tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78785347754260598312024-03-15T18:09:43.723-07:00Sammy DiariesA personal blog sharing part of my life that I can only express in words. Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-67615705392343767312016-01-07T09:18:00.001-08:002016-01-14T11:15:36.602-08:00Diving from the 'Top of the World!' <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7878534775426059831" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="16" id="61a7h3hkt01z" src="data:image/gif;base64,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" style="cursor: move;" width="16" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Last November, I did the Everest
Skydive along with a team of 9 professional divers led by ace skydiver Tom Noonan. This extreme adventure that
started in the year 2008, has now been enlisted in the Forbes’ list (placing 3<sup>rd</sup>)
of 11 Most amazing places to skydive around the world and CNN’s 50 ways to be a
daredevil (placing 8<sup>th</sup>).</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7878534775426059831" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="16" id="61a7h3hkt01z" src="data:image/gif;base64,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" style="cursor: move;" width="16" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ttyLwN03AGMvDfCvCwLmkwhiwLPXfsBxv3Y5zQA7JfxXToLdgmqI7SmZOgSBzfCpa43CD_cKWuSlivleVSt6zMwOM85kJM8MuLNo1ab21jdcC3DXb3gBsnfoxUz5_JnEy8EDZISgS_c/s1600/day+6+j.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ttyLwN03AGMvDfCvCwLmkwhiwLPXfsBxv3Y5zQA7JfxXToLdgmqI7SmZOgSBzfCpa43CD_cKWuSlivleVSt6zMwOM85kJM8MuLNo1ab21jdcC3DXb3gBsnfoxUz5_JnEy8EDZISgS_c/s640/day+6+j.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Everest Skydive 2015 ; Skydive Instructor Dr. Ryan Jackson, Tandem Diver Samriddhi Rai,</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">all pictures by Paul-Henry de Baere </span></td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, how did I get there? <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I do a lot of things,
travelling is one. Last August as I ushered in my 28<sup>th</sup> birthday in a
luxury Chitwan Resort (Barahi Jungle Resort), I was stumped by what I saw.
Spread over 12 hectares of lush savannahs, this mind-bogglingly beautiful resort
but had four guests, and that’s including me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The resort’s F&B Manager
Tej, explained to me how the April earthquake painfully cut down the number of
tourists coming to Nepal. And that is when the idea of creating video blogs
cooked up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“If I could show, through a
series of videos how Nepal is doing just fine, in fact, how it is awesome like
it always has been. Wouldn’t people want to come here again?” His face lit up,
and so did mine. And that is how ‘Sammy Adventures’ was born. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I decided that the first of
its series would focus on the country’s most exciting adventure sports. That is
when the thought of skydive came across. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Knockin on luck's door</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So, one random afternoon, I
simply walked into the office of Explore Himalaya. Met the Director, Suman
Pandey whom I had only just met once before, and confidently briefed him about
my project. He generously offered me an opportunity at the Pokhara Skydive event
happening in mid-November. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Oh how kind of him,” I
thought. But he changed his mind a week later and called me to ask if I wanted
to join the team of Everest Skydive instead. “What did I hear again?” “Everest
Skydive Expedition,” he said. “Like, hells yeah!” went my mind but I replied
with a nonchalant “why not?” to not to come off too excited. But oh boy, was I
excited! I packed my bags and left with the team the next day. Yes, it all
happened that fast! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b>And the Miss Congeniality award goes to... </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The initial plan was that I
take a flight to Lukla from Kathmandu with the skydiving team. That is when I
would be introduced to all of its 11 members. But having lived in Kathmandu
long enough will make you a lot of friends, and some of them will be Helicopter
Pilots. And so, I hitched a ride with my pilot friend all the way to Lukla. And
although this exciting detour made for some cool Instagram posts only I know
how bored to death I was shortly after, waiting desperately for the rest of my
team members to arrive. Thanks to the erratic Himalayan weather, the team who was
supposed land by nine in the morning, did so only around three in the
afternoon.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Co-piloting with Captain Sobit</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Meetin the ‘Dream Team’</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The Everest Skydiving Team
consisted of seven crewmembers, four clients and one guest tandem diver—me. The
crewmembers were handpicked from around the globe who are among the best divers
and leaders in their field of expertise, but I wouldn’t know about all of this
until the end of the expedition. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The first time I met them, I
was just a regular ‘Sam’ to them, and they were all irregularly-sized, gigantic
‘westerners’ to me. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">#nepalbackontopoftheworld was the theme of the Everest Skydive Expedition 2015</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The only name I worked hard to remember was of Ryan’s. Ryan
Jackson would be my Skydive Instructor in the expedition, and I knew I had to
get into his good books if I wanted to come out alive of this experience;
hence, the extra effort ;) </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgssFicGZUEo7dYm_6uAeKYWU3PkJpNGiErQyiZptii3HJ4EVUVjfMp2C6L1_4f8TUy9nbvptS-t_V2yCd4J2n5SRwWcdIDcmWopf_S2hMl_GabnimrS06Za2CMqtVsP8qug3pk_EgD8QM/s1600/ryan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgssFicGZUEo7dYm_6uAeKYWU3PkJpNGiErQyiZptii3HJ4EVUVjfMp2C6L1_4f8TUy9nbvptS-t_V2yCd4J2n5SRwWcdIDcmWopf_S2hMl_GabnimrS06Za2CMqtVsP8qug3pk_EgD8QM/s640/ryan.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">That's Dr. Ryan :)</span></td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Getting to know them <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">And by them I mean my brand
new friends, the Himalayas, and all about skydiving. As days passed and
we walked closer to our destination, the beauty of Khumbu region kept
unfolding, so did the awesomeness of the lives of my new friends. Earnesto
Ganzia was a World Record Holder, Derek Thomas was considered a legend in the
sky diving world, Paul Henry played stunt double to Hollywood actor Jason
Statham and my instructor Ryan was a doctor and a pilot. “Being a doctor, a
pilot and a skydiver, how do you manage that?” I asked him with amusement.
“Well, I sacrifice a few things like watching the television, to balance my
time,” he laughed. If that isn’t a cool life to live, I don’t know what is.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7GOk8pW5bRV0KnQv8vq-sqYfnb729I929tkY5j04g42018txPWeYQ7mI_c_0JU9j28iHKwe91wdvcQ7NDF0x3hD7JbpD7U4Xcz70DXbLhAxm0bxEF3HsqOLVygcV304cFNO-k0xm8sw4/s1600/7U3B8688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7GOk8pW5bRV0KnQv8vq-sqYfnb729I929tkY5j04g42018txPWeYQ7mI_c_0JU9j28iHKwe91wdvcQ7NDF0x3hD7JbpD7U4Xcz70DXbLhAxm0bxEF3HsqOLVygcV304cFNO-k0xm8sw4/s640/7U3B8688.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">From left: Michael McCann, me, Earnesto Ganzia (Guinees World Record Holder) </span></td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Show time!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">By the second day in Namche,
as we hung out the old school way in a high altitude pub, I pretty much had it
figured that I was among a group of people who were crazy funny. “Just watch
them when they get to work, they’re crazy professionals too,” a member had
hinted, and that is exactly what happened. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As soon as we reached
Syangboche, I could read their energy turning solemn and focused. Phinjo Lodge
that looked like a regular lodge just moments ago was transformed into a work
station so fast, I suddenly felt like I was inside the sets of an old sci-fi
movie. With oxygen masks dangling, skydiving gears neatly stacked and huge
white men walking around talking technical gab—I definitely felt a little out
of place. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Then a puja was officiated by
a local monk to bless the Everest Skydiving Expedition, the cultural
familiarity of which brought me right back into my element.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If all went as planned, the dives were to
begin the following day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8hY4u0dZsBv594pWAmcaGRc-ydXPU32GKY2bxu1L73CyKZfVztzF_zEV0QfYRwUzX_RveHEa41tpNy-eb58AzScNghNuX-bS8ocaABmImIJwYHTruAoZ_X-g867ynKTAZFNRN55NvFFg/s1600/7U3B8761+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8hY4u0dZsBv594pWAmcaGRc-ydXPU32GKY2bxu1L73CyKZfVztzF_zEV0QfYRwUzX_RveHEa41tpNy-eb58AzScNghNuX-bS8ocaABmImIJwYHTruAoZ_X-g867ynKTAZFNRN55NvFFg/s640/7U3B8761+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">A beautiful Nepali tradition to have all high altitude expeditions blessed by a Buddhist Mon</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">k. </span></td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Prepping up <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A few test dives were done on
the first day, which due to a cloudy weather was quickly shut down. The second
day, as the clear blue skies beckoned action, I was instructed to gear up for
the biggest adventure of my life—my first ever skydive! My heart raced and I
moved about in a jumpy pace fueled with childish excitement as I waited for my
turn. The locals knew that I was the only Nepali in the team and so started gathering
around tossing in their myriad questions. The most common query being, “ Are
you not scared?” And the answer everyone got was a clear “no.” Yes, I was
thrilled, yes I was excited, but scared—not really. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And then, my turn finally
came. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczmRoaAOxNyfr0-3I78tfslou_ItJ6ecR9OOhrYbCRUZQgHgef_n1gpIj4zjTSB6zAaPnX_BQ8TLAgl_trLfhF4I3Lytxny6DWsDI2PSprvDiWgQAsBNIxTdPtFQc1dHHWgUbOBjlm_Q/s1600/IMG_0627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczmRoaAOxNyfr0-3I78tfslou_ItJ6ecR9OOhrYbCRUZQgHgef_n1gpIj4zjTSB6zAaPnX_BQ8TLAgl_trLfhF4I3Lytxny6DWsDI2PSprvDiWgQAsBNIxTdPtFQc1dHHWgUbOBjlm_Q/s640/IMG_0627.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><span style="text-align: left;">Ted Atkins of Topout, the oxygen provider for world’s many high altitude expeditions turned on my oxygen cylin</span><span style="text-align: left;">der, and gave me a ‘good to go’ thumbs up.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ryan and I slid inside the chopper and our videographer/photographer Paul Henry
De Baere followed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I waved goodbye to all those in attendance as our chopper
scaled height. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Diving into a dream <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">As our helicopter flew higher
and closer to the Himalayas, I couldn’t believe the sight I was seeing. That is
what heaven must look like, I kept saying to myself; and I am pretty sure seeing
so closely the snow-capped mountains spread over the Himalayan vastness in all
its glory, you would think the same.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ttEbBldmpFNSYjC8nva5Z2kWHKROzzL3dWSoXW4KPzx95AZprA4CBhkqCiPMyhvWcIEKimdsM8gdEH_Au76Ee37Aqmo5YbhRCsNUee_oq9Oka21BZ3Yxa_txHS1g_LFbHyA5gQz0wn0/s1600/IMG_0675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ttEbBldmpFNSYjC8nva5Z2kWHKROzzL3dWSoXW4KPzx95AZprA4CBhkqCiPMyhvWcIEKimdsM8gdEH_Au76Ee37Aqmo5YbhRCsNUee_oq9Oka21BZ3Yxa_txHS1g_LFbHyA5gQz0wn0/s640/IMG_0675.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It must’ve taken about 10- 15 minutes of flight to reach the point of about 20,000 ft, from where we were to
jump. My instructor slowly moved towards the edge of the heli, and within
moments, together with Paul Henry, we were out of the vessel. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was given specific
instructions to cross my arms and arch my back, during the first few seconds of
the free fall, and so I did. Those first few seconds were also the only
rendezvous I had with the emotion of fear during the whole experience. Within
about 15-16 seconds of all that enthralling free fall, our chute went up. Ryan’s
thorough narration of the mountains around (Everest, Thamaserku, Amadablam,
Kongde to name a few) made for the perfect background score to my delightful
flight down to the drop zone. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt209czQGWR3pyFdotiaPGoL-l2LES3pYZAeWjaySwGUS_S4OdAnVltI9JLZeAf-Fe6vE79Yj2VPPeDCm_VwWeYZWWF9nuKKadI0yrk-dha5-1mvMOSfLwm7q6eqqlVrIJctb3yLAb3k8/s1600/day+6+k.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt209czQGWR3pyFdotiaPGoL-l2LES3pYZAeWjaySwGUS_S4OdAnVltI9JLZeAf-Fe6vE79Yj2VPPeDCm_VwWeYZWWF9nuKKadI0yrk-dha5-1mvMOSfLwm7q6eqqlVrIJctb3yLAb3k8/s640/day+6+k.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Back to reality <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As we hit the ground, with
the safest, smoothest landing ever, a sense of inexplicable joy enveloped. If
I had it my way, I wouldn’t budge from the spot for a while, as the reality of
it all was still sinking in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But crew members and locals who came running,
excited to hear about my experience, got me back up on my feet and volleyed in
their questions. And so I blurted a few lines none of which I remember today.
But I do remember this strong longing to pull back from the moment; even it was
just for a while. To step back and take it all in—the majestic views, the dive,
the rush, the experience that would soon turn into memories. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5E7Zj2xXSX0-a3MtyatiEf1uXYno_Wy6jmDb8SAtSWrqioOTCGzkQB6tOTE1uSM66VqJ4cmA0pw43ZwbsmTb7c1Bv69qQ2KjOb09RFZTRki7h7mVmrKr8mnWZusJPTxcUpzh2qJ5YO6o/s1600/7U3B9020.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5E7Zj2xXSX0-a3MtyatiEf1uXYno_Wy6jmDb8SAtSWrqioOTCGzkQB6tOTE1uSM66VqJ4cmA0pw43ZwbsmTb7c1Bv69qQ2KjOb09RFZTRki7h7mVmrKr8mnWZusJPTxcUpzh2qJ5YO6o/s640/7U3B9020.jpg" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Surreal, beautiful, special—are
all understatements to what I experienced that day; In fact, the entire Everest Skydive
expedition is simply beyond what words can explain. Grateful was the state
of mind that stayed dominant long after.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTYIFCmObo3lLq1Yr8e1OZwswir9alKiCD0PUKK0WLMQp1BAHPVcSy1ucn1qlOHujGgTyYj09epE9hT0Ikj12YuU2aAUaLdOYykvbKpTnovUc216RXDBcNPJ5ZtX6c9CPtyG2Qm3biXs/s1600/7U3B9026.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTYIFCmObo3lLq1Yr8e1OZwswir9alKiCD0PUKK0WLMQp1BAHPVcSy1ucn1qlOHujGgTyYj09epE9hT0Ikj12YuU2aAUaLdOYykvbKpTnovUc216RXDBcNPJ5ZtX6c9CPtyG2Qm3biXs/s640/7U3B9026.jpg" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It's funny how life works. Because only a month ago, as I bid a bitter-sweet goodbye to my decade-long career as a journalist, I had said, “I can’t wait to see what
adventures life has in store for me now," with absolutely no idea of where I was headed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7878534775426059831" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="16" id="61a7h3hkt01z" src="data:image/gif;base64,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" style="cursor: move;" width="16" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And then life threw at me, skydiving
from the “top of the world.” Adventure doesn’t get better than that, now does it? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Get your own skydiving story<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Join the Everest Skydiving
and Pokhara Skydiving expeditions organised by Explore Himalaya every autumn.
More info on www.everest-skydive.com </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">*My travel vlog SAMMY ADVENTURES will start airing on social media platforms starting February end. Wish me luck! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">All photos by Paul-Henry de Baere</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9407qKS2foNC2E0gI37dXzPhC7klePg3jNiAZJUjBol-qeMYTLnznYQS5c02xp41qMYtGcbm82Psi0nQayAMzUN9BhwfdY_NEQxXROADb7bHNvkOr7oDxET4tIKOedUw7-a8reJqMl-w/s1600/12506923_1628492357413864_132087957_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9407qKS2foNC2E0gI37dXzPhC7klePg3jNiAZJUjBol-qeMYTLnznYQS5c02xp41qMYtGcbm82Psi0nQayAMzUN9BhwfdY_NEQxXROADb7bHNvkOr7oDxET4tIKOedUw7-a8reJqMl-w/s1600/12506923_1628492357413864_132087957_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful people <3</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</div>
Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-31385765895892052922015-06-02T20:40:00.003-07:002015-06-02T20:43:13.839-07:00SUBEK means happiness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The name SUBEK for me is
happiness. And I am sure everybody who knew him would agree. When we’d hear of
SUBEK, it brought smiles to us. That was just the kind of a person SUBEK was.</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The first meeting</b><br />
I was introduced to Subek by my boyfriend, a heli-enginneer, Subek then, was a
co-pilot. We reportedly met as a group of friends several times after that, but
I never really noticed him (and that’s the kind of a person I am. Too involved
with my thoughts, my works, my life. Sucks right!) <o:p></o:p></div>
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It wasn’t until last year,
that he and I started to become real friends. Soon, we were buddies—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">jigris</i> of the first order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Tom Cat, Jerry Mouse </b><br />
If you’d be around us you’d probably use the famous Nepali phrase “kasto musa
ra biralo jasto jhagada gareko.” <br />
<br />
We loved pulling each other’s legs. He’d tease me, I’d tease him back, we both
loved hitting each other witty comebacks—and then laugh, endlessly laugh. I
don’t remember a moment, a day, where I might have met my Subek, and we didn’t
get to laughing. Like, ‘rolling on the floor’ laughing. He loved sharing
happiness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">My popular buddy boy</b><br />
Subek was so full of life. And everytime he’d come around, we would all feel so
much more alive. Subek created our little “Barista Gang” and took upon him to
call each of us and invite for a coffee hangout whenever possible after-work.
He also created his gang of futsal-enthusiasts of pilots and engineers and
arranged a game several times a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Apart from these, Subek, had
many such groups of friends—of many I don’t know, but I was aware of. His
phones (three of them) wouldn’t stop ringing, or ‘pinging’ with text messages,
fb emails or notifications. <br />
<br />
He was just friends with, perhaps, everyone he’d ever come across in his life.
And he’d make them all feel (like he made me feel) so special—one of his own.
