in North America. In the ship, we get to observe east meeting west. Pi and his mother are vegetarians. But the cook, probably from the West, has no respect for that fact. He simply asks them to consider whatever he will be serving is vegetarian, although he was serving meat. There is a tension between the father and the cook as he tries to negotiate with him so that his beloved wife got what she wanted.  The cook did not understand the Hindu tradition of not eating meat, while the family did not understand that meat was the staple food in a ship sailed by mostly western crew.

Childhood, Religion and Faith

The movie goes back and forth between Pi’s narrative and the actual encounter where he is talking to the narrator about the journey.  Pi starts with his early school days and how his name became modified from Piscine to Pi then. Then we see his first encounter with various religions. His mother is a devout Hindu whereas his father is an atheist. Adult Pi, on the other hand, follows all three religions – Islam, Hinduism and Christianity, but identifies himself as a Catholic. It is a delight to see the young boy’s curiosity and perseverance in trying to know God.

Faith is one of the two major themes of this movie. The audience is made aware of this at the very beginning when Pi says to the author, ‘This story of my journey will make one believe in God.’  In fact, these words add to the audience’s eagerness to find out what will happen in the movie.

We also meet his teenage love-interest Anandi. She took Bharatnatyam classes and Pi met her during one of her sessions. He had gone as a substitute for his friend to play the Tabla, a musical instrument that provides a melody to the dancers.

We get to know his father’s ideals and methods of raising him and his elder brother. Pi is a very kind-hearted and sensible boy.  He believes that there should be kindness in the world. He feels that he can understand everyone; so much so that one day he tries to see if the fearsome tiger named Richard Parker at his father’s zoo could understand him too. He goes very close to the tiger with a chunk of meat and tries to talk to the tiger; suddenly his father hauls him away from the bars from which the tiger was only about 10 feet away. To show him what a carnivore like Richard Parker could have mercilessly done to him, his father makes him watch the tiger kill a goat tied to the bar on the outside and pull it inside the cage for a feast.

This anecdote forms a basis to the rest of the story.

The Tiger

After an unpredicted thunderstorm causes their cargo ship to shipwreck, Pi find himself on a lifeboat with Richard Parker, an adult Royal Bengal tiger, a chimpanzee, a hyena and a wounded zebra. These were some of the zoo animals his father had meant to sell in America.  The group was the only survivors.

However, unable to take the peril of sea-sickness and hunger, the rest of animals die soon and become Richard Parker’s food. Pi helplessly sees them die and is very afraid that he might be the next meal.

Need to survive

When the two are the last ones alive in the boat, the focal point of the story unravels. Pi and the tiger are merely afraid of each other at first. His childhood lesson helps here. He does not trust being too close to the tiger. So, Pi utilizes the items available on board for a makeshift raft that he attaches to the boat with a long rope and hoists himself away from the tiger. He first survives on the bananas that the chimpanzee had used as a raft before to reach the lifeboat. Then he searches the lifeboat when the tiger is hiding or sleeping under a little covered part of the boat. He gets some supplies of bottled water, biscuits and a survival guide. When he runs out of food supply, he forces himself into fishing to eat. He also fishes for the tiger so that it doesn’t get hungry and come after him. However, at one point both learn that if the tiger dives into the ocean to catch fish, it won’t be able climb back without Pi’s help. So, Pi realizes the tiger’s need of co-existence.  

When he feels the need for a long-term survival plan, he goes to the boat and establishes a boundary between the tiger and him. By claiming authority he learns to ‘train’ the tiger if not ‘tame’ it.

This goes on for months and they encounter various aspects of the Pacific- thunderstorms, flying fishes, whales, etc. to name a few.  Pi confides that he could not have gone so far without the tiger. Catering to the tiger’s needs helped him focus on doing his duty rather than losing hope.

During the final days of the wandering, when they are the frailest and have lost all hope, the duo land into a peculiar island full of edible wild weed, trees and herds of meerkats. They linger there for a bit, but Pi finds a human tooth inside a little leaf bud. He takes it as a signal from God to go on and not get swallowed by the promises of the lonely island. So he amasses as much food as possible for himself and the tiger and moves on.

