Exhibition "Separating Myth from Reality"

“Separating Myth from Reality—The status of Woman” is the title of exhibition that I was looking forward for the long time. The exhibition that I had worked hard to put together. The exhibition which is metaphor for the world that still has traditional trajectories and prejudices that have bound women and restrict them from realizing their innate potential.

More than 94 artist and photographers had contributed in the show at 6 different venues in Kathmandu and Patan. It was very pleasant and proud to see the arts and artifacts done by emerging Nepali artist from Lalit Kala Campus and Kathmandu University. All the student participants were younger to me and gave me a serious complexity with their talent.

TLK had provided 10 photos for exhibition, from his book “Fallen Angels-The Sex Workers of South Asia”. Plus 18 copies of the same book. The book he is very proud of, that showcases the 10 years tenure of 10 Photographers along with 8 writers and over 20 stories of sex workers of South Asia.

Very much excited to be the part of the show. Had a very busy and exhausting morning as Sangeeta Thapa has summoned us to be at Art Council at 1 PM, even though the inauguration event was scheduled for 3, to help her putting up photos and captions.

Until 1:15 I was having upsetting chat conversation over googlemail.

Quarter past one. Driver was missing. He was off to airport to drop Mrs. VCD, and we were all late for the show. Quickly finished up my instant noodles and ran to taxi stand. Thank god! Taxi driver knew where the art council is, as I hardly remembered where the big building stood.

Here we are Mr. Nepal Art Council!!

Repeatedly asking, “Where is Mrs. Thapa”, at every storey of Nepal art council, till I reached atop. Where the venue was set for the opening of the show. Seeing me, arrived, she jumped towards me explaining why our captions were not set along side the photos yet. She quickly ran downstairs to know the whereabouts of the captions. All the photos were nicely put. Arranged the way we wanted. I quickly ran through all the main photographers of the show in the venue. And my eyes were caught by some of the fashion photography of Nepali Photographer Kashish Das Shrestha, based out of New York. Who I noticed later during the ceremony with his camera. A gentleman indeed!
His imagery were unique amidst over all mourning photos of women. For it showed more of a vamped women walking Fashion Ramp. One of his photos that I really liked was “sharply focused hands clapping at blurred models walking on the left.” I wish I had camera when I was there so that I could share it here.

There was nothing much to do to help at council. Everything was set fine. So, Priti and I decided to navigate through the photos and on-going preparation downstairs. The first thing anybody noticed was rice sprouting out of river sand (see the pic, cant define the structure hehe), making Wel-Come notation. Followed by Kishor Kayastha’s work. Pretty intrinsic and set up collage photos. His mud plastered model, portrayed women in various dispositions of life, and the black canvas frame just complimented the moods.

Modern arts by Indian and Pakistani artist ornate the first floor. They natured women’s vulnerability, gender discrimination, oppression, prejudice and also happiness for change in some. Theme of most of them just flew above my head and could barely figure out if they were hung alright or upside down.
Surfing through Nepali artist’ works, I thought of my BFA friend CMS. I wish he too had contributed his work here. I know one of his paintings on motherhood would just fit well in the flow of the show.

Ceramic artifacts by Netherlands artist broke the monotony of Photography and modern art. Pink phallus motifs, black bosom and colourful tiny sperms hung across wall were absolutely creative. Wondered, what was she thinking when she designed that? What could be the message behind them? Mystery!!

Mrs. Thapa was finally back, with tags for our imagery. They had no information about the photos except for the image ID. She apologized the print failure putting all the blame upon our file that didn’t open up on her computer. That was not done! She could have notified the accident prior to show. We could have sent her the other file or seek out alternative. I was pissed off at her NO-CARE attitude.

Finally the show started at quarter past three, upon arrival of Ex-PM Surya B. Thapa. All the dignitaries were respectively seated and all of them addressed the show as their turn came up. Followed, the song by a 20 year old Gandarva lady and Rashmila Shakya, the Ex-|Royal-Kumari (the living goddess of Nepal). She was divine at the tender age of 3 through 12th year, and now dumped into mortal world. She is an IT designer at one of the leading company in Nepal. She was pretty and her cheerful face glowed as she shared her memories of being Kumari. I liked her simple English in Newari tonality. Reminded me of a dear friend, CMS, who I had noticed speaking Japanese similarly over phone. This was the second time I missed CMS during the show. And somehow I had already managed, to making him feel sorry for missing this wonderful International SHOW over and over again.

This was the first ever international photography show happening in Nepal. To my disappointment, the show was slightly messy and lack of co-ordination was noticeable.
I have planned to visit all the six venues through 6th of November. With that also looking fwd for another grand show in 2011.