Subek was there for everyone, he’d gladly help anyone without a second
thought—with him around, life felt safer, better, happier. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC4PPPzW2RkRq_V-HbQ1vVf75ve1P84XR8DtOfa-sgHgqynJBvWF9my9UlO0vXHwukl02wZmOCturhm_AGo76wJvRqxgy3ur5LvktLScncrVgPosWtpRHIfmXB9kQ7WEEjgSnQHm7X6_Q/s1600/barista.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC4PPPzW2RkRq_V-HbQ1vVf75ve1P84XR8DtOfa-sgHgqynJBvWF9my9UlO0vXHwukl02wZmOCturhm_AGo76wJvRqxgy3ur5LvktLScncrVgPosWtpRHIfmXB9kQ7WEEjgSnQHm7X6_Q/s640/barista.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Barista Gang </span></td></tr>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">My budgeting skills at test<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Around the beginning of
April, Subek and I caught up after work for an evening meal of some Korean
food. I was learning about “money management” and I shared of my newfound
knowledge with him. He made a wrinkly face and said, “oi yaar, malai paisa save
garna sikana yaar.” We both started laughing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I drew up a budget sheet for
him, and told him how he should segregate his savings, his investments and his
expenditure. It never worked. And I am glad it didn’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
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For a 25-year-old, Subek
always had a lot of money. And he spent it all on others. Only last week, he
was ecstatic to tell me how he had earned several lakhs as his flying allowance
during the rescue and relief operations and how he wanted to donate it all back
to the victims. It was gestures like these that the made that made us all feel
a little too small in front of him. <o:p></o:p></div>
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For as long as he lived,
Subek always gave. He gave away his money, his time, his skills, his ears to
those who wanted to share their gloom, his shoulders for those who wanted to
lean on and cry, his sense of humour to jolly up everyone and his special
friendship to all he met. <o:p></o:p></div>
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He was like a dream. Simply
the best person, the best friend, one can ever imagine having. And he went away,
in matter of moments, just like a dream. <o:p></o:p></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUekM_gGyf17f5ocofO_SZBPhOjCwDR9u71OD0fVzuVR99YjzzSsYE1LcyYTfC4bWda-XwPZSREF-OHodLEd0-Q9Fz76zoQXBVG7RohtX2fiAGoMZGKmM8m6rAx8ODs8mDgNHGRrTe-k4/s1600/subek+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUekM_gGyf17f5ocofO_SZBPhOjCwDR9u71OD0fVzuVR99YjzzSsYE1LcyYTfC4bWda-XwPZSREF-OHodLEd0-Q9Fz76zoQXBVG7RohtX2fiAGoMZGKmM8m6rAx8ODs8mDgNHGRrTe-k4/s400/subek+.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our Captain Subek </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Subek, the hero</b><br />
Subek loved narrating his adventurous stories of flight. He really did love his
job—how rare is that to find. He would praise the magnificent beauty of our
pristine country-side, he would give us animated accounts of how he saved
people. Precisely on May 18 as we sipped on our coffees at Herman’s, he walked
me through a terrifying account of his almost near-death experience at
Sindhupalchowk. “We had reached a remote village squeezed in-between two
hills,” he said. “And suddenly one of the hills exploded (perhaps due to an
aftershock) and then started a vicious landslide. There were only a few kids
and one adult guy around. I got them all inside the chopper to have them fly
out to a safer place as the landslide was soon coming towards us. I started the
engine of the heli, but it wouldn’t start at all. I tried several times and it
just wouldn’t start. I held the kids tight and thought this was the end of my
life. The landslide got closer to where we were. But just in time the engine
went on. We flew out minutes before the landslide hit us.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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He then showed me a big silver
pendant he was wearing (blessed by some guru). “This,” he held up the pendant,
“is what saved me that day.” He kissed it and put it back. <o:p></o:p></div>
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That pendant was not to save
him the second time. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">One last time<br />
</b>Subek and I had planned to go buy
some basketball shoes on June 1, but we didn’t. We instead chose to chill out
in a road-side teashop outside my office. He was riding his Enfield that day—we
both took the opportunity and clicked endless pictures with it to post it on
our social medias. <o:p></o:p></div>
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An old man named Durga Dai
runs the tea shop, and I told Subek of how he had lost his wife a couple of
years ago. Subek then went on and ordered more than he or I could eat—samosas,
tea, chhoilas…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Esto thau haru ma sakdo
dherai khaidinu parchha ke bujhis. Uniharulai ekdumai help hunchha,” he said. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">This morning<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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This morning, as I read some
papers with the news of my Subek’s demise, it felt so unreal. The tears I had
managed to finally hold up, came rolling down again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Subek always wanted to be a
hero. And he was one—a hero of our lives, a hero who ruled our hearts, and a
hero who single-handedly saved hundreds of lives through his rescue flights and
thousands others with his loving, caring and oh-so-kind nature. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And he died a hero; while on
a relief mission. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t know why, but I feel,
that he is happy to have lived and died such a heroic life. And that, when us
friends had huddled up and hysterically cried, he was right there beside us
asking us to cheer up (and even making fun of our swollen crying faces.) And that,
when we all saw his body that he had already left for the first time, he was in
the room passing a remark on how his shoes were intact (he was always so fond
of his shoes, he always wore them new and clean). <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><b>Dear Subek,</b></o:p></div>
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One of my most
treasured friends, the closest one to my heart, I miss you so much. And I
regret not ever telling you this in person, but I love you so much. Thankyou
for all that you’ve done and been to me. The times I have spent with you were
one of the best times of my life. Be my angel now, Subek, show me the right way
in life, teach me to be more like you. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I know you’ll always be
around. I just know it. Stay happy, spread your joy to all those ‘on the other
side.’ We shall all join you one day, some day. And we shall have our Barista
gathering there. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Your Uncle Sam loves you. We all love you. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>P.S.</b> “Khub hero bhais.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIFDlK-HEVybuQmfAM2c4pHK3SEx-atvMs-ijdDXb1sQrNUh386jzHsxMXPhB9CMJw5POg4ysrGhxab3Q_th_wYSSlnP0yNdAXjROhi63YxX7JD3adla6M6MK5evxyPyIU-nrPAB5Vx0k/s1600/2015-06-03_08.43.49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIFDlK-HEVybuQmfAM2c4pHK3SEx-atvMs-ijdDXb1sQrNUh386jzHsxMXPhB9CMJw5POg4ysrGhxab3Q_th_wYSSlnP0yNdAXjROhi63YxX7JD3adla6M6MK5evxyPyIU-nrPAB5Vx0k/s640/2015-06-03_08.43.49.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">Of what would be, our last viber conversation. He always knew how to make me laugh. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcSaEL2yEHDh4NpUFcLcdSGJg1zwvtEI4goQw09RU1_zbCveTrmSJ9oUVlzocvqoJyxcs6F9QRISpquamHpx9o5WnmGt7vyaSkJHKE83qOiOH_FcIhbXuKgz95X1jLADTKY7WqpF3if0/s1600/2015-06-03_08.41.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcSaEL2yEHDh4NpUFcLcdSGJg1zwvtEI4goQw09RU1_zbCveTrmSJ9oUVlzocvqoJyxcs6F9QRISpquamHpx9o5WnmGt7vyaSkJHKE83qOiOH_FcIhbXuKgz95X1jLADTKY7WqpF3if0/s640/2015-06-03_08.41.14.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">He loved his bike. And I am glad he got to ride it one last time. So, glad he came to meet me one last time too. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnfDBRve7IYU3Qj6w1Z-bbj0wdEk2tAIQ-qGLPqrZmB4bOQlAsSc2P_87ULauq5qkoNziZiH6Tk2BLR6veDewPSWZOBOx1efHE_9JpHNiHG6HuP8VcRhGSKmQmAomJCPrQR-y6BUVJDg/s1600/IMG_2942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnfDBRve7IYU3Qj6w1Z-bbj0wdEk2tAIQ-qGLPqrZmB4bOQlAsSc2P_87ULauq5qkoNziZiH6Tk2BLR6veDewPSWZOBOx1efHE_9JpHNiHG6HuP8VcRhGSKmQmAomJCPrQR-y6BUVJDg/s1600/IMG_2942.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Being silly with Subek <3</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1waOO3mHw-P4U5GEASUnx4KOrMv_U9Myzg_3QRn7KKwPxNvXLKUgiBAl3w9R9YoEKWEoXgvYpvEc3BKBpQNo7K4L_pmBGxFc5FVESxc8iuecStFaiG37-vdGcB3kgdiftdk0EqSU0dRA/s1600/IMG_2593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1waOO3mHw-P4U5GEASUnx4KOrMv_U9Myzg_3QRn7KKwPxNvXLKUgiBAl3w9R9YoEKWEoXgvYpvEc3BKBpQNo7K4L_pmBGxFc5FVESxc8iuecStFaiG37-vdGcB3kgdiftdk0EqSU0dRA/s1600/IMG_2593.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Subek loved sports. Futsal and Basketball were his favorites. </span></td></tr>
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</o:p></div>
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Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-10182471565836700832013-05-23T01:59:00.000-07:002013-05-25T01:02:01.286-07:00Miss Tourism Queen Asia- The Journey That Was<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<h4 style="text-align: left;">
Finding My Sunshine</h4>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Written - may 19, 5:03pm </b></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRNk33fak2XG-VexoACbSFdE8LN5rx8ufbhsKCd6qBnP-MsPzD9KJfqu0mU1i5bTeyOL1oPw29FFwziXQoFS6UkANNY1E1q76e125DtM2P9Hct06AajMmlC20u2e2MvuIbCg4Z9XhQzTA/s1600/IMG_3893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRNk33fak2XG-VexoACbSFdE8LN5rx8ufbhsKCd6qBnP-MsPzD9KJfqu0mU1i5bTeyOL1oPw29FFwziXQoFS6UkANNY1E1q76e125DtM2P9Hct06AajMmlC20u2e2MvuIbCg4Z9XhQzTA/s320/IMG_3893.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">View from my window seat in the plane</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><div style="font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span style="font: 13.0px Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> am stuck in a plane...yes inside an airplane for the past three hours now. I have to catch a connecting flight to kathmandu from Guangzhou that leaves at 7 pm. And I am here at Shanghai airport, inside a plane listening to Taylor swift on loop and trying my best to avoid worrying.</span></span></div>
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font: 16.0px Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Worrying never solved any problems so why do it? ' said Buddha. He be a wise guy like that and I love abiding by his sayings. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">And as it is my Chinese co-passengers talking to each other in Chinese, flies right above my head anyway. But hey wait, the pilot just announced that due to bad weather people wishing to cancel this flight may do so. Slightly entering the panic zone now. Panic because I don't have my organiser's contacts nor is there internet around.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(<b>They ask us to walk out to the lobby and wait for the flight</b>)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Funnily though, I am happier to be outside here than inside the plane really. Of course I am gonna miss my flight to home because its already 6:15 now. At this point of time reaching Guangzhou or not, I am screwed either ways. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But thank god I am out here because the overtly friendly gentleman sitting beside me was ....well....acting a little too friendly for my liking. And I would have agreed to return his friendly advancements if he just wasn't so dumb to understand that I am not CHINESE, although I admit, I may look like one :/</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And it's amazing how he can continue to make conversations with me in Chinese for hours ...despite of my relentless 'no speak Chinese. I no Chinese. Only English please' . Don't even get me started about the god awful breath he brought along in his 'delightful?' convos. Lol </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But hey, the man got my writing juices flowing, because I started pretend-writing on my ipad just to shut him up on the first place. Also listening to swifty again, after so long, made me realise how I miss writing my own songs too. So you see, everything happens for a reason, and the reason is always good. This would be my blog update after the longest time and I guess i have the bad-breathe dude to thank for it ;)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That said, let me tell you what happened at my finale last night. Miss China won. China had invested so much to fly in contestants from 37 countries, keeping them in a 5 star hotel and putting up a great show, with massive audience and a gigantic stage-- crowning their own delegate for the title seemed legit, I think. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Miss China the winner of MTQA</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And complaining about how the results of beauty contests are pre planned is such a boring cliche. So I will just leave it at that. The only thing that matters to me right now and the one thing that I know from my heart is that Nepal did good. Really good. Gave it her heart and soul and had a jolly good time all along. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And guess with what title was Nepal adorned this time? They crowned Miss Nepal with yet another international title, the glorious crown of ....wait.....hear the drumrolls......PRESS PRINCESS!!! In all honesty, when us girls were first informed about the contest's subsidiary titles ... I had cracked up saying 'jeez what funny titles they have- miss charm , miss press princess??? Puhleez' and we all let out a hearty laughter. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So you see when I was called out to receive the title, my gal pals were giving me these giggling glances and I really couldn't stop smiling the whole way when receiving it .... Giggle is what I wanted to do really. But hey an award is an award and this one's for you Nepal. Although I would've wanted to go for the big crown....ah well.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, my first reaction when they called out my name? - ' Did I hear that right?'. Then my uber positive personality rushed in to my rescue, convincing me that I couldn't have been given a better suiting award than that. If you think of it, I started working as a journalist since the age of 17 and participated in pageants ever since 18, and interestingly have been very active in both till date. So really, I am the ultimate press princess ... One who is both behind and infront of the world of press :)</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKIQZUd5N0X6Gqs9Wv0Gdhwu-0PTUVMmqNfY1q60rlZtN16_KW640NmXpaoYrKVoS0g-WaeltLLaylOEM8QPNsR82CSxvCc9O_wm4djs2vKoK18_6P3QMiGIFAvs30v5VIWA3ii6mFMk/s1600/WIL_2097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKIQZUd5N0X6Gqs9Wv0Gdhwu-0PTUVMmqNfY1q60rlZtN16_KW640NmXpaoYrKVoS0g-WaeltLLaylOEM8QPNsR82CSxvCc9O_wm4djs2vKoK18_6P3QMiGIFAvs30v5VIWA3ii6mFMk/s640/WIL_2097.JPG" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Love that flowy gown by my super talented pal Subu aka Subexya Bhadel :) </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It is times like these that i so enjoy the universe's sense of humour, really! And I can't be thankful enough for all the joys it brings along in my life from time and again. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Reality though, Press Princess title stands for the contestant who manages to be a darling of the Chinese media coverage. And the fact that I earned maximum press attention among all the contestants makes me happy too. Donning the sash with my country's name across my chest oh-so-proudly... I had the time of my life here. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As I now sit flipping through the pictures of my 10 days in the contest, I realise how badly I'm gonna be missing everything. And how lucky I am to be given an opportunity to be a part of something like this, twice in a row. As the driver drove me to the airport I couldn't help but regret how I couldn't bid a proper goodbye to some of the good friends I made there; how i will probably never meet these girls with whom i shared one of the most amazing phases of my life. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When with a Korean, pose like a Korean!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">This morning as I left my hotel room with my Korean room mate dozing off in her bed, I got all teary eyed. Didn't have the heart to wake her up as all of us - the victims of final night partying that we were, had gone to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. And there I was leaving for my flight as early as 7 am. So I left her a note - THANKYOU for being a great room mate...I will miss you (smiley face). And I left. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In a state of gratefulness, I can't skip mentioning the amazing love and support from everybody back home. THANKYOU so much everyone. To be supported like the way you did was my only real strength. True, how Nepal may not have huge sponsors to back up national contestants or have so much money to purchase title crowns ... but we have genuine love here. And that is a special gift to have. A priceless gift. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oops... HOME!?! thinking of home reminds me, how tensed my family and friends must be right now , as I have been out of contact for exactly 32 hours now. They have no idea where I am, and I have no means of communicating with them either. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Falling in love with Chinese babies ...so easy <3</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But if they know me well, they know that wherever I am, I am safe, calm, happy and smiling. Notice that smile in every single picture of mine? It is so hard to wipe off that smile -honest. And for this life that I have been gifted with that I work to make amazing for me and everybody around me, everyday... Smiling is the only option that's up for grabs anyway :)</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjit3oMKS4jEsRCXC2YVK468vIDWw631is8FG1800rzd94H4QesoHVTykyN-SzSnA4AKiVJhNT88yts4ozJYFqTn1MIHx2oWBeju_jsOm3DXbNwpuAROzmhqCCSWEWEb8VBJwu57fymwWQ/s1600/IMG_3858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjit3oMKS4jEsRCXC2YVK468vIDWw631is8FG1800rzd94H4QesoHVTykyN-SzSnA4AKiVJhNT88yts4ozJYFqTn1MIHx2oWBeju_jsOm3DXbNwpuAROzmhqCCSWEWEb8VBJwu57fymwWQ/s640/IMG_3858.jpg" width="478" /></span></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">One of my favourite gals in the contest- Miss Mongolia</span></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That said, I am back on the plane to Guangzhou. It's 8:45 pm now. If my connecting flight is also delayed, it'd work out great or me. If not? Well, I trust myself enough to find my ray of sunshine there too. I trust myself to reach home safely somehow and manage to successfully post this post.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Only .... The bad breath guy is back on my side, worse... he has started to let out big, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">durgandhit</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> yawns this time, and I have no clue in hell as to how to deal with that.</span></span></div>
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And as much as I'm tempted to say 'I shall keep you all in the loop'. Believe me you wouldnt want to be in it. Its a miracle enough that im not nauseating already..... not just yet at least. Yikes!!!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">A big THANKYOU from the heart to all the supportive designers whose amazing designs I got to wear everyday at the contest. Special thanks to Subexya Bhadel who guided me in the contest's wardrobe selections like a true sister <3 love you Subu :)</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqDfge74556DFWTuhVs5OfwcUV4tOkcqJMJtSV1mf_OOxV8QP8UEWZKAvY0mp6jxGnoreKZORmIQcn8sUoVd8V8ajuTgIA0af2W_vcGOdTjdEbT9iiG125BwdxzIeAPM6U4pfQD6flJOU/s1600/IMG_3623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqDfge74556DFWTuhVs5OfwcUV4tOkcqJMJtSV1mf_OOxV8QP8UEWZKAvY0mp6jxGnoreKZORmIQcn8sUoVd8V8ajuTgIA0af2W_vcGOdTjdEbT9iiG125BwdxzIeAPM6U4pfQD6flJOU/s640/IMG_3623.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dress by Tenzin Tseten Bhutia </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dress by AIRA </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dress by Subexya Bhadel</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0WISFpHBqF-BPlqQ4iZk8bD9EAyUD-jsBBDMSnp40vghfWAeX9ra4XxwOwq8ZoHFuVKbFQfgt8M8cGDkLGZerJ1keWk7p80lYm9tw7R2ID14emSzuaQKisK_r2KfzliX0c2XFwTJTXw/s1600/IMG_3759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0WISFpHBqF-BPlqQ4iZk8bD9EAyUD-jsBBDMSnp40vghfWAeX9ra4XxwOwq8ZoHFuVKbFQfgt8M8cGDkLGZerJ1keWk7p80lYm9tw7R2ID14emSzuaQKisK_r2KfzliX0c2XFwTJTXw/s640/IMG_3759.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dress by Bishwo Gautam</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">But since the organisers had us wear sponsored clothes most of the time, I really couldnt parade much in my Nepali designer labels :( however a big, big thankyou to designers Mamta Gurung, Antee Gurung, Nuzhat Qazi and Swornim Rai for their unfailing support and love. Really guys, thankyou so much :') </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Finale night dinner with the ladies </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The pivoting factor of the MTQA contest was the promotion of the hosting city Xitang in China. If you ask me, very Venice like, really. Loved and enjoyed every moment while it lasted :)</span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Update</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">: The cancelled flight came as a boon in disguise. Got an entire day to explore the city of Guangzhou and do a little shopping along the way. Touched down KTM Tuesday night </span></span>:)</div>
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Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-11643359058866205922012-10-03T08:13:00.002-07:002012-10-03T08:36:21.361-07:00Events. Encounters. Life - Meeting Zeenat Aman<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zeenat Aman arrives at TIA</td></tr>
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Ahhh…. Finally, here I am updating my blog after soooooo
long. Feels good. I have so many things to tell, but so less time to share it
all in. </div>
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There was the Fashion Gala event, then the classic diamond
event, then the Dharan fashion show event- ‘ life isn’t made up of big, life
changing events, it is made up of small, special moments’ once said a wise head–well,
not for me. For this past month, life for me has only been
about BIG events snowballing one after the other, so much so that I was in a
little bit of shock today afternoon when I realised that I had finished all my
tasks and actually had free time in my hands. </div>
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But hey! Not complaining. Not complaining at all. After all,
I willingly chose to be a part of all those events, and I like to believe that
the busier I am the more alert my mind and body is. Because you know, well like
almost everybody , I have too been in that side of my life where I used to
spend entire days infront of the TV watching back to back sitcoms, refreshing
the facebook home button every minute for fresh updates, piggin out on junk
food- ahh.. enjoyed those times too. </div>
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But now here I am in an entirely opposite spectrum of my
life where everyday it is work , work , work , meeting new people, doing new
things, writing , writing, working , working…. And this has its own share of
enjoyment too. </div>
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And before I drift off to other topics than which I intended
to write about today, let me cut the chase to what I wanted to share today,
right away. </div>
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Today, I want to talk about the very beautiful Zeenat Aman. </div>
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Miss Zeenat Aman and I were stuck in a vehicle for almost
half an hour- all alone. And this is how it all happened. </div>
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I wanted to bag an exclusive interview with Miss Aman and
had a few talks with the organiser- Classic Diamond to hook me up a meeting
with her. They offered that I accompany them to the airport to pick Miss Aman
and the gang of 10 Indian models , and I hopped onboard right away. </div>
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Zeenat Aman was the first one to be cleared of her baggage
claims and she was escorted to a big car and I accompanied her along. Until the
organisers got the entire team India cleared off from their airport duties, me
and Miss Aman remained in the car, chatting. </div>
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When I was a kid, Zeenat Aman was one actress from Bollywood
that seemed different. She looked modern, bold and oh so beautiful. And now
here she was beside me, and I felt a sense of intimidation casting over me. </div>
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I looked at her face but she would quickly look away. When I
researched about Miss Aman in the internet, there were various news covered on
how she damaged her one eye ( I think it was the left one). It looked smaller
and a little disoriented than the other one, indeed. </div>
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I read stories that said, she was hit by her abusive husband
and another reported that when she had an affair with the already married actor
Sanjay Khan- his wife caught both of them in a hotel lobby where the distressed
wife thrashed a chair against Miss Aman’s face. One source even hinted that she
might have been beaten up by her own son when she was drunk. </div>
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My doubt on her son hitting her soon cleared off though.
When I told her I was 25 years old, she was instantly excited to tell me that
her son too is 25 years old. Her younger son is 22 and she told me how close
all three of them were. ‘ I single handedly raised my both sons you know. Their
father died 15 years ago. We are more like friends than parents and children’
she told me with a hint of a warm smile- reminiscing about her sons, perhaps.</div>
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Here, I am just going to copy paste the interview that I
wrote of her which was published in 19<sup>th</sup> September issue of The
Himalayan Times. Do keep reading after that to know what happened in the day of
the event where Zeenat Aman walked as the show stopper for the jewellery fashion
show. </div>
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<h2 style="text-align: left;">
<b> A Diva Forever</b></h2>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
Zeenat Aman sashayed into town Thursday afternoon and <b><i>Samriddhi
Rai</i></b> caught the timeless beauty for a quick heart-to-heart session. </h4>
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“Beauty, lies not in the face but in the light of the heart”
goes a famous saying and one can’t help but identify the legendary Zeenat Aman
as a living example of the saying. The bollywood sex symbol of the 70’s still
turns heads after all these years and the testimony stood true when the
excitement in the air escalated as soon as people spotted her at the arrival
gate in Tribhuwan International Airport. “<i>Hindi
film ko heroni Zeenat Aman akoraichha,” </i>gushes the crowd as they hurriedly
reach out for their phone cameras and start clicking her pictures away. And in
between all the hiatus, I am introduced to her; she reaches out for a handshake
that is firm yet kind. Her gaze fixed on mine she warmly smiles and I see the
beauty that has people spellbound for decades. As we wait for the rest of the
team to clear out from their baggage claims, I acquaint her to my inquisitive
side. Excerpts: </div>
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<b>When was the last
time you visited Nepal? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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It wasn’t too long ago. I visit Nepal quite often with my
family. We love to come here for quick vacations from time to time. </div>
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<b>How does it feel to
be back? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Ahh…feels great. Nepal holds a very special place in my
life. It was after my movie Hare Rama Hare Krishna that was shot in Kathmandu
that my career in bollywood took an upward spiral. So many memories I have of
this place. I am just loving the fact that I am back here. </div>
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<b>You’ve been a sensual
diva of your time and yet after several decades, people continue to associate
you with glamour factor and here you are walking as a showstopper for a fashion
show? How does that feel? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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I feel deeply honoured more than anything. And in a way it
feels like I have met a full circle in my career. I mean, I started out as a
model, then went on to become a beauty queen, then came bollywood and here I am
yet again taking up assignments in modeling- walking as the showstopper. All in
all, feels amazing. </div>
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<b>In many interviews
that you’ve given you’ve mentioned that you feel sad about the fact that you
were always identified as a sex symbol. Is that true? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Yes, it may be true. People started noticing me for my
“allure factor” and because that factor worked for me and for the movies I
worked for, I kind of got stuck to just that genre of roles. So in a way I do
believe that my sexy bracket sort of hindered the true potential of the actress
inside of me. But hey, no regrets. It was not really a conscious decision to
try and become Bollywood’s first sex symbol but if I did become one, then so be
it. </div>
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<b>How was it living
with the glam doll tag through out your whole life? Did your two sons cope well
with it? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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It took me a while but I did come in terms with the fact that
perhaps people and the society shall forever continue to see me as glam babe.