Back to the real-land

On the 227th day they finally reach the Mexican coast. Richard Parker simply treads away, not looking back, without any dramatic goodbye gesture. Pi narrates that this ‘broke his heart’. He had been so used to having the tiger by his side as his aide in survival that he was sad to see him go.

Life After and Interpretation

As he recovers, Pi is interviewed by the ship company officials to find the cause of the shipwreck. He tells them the same story and that God guided him. They do not believe him. When he offers a short alternative story that involved humans killing each other in the lifeboat for survival, the officials opt to believe the first account with Richard Parker in it, the one with God.

Pi later asks the novelist which story he would believe and write about. The writer chooses the one with the island and realizes that he had just picked to believe God.

All in all, this is how the creative genius of the Yann Martel unfolds in front of the audience. Even the audience is caught in between choosing a more practical story. The one with humans is so gory and inhumane that people would never easily accept it. Whereas the one with Richard Parker and the unreal island is a survival account full of hope, but one would not want to accept it either if they do not believe in God.

Therefore, Life of Pi has a leaves us questioning our beliefs. It also strengthens one’s belief and it does so in an incredible fashion. The movie left me in a state of awe and  transcendence; I could feel the same sentiment among the rest of the viewers in the theatre.

© Written for Dr. Czynski's Humanities class

PUBLISHED: High School Yearbook Write-up

I found this article I wrote for my school's annual magazine. It's such a high school me!...

I miss you guys so much. The school is big and everything, but nobody is nice. Only a few girls talk to me and the teachers look as if they are about to insult me. I want to come back!

As I hugged my friends on the last official day of my second school, I could not help recall my first few months there. I used to write letters like this to friends in my previous school. I used to cry as soon as I returned home after school. I sat for hours wondering if the kind-hearted principal of my old school (for ten years) would take me back. Since my parents had spent enough for the new admission, I did not want them to buy the costly winter uniform, thinking, “I would go back anyways!” Even my fourteen-year-old sister vividly remembers how much I sulked then. So three years later, when I bade teary-eyed farewell to friends, the irony made me smile; I did not wish to leave.  The school I dreaded before changed the whole picture as it fostered me with values, challenges and ambition.

The transition had been like never before. It was an all-girl, highly reputed institution with more rules and more teachers. The students seemed so cold and discomforting. They looked at me as if I was an exotic new animal at the zoo. They asked me questions about my earlier grades and school. I used to be very loud and confident, but there, I was a lamb. When teachers enquired me I gave very meek replies. I just could not cope with all the novelty, and sorely missed my earlier school.

Still, I had to try as I did not find myself going back or forward.  My parents had chosen a better school for my sake. If I wanted to make things right, I could do so by making the most of the “opportunity” they had given to me.  So I continued being a good regular student. I did my assignments on time. I studied hard for tests.  Unlike others, I was very responsive in class and approached especially my class teacher if I faced problems.

First term ended and my scores showed outstanding numbers! That’s when I got a little push to loosen up, be a little less nervous. Also, people talked about me. “Oh, she’s the one who topped in English!” And a few even asked me to tutor them! Teachers too appreciated my attempts. So, my lost self-confidence was retrieved back and I embarked on a journey that later proved to be full of friends-for-life, unforgettable moments, amazing teachers and a hoard of activities.

Instead of classmates, I ended up with three of my teachers in the elephant ride during an educational trip in sophomore year and thoroughly enjoyed it. I was on the first row of our green-house march past during the annual sports day the same year. Similarly, in my first year there, despite my (disappointingly) mediocre show in the track and field events, singing in the school choir for the school’s golden jubilee celebration programs was a feat.

My pronunciation of “Sh” as just “S” improved while reading Shakespeare’s stories and I gradually stopped feeling embarrassed my ‘new student’ accent. In class, I got the title “Question mark” from peers for driving the teachers crazy with my questions.

