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