Regarding my sons, they always really saw me as their mum and nothing else.
We’re pretty tight- my sons and I. After all, I have been single handedly
raising them after the death of their father 15 years ago. </div>
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<b>How has your journey
as a bollywood actress and most importantly as a woman in this world? If there
are any words of wisdom you’d like to pass on to young women reading this right
now, what would it be? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Women we’re strong, both mentally and physically. We are
nurturing creatures, kind and soft but when situation calls us to be tough, we
are that too. And physically if you ask me if we’re the stronger sex and may I
just tell that men would never be able to give birth; to withstand that kind of
excruciating pain- never. So don’t let the society or its norms restrain you in
any way, be yourself, be confident and believe in yourself and believe that
you’re strong is the best advice I can give to any woman reading this. </div>
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<b>Are you content with
your life? If you had the power to go back and change a few sequences of your
life, would you do it? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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I am very happy where I am right now. All experiences-
bitter and sweet, have taught me and moulded me to become the person that I am
today. Life is a beautiful journey and I have learnt and cherished all the
moments as I moved forward. I live my life with no regrets.</div>
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<b>You’re celebrating
your birthday soon, come November. Any birthday plans yet? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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None in specific, but like all my birthdays it shall too be
celebrated in the company of my loved ones with a feeling of gratitude for all
things god and the universe has kind enough to give to me. </div>
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<b>You have a soft
corner for animal rights we hear, and therefore your active involvement in
animal welfare projects…<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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You see, we share this planet with all kinds of animals and
we should respect their existence. They cannot talk or convey what they feel,
therefore being the higher kind, being humans, I feel that it is our duty to
look after them. </div>
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<b>What are the other
projects that you’re currently busy with back home?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Well I keep traveling a lot, either its for my work or for
leisure. Currently, I am also going through a few movie scripts and reviewing
them. So yes, movies are definitely on the cards, I just don’t know which one
yet. </div>
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<b>How excited are you
to walk for the Classic Diamond Jewelry Fashion Show? Do you happen to believe
that diamonds are a girl’s best friend, well…like the rest of the womankind? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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You bet I am excited. I am really looking forward to seeing their
collection and hope to pick some up if I like them. I am also excited to see
and greet the Nepali audience. And yes its no surprise that I love diamonds. I
shop for them whenever possible. </div>
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<b>Nepalis still
remember you as Janice- the beautiful hippie in the movie Hare Rama Hare
Krishna filmed in Kathmandu; and you say that it was a pivotal project of your
career. So would it be okay to say that Nepal is a lucky place for you? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Ahh.. I guess it is lucky for me yes! (laughs) It was after
that movie that I truly became a “star”. </div>
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<b>Alrite then, here is
hoping that your project in Kathmandu this time around too, proves to be as
lucky for you. Any last messages for your Nepali fans you’d like to share then?
<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Just that, I am very happy to be back in this warm and friendly
place and cant wait to walk in the ramp and greet you all. Nepal is very close
to my heart and it feels nice to know that Nepalis continue to have affinity
for me even after all these years. I have nothing but a huge thankyou to give
to you all. See you at the show! </div>
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<b>In case you didn’t
know already…<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Zeenat Aman was a journalist for Femina magazine before she
began career in Bollywood. </div>
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She was crowned Miss India Asia Pacific in the year 1970.</div>
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She got the role of Janice in Hare Rama Hare Krishna as the
last-minute replacement of another actress who refused to play Dev Anand’s
sister not considering the importance of the character. </div>
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Doesn’t her grounded nature and that comforting kindness
just shine through when you read her answers? I felt the same too. I was a bit
nervous, because I had never really interviewed a celebrity before, but she
made things so easy. And a celebrity she was in every right- if anything, her
beauty was celebrated by millions of people all through her youth, and she
continues to emanate this beautiful personality that deserves continued celebration.</div>
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I have always been
really fond of this quote ever since I came across it in the 10<sup>th</sup>
grade. It read ‘ Beautiful young people are accidents of nature; beautiful old
people- works of art’. Didn’t know what it really meant then, just thought it
was so cool that I kept writing the line across the top part of our classroom
black-board, as these kind of inspirational quotes were to be written everyday
as per our classroom rules.</div>
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My class mates might remember how annoyingly and repeatedly
I kept writing this same line over and over again, everyday lol. Sorry , girls!
But my point is, with time I have come to realise the true meaning of the
saying. And sitting there talking to Zeenat Aman, I realised how truly my favourite
quote resonated with this amazing human being sitting beside me. She was
indeed, a true work of art. Kind and humble even with a ginormous fame surrounding her - there is a lot to be learnt by other ‘celebrities’ from Zeenat Aman. </div>
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Actually what follows next, is what I hoped to publish later
as a part 2 of this story, but knowing me – I guess I should all complete it
right now, when I have the time. </div>
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I was too, a part of the Classic Diamond fashion show,
walking as one of the…. ahem ‘celebrity’ models haha. Although, hardly a
celebrity, I just agreed to do it because I would get to walk wearing the most
beautiful and mind you some ‘expensive’ jewelleries- who knows if I ever get to
a place in life where I can actually purchase them and wear it eh? Lol …. And also,
I am always open to new experiences in life. I believe it enriches the person
inside of me, so I said YES to the first request the organisers put across. I
signed up to walk as a model for the very first time.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZoNznlfFRPwOPF8KbqxOL4hgl_VRa9RnWVxNrh9d25W0im8aLil0M0wmUTGyFRkPdt0tA6DkFtbSTalL_sWcFzyEM0C9Fm8ft1ZNSqngOgpAOQZkehQN63ZeMkAgIf5SDAlu-nyqogUE/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZoNznlfFRPwOPF8KbqxOL4hgl_VRa9RnWVxNrh9d25W0im8aLil0M0wmUTGyFRkPdt0tA6DkFtbSTalL_sWcFzyEM0C9Fm8ft1ZNSqngOgpAOQZkehQN63ZeMkAgIf5SDAlu-nyqogUE/s1600/4.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing for a picture with a nice fellow I dont know :) and also I loved the necklace I was wearing!</td></tr>
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Then we were acquainted to the Indian models, they were all
tall and beautiful. But not all of them…not beautiful from inside. One girl in particular was very rude.
When we were practising our sequence, she actually held me from behind, dragged me around to ‘show’ me how its done. I was so offended. Till today, I am torn
between my then choice to remain calm and my unfulfilled gut impulse to yell at
her to back off. At the end of the day though, I am glad I chose the high road;
but a bunch of those models were pretty smart asses. I am sorry to use that word,
but they were. </div>
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And because of some tussles between the Nepali make up
artist and the Indian models in the first year of the same show, this year the
organisers had flown in a hair dresser and a make up artist from India. Oh well,
this time it was perhaps the Nepali girls who were side-lined, because of it. </div>
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I was actually a little hurt when I felt that the hairdresser
and the make up artist was giving more preference and extra care to the Indian
models than us- I will speak for myself and just share my part of the story. I was in line to get
my hair done when this hair dresser lady chose to first attend to an Indian model
who had only just popped in when I had been waiting for quite sometime. Unfair
right!</div>
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But please, I say please…. Don’t perceive anything I am
saying here as a base to wage a racial war against India. It often happens I
understand. But not all of them were bad, is what I am saying. There were some
Indian models who were very sweet and taught us a few tricks of the trade too. So
you see it’s a few rotten potatoes that makes the whole batch look spoilt.
Please review what I am writing, wisely. </div>
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But yes when I was sidelined when doing my hair and make up
and the fact that the make up artist didn’t feel odd to distribute already used
eyelashes to be used by us for the show… and other stuff like these that I was
hurt and felt racial discrimination in my own homeland. Afterall we were the
host, and Nepalis play great hosts we all know about that. Why couldn’t they be
pleasant guests too? Some of the models were acting like ‘celebrities’ when a
bigger celebrity we know of that is Zeenat Aman wasn’t acting like one at all
and was co-operative and nice. </div>
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‘With attitudes as rotten as they had, it is no
wonder some of the girls never made the cut as a famous model in their country’
I thought to myself. A bit evil was the thought- sure, but that is how
disturbed I was feeling at that time.</div>
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Next day of the show, I did most of my own make up, brought
my own lashes, didn’t care if any ‘professional’ would help me out, when I can
take care of myself pretty , darn good.</div>
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I realised that in life and in this world, we keep coming
across situations where people may try to take advantage of you, push you
around, bully you… the only thing we are required to do at that time is stand up
for ourselves and believe that we’re no less special than any other person. If I
had yelled at that Indian Model in front of everyone when she tried to play the
hero, there were chances that after that none of those models would try to act
primadonna infront of the rest of us; but knowing them, there was also a good
chance that they became even more cattier and rage a war against all of our
girls. </div>
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So, you see more often than not, it is wiser to take the high road- be
calm and be the bigger person. And when time comes, and it definitely shall –
where you’re the big shot surrounded by under-dogs, just be nice to them, be
nice to all. The only purpose of our life as I mentioned in my previous blog ‘
is to evolve through this lifetime and many others to be a good human being.’ Just
be as good and as nice as you can be- the worlds seems a lot more beautiful
then. </div>
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All in all, I had an enjoyable experience sharing the ramp
with the Indian models, smiling away as I walked for the 700 plus audience in
attendance, chatted up some more with the very friendly miss zeenat aman
backstage – and just like that earned some brand new experiences for myself
which I shall cherish for the rest of my life. </div>
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Below are some pictures from the show. Hope to post a bunch
of them in my facebook , soon enough. Thankyou for reading folks, I know it was
very very long so kudos to you if you survived all the way through my last
sentence here. Until I update again, wish you all a great life and greater life
experiences ahead. Cheerio!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;">;<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeq_dM6B_CkxmUQM82SHYvZs5OXuJ7pD9OohcQE_ML1jPXPI7YLD8bb5SiUqXBHHc5gwhPY9puqLFHCteYzOLF_lmQLVNU1wk0UsI4oJnXSK_rfA-feJtfgETsGbzzMWu3P5AbhGkSyAs/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeq_dM6B_CkxmUQM82SHYvZs5OXuJ7pD9OohcQE_ML1jPXPI7YLD8bb5SiUqXBHHc5gwhPY9puqLFHCteYzOLF_lmQLVNU1wk0UsI4oJnXSK_rfA-feJtfgETsGbzzMWu3P5AbhGkSyAs/s1600/3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With the Nepali models- Miss Aman :) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglyKPcdPALwCPJIYia9PMcFtZL-SsJ0dVNrnRrldsN80FnYkuGrSAj_wuuNL3cJBIRpJIjcGpKoj44e563GuotqwXimi-pnCY6hqjWzxf8qn771MH8eY1yBYCRsU9CYyeFAzSnr3Duadw/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglyKPcdPALwCPJIYia9PMcFtZL-SsJ0dVNrnRrldsN80FnYkuGrSAj_wuuNL3cJBIRpJIjcGpKoj44e563GuotqwXimi-pnCY6hqjWzxf8qn771MH8eY1yBYCRsU9CYyeFAzSnr3Duadw/s1600/14.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fans crowding Zeenat Aman for a picture</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjlix1gn_u-u4NLpHGDfTJLnGxy7lvao75hU-BJL7-0CGNfIJCIxBcDl4ix6yFILYRwf0nHDiUgcDNxXMkUiFKr8DM285elzxBhrPeke9elOJtEnYGH4dimxVZCRJVxULY_I5HlCvfmDg/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjlix1gn_u-u4NLpHGDfTJLnGxy7lvao75hU-BJL7-0CGNfIJCIxBcDl4ix6yFILYRwf0nHDiUgcDNxXMkUiFKr8DM285elzxBhrPeke9elOJtEnYGH4dimxVZCRJVxULY_I5HlCvfmDg/s1600/5.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From left- thats me , Preena, Pallavi di and Bandana</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXkxzwGrInGhsb_hSKRsBFNcq0kjy2U2xnG9y9ES9Uxy7x7_0PL5oztrcmnDfRm9tZxrPqG5v8KJb6LkFyVM3x09VVuI0ZlDL61XfxTyjcTtxVqX7Ap4u41M81EA6b-v8aS614JKUYJY/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXkxzwGrInGhsb_hSKRsBFNcq0kjy2U2xnG9y9ES9Uxy7x7_0PL5oztrcmnDfRm9tZxrPqG5v8KJb6LkFyVM3x09VVuI0ZlDL61XfxTyjcTtxVqX7Ap4u41M81EA6b-v8aS614JKUYJY/s1600/6.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready to rumble....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXKia-W-cXGz9pBYlu9AslqWGc31LtS0Cu4GjV_rjgKj1I1mMPaVz3jRZsGQJMZjw1xUDvEEPPCZdoA-sQWr6_84PuuGcofX8BBC8suA8KKHAZSRPODQPKH9dmuonE1ZQiHZloISGMScQ/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXKia-W-cXGz9pBYlu9AslqWGc31LtS0Cu4GjV_rjgKj1I1mMPaVz3jRZsGQJMZjw1xUDvEEPPCZdoA-sQWr6_84PuuGcofX8BBC8suA8KKHAZSRPODQPKH9dmuonE1ZQiHZloISGMScQ/s1600/8.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From left thats my pal Saurav, then theres me, then theres Yachnit and Rehan Shah who choreographed the classic diamond jewelry fashion show</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizvRpixDrPlGHZF1_NOUeliaWqYrY9KNEfPsJR24Nd0GNuzEGdLh71S65q6SEA0ceB5VjUJV24m9t9VIP0VGB8_CyL5sXwCpErHSF-CLC7U3K-mOCOCahcjN5AZ2eazVoN1cbhorO0npE/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizvRpixDrPlGHZF1_NOUeliaWqYrY9KNEfPsJR24Nd0GNuzEGdLh71S65q6SEA0ceB5VjUJV24m9t9VIP0VGB8_CyL5sXwCpErHSF-CLC7U3K-mOCOCahcjN5AZ2eazVoN1cbhorO0npE/s1600/9.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cant stop smiling... :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sZN-2QPekGNv0zPFwHhV9_swB9N6vss9tMRr2CAeaIptgGythKCg6vUl6L7IlrV-fSg0JaPPcAVruIwAP1LsnC4wc-Fg6Oju-VAkv_L8Zd5BPmSayBx0cWPk_bvgRnAjVoBpP8YSGQY/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sZN-2QPekGNv0zPFwHhV9_swB9N6vss9tMRr2CAeaIptgGythKCg6vUl6L7IlrV-fSg0JaPPcAVruIwAP1LsnC4wc-Fg6Oju-VAkv_L8Zd5BPmSayBx0cWPk_bvgRnAjVoBpP8YSGQY/s1600/10.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With pretty didis left and right </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXWD51ZuvoV90RCRxAjBPNtEIhoi9LIve0L1m4z0OCpz7J-jcnxxFDABkJMHmll2dYjB6ZqMiJnGQG1UuXzmIZxoU998dwhjLxn4eX5xUe3AxWjm2Bw26MVbDgavBzNooCwBT49NGz-Hw/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXWD51ZuvoV90RCRxAjBPNtEIhoi9LIve0L1m4z0OCpz7J-jcnxxFDABkJMHmll2dYjB6ZqMiJnGQG1UuXzmIZxoU998dwhjLxn4eX5xUe3AxWjm2Bw26MVbDgavBzNooCwBT49NGz-Hw/s1600/2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here comes pictures from the Dharan fashion show. Jharana Bajracharya is another celebrity who is so down to earth, sweet and nice. And might i add, a woman of intelligence and profound wisdom :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GcDquyNfaYebUnEzLkyop7TqQfXufgv6W7S9RyT7z75H9_VOSqGUi8iBoy028cV5uvqtVhYLAiciU4nuUNKDEqU3B2k2WAGL4bSg4veSBh9JEBO1B8QJ_udWYx3ffFjOvaqjOrMKDg0/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GcDquyNfaYebUnEzLkyop7TqQfXufgv6W7S9RyT7z75H9_VOSqGUi8iBoy028cV5uvqtVhYLAiciU4nuUNKDEqU3B2k2WAGL4bSg4veSBh9JEBO1B8QJ_udWYx3ffFjOvaqjOrMKDg0/s1600/1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Malina is missing here... how we had a blast in this show</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ7o3FttPE1Dlqg1nksSXAxJthiESnrENw0pvBe6OsqZ7EF4D3YzuSOmA1wJRvf1YHZ1enBWEDc6MuHukhQ1ZlUKOLZt5NFFBDrrTe01HiOLThW8VNyNfYXHTooZDxYN1zvaWhkLrqTb8/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ7o3FttPE1Dlqg1nksSXAxJthiESnrENw0pvBe6OsqZ7EF4D3YzuSOmA1wJRvf1YHZ1enBWEDc6MuHukhQ1ZlUKOLZt5NFFBDrrTe01HiOLThW8VNyNfYXHTooZDxYN1zvaWhkLrqTb8/s1600/11.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I sang in the show by the way ... the song was WE FOUND LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE by RIHANNA lol </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32O1Ge2nXThg2TDMbqSFrwBeBi7hSoRQjqZXBnOt8v2BJtoSAT6hQ6XHaWByhy2gjF5_thzy6gcGU32Vp0ogiXHI2RgBYBHTPXWp1xmLANVI0tGbT6RfWgMPHdxkgDWpA05vMuaulyOI/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32O1Ge2nXThg2TDMbqSFrwBeBi7hSoRQjqZXBnOt8v2BJtoSAT6hQ6XHaWByhy2gjF5_thzy6gcGU32Vp0ogiXHI2RgBYBHTPXWp1xmLANVI0tGbT6RfWgMPHdxkgDWpA05vMuaulyOI/s1600/12.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check me out without make up ;)<br />
Hope you enjoyed the pics, will be uploading them all in my facebook too .... sooonish <3</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-16476824072394824882012-09-16T10:54:00.002-07:002012-09-17T10:51:27.540-07:00Random day sparking random thoughts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Okay I am gonna write this blog in one breathe. I mean well
not in one breathe of course not, I don’t think that’s humanly possible lol but
I am not gonna go back and check my grammar or fix anything, just gonna keep
writing. No backspaces no deletes.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">.</span></div>
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Today, I am going to keep my blog very individualistic and simple. None
of those elaborated, dramatic posts that I am famous for lol. This one’s just for
me. And many years down the line when I look back and read what I wrote, I want
to be happy and I want my future ME to know how the past ME processed thoughts
in her mind. </div>
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Of the zillion things in life that I want to write about, I would
just like to share the random little day I spent yesterday. <br />
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Last night I walked as a showstopper for a student designer.
Her name is Antee Gurung and is a petite, little sweet thing. My day started
with waking up with my two friends (both girls for your info lol) in the same
bed. We sort of had a teej party celebration the other nite and there were girls sleeping
left and right all over the house- most of them with a hangover btw. </div>
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I don’t drink. I don’t drink alcohol as hard it is for many
to believe, which I still don’t get. And well I don’t smoke either. But I do
agree that I used to judge girls who gets drunk and throw tantrums. Honestly, I
don’t like anybody not guy or a girl who does that. I mean drink, have fun,
party and go home- please don’t put up a show for the world to see rite!</div>
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See! Judgemental. I can be so judgmental at times and I talk
about being afraid of people judging me or my blog updates. Hypocrite? I guess
we all can be from time to time. So yeah… I will let this subject on being
judgemental hanging and will come back here a little later. </div>
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So yeah , I woke up. Greeted people as I made my way to the
kitchen. Made some breakfast for my self and a few others and sat at the dining
table. And then came a, mmm lets call her baini although I am pretty sure she
is my age haha. So she came and sat down next to me. She
had just gotten a huge scolding from her sister for misbehaving the other nite
for drinking too much and not being able to control her high. </div>
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She was mumbling something about her boyfriend and how her
parents would marry her off if they knew she had a boyfriend and that kinda
stuff. And I, as if out of reflex, pitched in , “well, my mom loves my
boyfriend. In fact my whole family is kinda fond of him” I said. </div>
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“youre so lucky” she said “Mine would kill me if they even
got a hint about it.” And then she went on to talk about how her parents used to treat her when she was in school. How they came near to her phone everytime she would be talking to
her friends, how they spied on her, how they asked her to get inside the house
if there were boys playing football across the street opposite to her house. </div>
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Then I suggested maybe if she started working and showing
her parenst how independent she can be, they’ll let her be at ease and she
says, “ going to college and sleeping all day is how I spend my days. I just
wish my future husband’s parents are a little non-strict. I want my husband to
be someone who’d be able to take me out for parties once in a while.” She also
went on to say, how she doubts she has any skills in her or that she would
really be able to work for a living. </div>
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Damn! And mind you. She belongs to a well-to-do family with
educated parents. But because her parents were so scared that their daughter
would astray in bad company they protected her too much – so much that she is
now scared of the real world. She has no guts to face whats really out there
because that is how she has been brought up. And now her heart seeks a man,
much like her parents, who will protect her. </div>
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And might I add, of all the girls that were knocked out by
alcohol the other night- this girl was the wildest. And it got me thinking, oh
my god. I should be thankful that my parents are so liberal and they just let me be me. I started
working when I was 17, went out to hundreds of parties and spent time in company of
all the fun to all kinds of weird people and yet I don’t drink or smoke or
have “drug addict friends” lol. I am not saying that those who drink are bad but in short, I feel I am kinda disciplined and I like to be that way.<br />
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And here is this girl who’s been shown and told to live “by
the rules of society” – and one who puked more than 5 times that night for not
being able to withstand the alcohol she had consumed. <br />
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And I felt sad for her. And I felt sad for all the other
women, men too but mostly women whom I have snap-judged to be “utter idiots”
for letting alcohol <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>have its way
and putting up dramas in public places. From now on though I sure wont be putting
people into “shameless” category just because they’re putting up a drunken
show.After all I have to realize that people hail from all kinds
of lifestyles and life situations and perhaps drinking and talking delusional
rubbish is all the outlet they get in their life.</div>
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Moving on, then I had a meeting scheduled at 1230 yesterday.