All in all, the experience was exhilarating and if I had quit at the beginning itself, I would not have become what I am today.   The phase of adaptation that I went through gave me insight to tackle many more changes to come and I have learnt that hardships make us stronger.  I feel that I will never have such problems regarding changes as I know that things will pass.  I will rather extract the most out of the difficulties I face and become a stronger person.  My comprehension of the fact that new developments in life can be awarding has left me yelling, “bring it on”!

© 2011

WATCHED: Wild

I watched the movie ‘Into the Wild’ yesterday. The movie is so poetic that it made me want to write. It brought back the ‘wild’ in me. My wild is the stream of thoughts I used to get from the black sky while sitting atop the winding staircase that leads up to the roof. It is familiar to the sound of calm I heard while canoeing at Lake Itasca.  It is even the handful of short poems I wrote, about crushes and heartbreaks.  It struck me that I had abandoned these abnormalities, for the wish to be real. To embrace life as it is and to act rather than muse or write. The movie reunited me with that emotionally artistic  trait and it was a joyous discovery.  I have heard a lot from friends about this movie. The fact that it is a true story enthralls everybody. I have seen people giving themselves the last name “Supertramp” on Facebook. It is understandable to wish to be like Alexander Supertramp. But to what extent? Here are my takeaways from the movie.

The story is of a writer who undertakes a journey to be free from society and see if he can live on his own. There are various factors leading him to this decision. Let us look at his ambition to travel and then to write about it. This ambition contrasted with my reason to stop turning every experience I had to ink. I had been suppressing the writer in me. I thought making the people and stories around me my profession was a bit unfair to them.  I thought that it is selfish to dig for experiences just so that I can write about it. I started to refrain and slowly lost the habit of delving into the joyous musings that came to me after being really inspired and appreciative of the beauty of things.  But now I see my writing goals a bit differently.  Yes, I want to be a writer. I need to call myself a writer first. So here I am finally fearlessly declaring that I am a writer. Not a hobby. Not a side job. Not even ‘I want to be a New York Times contributing op-ed writer after I am in a great position with a non-profit and can make opinions, observations, and predictions.’ It is a part of me and I need to, and thus, embrace it.

Both the first time I watched it and yesterday, I googled about the story. Somewhere on the internet, a commenter says that Chris McCandless alias Supertramp need not have died because he had been living quite close to an alternate route to cross the flooded river. I also learned from Google results that people are considering his a case of Schizophrenia. To consider someone who is experimenting life schizophrenic sounded sad. However it is plausible to tend to explore his state of mind; McCandless was indeed tackling his family depression issues. We also learn about his inquisitive childhood attribute.  I don’t want to nitpick on his mental state because he did not follow a path of self-depreciation.  He was brave enough to go searching for the brighter side of life that would solve his problems. Everybody needs some soul-searching now and then and McCandless needed one. He had just graduated from college and wanted to follow his own path to tackle life, a path far from the mundane. It is just like taking time off between changing careers. Or rebuilding self after a painful relationship.

McCandless  meets Wayne in South Dakota and when they talk about life and society, Wayne warns that he should not be thinking so deeply about people, their rules, and the society. I saw some truth in that but again, there are also that small percentage of people in the world who fall into McCandless’ category.  It is indeed a matter of choice. Which one would you ignore? The societal make up of family, profession, technology, and possession, or the inner self-aching to question the society and rebel and renounce the normal going-ons?

One major question I asked myself was if I’d be able to reconsider my life goals and be like him. No. I owe that to the people I love.  But I am a sucker for such experiences that send a stream of transcendent and equally simple energy my way. I need to at least try it out and I have been contemplating the best way to do so without being a heart-breaker like Alexander.  It did not end perfectly for him. He finally missed the comfort of society and right when he was planning his return, things turned around. He did take a risky path but succeeded in getting what he wanted. So, it might be risky, but look at each new person and place he saw, loved or hated, and carried on, one life lesson richer!

The glory of a kid-dom

I read of some really funny beliefs people had as a child, here

http://www.buzzfeed.com/sirajdatoo/ridiculous-things-people-used-to-believe-9o1f

So I have been trying to recall what I believed to be true or false. Here are a few I can think of:

While riding on a public bus, I worried about the people or bike riders the bus passed, thinking they might have been run over by the bus.