Oye! It's Friday

Its Friday, the weekend. And my Yahoo Messenger’s status is set to TGIF, Thank God Its Friday! And luckily Friday happens to be my favorable according to my astrology chart as well.

Here is one of the evidence on how lucky is Friday for me.

As usual I was chating with my friend Nikki Chaudhary between my work at office. My boss should never realize that I am misusing office's internet service on chat and not to forget FACEBOOK surfing. She is my only e-pal who is lady and I met her on HI5. She added me to her friend list, because we shared same name and both of us’ are named NIKKI, which is just 'Nikki', and not a short form to Nikita, Nicole, or Nicholas so and so fourth.

Nikki and I talk about everything under sun. From pulling leg to giving serious advices on life philosophy. From ex boy friend to existing one. From hair style to toe’s nail polish. We both are blessed with exceptional ability of gossiping.

Today, we were talking about Tharus, the clan she belongs to. She was correcting and educating me about Tharus, and their sharp distinction from Madhesi and Thakuris of Terai.
Man! Madhesi and Tharus are one of the hot political turmoil in Nepal, these days. They are tussling with one another for their individual existence.

I mentioned her that she was the second Tharu friend of mine, where as first is Anjana Jha. There, she explained me that Jha doesn’t belong to Tharu clan. She paused a while and said, “Did u say Anjana Jha? Is she one of the four sister-siblings of Mrs. Archana?” Astonished me hit back, “YES, DEAR.” She exclaimed, “oh my good”, and continued describing me Anjana’s family tree. I am equally perplexed by then with my mouth wide-open. Wonder, what if my office was also favourite housing for flies and mosquitoes.

She gave me link to Mrs. Archana’s family photo. Archana didi has such close resemblance to Anjana, that, I hollered, “Yes Nikku we are talking about the same Anjana”. TOO BAD! That she wouldn’t hear my ecstatic screaming, for we were text chating without web cam.

Anjana, Suku and myself, were three close musketiers of 1999 through 2001 batch of I.Sc. at Tri Chandra College. And I had almost lost in touch with Anjana until today, when I finally called her up, after such nostalgic conversation about her with Nikki pal. Where as I am off and on on phone with Suku Gurung, now famous as Mrs. Suku Gurung Gautam and mommy to Priyanka and babu. Damn! I don't even know what her son's name is.

Oh I almost forgot to mention, Archana didi is wife of very dear friend of Krishna Chaudhary, who I didn’t catch name of. And Krishna Chaudhary is hubby dear of Nikki Chaudhary. And That is how, Archana didi is vauju of Nikki Chaudhary.

Today, if I really believed the world is round, then, I would say this story of rendezvous with Anjana via Nikki Chaudhary is one of the evident.

But, this is not the first time that Nikki Chaudhary and I had collided astonishing one another with common friends. It started one and a half year ago with Sujan Thapa.

Sujan Thapa is my buddy, who went to an Engineering college with Nikki Chaudhary when she was doing her BIT at Nepal Engineering College..
Saroj Regmi, who I knew through Sujan, has been Nikki Chaudhary’s classmate during her time in Nepal Engineering College.
Dipesh Siwakoti, another e-pal, was senior to Nikki Chaudhary at Nepal Engineering College..
Persis Prasai, my childhood friend, is Nikki Chaudhary’s idol, because she was topper of Nepal Engineering College, who she calls Persis didi.

And now Anjana Jha. Wow! I am loving it. Enormously!!

Readers may not find this blog so enticing but it was overwhelming encounter for me.

HaPp¥ FrIdA¥!!

Talks

Me: What's the problem baby?
You: Think about you & love everyday.

Me: How much longer will it take to cure?
You: Just can’t cure and am not able to ignore.

Me: Learn to be lonely and learn to find path in darkness..
You: Be my companion and drench in ecstasy of wilderness..

Me: Never dreamt that out of world, your arms are here to hold me.
You: I stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend life with me.

Me: Wicked imagination and something new going on with you?
You: Dreaming is no more colourless, vision all coming are true!

Me: It is drawing me outta mind, what if it is just some despondency.
You: You’ve gotta have faith in me, impart me an empathy.

Me: Now that your silence chills me to the bone.
You: You know me and my love will never let you be alone.

Me: I have got a feeling incomplete in my heart,
You: And you make me feel complete, coz you are a piece of my heart

Me: You are giving me something to hold on to my newest infatuation!
You: Love I wanna feel your love, there is no end to devotion!

Bratabandhan (Hindu Ritual, Newari Style)

I usually get up at 7:30 or later than that, but today just to attend a Bratabandhan, more as an Anthropologist rather than guest, forcefully got up at 6. I know that is almost late for some of my early worm friends. Sait was at 7:30, and to avoid traffic at Koteshwor and reaching Bhaktapur on time, we had to depart by at 6:30.