Barista Lavazza just opened its branch in Nepal in Uttar Dhoka and I was to
interview the owner and have him share info about the place. Great place,
reasonable prices, ladies please try the mocha frappe -it is to die for. </div>
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Fast forwarding further…..then I reached Trisara restro at
2:30 to check out their runway as I was walking as a showstopper for one of the
sequences in a fashion show that was to happen that nite. Great show, great
audience – I love how interesting fashion shows are picking up in the city.. </div>
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Fast- forwarding the moments further later in the night,
after the show I chose to meet an old friend before I crashed home. And we had
this really long conversation but I will share with you the sentence that came
out of my mouth that was like a moment of profound realization for me. </div>
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We were talking about not changing our nature for somebody
else; that we have to be ourselves and I went on to say, “ But I do want to
change that part of me because I know its wrong. Trying to change myself
doesn’t mean Im trying to be somebody I am not. It only means that I am trying
to be a better human being. And I guess that is the purpose of our life. To
keep discovering the faults in us and keep knocking them out the park.” </div>
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And it was as simple as that. When I started to write my
blog about a year ago, I had written this really long description on what my
purpose in life is and that as humans we must all find our purposes in life. </div>
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After what struck me that night, the only lesson that I have
now learned in my life is that as humans we all have just ONE purpose. Our only
purpose is to acknowledge the dark side in us, toss it away and choose to
become a nicer, a better person. To continuously grow from the realization of
all the mistakes we make and mould ourselves to become better humans- that is our purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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We can all be mean, greedy, jealous, possessive of others,
selfish, lazy bums, gossip-mongers and just pure evil- there is nothing to be
ashamed about that, we’re all humans after all. Lets accept that we can all be
that. But we must also accept that we have the power to rise above it all too.
That we can be utterly kind, loving, respectful, gentle and just plain nice. </div>
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And that conversation sealed my seemingly average day in an
extradordinary way. And I realized that we don’t need big dramatic events to
change the way we think or live. There are teachings in everyday random life. </div>
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<br />
“Just be nice” is the best lesson I have learnt in all these
25 years that I have lived and perhaps until I find another profound moment of
discovery to another secret of life- this will remain the best of advise I can
give to anybody who comes along. </div>
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So yup, phew! So you see if I have so many things to say
about just one day of my life… I cant help but regret about all those days that
I never go to share about. I mean writing about our life’s experiences is like
capturing a moment in life that will never come back. Years from now, all my
blog updates are going to be like these little time capsules where I get to
travel back in time and relive that moment again and that is kinda cool don’t
you think? And that is why I promise myself to record all my passing
thoughts (extraordinary or otherwise) of each passing day, turn them into my tiny time capsules and make
them mine forever.</div>
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Ahh it feels good to talk through writing <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span> until my next post,
big or small, private or public, I hope you guys continue to be with me in my
journey here as a blogger. Wish you all many love and luck in life. Tata <3</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKp4hEUu5UEe0y5n6E3sIpojUIcgeB99WZ89LC85krmG1LKH4saHlflrA__5pyyTi6uO0Sz1JIwDMfDFMerhoYOk_RmCmrfbvLJhp48ggwQKZSWWdMhGhHRJ1K6jknkWq3LvcAlq8UF1s/s1600/hof.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKp4hEUu5UEe0y5n6E3sIpojUIcgeB99WZ89LC85krmG1LKH4saHlflrA__5pyyTi6uO0Sz1JIwDMfDFMerhoYOk_RmCmrfbvLJhp48ggwQKZSWWdMhGhHRJ1K6jknkWq3LvcAlq8UF1s/s400/hof.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Thats Antee-- the designer in printed black dress </span></span></span></td></tr>
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From left well thats me with sarina, subekshya and priyanka :)</div>
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Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-50372950978745621742012-04-25T08:39:00.003-07:002014-05-28T23:45:53.528-07:00The Other Side Of Pokhara<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So well, as declared in my Facebook page here I am all set
to spill the beans on my crazy,weird, funny, hysterical, a little furious-
weekend in Pokhara (April 20-23). Let me zero in right on the topic. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGq0F-es1fDlBc-6Y5g5gMnO3DpncXiiHlJU1GyKcpDlXK_01aYLd8hZCgjv6vlH41e9GeneT5GT3zYgGSZUh1J9dr0agvvSUZW2pXRqbrIPaw47oU4GkeYDRS_iow9cBROp5p79Y-yA/s1600/ticket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGq0F-es1fDlBc-6Y5g5gMnO3DpncXiiHlJU1GyKcpDlXK_01aYLd8hZCgjv6vlH41e9GeneT5GT3zYgGSZUh1J9dr0agvvSUZW2pXRqbrIPaw47oU4GkeYDRS_iow9cBROp5p79Y-yA/s320/ticket.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The posters plasted around the beautiful lake city looked like this :)</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">MY PURPOSE <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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My visit to the beautiful lake city was to host the event
where ADITYA NARAYAN son of the respected and beloved Nepali singer in
Bollywood UDIT NARAYAN were to perform for the first time in Nepal. </div>
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Was I excited? Sure I was. Would I be overwhelmed by his
“stardom”? erm not really. </div>
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And well that is exactly what happened. In fact, I realized
that I had held high expectations on the guy, felt disappointed by the
much-bragged about star performer. More on that later... </div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Good<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span>This was my first time emceeing outside of
Kathmandu and the organizers- KRISS EVENTS, went out of their ways to take care
of me. From tickets, accommodations to food, they beared it all and even paid
me very well. I am all smiles <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvUrN6KPXU5lV5622Nu1BYZM84bcdFc-zZJNVXsl9fW0HNaXe6_nZ-F8nz3H9Uu_HqxWG2Gx_GNvfnsY0QVADQy2yt6AzUJ6TzA8xKIdSUbSfBm1fQSqzfihFJsbFZ3a9XjuMwurj6vJk/s1600/anil-dai-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvUrN6KPXU5lV5622Nu1BYZM84bcdFc-zZJNVXsl9fW0HNaXe6_nZ-F8nz3H9Uu_HqxWG2Gx_GNvfnsY0QVADQy2yt6AzUJ6TzA8xKIdSUbSfBm1fQSqzfihFJsbFZ3a9XjuMwurj6vJk/s320/anil-dai-.jpg" height="320" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am glad I met Mr Anil Thapa on this trip. This man with his incredible jest for life truly inspired me in so many ways. He is a Korean language teacher by the way -but he got many more levels to just being that :)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span>Saw the Pokhara Ko Don lol. Seriously, in a big
hilux ( I think it was a hilux or some other big pick up truck) a party of four
entered from the VIP entrance half-way during the concert. I puzzled them for
Aditya Narayan as all the photographers starting taking non-stop pictures of
them. And to my confused look a photographer came and whispered, “Pokhara ko
Don ho yini haru”. Arey bafrey I said, with a big grin. One of the Dons was
actually young, kinda my age and was actually cute looking haha. I swear I
shouldve taken his picture. Let me see if I can find it in any of the pokhara
sites. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span>Went for the Phewa Taal boat ride after a whole
four years and it was awesome. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span>Captured some interesting captions and
signboards here and there in
Pokhara that brought about series of smiles on my face. Here check them out. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibPtcrwjE2537QaSwdU4g6vgFdNKawJciK6Wgnk3CzmqhNPLOr7J5gR-V-CL0FOO-pGMWRfxtg8qXuQVLHSnFExgyhr8vKjJ1mT1anIf9bA9Y8OPDwEK4AB6oRR0W1sKbbrMZ7Sai5Wus/s1600/boat-caption-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibPtcrwjE2537QaSwdU4g6vgFdNKawJciK6Wgnk3CzmqhNPLOr7J5gR-V-CL0FOO-pGMWRfxtg8qXuQVLHSnFExgyhr8vKjJ1mT1anIf9bA9Y8OPDwEK4AB6oRR0W1sKbbrMZ7Sai5Wus/s320/boat-caption-1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reads: Who is uglier she want to be oversmart - like super LOL</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBMLqJpMopGaNAeoxJzqNr6YYf_5rUFIms8JuWv2cprSVksMMt-BeqrzSwimcRYtRPDUfcFWl2uCCWAws_8wYnUeAYuHa3pCjW6J6UYtw2TUpAMwHK28i4hCN8kBVL-u6pP7E-XLJSUs/s1600/boat-caption.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBMLqJpMopGaNAeoxJzqNr6YYf_5rUFIms8JuWv2cprSVksMMt-BeqrzSwimcRYtRPDUfcFWl2uCCWAws_8wYnUeAYuHa3pCjW6J6UYtw2TUpAMwHK28i4hCN8kBVL-u6pP7E-XLJSUs/s320/boat-caption.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You dont need luck if you are good. Hmm makes some sense eh:) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwPpZOT0L-vBHLOUxYi1B6zSg74P6QsItCkkHKQYXLy02gZfUd276XCy8mKtKbUdr6dMP_xtO9zhus4V28iPnKtCes7NfZnJ5qyKfZJERx776LjgrbOIxvaDhzFtuxbv0izAjtKcw3Cc/s1600/caption-feel-me-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwPpZOT0L-vBHLOUxYi1B6zSg74P6QsItCkkHKQYXLy02gZfUd276XCy8mKtKbUdr6dMP_xtO9zhus4V28iPnKtCes7NfZnJ5qyKfZJERx776LjgrbOIxvaDhzFtuxbv0izAjtKcw3Cc/s320/caption-feel-me-.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dont ask me whose pervy hands are those? haha</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFVevH_il8z77VtDHBs6Nc5oVg_PlmvsilBfY1UDKftoHi7_gPmYDSQ2yJ_c6x8HwEBNrpDjAapOUQI-10gpfYKnfG5NxOV_XR5pKKIF3h4EgNCG0cZMHwLErmK0XcYpOofK7bYbpU5Q/s1600/dal-bhat-power-closeup-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFVevH_il8z77VtDHBs6Nc5oVg_PlmvsilBfY1UDKftoHi7_gPmYDSQ2yJ_c6x8HwEBNrpDjAapOUQI-10gpfYKnfG5NxOV_XR5pKKIF3h4EgNCG0cZMHwLErmK0XcYpOofK7bYbpU5Q/s320/dal-bhat-power-closeup-.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahh typical NEPALI :) no wonder the Thakali Restaurants are so popular </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTwk4Mu8Pw5HCkpI-wKBOAw42TkzNh0Gg-GDPQT0-NGgZlBmlK5wPLfRcUFOSll_P3HsARzjCgwiBXz0uNuzCKRWImtIczC5Fv5Qx2xk_KJMdI5zRttruVygjskB76IlzKkWKPXJnyqA/s1600/dal-bhat-power.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTwk4Mu8Pw5HCkpI-wKBOAw42TkzNh0Gg-GDPQT0-NGgZlBmlK5wPLfRcUFOSll_P3HsARzjCgwiBXz0uNuzCKRWImtIczC5Fv5Qx2xk_KJMdI5zRttruVygjskB76IlzKkWKPXJnyqA/s320/dal-bhat-power.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzajTNN17BW_g10oNPXCVSqi657AkgnCvm8AEuNhXgW98LBf-aCkyhGYh-ywvuPoe5p4B5Bc6gs82bHF-OyBffRBolkPx61LwqYyEpPW0BToXUwerhmcS04Lf4SG3-31rPy7XcdxIJipI/s1600/once-upon-a-time-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzajTNN17BW_g10oNPXCVSqi657AkgnCvm8AEuNhXgW98LBf-aCkyhGYh-ywvuPoe5p4B5Bc6gs82bHF-OyBffRBolkPx61LwqYyEpPW0BToXUwerhmcS04Lf4SG3-31rPy7XcdxIJipI/s320/once-upon-a-time-1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5n8yNBqBeS2-Itfz54LqVnGPlZp9X-BHF4e9up2UKz4Iu9cj6ROq3YylCOAlii1NvQ54I9Xbau3nMcnOUFN_0c5AUo_u2H_OaaIXwd4Qs0kXvY4oL0YTe5n_lyBYFYqHzNH3HrfEPbQk/s1600/once-upon-a-time-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5n8yNBqBeS2-Itfz54LqVnGPlZp9X-BHF4e9up2UKz4Iu9cj6ROq3YylCOAlii1NvQ54I9Xbau3nMcnOUFN_0c5AUo_u2H_OaaIXwd4Qs0kXvY4oL0YTe5n_lyBYFYqHzNH3HrfEPbQk/s320/once-upon-a-time-2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erm.... Once upon a time in Pokhara, I went to a once upon a time restaurant. Yes I did. Bad pancakes they served but steak was yummm :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipK9U1-B_uzmj1n7aMivY6hjIia5eu25sNDplDfcyw3ocFTPPGs1g6Xk5dGErtqTWgdHhbGoEx2r5j_HpDmIdVUHM6tD7lc7d9OInpDqbb9FEKOZ17edHedyOrn38KhoL-yRQZzCJE3X8/s1600/pollution-by-women.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipK9U1-B_uzmj1n7aMivY6hjIia5eu25sNDplDfcyw3ocFTPPGs1g6Xk5dGErtqTWgdHhbGoEx2r5j_HpDmIdVUHM6tD7lc7d9OInpDqbb9FEKOZ17edHedyOrn38KhoL-yRQZzCJE3X8/s320/pollution-by-women.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pollution made by women? Huh! haha</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhovkDZVggCwRGoNj3niM9fTf9GfAROOFlQuTyorR9sm1n2fIId3T57FoJ1_MB1VcIlDaj1hfe5V_ZyXYrP1Hrq5XtXPEwcN85TPQLv7Gzu91VUQwAvucQTrf7m7p-1hZwUQLVpLSxXzx8/s1600/yes-please-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhovkDZVggCwRGoNj3niM9fTf9GfAROOFlQuTyorR9sm1n2fIId3T57FoJ1_MB1VcIlDaj1hfe5V_ZyXYrP1Hrq5XtXPEwcN85TPQLv7Gzu91VUQwAvucQTrf7m7p-1hZwUQLVpLSxXzx8/s320/yes-please-.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YES that Tshirt is ridiculous. PLEASE dont wear it the next time. THANKYOU for putting a smile across my face with your wonderfully captioned Tee anyway :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqju5rrTPmx5tMWIhBkd2HzWYZ1_0noiEdlLaShoAv9xC1u5nwNn1rEJ7rSvcm3NwKCl-olqWJJCwondHeGKgrttQiHMW5_wH7PA8D-8GSRfkkgm2wQ0x8D2n8eKlyw8rSUv5xwp2MGP0/s1600/laundry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqju5rrTPmx5tMWIhBkd2HzWYZ1_0noiEdlLaShoAv9xC1u5nwNn1rEJ7rSvcm3NwKCl-olqWJJCwondHeGKgrttQiHMW5_wH7PA8D-8GSRfkkgm2wQ0x8D2n8eKlyw8rSUv5xwp2MGP0/s320/laundry.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It is the "wash and dry by PROFESSIONAL MACHINE" that had me rofl-ing. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span>Sabin Rai was one of the best parts of my trip
to Pokhara. Hadnt hung out with him again in full four years so was nice to
catch up with him. The jokes he tosses are legendary and its so nice to see and
meet and spend time with a truly talented and celebrated artiste who is so down
to earth and humble. One of Sabin dai’s band members tells me that one of the
weirdest ways any emcee has called him on stage was by saying this “ Aba audai
hunuhunchha Sabin Rai unko “kalo kalo” liera”Directly translated to – “Now here
comes Sabin Rai bringing along with him his black, black”. “Kalo Kalo Raat”-
matrai bhandeko bhae pani ta hunthyo- Sabin dai says with a big smile and I was
literally on the floor. </div>
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(Info: Sabin Rai has a hit song that is
titled Kalo Kalo Raat) </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHkU2iYWyUlFxDipNhUmBQblQRO4q-BYZrldqNqHrP8JiDAHSvAvMEzVYy-61-FUw86RO1lYcHaJTEZNcalmS3YpQiAogrxdme9ISO_rizfkJMn-S8hx1E8pj-P6GteroZuYi1er1l5U/s1600/sabin-dai-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHkU2iYWyUlFxDipNhUmBQblQRO4q-BYZrldqNqHrP8JiDAHSvAvMEzVYy-61-FUw86RO1lYcHaJTEZNcalmS3YpQiAogrxdme9ISO_rizfkJMn-S8hx1E8pj-P6GteroZuYi1er1l5U/s320/sabin-dai-.jpg" height="320" width="198" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Sabin Dai :)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span>Other funny dialogues that I overheard in my
trip are as follows</div>
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Conversation between our hotel owner and
one of the patrons at a buffet dinner. </div>
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Patron: Dai, ke ho yo. </div>
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Owner: Chicken ho. </div>
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Patron: Eh laaa, ma ta vegeterian ho. </div>
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Owner: Haina khas ma Chicken pani veg nai
ho, katey pachhi matrai non-veg.</div>
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</span></span>Conversation between Sabin Rai and one of his
band members </div>
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Band member: Dai , swimming janu parchha
hai aja please </div>
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Sabin Rai: Aaahh janna ma, swimming na
fwimming timi haru ja</div>
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Band member: Ani tya aera tapai swimming
garnai parchha bhanney chhaina ni ta. Aera dubey bhai halyo ni. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6U4viYP8d209aqOtgsC-Y3TZKbiOqzWmjtUoHkUYMGxE9xBfjahVEpkC0C-FNeBj3woj-xa790TwEvSLPEudFhx6DBrYDHx1in3C7TqIGc5LvPHroscsamc1ypf_-m2NtTJFmJoZtT4/s1600/food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6U4viYP8d209aqOtgsC-Y3TZKbiOqzWmjtUoHkUYMGxE9xBfjahVEpkC0C-FNeBj3woj-xa790TwEvSLPEudFhx6DBrYDHx1in3C7TqIGc5LvPHroscsamc1ypf_-m2NtTJFmJoZtT4/s320/food.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old lan hua china restaurant- Lake side.. highly recommended. Authentic, super-delish food prepared by a Chinese Chef himself. And its so reasonably priced. Try the Kung-Pao chicken ...oh I am still drooling. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxSwze7kKlYBkNpukKroNiLPLmgA5mAqoVZOlPbA0_SWwGNsUvINmG_UgwJFTBAW7R-rlSouxkLIZVRbmrKgLm2SZPtK9nkeGZS-lpbaYdKpyNFKiS4BLPvd7Wq6mks8-vW09oolr9Hgc/s1600/mc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxSwze7kKlYBkNpukKroNiLPLmgA5mAqoVZOlPbA0_SWwGNsUvINmG_UgwJFTBAW7R-rlSouxkLIZVRbmrKgLm2SZPtK9nkeGZS-lpbaYdKpyNFKiS4BLPvd7Wq6mks8-vW09oolr9Hgc/s320/mc.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hmm the view ?? ;) </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span>And as always, the enchanting Pokhara with its relaxed
ambience, endless mountain ranges and laid-back awesomeness makes me fall in
love with it all over again and again and again. </div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Bad <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Damn those Pokhara taxis don’t have no meter
box- that means one has to move around in Taxis by bargaining the rate before
the ride every time. And boy, will they haggle all the money out of you lol.