I thought Dandelion seeds were flying insects.

I had a neighbor who used to tease me about cutting my ears off. I was scared of him.

Then there are weird or fun things I enjoyed...

Eating left over toothpaste from a used thrown toothpaste tube on the street (and getting caught in action by mom)

Eating “Chari Amilo” growing behind the house

In all its sourness

Holding these leaves between your fingers and blowing at it so that it rotates

Playing dandi biyo in the alley 

Making fortresses in the tori baari (mustard field)

Catching dragonflies at school and comparing who caught the best one 

Once we jumped from the top of our one-storied house onto the drying mustard stack.  It was my brother’s idea.  This was me on my turn: 

Doing this:

carolinecalcote.com

Making doll houses from waste cloth strips and wai wai cartons

Couch hurdle race – jumping  from one furniture to another in the living room

During lunch time, mixing everybody’s masala and ghee packet from Wai wai or rum pum to make achar

 

Playing this game: 

Q or X would be the most fun!

Watching Meena Cartoon religiously

Making these:

http://www.examiner.com

I would love to hear your stories!

Personal mythbusting

It has been two years since I left Nepal for USA. I am not sure whether my age or my change of lifestyle has contributed to making me feel more grown-up than before. But being able to observe my country from far (kinda like Rose watches the Earth for the first time in Doctor Who ) and insurmountable internet access has brought light upon so many things for me. In fact, let me present to you the myths in my head (MMH):

1. There is no one (very very few people) in Nepal to help make it a better place.

Although this notion ignited in me the wish to contribute to Nepal's development, it is not true. Ever since I  started paying attention to non-profit organizations now that I was an International Studies major, I have become amazed at the national and international involvement there. Every other person is working with an NGO. There are many who have gone back after studying abroad and started up welfare/development projects.  For instance one of my earliest finds was a hospital built in Far-Western Nepal in the early 90s by foreign nationals.My ignorance could be  due the fact that I have been to only a few places out of Kathmandu. But even within Kathmandu, there are so many organizations. I know I should be aware of the Nepal's degree of dependency in international aid and it is one of my learning goals.

Thus, Nepal is cared for and Nepali people are making the best of it. I have to dig deeper into why the country is still lagging behind.

 2.  Politicians, Civil Society Workers are not well educated

They are! At least most of them. One of my other goals is to lead Nepal eventually. But I used to think there is no good going on in the bureaucracy and governance and I will bring the needed change. But there is. There are people like Kul Chandra Gautam who studied at Princeton and worked for UNICEF! Look how amazingly the Dixit's have contributed to the education and other social systems. I was a fool to underestimate the intellect of our leadership. Business Admininstration, Economics and STEM Graduates are in high demand in America. Why? Because they have received rigorous professional training as analysts, etc.  Now think of how popular these very majors are in Nepal. And I am sure there are hundreds of Economists out there in civil service. So, what is the problem? Is it that we rely too much on foreign experts for guidance?

3. Nepali people have less entrepreneurship skills.

What was I thinking? How could I have crossed out those fruitsellers' carts or  nanglo pasal ko didi (lady with the shop in a basket?) Or my friend's dad who used to get us gifts after his business trips to Hong Kong.

4. Students are not taught value education at school.

Well I know many schools have these classes and I have been a student in a school which was the best in this category. However, now that I am in America and am struggling through life as an independent student, I think of those mini-biographies and stories we read in our very own Hamro Nepali Kitab. Balkrishna Sama and Muna Madan taught us to keep going even when the going gets tough.  Dukhama na-atinu, sukha ma namatinu : I am trying to make this my mantra. We read about the life of BP Koirala and Kalidas. We read about Pasang Lamhu Sherpa and read that poem of innocence and instruction, "natipnu hera kopila, nachyatnu paapa lagdacha".

So, these are my discoveries and there are many more to come. I promise to keep researching and posting about them.


Jai Nepal (Yes, Call Kantipur style. That was a great program!)