Nepali time as it says, no one was ready when we reached Mahakali Temple in Bhaktapur, few kilometers from main Durbar Square in Bhaktapur. Priest had just arrived, and his assistant was busy drawing mandaps, rekhis, and asana, all ritual terms, and unfortunately, I don’t even know how to explain those terms in English.

I was freezing. Temperature was lower in Bhaktapur than Kathmandu. Thomas was fluttering his frozen hands, for he rode his bike all the way there. Thank god I was picked up on rotten green Toyota.

Finally at eight, ritual started. Thank god. All there boys were bathed and then lined up for shaving head. And the barber would not stop bargaining for higher dakchina between his tasks. Ritual continued… reciting mantras, showering flower and lava, putting tika, dhup batti. Time came for boys to get rid of their clothes and put on pitambar langots. I think it was symbolic of the stage when they either choose to spend Grihasta life (household) or banastha life (life in jungle and studying in ashrams). I already mentioned that Bhaktapur was chilling and also almost-nude-boys were shivering. I couldn’t help noticing their quivering dingdong veiled by translucent pitambar (Yellow garments usually used for offering to Lord Vishnu).
Oh yes! I noticed one difference between Newari bratabandhan and rest of other Hindus was, boy’s (initiate’s) phupu—paternal aunts, collect hair on brass plates when shaving initiate’s head, whereas in ours its job of sisters.

As the ritual was going on, as Thomas was busy photographing and as I was already bored and alienated for all the mantras—verses reverberating around was in Newari. Though I have grown up with few Newari friends and with their unsuccessful tries of teaching language to me, all I can understand is chu jula which means WHATS UP?? (I think) So, I thought of intervening priest, mother, boys, father and rest of the relatives with my so-called Anthropological questions. Trust me! They were quite patient and boggled me with zealous explanations in their broken Nepali mixed Newari tones. Newari was indeed MIND BLOWING for me because I couldn’t understand a word. But I managed to collect what I needed to.

One led to another, we had to go to nearby river to flow the boys’ hair, that was collected on a plate earlier. And also, readers please excuse my atrocious English. Dry season casted all over Nepal, although we should have been blessed with winter rain by now. There was no river, just the left over and path of it. So, Phupus managed to bury hair in river soil or more appropriately river sand.

Then we had a procession through the gallis of Bhaktapur’s tol or village. I enjoyed the site of tilted mud houses supported by one another, always wondered what happens if (heaven forbid) earthquake strikes. Walking on brick-paved alleys, which is uncommon in Kathmandu. Wooden Aankhi Jhyal (windows in form of net). House-well built in B.S. 2022. Friendship between vendors selling Dhaka-patasi and modern style tops side by side. Bhaktapur women washing clothes on outside porch. Sophisticated and traditional wooden mask. And Yes! The trespassers looking at me and murmuring to one another, for I was asked to carry coco cola bottle that had home-made wine instead, while other participants of procession were carrying fruits, flowers, sweets and other regular puja stuffs on tray. And there shouts a roadside romeo “Hey! Is that petrol or wine that you are carrying?” What did I do at such remarks?, Ignored and kept walking.
Then another set of puja and worship at Bhadrakali temple, which was comparatively smaller to the temple we have in Kathmandu and looked like any other byroad deity housed. Perplexing and only style of Bhaktapur, was, first, putting tika of blood from sacrificial’s head-neck portion. And the second, priest poked lower belly of the sacrificed goat and pulled its small intestine, blew it like balloon, tied knot on either end and offered it as garland to Bhadrakali. Whoops!! That is something not in practiced in Kathmandu.

We headed back to the place where bratabandhan took place i.e Mahakali temple, lit one lakh oil wicks in the name of Mahakali Devi. And then all the head-women of family started exchanging sagun complied of fried boiled-egg, fish, and bara. Luckily, I got sagun as well, and was kind of blessing to me to see food that I could actually eat, for I was starving to death, and it was already 2 PM. Phew! I was awake since 6, nothing eaten, except for 2 cups of tea and one jeri-swari.
As I took a bite of fish, Shova di screamed at me with joy “your first child will be a baby boy”. I was totally startled. How on earth she knew that?, I am not even married. She said, “Your first bite of fish was its head, so that’s the sign for your first baby will be boy.” INTERESTING, said I.

With all Luck by chance, we didn’t not hit any kind of traffic on the way back to office. Worked for 2 hours and was happy that it was weekend and I didn't have to worry about being at office sharp on time the following day. Oh yes of course, I took center-stage and narrated stories on Bratabandhan to my mom, sister, and two brothers.

It was indeed, my first date with Hindu Ritual in Newari Style.