That is probably why it is a good idea to hire a scooter for a day to move
about in Pokhara. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz10GZcDTzSOx-yRzU3_yX_xYOeh6-FPdmVCqg8oBcJAVZMFTK_64Gf_YPdgXLkGUBhLtWqM3eXl6UbLnlG-Y_jN_GpJ9K4veDvyDWn6XdsmWXzWIAruatLziL6Lnx7o70Njt3ljTuw5Y/s1600/taaxi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz10GZcDTzSOx-yRzU3_yX_xYOeh6-FPdmVCqg8oBcJAVZMFTK_64Gf_YPdgXLkGUBhLtWqM3eXl6UbLnlG-Y_jN_GpJ9K4veDvyDWn6XdsmWXzWIAruatLziL6Lnx7o70Njt3ljTuw5Y/s320/taaxi.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See.. no meter box there! :/</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span>Also bad and really sad was the state of Phewa
taal. I saw this foams of white something that was floating on the shore and I
was informed that it was because of all the clothes-washing that is done in the
once-pristinely clean beautiful lake. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichDbixV-gu4Ur7fi2VLGKU-coyM-wkO0efLUAVUr3X6YbBko6ychOmDfU3BTxG1QYz7iib5NlnWmOS_mQjLeniYue0GZbDo4ERZ3zsXfBtvnCn1v_wfOv7xoLA8QOd0vjlNBPVvuzVLg/s1600/phewa-foam-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichDbixV-gu4Ur7fi2VLGKU-coyM-wkO0efLUAVUr3X6YbBko6ychOmDfU3BTxG1QYz7iib5NlnWmOS_mQjLeniYue0GZbDo4ERZ3zsXfBtvnCn1v_wfOv7xoLA8QOd0vjlNBPVvuzVLg/s320/phewa-foam-2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAy86XOBHxOS1ZWJ1KnFVvnFj74g33bAmKRMw1GLVFfTEwtm7CRPm_-hUvrn-qCGCJZbedzMkKF4KNVkAD9bNfcZ-l6yVlurk1mLZrd6a6s75N6aW4Aznk8Eyp-FbCYNI7XKchHRnjbXc/s1600/phewa-foam-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAy86XOBHxOS1ZWJ1KnFVvnFj74g33bAmKRMw1GLVFfTEwtm7CRPm_-hUvrn-qCGCJZbedzMkKF4KNVkAD9bNfcZ-l6yVlurk1mLZrd6a6s75N6aW4Aznk8Eyp-FbCYNI7XKchHRnjbXc/s320/phewa-foam-2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breaks my heart to see the polluted Phewa Taal. Can only hope it doesnt turn into another Bagmati. </td></tr>
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Other than that, I did all the things that one does when in
Pokhara. Went to fewa taal, walked about like a real tourist, purchased
souvenirs for the heck of it– hey I don’t smoke or drink I have to
find something to keep myself entertained , don’t I? LOL. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMIdQRkRyD_K1cMGylUVSlfepdF6jh-AmyWJUxOaTAP19t4EwSCccMEzbWKRDJskpllcsVegIHXZXOOMut9jCuBCk6_76owuZhHgd7Bkh4Ta815KPtttJzuirJVAB-aElXOmrHvnB1nMM/s1600/hatti-ko-chak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMIdQRkRyD_K1cMGylUVSlfepdF6jh-AmyWJUxOaTAP19t4EwSCccMEzbWKRDJskpllcsVegIHXZXOOMut9jCuBCk6_76owuZhHgd7Bkh4Ta815KPtttJzuirJVAB-aElXOmrHvnB1nMM/s320/hatti-ko-chak.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this is what we bought in Pokhara acting like total tourists again lol. Anything in PINK give it to me baby :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR_m9sId2zc8MTJN615vScFn8r1KHE1yUKjj3SqNsPAJ-Rk_KQNGlcbCCMPIT5L21rJaRxqt7PGzTbMM_XzjDoKjKCEKoWF1JxJ5JbbmA_XpFUWyodKaYqnQ4LnygFLnng4xCXjIjqTdE/s1600/beetle-blog" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR_m9sId2zc8MTJN615vScFn8r1KHE1yUKjj3SqNsPAJ-Rk_KQNGlcbCCMPIT5L21rJaRxqt7PGzTbMM_XzjDoKjKCEKoWF1JxJ5JbbmA_XpFUWyodKaYqnQ4LnygFLnng4xCXjIjqTdE/s400/beetle-blog" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">. I love walking around Pokhara streets in my chappals like the absolute tourists - not my beetle though:)</td></tr>
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And despite all the highs and lows within just 3 days of a
visit to Pokhara, I cannot wait to get back there again. Thankyou for reading
folks. I hope you enjoyed the pictures too. Until my next blog this is a good
bye. </div>
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Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-34316798011797191392012-02-25T08:55:00.008-08:002012-02-25T10:57:44.561-08:00Nepali movie Loot grosses over 2 Crore 55 Lakhs in 7 weeks<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhGtqUpgA2KcbrEeIJPe6rDR7xVnw6K2m-rjRsXV4QSjGp_o50o7blp3j7iI1y11eG2wPpLT1li_uAd1ETcMHxgWa7mj1Lc-_nSvn2DQ4lBRnxNlEI4DEAnI8-lFLT4kU0nGH3x684jRM/s1600/head+foto+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhGtqUpgA2KcbrEeIJPe6rDR7xVnw6K2m-rjRsXV4QSjGp_o50o7blp3j7iI1y11eG2wPpLT1li_uAd1ETcMHxgWa7mj1Lc-_nSvn2DQ4lBRnxNlEI4DEAnI8-lFLT4kU0nGH3x684jRM/s400/head+foto+.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b><br />
</b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">“Loot” grosses over Rs 25.5 million (2 crore 55 lakhs) in seven weeks making history for being the highest earning Nepali movie of all time </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am beyond happy for this movie Loot that is doing amazingly well, not just in Nepal but everywhere in the world with decent Nepali population. And if you haven’t watched the movie yet, you owe it to the Nepali-for-Nepalis spirit to GO WATCH IT. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And if you think I am pitching in the patriotic angle just for the sake of it. Think again. </div><div class="MsoNormal">How many of us out there ridicule Nepali actors? I bet a lot. I mean, of course with their cheesy dialogues, over dramatized expressions, senseless fashion, stories that reek of a bad bollywood copy, their dhishum-dhishum fight scenes that indicate Nepal never moved on from the 80’s -Yes, most of us are ashamed of how Nepali movies follow the same formula, time and again. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And we have all had a good time sharing their ridiculousness on facebook, haven’t we? some of the movie scenes like “maile englishma graduate gareko” to the song “yaarling” have had several hundred hits on youtube. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8q3g2NNfG7TBVRgYJGDbxgzE_fzELqwOkgZWt-M-jJZQHmPQiS1mbewYcR_wx-onpNNgC7yujH1Bs2QkXYAEOF0V4X4_pFXU3DIOEhUe4nsOYqk52WiAwSv5wLoIuf1SXLPxfKIIAJ9U/s1600/cheesy+nepali+movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8q3g2NNfG7TBVRgYJGDbxgzE_fzELqwOkgZWt-M-jJZQHmPQiS1mbewYcR_wx-onpNNgC7yujH1Bs2QkXYAEOF0V4X4_pFXU3DIOEhUe4nsOYqk52WiAwSv5wLoIuf1SXLPxfKIIAJ9U/s320/cheesy+nepali+movie.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like seriously ...</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">And well if you haven’t watched them already then do it today. That is all the entertainment these mainstream nepali movies has provided to us the educated lot for many years, after all. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Of course there were some remarkable movies made, like Kusume Rumal, Lahure, Darpan Chhaya that touched a million Nepali hearts, but that was a long , long time ago.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The good news however is that the face of Nepali cinema, may finally be changing. Starting from Kagbeni by Bhushan Dahal in 2008, a line of new age cinemas was released like Sano Sansar, First Love, Mero Euta Sathi Chha and several more that spoke to the modern crowd. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I heard “Acharya”- the movie was good too but never got around to watch it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkG40c8L1yu97bhPw5lREeVsaDVrqN7_hwq6EMqukAOHCBamSkm5wHiUqcIbI2lIECebFiYbhdCWLSd9QoBWRbhxd76jaOoSu9kjKB6fV5Cxfws489g61uMuLeO0S1vlzoM-xyPdGQ6yY/s1600/acharya_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkG40c8L1yu97bhPw5lREeVsaDVrqN7_hwq6EMqukAOHCBamSkm5wHiUqcIbI2lIECebFiYbhdCWLSd9QoBWRbhxd76jaOoSu9kjKB6fV5Cxfws489g61uMuLeO0S1vlzoM-xyPdGQ6yY/s320/acharya_02.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But I did watch Loot in its seventh week after its release and I was ashamed to have not watched it sooner. I mean, finally, a movie has come along our way that is everything we wished Nepali cinema would be. It is unpretentious, feels real, relatable and most of all it feels like it is very much a part of us.<br />
<br />
And if you don’t watch this movie, if its not to see a remarkable work by a fellow Nepali youth, to restore your faith in the beauty of authentic Nepali stories and to help a spectacular work of art like LOOT to garner more fans, praises and money in order to encourage young, talented movie-makers out there to be brave; do kindly revoke all your rights to ridicule a Nepali movie ever in the future.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We have embarrassed Nepali cinema, or is it Nepali cinema embarrassing us? for a time too long now and its time to step up and support a movie that is genuinely awesome. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Watch Loot For These… <o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">If you haven’t watched Loot by now or don’t know the plot of the story altogether let me attempt to give a quick rundown of what it is all about. And if you have watched it, do let me know if I am wrong or if I should add something to it. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Loot is a story revolving around the gruesome street life of Kathmandu. An ordinary Bhatti Chalaune man now popular as Haku Kale plots a plan to rob a bank with 5 young guys. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNzIbj8wuKWPV9b93jI8lGBmKBdiOMtOsku0_21Y3X8hltbInLphaybKxwh3cHBZWJAiMYIGbGyRzvwlGli2XlKktzyiqc9XDS-P9JtoZcbLkSU1CAQ3AwCpKVWZp0dFuC7pn3roWOWs/s1600/loot+movie+poster+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNzIbj8wuKWPV9b93jI8lGBmKBdiOMtOsku0_21Y3X8hltbInLphaybKxwh3cHBZWJAiMYIGbGyRzvwlGli2XlKktzyiqc9XDS-P9JtoZcbLkSU1CAQ3AwCpKVWZp0dFuC7pn3roWOWs/s400/loot+movie+poster+.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>And while, the ending of the story makes for quite an interesting event to watch, it is the journey to the climax that is just so undeniably good. My favorite feature of the movie is how the story of LOOT incorporates the day-to-day humor of life, making people genuinely laugh in between the thriller/action sequences. A relief from the otherwise annoying, wanna-be-funny- sound-induced comic scenes- the popular format used by many Nepali movies and television serials alike. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Loot is a conceived idea of the talented 31-year-old Director Nischal Basnet who told me that he came up with the idea of loot one ordinary night, out of the blue. He sat up writing the first draft of the movie from 10PM at night to 4AM. This was some one-and-a-half-years ago. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-pmqNub1czNVkwlOhwafdExBzDxfATD4S2XQ3HihwcYx2VR5LsGBnIzdtU9ozVwyxjysoJLXoku9sVTHYBwuF_610h8294wI2yf32kpwUQEFGbFXaZ2P1dht-Vg-r3dbewVtvNHhxUQ/s1600/nischal+basnet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-pmqNub1czNVkwlOhwafdExBzDxfATD4S2XQ3HihwcYx2VR5LsGBnIzdtU9ozVwyxjysoJLXoku9sVTHYBwuF_610h8294wI2yf32kpwUQEFGbFXaZ2P1dht-Vg-r3dbewVtvNHhxUQ/s320/nischal+basnet.jpg" width="221" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smile of Success- 31-years-old Nischal Basnet</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">He said, “I was reading up a lot of news on crime and violence in the streets of Kathmandu and that was my lead for the story.” I was stunned with the fact that a director so young achieved such a feat on his first attempt to make a mainstream movie, and like that was not enough, Nischal’s line of other talents soon turned me into not just a Loot fan but now a certified Nishchal Basnet fan. Nischal apart from being the script-writer and the director and the co-producer of the movie Loot, also lent his voice for the male vocals for the now super-hit song, Udhreko Choli.</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>And yes coming to the item-song, which is- lets admit perhaps a trend caught on from the Bollywood is funnily enough a very catchy tune. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ch6C84uPha6PgV_dcSeM8TEhsFu9k6iHhyjNrnbpnWU6VKPaxEletKu436IGIiS7EYhGmifbalYtLsZxof50WklbAUmS4ynNqyFBoQOhZb7_f73YmV_gUkNtVu7gjG2sxMcEYm_NiHY/s1600/udreko_choli_loot-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ch6C84uPha6PgV_dcSeM8TEhsFu9k6iHhyjNrnbpnWU6VKPaxEletKu436IGIiS7EYhGmifbalYtLsZxof50WklbAUmS4ynNqyFBoQOhZb7_f73YmV_gUkNtVu7gjG2sxMcEYm_NiHY/s320/udreko_choli_loot-3.jpg" width="290" /></a></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">The first time I heard it, I couldn’t stop humming it. I am not sure if the doll-faced actress Sushma Karki realistically potrayed the moves of a Kathmandu bar dancer or if she got confused and misconstrued vulgarity for sexy; I loved the song and loved her for being so bold in a society like ours. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>And like I said earlier, watch Loot and tell me if you wont feel like it could be an extension of our own lives here in Kathmandu. It is so honest, honest in story-telling, authenticity in dialogue deliveries and the roles executed by some of the finest actors of the new generation; Loot is every bit of a product that makes every Nepali proud. That is the potential of Nepali cinema and it is time to restore our faiths back to the once glorious stature of beautiful Nepali story-telling. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">If you’re interested in reaching the artistes and the director then I managed to find them on facebook and you should do too. You know, just to give them some kind words of encouragement to fuel their soul to produce more exceptional works in the future. And here they are.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Meet Nischal Basnet the co-producer, director, scrip-writer and singer</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTCmBozmb35LMB90dLJKGlc7-QHZqoWhgK0VZcXbwrseVeS5nwuWWe6iUxUkegFmpcU9wzr9oeHVhUWIgEwI1hBl8xvHxsB9w6bO40NLW7X7w6RbKFCZx82rsfVnHBnbOAhXh2XzHoz4/s1600/nischal+basnet+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTCmBozmb35LMB90dLJKGlc7-QHZqoWhgK0VZcXbwrseVeS5nwuWWe6iUxUkegFmpcU9wzr9oeHVhUWIgEwI1hBl8xvHxsB9w6bO40NLW7X7w6RbKFCZx82rsfVnHBnbOAhXh2XzHoz4/s320/nischal+basnet+1.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span></span><br />
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Daya Hang Rai whose natural flair for comic made people laugh their hearts out. He has already won himself the National Award for Best Supporting Actor for his role as Amar Lama in the movie Dashadhunga and plays the very funny Gopal Gurung in Loot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNK9E_ibtGzcEFGhwCt_lDgI88JftgTa2cSOlu5R-iZmtMx2a5_vti2c9bdeZeTF0wDVUVgwa5bxThyLcKvhM4KEcJdf-ignJqfrk0FzUlh-OOgIRKicfxqQjGYIyF0sW-6PQqg31tFiM/s320/Daya+hang+rai+.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000009064929" target="_blank">Daya Hang Rai </a></span></span></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Karma Shakya also my good friend whom I first met in the 10<sup>th</sup> grade when he was acting out big time in a school play. Talking about following your dreams, eh Karma <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;">:) </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91hC3PyYfWK7qDwyWIHTIPgk7ZRstMNFccAun2kmkLGSHkU_Z_PCyZmSGjql6WaItPlYzOhtoB0utgJq21FkzQ_tLCjsnGfKjB4XolVWpFJcN5Glym6nRT0Z0fxpBG3mgOOF-nChdKZ8/s1600/karma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91hC3PyYfWK7qDwyWIHTIPgk7ZRstMNFccAun2kmkLGSHkU_Z_PCyZmSGjql6WaItPlYzOhtoB0utgJq21FkzQ_tLCjsnGfKjB4XolVWpFJcN5Glym6nRT0Z0fxpBG3mgOOF-nChdKZ8/s320/karma.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/karma1amrak?ref=ts" target="_blank">Karma Shakya Fan Page</a></span></span></span></span></div></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">And of course, the pivotal character of Loot, Mr. Saugat Malla with his newari accent and superb acting. Those defined biceps haven’t gone unnoticed either. Saugat even has a facebook page called Haku Kale Jokes. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI1S_T1SVQJLezY9YQE2KW7SztGoFPURonrbNFUuoUGvsS0YpMeFcyAKef0JvXgPsh_2-JmakA3iMDHa5gU8xMeE5xiWbyfPea8p3O4Za7SEwxM544a9tVDpOIGvZyFbvkmtb-IxQZbY/s1600/saugat+malla+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI1S_T1SVQJLezY9YQE2KW7SztGoFPURonrbNFUuoUGvsS0YpMeFcyAKef0JvXgPsh_2-JmakA3iMDHa5gU8xMeE5xiWbyfPea8p3O4Za7SEwxM544a9tVDpOIGvZyFbvkmtb-IxQZbY/s320/saugat+malla+.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001844196246&ref=ts" target="_blank">Saugat Malla FB Profile</a></span></span></span></span></div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMTmqTM48D2EbnsqhFJpv1nng5FSBL_3gyZ7QTJJ0HyFQQ7OHCBRksBbHDx3mRmrGNe7ztMwrz79TrHUNj0afhiFMT4ec1DUKMpASwY86qcZwLuOysJNiu-zdniBhgHKiNx0fjAYMJLM/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-02-25+at+10.18.17+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="467" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMTmqTM48D2EbnsqhFJpv1nng5FSBL_3gyZ7QTJJ0HyFQQ7OHCBRksBbHDx3mRmrGNe7ztMwrz79TrHUNj0afhiFMT4ec1DUKMpASwY86qcZwLuOysJNiu-zdniBhgHKiNx0fjAYMJLM/s640/Screen+shot+2012-02-25+at+10.18.17+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/%E0%A4%B9%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%95%E0%A5%81-%E0%A4%95%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%B2%E0%A5%87-jokes-Saugat-Malla/172332196204362?ref=ts" target="_blank">Haku Kale Jokes Page</a></span></span></span></span></div></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The business prospects of this movie is covered in my article which is being published tomorrow in The Himalayan Times – Perspective Supplement. However, I collected some interesting facts when preparing that article and I had to share some of them in my blog. <br />
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<b>Fast Facts </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Loot was made with a budget of around 50 lakhs. It raked a total of 2 crore, 55 lakhs as of Friday morning, Febraury 24. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Rs. 13416670 that is 1 crore, 34 lakhs, 16 thousand, 670 rupees was collected in QFX cinemas alone. QFX cinemas started with the inception of Jai Nepal in 2001 and now runs its uber popular movie theatres from 3 locations in Kathmandu. But you know that by now already right? </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Also talking in the lines of QFX cinemas, QFX cinemas is not just another movie theatre but it has grown up to become sort of a youth culture for youngsters in Kathmandu. It set off the trend amongst the urban crowd to start watching Nepali movies again. It is also partnered with Digital Cinemas Nepal that help sponsor movies and promotes budding talented film makers in the country. For its invaluable contribution in creating a platform to mordern and refined Nepali cinema lets like their official page here:</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh8HFcjYCYMnj4wI3jPBpfQD6YCqA05qBZgaBiDvg137b8Rib9Xch6TcZLenQ03qK-IiBHxjgLAqDJWyzxWTbH2qoLZ3IftS_L2MOb4HksOfGu75dtheVKrdBrwou32VqW0G4rDjykvLk/s1600/qfxcivilmall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh8HFcjYCYMnj4wI3jPBpfQD6YCqA05qBZgaBiDvg137b8Rib9Xch6TcZLenQ03qK-IiBHxjgLAqDJWyzxWTbH2qoLZ3IftS_L2MOb4HksOfGu75dtheVKrdBrwou32VqW0G4rDjykvLk/s400/qfxcivilmall.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/QFX-Cinemas/161318347243749?ref=ts" target="_blank">QFX Fan Page</a></div></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"> </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>QFX had to take off Agneepath and another English movie to screen Loot because of its high demand. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>For many days in the first week of screening Loot, in many halls there was 100% occupancy by male audience only. Young guys who came to watch the movie in their bikes to be precise. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziWOJj1eJdnS3OGnKx809QGmkrjP49IaQ5xQvvdLqw39sfyd6JslTezsfZWfnVwWEJhwrfQvsLf250bpKrLwoghkX57a0GvXRF4ZXWISoMH_rtfl3HWPJY3i4Qtqz9-xwCNwvLlIMG3g/s1600/loot+parking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziWOJj1eJdnS3OGnKx809QGmkrjP49IaQ5xQvvdLqw39sfyd6JslTezsfZWfnVwWEJhwrfQvsLf250bpKrLwoghkX57a0GvXRF4ZXWISoMH_rtfl3HWPJY3i4Qtqz9-xwCNwvLlIMG3g/s320/loot+parking.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>The average fees for Nepali male actors come around a rough rupees 3- 5 lakhs, that might vary according to the current popularity of the actor. Rajesh Hamal, considered the first superstar of the Nepali cinema however, has been constant charging around 3 lakhs per movie. For female actors, it is still a struggle though with mainstream heroines quoting their fees starting from Rs.50,000 rupees which stretches up to 3 lakhs. That’s painfully less right? We can however help change it especially now when the face of Nepali cinema is gradually changing. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Saugat Malla, who started his career as a theatre actor leaped into mainstream working for Kagbeni in 2008 for Rs.40,000. His fees increased with each movie and now after Loot’s phenomenal success, a new movie “Chhadkey” is in talks to pay him 10 lakhs rupees for his role. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>I watched Loot: a 6 PM show all alone, after I was told to prepare a report on it. This is a completely unrelated story, I know,but I felt like mentioning it anyway. Me- a young girl's solo attendance in the hall with only a handful of attendance, raised quite an attention especially with guys who had come in groups, but I was so gripped on the movie, I could care less about them. Also never knew going to watch a movie alone is an awesome experience I think I am gonna try it again :)<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So there you go that is all I wanted to share in my blog today. Please feel free to give me your feedback : good, bad or ugly I promise to embrace it with arms wide open. Hope to promote many such talents and good news in the future too, wishing all big-dreaming Nepalis out there all my luck. This is a goodbye <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_CyDdAM6kLmuGAOrDqES17aXzB2ZgLvCEPgH2UpSxS77DC7HCEXHm245BNEwObyeY59YawLKJQ0Y4JbGFbi5Kf_V9sUStF5rr6HGaMupVxawjN2rgpHkdolMjXZKfwA1zJI9gm49EX6M/s1600/loot-review.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_CyDdAM6kLmuGAOrDqES17aXzB2ZgLvCEPgH2UpSxS77DC7HCEXHm245BNEwObyeY59YawLKJQ0Y4JbGFbi5Kf_V9sUStF5rr6HGaMupVxawjN2rgpHkdolMjXZKfwA1zJI9gm49EX6M/s400/loot-review.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"><br />
</span></div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-67361286490045544922012-02-16T08:40:00.000-08:002012-02-16T08:54:32.510-08:00TO HAVE OR NOT TO HAVE A VALENTINE...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYuc2yU1bBo2iZnm6hlRCf_QcvzeoTUS_5H3YOUW9cyBa77Dy3rGpP01OC0gaEt93R1hX7FwrNv-CXybiknJGv2CpTMX7KgwNVJhItqf2yKlXHriQCA60MZ5cHjo2rkNkjhcIaprQO7A/s1600/21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYuc2yU1bBo2iZnm6hlRCf_QcvzeoTUS_5H3YOUW9cyBa77Dy3rGpP01OC0gaEt93R1hX7FwrNv-CXybiknJGv2CpTMX7KgwNVJhItqf2yKlXHriQCA60MZ5cHjo2rkNkjhcIaprQO7A/s400/21.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“People in love are out dating and singles are updating” read one status in my facebook homepage that caught my eye and made me smile in agreement. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Oh the mighty Valentine’s day sure does bring about a wave of heavy emotions, doesn’t it? – couples enjoy a heightened love for each other and singles- lets be honest here- a lot of them if not all, ends up resenting the day for the sheer fact that they will have to be on the receiving end of mushy couples shoving their valentine’s celebrations all over their face. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I made my first Valentine’s card when I was 12 and gave it to my mother. Because that is all I knew about Valentine’s then – that it was a celebration of love and that we celebrate it with people we love. And god knows how my mom was the single most important person in my life then- of course she still is and forever will be.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So there we were, sitting in the familiar Nanglo Chinese room of Durbarmarg. We decided to wrap up our Valentine’s celebration with a quiet dinner and the place and the food seemed like it was tailored to our tastes. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And there they were; three couples lined up in three tables right in front of us. “Hey that girl is so smitten with the guy” I signaled with my eyes to a couple sitting in the middle of the 3 adjacent tables. “She hasn’t stopped smiling when talking to that guy”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I know” smiled my boyfriend. But at least, the girl seemed to have been enjoying her date. The two other couples, however, were a sad story to watch. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The guy takes out his cell phone and starts playing games and the girl – arms folded, fondles her hair, fidgets with her bag and is looking down, to the left, to the right and everywhere else but her boyfriend and a similar episode was going on in the other table too– only there, it was the girl who was toying away with her cell phone. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And I couldn’t help but wonder, why are these couples even together? – out on a day of love with clearly no- lets not say love, perhaps they do love each other, but clearly no passion for each other at all. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I recently read a line somewhere in the Internet that read, “ Unless it is mad, passionate, extraordinary love. It is a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life. LOVE shouldn’t be one.” And I couldn’t agree more. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilouyDEXZ3vvnzR9ovhkqkxJLsSM29Q2EyunyPRM4pmoxZzwG8bWjNSqeB2yg_Drsb07B49hCDmZnyrXyQq2am973M2LmlNEpz99-VTb3ca1hArh7y7OyE_ZpfWZJTiVa6eof3-c4GRE0/s1600/ExtraordinaryLove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilouyDEXZ3vvnzR9ovhkqkxJLsSM29Q2EyunyPRM4pmoxZzwG8bWjNSqeB2yg_Drsb07B49hCDmZnyrXyQq2am973M2LmlNEpz99-VTb3ca1hArh7y7OyE_ZpfWZJTiVa6eof3-c4GRE0/s320/ExtraordinaryLove.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">That, of course, doesn’t mean, that you give in to brazen public display affection everywhere you go to celebrate your passionate love. Of course not! Especially not in our country, Nepal police can actually have you jailed for it, you know. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But you should be comfortable in the presence of each other. Enjoy each other’s company, have fun conversations, be able to share your deepest secrets and stories, make each other feel loved and be each other’s best friend – because if you don’t have these, then why are you even hanging out with the person? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> But who am I to speak for anyone? Sometimes, a relationship between a couple has so much more going on than the outside eyes can see. The most perfect seeming relationship may be marred in reality, the most odd looking relationships may be the most smooth sailing. Every relationship has their own unique nature and its useless – I am especially trying to put this into the heads of GIRLS- that its pointless to compare your relationship with another one, because every couple-dynamics is different from the other and has their own strengths and weaknesses. And as long as the dynamics is working well for the two people involved in a relationship, we should safely keep our butts out of their business, right?</div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">That said, though, I believe, I strongly do, that most broken relationships still sail a long haul of togetherness simply because people are most times than not, too scared to get out of their comfort zone. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Like the girl who is treated badly, verbally and physically abused by her boyfriend and yet she sticks on to him. Does’nt she know that the relationship is bad for her? Sure she does. But it takes one crocodile tear from the guy asking for a fake forgiveness and she happily gives it to him only for the episode to occur again and again. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And there are those couples who start off on great note but with time outgrow each other. They’re constantly quarrelling, making nasty remarks to each other or in some cases just completely stop talking to each other because they have nothing left to talk about anymore – but , they stick on, they’re still together. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You know, whoever said that “the real life starts outside our comfort zone” said it precisely right. I did mention that one must be comfortable with their partners above all, for a beautiful relationship to flourish. But being too comfortable could be dangerous too. Because people caught up in a rut of a relationship, do exactly that. They’re so comfortable in their bubble - no matter how hideous it may be, that they continue to hang to the last ruins of their failed relationships. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And I think that is what those couples I saw there at the restaurant were doing too. It didn’t look like they were on their first dates- going by the curiosity-lacking, conversation less, boring evening they spent – it would, bode well for the both of them to make that date their last one though. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Because everybody deserves a shot at a happy, fulfilling relationship. And the universe will do everything to bring them exactly that too; all they have to do is give themselves a chance. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But that is the thing about love- two lives cannot move on smoothly simply on the basis of love, they have to like each other too. Because if you love your partner but cannot bring yourself to like them like you once used to- that’s a sign that its time to let go.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> When things aren’t working, be brave to accept that it is indeed not working. Acknowledge the fact that many people outgrow their partners and you did too. And there is no need to feel guilty to end something that wasn’t making you happy. Know in your heart that you, along with every last human being in this planet, is meant to have a happy relationship- and if you do not find happiness in your partnership, trust that you will find it somewhere else. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Because you know what they say, “Its better to be single and happy than be in a relationship and be unhappy.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Its nice to be in love, its more important to be in love with the right person. And until you find your right match, there is one person in this universe that deserves your complete and unwavering pampering, attention and love- and that’s you. Work to become one emotionally happy, healthy and a whole individual to attract a healthy relationship because it’s the rule of the universe to send you exactly the kind of person you are. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Lucky are those who find their perfect fit on the first go but having failed relationships isn’t a bad thing either. If you just take notice, each relationship will have something to teach you; hearts you love will break you and go to help you become stronger, cheating souls leave you shattered but teach you to outgrow your gullible nature. You fight, you cry, you assert, you decide and you eventually stand up for yourself , you become your own hero, you rescue yourself- that is what failed relationships do to you , it makes you wise, it make you better. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">And its always good manners, to bid people with a proper good bye, especially those people who have once been so close to you. While you may not quite bring yourself to be their best friends, there is no harm in continuing to be kind to each other, as opposed to those broken up couples who choose to become each other’s arch enemy for life. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IiCOrwYHKGMVpzFOjYCgPN2iJ2PqBDfwesQ2_Yof910QCOEL1PxvAv-SxgpxKhGYqxg0UcNTnEw7mnQNZFEoQ0TIZYTKaXi7-RtGs78vbibNAeFy7cza5lGFeJu1RnUqv7FSYD_6lTA/s1600/gandhi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IiCOrwYHKGMVpzFOjYCgPN2iJ2PqBDfwesQ2_Yof910QCOEL1PxvAv-SxgpxKhGYqxg0UcNTnEw7mnQNZFEoQ0TIZYTKaXi7-RtGs78vbibNAeFy7cza5lGFeJu1RnUqv7FSYD_6lTA/s320/gandhi.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Personally, I see relationships as something that will help me grow as an individual and bring out the best in me. Relationship should teach me how to selflessly love another person and make me happy, and him too.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I don’t know why I’m penning down all this when really, I just came to my blog today to update my pictures of how I celebrated my Valentine’s day. But oh well, it had been quite sometime since I last poured out my heart like this and so I am allowing it to set free. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Also, I guess, the sad two couples in front of me that day prompted me to put up this blog, imagining how many couples out there celebrated Valentine’s day merely because they didn’t want to be lonely. </div><div class="MsoNormal">The anti-valentine’s movement and statuses like “thankyou valentine’s day for reminding me that I am single” in facebook, may have further motivated me to write whatever I am writing. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And I am glad I did. As I mentioned it earlier I want people to understand that, “ To be in love or not to be in love is not important. What is important is to find the right person to be in love with.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">And as long as it takes time to find that person, learn to be your own valentine. Come on, you owe it to yourself!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As for what I did for my Valentine's day here is an awesome tip that I want to share. I wanted to make a heart shaped chocolate cake from scratch for my boyfriend but sadly didnt find any heart-shaped baking tray anywhere so this is what I did. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-xXCdiwYDmscRYt0RvjVWaa7r8VcruijqyeJcqRRQbBp6tiiniPGuEp0HQejUPDPBV0OWiwAc7SImBuLqdMRL-Jh-mAFkgW80b8_H8Ah66VJ2EmDbpaa3T4kTlEEV4g5xzvqzjldTtrE/s1600/IMG_0025_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-xXCdiwYDmscRYt0RvjVWaa7r8VcruijqyeJcqRRQbBp6tiiniPGuEp0HQejUPDPBV0OWiwAc7SImBuLqdMRL-Jh-mAFkgW80b8_H8Ah66VJ2EmDbpaa3T4kTlEEV4g5xzvqzjldTtrE/s320/IMG_0025_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I baked two cakes : one round shaped and the other a square one</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDl0eggFhwrekqa1O68CmRuI6TWBIOdMpfZ1djvOB2e3dI3QGdMGcO1y_PUF3MKGzzPqZ_bNx1wFHf6g5MRAMc3J8pb-xPbKZ6YpQp-nuQloAgWJTcwvf9cyHwxktngUVc6bk2Ya1UGE/s1600/e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDl0eggFhwrekqa1O68CmRuI6TWBIOdMpfZ1djvOB2e3dI3QGdMGcO1y_PUF3MKGzzPqZ_bNx1wFHf6g5MRAMc3J8pb-xPbKZ6YpQp-nuQloAgWJTcwvf9cyHwxktngUVc6bk2Ya1UGE/s320/e.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then I cut the round cake in half and started attaching the either halves onto the square one to make a heart shape</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg994RlO4-ffWA-ANqSi0yEknRE8AYaTdXLV8wf34vfASHQGLPo9sRVu5VXu8oMCEDj2FTtzl1s4Ihx5S0eSyoIXA66R3KFsw7Vuy8Cky4OfcQ0saw3UcxUGNWOcpLJ_1x_z0C8WR0wREk/s1600/d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg994RlO4-ffWA-ANqSi0yEknRE8AYaTdXLV8wf34vfASHQGLPo9sRVu5VXu8oMCEDj2FTtzl1s4Ihx5S0eSyoIXA66R3KFsw7Vuy8Cky4OfcQ0saw3UcxUGNWOcpLJ_1x_z0C8WR0wREk/s320/d.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I also sliced the cakes to spread the chocolate frosting. At this point your cake kinda starts looking like a goat's head :P </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ2vfbnX3TKnLkcAlU3nztFK_QWe_cAaElVWe12RKeI60Bs216KXB22ClU8dCyubeM3jknJsyB6rP2jJ8Q0pAVmDGZZEPuvrcY7_990PubFOhY4G9cbNL0wi2WGyXeA9n8tH4MOwec-CM/s1600/c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ2vfbnX3TKnLkcAlU3nztFK_QWe_cAaElVWe12RKeI60Bs216KXB22ClU8dCyubeM3jknJsyB6rP2jJ8Q0pAVmDGZZEPuvrcY7_990PubFOhY4G9cbNL0wi2WGyXeA9n8tH4MOwec-CM/s320/c.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then you add the final slice and voila you have yourself a heart-shaped cake. Also you have to trim the extra sides to make it perfect. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then you slather the rest of the frosting all over your cake</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcrbvZ0dIFSZa-3f9u8mLA46Wexz9QRSHMVUWukEXXxwkHXIfssHpxPNgqymwPGkNwn4Wus8Vz-LI_5JWk-4ijreyUCZ6cR8SdJhmFHvH64KcmBl6C2-0gfHyAmXu0qqBw132Stwnho38/s1600/a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcrbvZ0dIFSZa-3f9u8mLA46Wexz9QRSHMVUWukEXXxwkHXIfssHpxPNgqymwPGkNwn4Wus8Vz-LI_5JWk-4ijreyUCZ6cR8SdJhmFHvH64KcmBl6C2-0gfHyAmXu0qqBw132Stwnho38/s320/a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And finally write a sweet valentine's message and give it to your special person <3 You can also use this technique for other special occasions such as birthdays or anniversaries. You will have plenty of recipes out there in the internet so go bake a cake for your loved one and have fun. </td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"><a name='more'></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">Well finally, I hope you all had a wonderful Feb 14<sup>th </sup>too. Wishing you all a life full of joy, love and happiness, this is a goodbye. I will see you in my next blog update. Thankyou for reading <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span></span></span></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-28451200226733236682012-01-26T05:03:00.000-08:002012-01-26T21:18:58.971-08:00My Miss Tourism Tell-All-Tales (Part I)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><b>Special Mentions </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">Before sharing any of my experiences at the Miss Tourism pageant, let me clear some of the doubts that have been going around regarding my costumes at the pageant. NO, the Chinese organizer gave none of the dresses, which I wore there. I have been hearing a lot of assumptions claiming that they were probably handed out to me there, just because they looked good. Isn’t it awesome that all of them were actually created right here by Nepali designers? Yes, that is how genius Nepali minds are. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Also, at a time when I was funding everything at my own effort, from shoes, makeup, wardrobe, air tickets, visa fares- yah just about everything! These people volunteered to help me out in their own special ways and I cant think of thanking them in any better way (wish I could) than mentioning them in my blog. So here they are:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUM9CJWdxvF9HLGSwKy2enmcVrfFgFqxD0_bpjaNCAKROgNxafgmvRVr_gFFHbcPwgHXQuTeXwcov-gponJ1PlY7v21aoOokR4HPfOAt0-0k7kVJJuK99Ahdymz5l1VcjW7QvWFTKb5Cs/s1600/IMG_0280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUM9CJWdxvF9HLGSwKy2enmcVrfFgFqxD0_bpjaNCAKROgNxafgmvRVr_gFFHbcPwgHXQuTeXwcov-gponJ1PlY7v21aoOokR4HPfOAt0-0k7kVJJuK99Ahdymz5l1VcjW7QvWFTKb5Cs/s640/IMG_0280.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black gown with embellished borders by Oodni- Designer SWORNIM RAI </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU0K4BtFMDwztX_0MemZaAyjNduyHAFxR2sdY3zRPrXtWfPUyP01nLDGQmerzWQjQLhpvyvzapVFu_xETiDTjfoZERKzqoLuVae22CIeHUrfYn8gmHdgM-1R2PCyc13OZ6bVL4ssOQyT8/s1600/WIL_7658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU0K4BtFMDwztX_0MemZaAyjNduyHAFxR2sdY3zRPrXtWfPUyP01nLDGQmerzWQjQLhpvyvzapVFu_xETiDTjfoZERKzqoLuVae22CIeHUrfYn8gmHdgM-1R2PCyc13OZ6bVL4ssOQyT8/s640/WIL_7658.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oriental inspired orange gown by Oodni- Designer Swornim Rai </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrTzkG6BgXyIitQ6Ajaxh5fHSBcH2gBAlbwKh-3LtjviAgsFGV76HtKKgi5bjFbpHkg7n7Y0PRuM30bk7ODtWyNJ60x6zB3keryH7q-8XKECJI9RPO8V66_7PFpqu_J1QsrYQogYh2eks/s1600/WIL_1847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrTzkG6BgXyIitQ6Ajaxh5fHSBcH2gBAlbwKh-3LtjviAgsFGV76HtKKgi5bjFbpHkg7n7Y0PRuM30bk7ODtWyNJ60x6zB3keryH7q-8XKECJI9RPO8V66_7PFpqu_J1QsrYQogYh2eks/s640/WIL_1847.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dhaka Gown during the national costume parade conceptualized and designed by ABHAYA SUBBA :) yes the Rock Goddess has a designer in her, also worn by her in her music video. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqKElBxoxi8etg-HAPt_GAQtFvvjjGN46kUHwQQ-3vASf2dgGRy2In3GbtmVqMykhWPh6RKoG3NIFU3Sw1nIcxbHsqdmUggqoqLX5A0-rbmseFwDtVT-s84pRgYBX5dFEgoAD4-UTQ2c/s1600/IMG_0191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqKElBxoxi8etg-HAPt_GAQtFvvjjGN46kUHwQQ-3vASf2dgGRy2In3GbtmVqMykhWPh6RKoG3NIFU3Sw1nIcxbHsqdmUggqoqLX5A0-rbmseFwDtVT-s84pRgYBX5dFEgoAD4-UTQ2c/s640/IMG_0191.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cocktail dress by HAA: Thankyou MALVIKA DIDI AND MANISH PANDIT :) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSQ86jt_GEby10neCKOAfSBrWcvkZxfgsaaP3KSio2RZL7JLZ5LDjaYgRfY_-Kqa5YU4iKL7QjVmp7zSl3nDuBQ4-j4dadIgxKqtDhOw3VL9TDkYVbVSY9xQyNDL0GFYIpRvGf9iIYlA/s1600/IMG_0099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSQ86jt_GEby10neCKOAfSBrWcvkZxfgsaaP3KSio2RZL7JLZ5LDjaYgRfY_-Kqa5YU4iKL7QjVmp7zSl3nDuBQ4-j4dadIgxKqtDhOw3VL9TDkYVbVSY9xQyNDL0GFYIpRvGf9iIYlA/s640/IMG_0099.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wish I had a professional shot of me wearing the gown. Nevertheless , here it is evening gown by HAA again</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZfw0i7DQ9IJLi9ekySD4KwpJsZ1ui3FeZtnYAzWW2faK2DafeTtacLhCR6fr6facQerR7JLXEBtWeDhJjfap-UiiszswKpyXmxqD-X-WgtzDEMOcESMHkMVhHt0eRxGPhT0Z0y0q3_s/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZfw0i7DQ9IJLi9ekySD4KwpJsZ1ui3FeZtnYAzWW2faK2DafeTtacLhCR6fr6facQerR7JLXEBtWeDhJjfap-UiiszswKpyXmxqD-X-WgtzDEMOcESMHkMVhHt0eRxGPhT0Z0y0q3_s/s640/1.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evening gown by Nilima Maden :) thankyou Nilima for the support!</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Thank You </b></div><div class="MsoNormal">And oh my god! There are just about a million people out there who I have to thank, all those who came to my two fund raising concerts, my ever supporting entourage of family, friends, brothers from another mother and sisters from another mister ;) who have been with me in my journey, advising, supporting, loving me all along, those kind hearts who actually did donate money that was of so much help and a million good luck wishes that poured in via my Facebook and into my system; I was and still am honestly overwhelmed by it all. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And now more than ever, I am a firm believer of the saying that goes, “ If you want to accomplish something even though it may look unattainable, just hope and try; its only a matter of time that the doors of opportunities will open for you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>NEPAL. It’s a beautiful word.</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">Not trying to sound all patriotic-y or anything but seriously, I believe that Nepal and Nepalis are all so close-knit. Hard to believe, especially with all the bandhs, hartals, fights among political parties at its all time high right? But somehow, when someone stands up to represent our country, we support them like crazy, don’t we? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Like Anuradha Koirala when she was contesting for CNN Hero or that time when Nepalis in India went to watch the SAF semi finals where Nepal played against Afghanistan with the entire stadium echoing of chants shouting “Nepal Nepal”… it still gives me the chills when I think about the power those chants exuded when I was hearing them all in my TV at home. Nepal. It indeed is a beautiful word to hear. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Bars, pubs, restaurants were jam-packed that day in support of Nepal, so what if they lost the game? Sure we were sad, but regardless, in the know that we will continue to support them in future with equal and perhaps more gusto. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And the tables turned when I went to battle in the Miss Tourism Queen pageant representing Nepal. It was an incredible experience for once, to be on the receiving end of the awesome “Nepali for Nepalis” spirit. More than ten thousands paid votes (paid in dollars, mind you!) came in for Nepal, for ME, in my contest website; notifying and perhaps alerting organizers of my pageant that indeed a lot of people were closely following me in my quest. I felt the love and with it grew a sense of responsibility in me, that I had to stand out in my contest and not just be a mere filler. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Why pageants are a good bet for Nepal</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">You know much like a football player, who needs the right kind of shoes, socks; the right gear and enough training sessions to give a good performance in games, the same is quite applicable in beauty contests too. It is much like a sport you know, yes, indeed a glamorous one at that. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">However in beauty contests the right gears include the right make up accessories, super high heel shoes, beautiful dresses and gowns and many training sessions to walk and talk the right way. And yes, it can be expensive. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">If even a little fund is supported to girls representing Nepal in international contests much like any other sportsperson is supported, I have a strong feeling we will be bringing home crowns and titles in days to come. Because in the end, isn’t anyone who is sent from home to compete in any global contests, representing Nepal? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When I was called out to receive the title crown for Miss Personality on the stage that day, in front of thousands of audience in attendance and thousands more watching it live all over China and the world, it wasn’t Samriddhi Rai receiving it, it was Nepal being given a prize. And oh it felt special, so special to receive an honor on behalf of my country. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGT2o51cA_1GzVkYWuaSQHVVMwnpOeMIf6UNZUEL_AG6Oqag07kWBooh4cd92krI7w0AptaxpURPdpYj2yTydGyz8lKOT3HbAYjettFxfdr2MUQ4Dsx7duwKShD9Phb74DhRHpBDgu3s/s1600/sam2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGT2o51cA_1GzVkYWuaSQHVVMwnpOeMIf6UNZUEL_AG6Oqag07kWBooh4cd92krI7w0AptaxpURPdpYj2yTydGyz8lKOT3HbAYjettFxfdr2MUQ4Dsx7duwKShD9Phb74DhRHpBDgu3s/s640/sam2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I hope organizations, related affiliations; especially the tourism board and even our government recognize international beauty contests (the grandslam ones), as a good platform to put Nepal in the map. If a girl shines in the international platform, it’s Nepal who shines along with her. And Nepali girls are every bit capable of shining; I have no doubts about that. From what I saw, and no sugarcoated sentiment here, that Nepali girls are waaaaayyyyyy smarter than most girls that come for the contest. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8XlcVt9iVv00qR3inHIXSlMQ75tpHvkZvFkQd8lZt22qFxXLc4PWrwulMTxnJ6Rqy-LrClelkp9Ff0QmGznGcAFto6c-tNqvoYo6y30GyjZAafapRWAnrd2P0-w6zZnZlvEIYpVrs3w/s1600/ayusha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8XlcVt9iVv00qR3inHIXSlMQ75tpHvkZvFkQd8lZt22qFxXLc4PWrwulMTxnJ6Rqy-LrClelkp9Ff0QmGznGcAFto6c-tNqvoYo6y30GyjZAafapRWAnrd2P0-w6zZnZlvEIYpVrs3w/s320/ayusha.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ayusha Shrestha, who represnted Nepal at the Miss World University pageant in 2003 won the whole damn contest making Nepal so proud and happy. We should have gotten a hint then, that Nepali girls have the potential to make it huge in international contests after all :) </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">For starters, we speak English more fluently than 95% of girls who participate and that in self is a huge bonus because that instantly increases our chances to interact with the judges better. We’re confident and carry with us the love and huge support from Nepalis back home And we have a huge circle of really really talented designers who can help our girls stand out. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I see it, with a little bit of grooming and a little bit of help, Nepal can really nail international beauty pageants. I brought back home only a title and yet was welcomed with so much love. In fact, hurts me a little sometimes to think that I couldn’t achieve more. So in my next part of this blog, which will be published in a few days, will be an account of my experience and how Nepali girls can stand out in international pageants and bring home big titles. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>The Money Struggle, The Mean People!</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"> For some reasons though, I happen to love my struggles. I believe it has made me tough and although it breaks me down from time to time, it has unfailingly pushed me to bring out the best in me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">So let me give you a quick idea of struggles I had to face during my run as the Miss Tourism queen of Nepal and although I did enjoy hurdling over it all, I strongly feel that its unfair for any future participants to go through what I had to. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">The reason I took up the challenge to be the Miss Tourism was because I always wanted to represent Nepal somehow. It was a long cherished dream as a kid. Well, I always assumed I’d get an opportunity to do that through sports, particularly as a part of the national basketball squad, but fate had me pulling into beauty contests and I wasn’t complaining. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Group of Event Entertainers, the franchise holders in Nepal for Miss Tourism pageant, were clear from the beginning that if I chose to go for the contest, I would have to take care of all my funds, from tickets to clothes- EVERYTHING.And freshly out of my Miss Nepal 2010 ordeal, where I had to end my journey only as the top 5, I geared up for the challenge.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">I thought, “this is for Nepal, anybody would help me out here”. And with the disillusioned hope I set out to meet some “corporate” houses only to be slammed with shut doors in my face. And then, it hit me, maybe I should put up a concert where I sing and collect funds from the audience. It was a very vague idea. In fact when I told this to a very close friend of mine for the first time, I made it sound like a random silly joke. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">But well, she took it very seriously and told me that in fact was a bright idea and that is when I decided to go ahead with it. All my friends were there in attendance in Attic lounge that day and it was a pretty okay gathering for a Thursday night. Let me take this opportunity to thank my very lovely former colleague and a sister, Shweta didi and Prajeet dai for donating Rs.10,000 in efforts to help me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">And more funds came rolling in as I went ahead with my second fund raising concert, with all the lovely girls in Kathmandu, I knew who could sing, fiercely helping me out. There was hardly any place to even stand for people who had come to see the show, telling me that people really wanted to see what I was upto if not support it all at first. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDfWjynw8e4cwV4OkLthnK8egmJnHVSopNnxXgCuM1RkMqMtK25FP2kSCNWcpwmFuj2y_MlQbp30IwoNZz7p23_AvixyFVmcpjpq0oa4CdvCtVQzKqJoMoiV5mlsWE3iCLOzFSeJH2aV8/s1600/concert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDfWjynw8e4cwV4OkLthnK8egmJnHVSopNnxXgCuM1RkMqMtK25FP2kSCNWcpwmFuj2y_MlQbp30IwoNZz7p23_AvixyFVmcpjpq0oa4CdvCtVQzKqJoMoiV5mlsWE3iCLOzFSeJH2aV8/s400/concert.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Then came a sweet girl who goes by the name Anita, whom I barely knew, with a popping mail in my facebook that she could help me find a sponsor. And with only a few exchanges of mails, she made it possible. This generous man from India, sent me a good 2000 dollars as part of a support. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">The money along with all that I raised here with my concerts, made it possible for my friend, a brother and a trainer, Sakil, to make a trip to Bangkok to get all the basics of what I would need for my pageant. You know that white gown I wore for my finals which is, call me arrogant but it’s a fact, one of the best gowns any Nepali contestant has ever worn in an international pageant. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk96cKb8xAlExJ3utDiJVxTZHpgHbqEKY54EtHtYOW5JZPxjDbFPGSOlfKfAvYiAdu3u_68HHAt61HDK-9D1jFttL7_FoLGT8vFAp74c8NIMqQKVP9NceWufkcJ0wT5WSu3nQUujZ53Q0/s1600/WIL_3630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk96cKb8xAlExJ3utDiJVxTZHpgHbqEKY54EtHtYOW5JZPxjDbFPGSOlfKfAvYiAdu3u_68HHAt61HDK-9D1jFttL7_FoLGT8vFAp74c8NIMqQKVP9NceWufkcJ0wT5WSu3nQUujZ53Q0/s1600/WIL_3630.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuroOtBhnaG4KM4pAQkDCLLiN58Vl0vxeRtVeo5o0ahpcFayNuvus3nChWxJ87zm89uxOIB4j6eJ2Y5hBaC3gI7S0l-ZoFlSkc0dzK4uImlLmZYcQxrZG6kCW5aDi93-JLOz2n58eGmV4/s1600/WIL_6831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuroOtBhnaG4KM4pAQkDCLLiN58Vl0vxeRtVeo5o0ahpcFayNuvus3nChWxJ87zm89uxOIB4j6eJ2Y5hBaC3gI7S0l-ZoFlSkc0dzK4uImlLmZYcQxrZG6kCW5aDi93-JLOz2n58eGmV4/s640/WIL_6831.JPG" width="425" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">It was Sakil’s concept and he had it tailored it in Thailand and brought back several super high heels (over six inches) a fundamental necessity for Nepali girls. Along with it, the accessories I would need, a few other gowns and dresses, make up brushes and oh so many things, yes Beauty Contests are really expensive. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">And I was at least glad that I had the funds to give a good stand out performance at the pageant, and it was all made possible with my own efforts. Let me also take this opportunity to thank my late uncle who gave me his blessings with a Rs.10000 support. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Oh! There was no backing out now. I had the love, the attention of hundreds people now and a good fund to represent Nepal in a good light. And then, the downfall sort of came in slowing my pace and at one point killing all the fire I had in me, when my pageant kept postponing. Slated to happen in November of 2010, it postponed four times before it finally happened in December of 2011. So you can probably imagine, how it sapped my energy to bits. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">And some really mean rumors, that went around saying Samriddhi should ask money to her parents and quit making a beggar out of herself and that Samriddhi collected the entire fund to actually buy herself a car. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Wow! People can be real nasty. The kind of people who are in the forefront to tell you everything you did wrong and make you believe how incapable you are. Because obviously they have have nothing better to do with their lives and their only purpose in life is to stop anybody who is trying to accomplish something. So really, I have only but pity for people who were mean behind my back, it’s sad to know that hurting people’s image is all the thrill they get in their lives. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
As long as maligning me made them happy, I guess I am happy for them too!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"> <span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;">I would also like to take this opportunity here to thank Yogita Pun and Arun Thapa, two complete strangers, who helped me get the free two-way tickets to China and back at the last moment. I would be paying a good Rs. 80000 if it weren’t for them. So Thank you so much.</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Wingdings;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>How I changed my luck </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Finally, I would like to share that if it weren’t for my defeat from the top 5 of Miss Nepal that day, I wouldn’t have written the note that I wrote catapulting me into the world of media as a writer (Published below). The note became one of my most popular pieces with the highest feedback I have ever gotten for any of my articles, giving me a breakthrough as a columnist and later an Editor of a youth magazine. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">If it weren’t for my “fundless” journey to my contest, I wouldn’t have made the effort to arrange the concert and would have never discovered the singer in me. I wouldn’t have multiplied my social circle and I would know nothing about event management or learn ways to develop my PR skills. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">You see, I know I am not the perfect writer, have a long way to go to become a polished singer too. But I know I will get there someday. That day in Miss Nepal was an end of a journey, sure, but as I see it now, it was really the beginning of an amazing adventure for me.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">And I cant help but believe that if failures mean opportunities to discover the best in you, then hell! I want more failures in my life. Because failures only mean that I am out there, doing something with my life, right? The concept, that is true for everybody. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Life will find ways to beat you. Just don’t beat yourself up. Give yourself a chance. Because I know I did and I am at least happy that I never really gave up on myself. And never ever will. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Part II of the My Tourism Tell All Tale will carry my experience at the Miss Tourism and how its time that Miss Nepal pageant step up their game. <o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Published below is the note I wrote after my Miss Nepal experience, which was also published in Republica and till date remains one of my most reviewed pieces. Now that I read it again, I feel happy that I stood up to all the expectations of the 2010 version of me :)</b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> <o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #262626;">Miss Nepal 2010 – The Odyssey <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">Greetings, my lovely people :) <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">And first off, thanks for the generous support you have been providing before and after the pageant, truly feel blessed and very loved. And that’s a priceless feeling to have thanks a lot. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">That said, Yes, I am heartbroken. Like a very good Facebook friend I met last night told me, "You'd be a superhuman if you were not feeling bad." and I totally agree. But yes I may be heartbroken but am not disheartened…not at all. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">It would be a lie, really, if I told you guys that I hadn’t been dreading to come back to FB. But it’s also true that I only just got home. My cell phone went dead and my friend mistakenly took my charger for both my laptop and my cell away. Phew… had to give that explanation after so much of where are you? And how’re you doing? messages kept pouring in hehe<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">But I felt your love, I really did and that’s an achievement on its own. I believe there is nothing sweeter or more fulfilling as a human being than to feel loved and supported. Ahem.. And after that very beauty pageantish statement let me move forward with the things I want to say :)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">Well, to begin with I had no plans to participate in Miss Nepal this year if I did I wouldn't have cut off my hair, please! :) Fate in the name of WORLD CUP 2010 brought Miss Nepal into my life. My constant visit to Moksh for the world cup games made me cross paths with the Diva, the mother of all Miss Nepals herself, Ms. Rachana Gurung Sharma. Every time I greeted her during the games, she never failed to enquire if I had filled up the form for the contest. And with the immense support from my peers (*and BTW and FYI when I say my peers please don't assume them to be girls my age lol they're rather all successful media personalities and professionals from many fields, yes they're my peers… who lovingly call me "fuchhie" because obviously I am always the youngest in their gang". <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">And there were you, my overwhelmingly supporting FB pals that gave me that much needed boost of enthusiasm to not just participate in Miss Nepal but to win it all. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">Unfortunately for me, fate, god and the judges seem to have different plans for me. I thought, I had given it all I got, gave the performance of my life thought I couldn't have possibly done any better … but now I realize, even when I think that I was at my best I was still not good enough. I strongly believe in the saying, "when you give it your 100% even god cant stop you from succeeding" and well, the results of last night has only made me believe that what I label as my 100% was probably a tad too less. That it was an understatement for the capability god has gifted me that go beyond measures. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmetj22iY34n88UvAq6NhnuB80FO8P0ZyPygd2aOZVft167A7pMun6T7p2tMaSyBUTpbN5DM97a0g3tGOFVPut9Fq2EcC6G4kwchf628RyOExrtmy201VBJSn-6_cLjNsTfhQwmMQ4XAI/s1600/miss+nepal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmetj22iY34n88UvAq6NhnuB80FO8P0ZyPygd2aOZVft167A7pMun6T7p2tMaSyBUTpbN5DM97a0g3tGOFVPut9Fq2EcC6G4kwchf628RyOExrtmy201VBJSn-6_cLjNsTfhQwmMQ4XAI/s1600/miss+nepal.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Nepal top 5 2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">If any one were to ask me, "what is it that I like about myself the most?" Not pausing for a moment, I would mention and my FB pal Alok would agree here when I say that it’s my "sunny disposition". The funny girl the cheerful girl the happy girl are terminologies I got for being all of that. And spreading joys is one of the reasons why god put me down here on earth :) <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">That said, again, I would like to go back to the moments after the pageant. I was disappointed, was very sad… drowned my self into despair for not having fulfilled an achievement I wanted so badly. And most of all, I felt the worst when I came to a realization that the bigger loss was not mine but of those who were rooting for me. I let them all down, I thought. But as soon as I got back to being me, yes the sunny sunny girl … I helped myself to get back up. Because after all, to have tried and fail is not a failure. My biggest failure would have been to not try at all. And I’m glad that I didn't shed a tear. And had I shed, for what? For the whale of a time I had on stage looking pretty and standing tall and confident? I don't think so. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">Yes it wasn't the most awesomest of experience to get there to win it all and not having won even a title … lol … but it was an experience, an enriching and an empowering one at that. People many a times assume that it's the contestants that are competing against each other, when the competition was really against ourselves. Fighting off our nervousness, to work under the pressure of having a million eyes judge you from head to toe, to be level headed when answering questions at a time when your heart is beating the fastest you've ever known… and most of all, to look beautiful, smile always, be elegant, poised and pretty- the innate essence of a beauty pageant. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">As for me, during the whole of the pageant starting from my intro till the end all I tried to be was not to try to be somebody else. When I can be the first rate version of myself why try and be the second rate version of someone else right? :) So yes, now that I recollect my moments on the stage, perhaps maybe I was just too real.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">Right now however, as I write this little note, I feel at peace. I have no regrets and I am not sad. For experiences both failures and successes indicate that I am reaching out to the world to live a full fledged life and that I have more successes and failures out there waiting for me to be embraced. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">Through this note, I would also like to thank all those who constantly advised, helped and supported me through out this competition. You know who you are :)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">When I reached the After-party, people were quite surprised to see me there. They had assumed that I wouldn't show up since half of the contestants who didn't make it to top 10 had chosen not to come. But I love to surprise people. Yes, I was but obviously not as enthusiastic about the party as the winners or the titleholders were duh! But nevertheless I am a fighter have always been will always be. In my 23 years of existence I have a carved out this spirit in me that is hard for anyone to defeat. And if I were the winner I would've gracefully accepted my victory and last night I learnt to accept my loss with equal grace too. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">But am glad I attended the after party because it was there I felt that even though there wasn't a crown on my head to determine me as the winner, there were people there who'd witnessed the show of whose hearts that I had won. People from embassies to the organizers complimenting me on giving an outstanding performance made me feel like a winner. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">And finally wrapping up my now, not-so-little-note, I was most complimented on the way I looked and carried myself last night. For which, I take no credit for and give it all to a special 18 year old boy who goes by the name Sakil Kunwar. He is one of the most talented young people I have ever come across, is an emerging make up artist and envisions to bring a revolution in Nepali beauty pageants. The fact that he trained me for the past several days and invented my looks for the finale, I believe was a true blessing for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #262626;">That said, my life has come back to normal now. No trainings, no giggling with the girls, no scolding from sakil for walking wrong, no looking forward for to an international pageant *sigh* I really don't know where my life is headed for now but all I know that it is headed towards somewhere exciting, somewhere fulfilling, somewhere adventurous like it has always been. People often tell me that I seem to have an eventful life always… but let me tell you that my life is an eventful one, not because I got it by default but because I make sure to make it one. With the super zealous soul that I have grown myself with me, I can assure you that what ever that I may do, where ever I may go, wherever I will be I will forever and always be a content and a happy happy person. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At one of the training sessions for Miss Nepal with Sakil </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Nepal contestants 2010 batch </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #262626;">After all, a loser becomes a loser only if he/she accepts to be one. And I have lost nothing but have emerged out of the contest winning memories to last a lifetime. So stop worrying about me, my dearly beloveds. I am indeed in good hands of my never-defeating soul :)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626;"><br />
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</div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-72161733588999104922011-11-22T07:34:00.000-08:002011-11-22T07:34:43.563-08:00Weddings Or Parades?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Published in my column "Kathmandu Chapters" in Life And Times Weekly, November 6.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhplq751fHpfxuaRcEWivtxtPEX3_Z-1x6MiIRIp0wsXucMiISDEguNy8GcHp8hrp6udYSA9p5DH5iuoEqRHQppe5LBgpSQGBSKDHFxLCYSzACzENoEWfEwWn4IGVYTewxINmw1bXk-Ig4/s1600/a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhplq751fHpfxuaRcEWivtxtPEX3_Z-1x6MiIRIp0wsXucMiISDEguNy8GcHp8hrp6udYSA9p5DH5iuoEqRHQppe5LBgpSQGBSKDHFxLCYSzACzENoEWfEwWn4IGVYTewxINmw1bXk-Ig4/s400/a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">It’s funny how I have been thinking of writing on this topic for so long but only decided to do so for my column this week and when the timing so aptly coincided with the big Kim Kardashian fairytale wedding crashing to bits after surviving only 72 days, I took it as a sign from the universe. It was about time, I recorded my views on WEDDINGS, once and for all.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69fj7p-LJ2VLEwjbrhuTuK3KBwyrQoBCoA24hV0PluPs4zpOPzAblX-S-qSqL_boo82HxNQ98rXdit4dhXNIR1_dBiJwiqkavBJetOaGWlhoL3jrBQ8chD4u9KVHkARTHPhPQ89GCvp4/s1600/kim-kardashian-wedding-photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69fj7p-LJ2VLEwjbrhuTuK3KBwyrQoBCoA24hV0PluPs4zpOPzAblX-S-qSqL_boo82HxNQ98rXdit4dhXNIR1_dBiJwiqkavBJetOaGWlhoL3jrBQ8chD4u9KVHkARTHPhPQ89GCvp4/s320/kim-kardashian-wedding-photo.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kim earned a good 18 million dollars selling her photo rights of the wedding alone</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Before moving on to the main topic, however, I have a little something to share. You know, a few of my fellow writers relate with me but most of whom I tell this simply brush it off as “silliness” when I tell them that I don’t really know what opinion I might hold for a certain agenda, until I start writing about it. Even right now, as I write, I have a vague idea of what I think of weddings, Nepali weddings in general, but will be able to take a solid stance on a notion, only by the end of this article. Writing is like taking a journey within myself, my facts, my fantasies, my soul all come into one place to help me zero in, in an idea; writing to me is an adventure of a special kind.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That said, and moving right back to the main story, a wise head was once quoted as saying, “If only people made half as much effort to make a beautiful marriage more than a beautiful wedding……(sigh)”</div><div class="MsoNormal">I couldn’t sigh with agreement more.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kim Kardashian who came to light in 2007 after her leaked home-sex-video, which most believe as “carefully backed up by porn movie industry”, married her basketball star beau in what was dubbed as America’s Royal Wedding, reportedly fetching her a whopping 18 million dollars just for the photo rights alone. With 20,000 dollars worth of wedding cake and 18,000 dollars each that cost her for her three Vera Wang wedding gowns and many such investments from top-notch business brands looking to promote their own names with the big Kardashian bash, it was indeed a fairy tale wedding, really. Just that they seem to have overlooked a rather important bit of the union called MARRIAGE, that was far from fairy tale. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that's her wedding cake ..phew .. and both the two vera wang wedding dresses and this cake was a gift to her. One extravagant wedding where the couple didnt have to spend a single penny and instead earned a big dough. :)</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kim might have gotten brands to sponsor her larger than life wedding, but the extravagance and the need for a lavish wedding seem to have embedded even the ordinary of people. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Especially true in context to our country where people see weddings as more of a way to make a statement; the beauty of two beautiful lives coming together as one, often takes a back seat. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I do not come from a large family background and therefore have few cousins and relatives living in Kathmandu, which leaves me with relatively lesser weddings and ceremonies to attend. And it was only a few years ago, when I attended for the first time, a full-blown Hindu wedding of my cousin brother. What I witnessed left me in utter despair. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Under the scorching heat, he wears a thick Dhaka Daura Suruwal belted by a Patuka. The bride with her head bowing down behind a red veil walks behind him as they circle a spot. A group of pandit’s helpers, yell at the couple for walking in the wrong direction, the bride’s mother yells back saying it’s the right way to do it. They argue for a while as the confused pair holds off. Beads of sweat from the sweltering heat overwhelm the groom and yet he sits legs folded in front of a blazing fire. Four grueling, barbecuing hours with the priest and the fire, before they are finally pronounced husband and wife. And, at the end of it all, what should have been a beautiful wedding day for two people ends up being a day for everybody else but them. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">And of course, there is the tradition of giving a party for reception, a party from the groom’s side and then a party from the bride’s side. It must have been a part of a long followed culture, but shouldn’t traditions like these be customized in accordance with time, especially when the inflation is at its all time high? Why cant the two people in wedlock, invite just their loved ones and throw just one party together? “Togetherness”- isn’t that what marriages teach us to be? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am sure you know of people who have drowned themselves in loans and debts just to throw what society would accept as a standard wedding. And you must also be in the know of people, who have invested money in beverages for their wedding parties, that if put together would be worth buying off state-of-the-art apartments in the city. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Personally, I would rather have it invested somewhere for brighter prospects of my family’s future than have it spent on alcohol- the vaporizing spirits, seriously. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But people of course have all the rights to spend their money any which way they like it. Perhaps, they host luxurious weddings for their children because it’s a once in a lifetime (hoping) super special occasion.<br />
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But mostly, people go ends to spend a fortune in these events because of what is hard-wired in our society : that notion which measures people’s status with the size of wedding parties they throw.</div><div class="MsoNormal">And time and again I find weddings, all glitz and glamour from the outside but as shallow in the inside. And time and again, I find it hard to answer as to what may be the need to invite people from far and wide, who’d rather relish in making judgments of how lavish the wedding is, how many varieties of dish is being served, how much worth of jewelry the bride may be wearing, how well dressed are the people in attendance? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Why cant weddings be what is meant to be. A celebration of two hearts that come in unison to love each other? Why can’t it be celebrated only with in the presence of a special few who truly cherish the bond? <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">But when the time comes, will I have the strength to fight the expectations of our hard-wired society to throw a parade of a wedding event? Most importantly, will I meet someone whose family would happily give in to my perspective? That, only time will tell. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here is wishing all the to-be-newly-weds this coming wedding season, a blissful married life ahead of them. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-88014621498722525012011-10-24T09:50:00.000-07:002011-10-24T09:52:13.797-07:00Aspiring to become a singer someday ...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><blockquote></blockquote><br />
At the whatnext's launch. Playing the guitar is my very good friend Manzil KC :)<br />
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<blockquote></blockquote></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-46123028273436140222011-10-24T09:24:00.000-07:002011-10-24T09:24:28.179-07:00Things Not To Do On Facebook<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">So by now we all agree that Facebook indeed is the most fabulous inventions of our times, right? From connecting to old pals, to making new ones, from finding one’s soul-mate to marketing one’s business- the list of all the fab things it does is simply endless.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">And like the rose that comes with its thorns much like Pushpa Kamal Dahal who comes with his crackpot doze of Prachanda, Facebook too has its fair share of pitfalls. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Well, am at least hoping that you know, that you shouldn’t put up your nude, semi-nude, drunken pictures in your profile. Instances of people being fired, friendships breaking down, lovers breaking up because of whimsical facebook statuses, unrevised photo updates and other indefinable FB activities are countless. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Also all the regulars such as filtering your friend requests, avoiding constantly updating one’s whereabouts to prevent unforeseen stalking, robbery, crimes should be knowledge of common sense. So let me put off discussing all that run-of-the-mill humdrums and zero in right on the topic I wanna talk about today. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnihDrjJ5LvkPy-lymbhHNVk4ZFZ1EqVQH2K1gIV3vZcPIhd_93PrMsNQVc6jXOkUODhJDva26_-vQIHi3I3ANdDL0KDW8r08YBUHWmdXBc76sKJ_5olSTeTefY8HElhlACLuf_P1PvE/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnihDrjJ5LvkPy-lymbhHNVk4ZFZ1EqVQH2K1gIV3vZcPIhd_93PrMsNQVc6jXOkUODhJDva26_-vQIHi3I3ANdDL0KDW8r08YBUHWmdXBc76sKJ_5olSTeTefY8HElhlACLuf_P1PvE/s1600/1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="color: #171717; font: 16.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; line-height: 20.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 15.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">A woman from New Albany, Indiana says that one of her Facebook “friends” burglarized her house after she posted an update indicating that she and her fiancé would be out for the evening</span>.</div></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">You know those silly, insignificant-at-the-first-glance facebook acitivities we indulge in? Of whose impact we come to know about only after the harm is done and there is no turning back? Let’s discuss that, shall we? And protect ourselves from all possible damage. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Check the list below to see if you’re an innocent partner in crime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Save yourself from“After 2 AM”:</b> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ted Mosby- the pivotal character from the hit sitcom “How I Met Your Mother” was popularly advised by his mother to heed her when she said, “nothing good ever comes after 2 AM.” But he’d break the 2AM rule anyway and would get himself in trouble all the time. The after 2 AM rule quite applies for facebook users too. If you’re awake until 2 AM then there are serious chances that youre most likely disoriented, drunk, depressed, or all of the above. And updating a status when in such an hour will most certainly prove harmful. So refrain yourself from ever posting anything after 2AM. Mosby’s mom said it, “nothing good is ever gonna come out of your head or into your facebook page after that.”</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbUTpGqdI4eSUvdxyZsASSulJUimyvgzmo-Mu3K9VzwSXcabTMH9785CBy_cq0ePE12QAHZB1bO182J8yCoilDekp5HUChs6SqJ3heEJ4DewrWmS_y7Zx8j43QI_wu6gg01nt2EW_hro/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbUTpGqdI4eSUvdxyZsASSulJUimyvgzmo-Mu3K9VzwSXcabTMH9785CBy_cq0ePE12QAHZB1bO182J8yCoilDekp5HUChs6SqJ3heEJ4DewrWmS_y7Zx8j43QI_wu6gg01nt2EW_hro/s320/1.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Needless to say, I am a big How I Met Your Mother fan. And at the time I penned down this article, I was watching back-to-back to series of it every day. Quite an inspiration lol :) </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Save yourself from “Down in the blue”: </b>Near cousins to the “after 2 AM” rule, the “down in the blue” is another vice you should watch out for. Hey, we’re humans after all. And if we laugh sometimes, moments where we hurt and cry are inevitable too. Only, it doesn’t take long before we climb ourselves up from the bluesy abyss and if we see a status update that we registered when we were sad, ninety percent chances are, that it will indeed embarrass us. So avoid updating your profile when you’re sad. Getting out of momentary sadness is much easier than getting out of the huge drama that we accidentally wove in front of our hundreds of facebook friends by that one silly “down in the blue” update. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7q7PCGJErPx-RQs1mMPZAxQOWTOTh1RQV8R3lqP2cfS69ywhddsi9KTAhpVRXk1ZiswJBD1k6mmstveFw1NdwjjdpTXq3ANjK2RUQz6c7mZ9O1gz4XG41tvPPcBiSpnhiuYI35dYPkAM/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7q7PCGJErPx-RQs1mMPZAxQOWTOTh1RQV8R3lqP2cfS69ywhddsi9KTAhpVRXk1ZiswJBD1k6mmstveFw1NdwjjdpTXq3ANjK2RUQz6c7mZ9O1gz4XG41tvPPcBiSpnhiuYI35dYPkAM/s200/1.png" width="189" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barney Stinson once said in How I Met Your Mother, "As soon as I start getting sad, I stop being sad and start being awesome instead" Try that. Telling you from experience, it actually works. Dont listen to weepy emotional songs or watch movies from that genre at all because you'll fall into the dark pit so fast, it will take a lot of your energy to bounce back. Dont dwell in misery, you have every right to become happy and successful as the next person :)</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Save yourself from “Posting photos with your guy/gal pal on your profile picture”: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b>You sure know that only the best of our pictures get the honor of making it to our profile picture. So when you share that space with someone else, you’re partly sharing the honor with him/her. While a group picture is purely harmless, you should however, think really hard before you decide to put up a picture of you with a friend of the opposite sex, especially if you are not too sure of the other person or of the relationship you have with that person. If you’re not in a very strong bond with the other person in the photo then avoid making it your display picture. Testimonials of people meeting their “the one” on facebook are aplenty, so you don’t wanna scare off your “the one” by putting up pictures of you with a non-important person. Also if you’ve only recently started dating the other person and its going really great, it’s a bad move to put your picture with him/her because that just puts too much pressure on the relationship. It sounds silly but think about it because it really isn’t. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL7Kw4vaxP3YF-8Oq4agG4uLqUR6Rjn516bRJhbA2vXNi00etfIfeNSdxl-kTdMThv-uFw_1ZMWIMh0ZVmfw56LLscZ7XZW3wHzxDCwqrs5y-bwnfwnCm_4blRJOuU1-SgtD7TukHq6w4/s1600/couple_on_beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL7Kw4vaxP3YF-8Oq4agG4uLqUR6Rjn516bRJhbA2vXNi00etfIfeNSdxl-kTdMThv-uFw_1ZMWIMh0ZVmfw56LLscZ7XZW3wHzxDCwqrs5y-bwnfwnCm_4blRJOuU1-SgtD7TukHq6w4/s320/couple_on_beach.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unless of course you really love the other person and honor their presence in your life. You know what they say, "If its in your heart, it's in your profile picture". But choose wisely :) </td></tr>
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</b></div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Save yourself from “Celebrity Profile Pictures”:</b> Talking about profile pictures, putting up celebrities’ pictures as your own is the most nonsensical fad I’ve ever seen. You are either butt-ugly, have an identity crisis or a lunatic to have a celebrities’ face as your own, possibly untrue but sorry my friends, but this is how others are gonna perceive you. Especially a big no-no if you wanted to impress that crush of yours. Unless of course, you’re in your early teens and you were just done popping your first pimple, promoting someone else’s face as your own is really… well- you- get- it. </div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Save yourself from “Celebrity Names”:</b> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And worst than having a celebrity picture as your own is putting up a celebrity name as if it belonged to you. I actually put up “Rachel Karen Greene” as my profile name after my favorite character from the sitcom FRIENDS and believe you me, it had people confusing and detesting it. It was only after several other changed names in my friendlist who seriously confused me and made me mad when I wanted to check them out with no results in the search bar, did I realize that putting up a celebrity, fake, improvised, wanna-be-hip names is so annoying.</o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT5eWJ0-aGqkG6jci0ltCmWRlcqpLCvD8MgK8kTgPdohVdxABdrThOUTaQ7WR6X8vMJAO_vWZKd9k7xFwpg9sLdNJFP01h8f3kcDwaxjNUcMbbzX27UnndgEXATA9e-xUUgCuxTJZdD54/s1600/confused-face.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT5eWJ0-aGqkG6jci0ltCmWRlcqpLCvD8MgK8kTgPdohVdxABdrThOUTaQ7WR6X8vMJAO_vWZKd9k7xFwpg9sLdNJFP01h8f3kcDwaxjNUcMbbzX27UnndgEXATA9e-xUUgCuxTJZdD54/s320/confused-face.png" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And not just celebrity names but non-name facebook names are quite a hassle too, you know like, Stud Boy or Crazy Gal. "I wanna tag my friend in a photo of hers but what was her facebook name again"? ugh! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKFhBuuT63vEBN0SFAZyoBhDkQCAVSE-X_gjA-efhuSPFo3xV0j42qfx5Lz9Mpkj5lhiBz-P9D5frr4ib1hOHaOZroiePUWf7XOmjZmJ7ljva_-zCeFN7kP09iXZ8prsq0Rs-csqawN4/s1600/god.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKFhBuuT63vEBN0SFAZyoBhDkQCAVSE-X_gjA-efhuSPFo3xV0j42qfx5Lz9Mpkj5lhiBz-P9D5frr4ib1hOHaOZroiePUWf7XOmjZmJ7ljva_-zCeFN7kP09iXZ8prsq0Rs-csqawN4/s320/god.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And you sure dont wanna disappoint GOD :)</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Save yourself from Poke: </b>Not gonna say much on this except, virtually poking someone you barely know is the creepiest thing after murderers, pedophilias, molesters, rapists- not necessarily in the same order. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></b></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgthhXwswrnRnGFIhbxikBboicX1In2_uX1QtqbbMiIYevs53_ylFo_FF1dfNy93t8Ze_tIm_NB3sGvrEPYagvyZG21xBf-LK3kMU2MJy86Q40RVCGJITqzxn3XH0MxT5lRbfUSjE1LH50/s1600/poke+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgthhXwswrnRnGFIhbxikBboicX1In2_uX1QtqbbMiIYevs53_ylFo_FF1dfNy93t8Ze_tIm_NB3sGvrEPYagvyZG21xBf-LK3kMU2MJy86Q40RVCGJITqzxn3XH0MxT5lRbfUSjE1LH50/s200/poke+me.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now would'nt you poke that....I mean her! :D</td></tr>
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</b></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Save yourself from “Relationship Status Drama” : </b>And finally wrapping up the list is saving yourself from the facebook romance drama. Think a million times before you change your status from single and a gazillion times before you set your profile to “in-a-relationship-with”. Until you’re officially engaged or happily married, linking your profile with any other person is actually never a good idea. And oh the break up and the mess to which a hundreds to thousands monitor with so much interest is definitely not sweet.</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hprXZZlLALyEmi0ZtkidKXs1rT2OXm5R5avpjr0Vkzm6ddVKs5G2l1V6cBEasnqHG1XSC-k_QpfCnm5Mz6En2CQ7NsTXv5NICAr4BYfN0N7wklg0r-1R3_hQIoKbtgjyxbgRoAVSlEw/s1600/protection-couple-facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hprXZZlLALyEmi0ZtkidKXs1rT2OXm5R5avpjr0Vkzm6ddVKs5G2l1V6cBEasnqHG1XSC-k_QpfCnm5Mz6En2CQ7NsTXv5NICAr4BYfN0N7wklg0r-1R3_hQIoKbtgjyxbgRoAVSlEw/s320/protection-couple-facebook.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Psychics actually believe that there exists such a thing as the "evil eye" or in Nepali "akha lagnu" and therefore they suggest happy couples to shield themselves from jealous glares by imagining wrapping their relationship inside a protective energy. I dont know if this will work but sounds quite interesting, I might as well try it myself and will tell you if it works *winkity wink*;-) </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal">So there you go, that’s my list of “things not to do on facebook” you could agree or disagree. Because , after all, we all have our right to expression and a right to use our FB profiles any which way we like. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Besides, am kinda really hoping that most of who commit ,these facebook crimes don’t get to read this piece at all. Because if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be getting more than half<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>of my facebook entertainment from my FB homepage. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Until my next post. Happy facebooking. Cherio!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Q: Why should you create a Facebook Account with the name "Nobody"? A: Because when somebody posts something stupid you can say "Nobody Likes This!" </div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"></div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Q: Why is Facebook like Jail? A: You have a profile picture, you sit around all day writing on walls, and you get poked by guys you don't really know! </div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 19.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Q: Why is Facebook a great site for loners? A: Because it's the only place where they can talk to a wall and not be considered a loser! </div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 19.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Q: Why is Facebook like a refrigerator? A: Because every few minutes you keep opening and closing it to see if there's anything good in it! </div><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
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</div><!--EndFragment--> </div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-17348581530522564582011-10-21T10:35:00.000-07:002011-10-21T11:57:38.851-07:00TRAVEL DIARIES: Sukute Beach Resort<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3xP__d7YjFhyClVYApD_IxNWOzFp0ctkc-qQ3FMWYgKWJamWuTJCWErchXz2yta8SCmF8aP8j0sDm7tybGt4CPJi2o_1J7nz8LwKUBElz7Pb8uExikKXzLy_rQbimcttyjQNZMiUZL-g/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3xP__d7YjFhyClVYApD_IxNWOzFp0ctkc-qQ3FMWYgKWJamWuTJCWErchXz2yta8SCmF8aP8j0sDm7tybGt4CPJi2o_1J7nz8LwKUBElz7Pb8uExikKXzLy_rQbimcttyjQNZMiUZL-g/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Check out more pictures by copying and pasting the following link : https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.250585568325084.71378.193048584078783&type=1<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">I just realized that I take so many trips around the country so often and yet I haven’t written a single travelogue yet. And I call my self a writer? Worst yet a blogger!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Therefore out of sheer disgust for my unexplainable ridiculousness, here I am penning down my first travelogue- of some sort, I guess. It would be a non-fuss, low profile weekend getaway with my girls as I had assumed but needless to say the fabulousness of it has me registering the experience as my first travelogue of my life. So here I go. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>The Journey </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Sukute Beach Resort’s office at Thamel, beside Pilgrims bookstore was our meeting point. Our bus was to leave at 8 but only did so around 9:30 in the morning. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>I was expecting a microbus as a means of transportation, but it was a medium-sized bus instead, that was waiting for us at the stop in Sorhakhutte. It is a little more than a 2 and half hours of journey from Kathmandu to Sukute Beach. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEiNUAsVj-asoM5fyQIml2bAODiyDJ03jlSsqwafC5wSz7ZK8yc6uNoQ3WfoKfHXtJ9UEUjEnMv8wPN3iRxCjVwNnhXYz3RjLM4AMh9XTx0xQuISJLjEI4xtMzxDjo1yuv1WmOE_6vOic/s1600/1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEiNUAsVj-asoM5fyQIml2bAODiyDJ03jlSsqwafC5wSz7ZK8yc6uNoQ3WfoKfHXtJ9UEUjEnMv8wPN3iRxCjVwNnhXYz3RjLM4AMh9XTx0xQuISJLjEI4xtMzxDjo1yuv1WmOE_6vOic/s320/1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Sukute Beach Resort- First Glance </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">After reaching the place, I was pleasantly surprised by the welcoming, lush green ambience. However, the swimming pool was relatively smaller than what I had expected. Other than that, I was overjoyed to see the pool table and table tennis board set up in the open hall area, which was a recreation room, dining room, lounge, bar all merged into one. The best part perhaps was the fact how our huts overlooked the bright blue Bhotekoshi river that so mightily ran just a few feet across us. Now this was exactly how I imagined Sukute to be. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rafting the white waters </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>It wasn’t my first time at rafting and so I was relatively calmer than my friends. However, when the raft guides put serious efforts in explaining the dangers of the white waters, I have to admit it scared me a bit.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>I remember sailing through calm waters for most part during my rafting experience in Trishuli river, but BhoteKoshi was a different ball game altogether. 30 seconds into our trail and a big gorge and with it a bigger wave of white water engulfed our raft, hinting me that in fact this was going to be one hell of a ride and nothing like the one I had in Trishuli. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfG5e9pUsA6k2f5pkAbXV4tKSHEtHdw2WoTgh_hN5LATb01UV2NSpVxSRjJCg5bx-e5l535dIEOFPKEkeZN8j3TdByAgOaRQlMdIrPJddoQeQE9vd7O5FXUI863Fx3Nv95UAu5Q3kicU/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfG5e9pUsA6k2f5pkAbXV4tKSHEtHdw2WoTgh_hN5LATb01UV2NSpVxSRjJCg5bx-e5l535dIEOFPKEkeZN8j3TdByAgOaRQlMdIrPJddoQeQE9vd7O5FXUI863Fx3Nv95UAu5Q3kicU/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My rafting trip in Trishuli, 2009.</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>Waves after waves kept hitting our raft and god knows how tightly we held on to it, because a slight fail in staying put would mean an inevitable fall into the powerful currents. As we moved along the thrilling white water trail, I woo-hooed with excitement, cheered with joy, relished in the beautiful green hills that stood tall and proud in either side of the river; helping me realize how beautiful my country really is. That, right there was my “moment of epiphany”. I knew, there has to be more of what Nepal has to offer and I would definitely be exploring it all in due time. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"></div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>The best part: Where the guide slyly throws your friend inside the river. And while you’re laughing you’re a** off, he does the same with you. Until all of you are inside the icy cold water. But an experience worth a million dollars—wait not perhaps a million dollars but definitely close to it :P</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFzWw8OHkIY80oDamARLNnjLwA4JA0uGyVxJwuujjWq3EoSfaDD7eRPizJMb-DDCeuM0CY37Fh9IfEV3hDNolqxeKEC1BGJmNWnSEsRVtlhUAazt4C4a6I9djE0lpxNcpYUcopburcSes/s1600/1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFzWw8OHkIY80oDamARLNnjLwA4JA0uGyVxJwuujjWq3EoSfaDD7eRPizJMb-DDCeuM0CY37Fh9IfEV3hDNolqxeKEC1BGJmNWnSEsRVtlhUAazt4C4a6I9djE0lpxNcpYUcopburcSes/s320/1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>An observation: </b>For the first-timer rafters Kurintar’s rafting program in Trishuli river is not that bad. For those who seek a real-rafting experience however, Bhotekhoshi is the place to be. In all honesty, after my rafting experience in Bhotekoshi, I cant help but feel that what I did in Kurintar was just a fancier boat ride and nothing more. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>After Hours </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">You’d think a weekend into the wilderness would include a camp-fire and nothing but the creaking noises of insects and heart-to-heart conversations with the besties to spend the night away. But nah, we love our friday nights. There were cyclists from Czech republic, aspiring kayakers from the USA, rafting enthusiasts from Germany and of course us, a group of zealous Nepali girls, making up just the perfect amalgamation of cross-cultural residents at the resort. As the sun went down, all of us assembled in the hall (also because there was no other place to go), we contested each other at games of TT and pool, some got busy at the bar, still hanging on to our Dashain spirits we played non-stop games of cards and surprisingly the music that was played through out were back-to-back hits; oldies, romantic, bollywood, club mixes, you tell it and they have it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1E4gigSKa3-gF7gflfhnyp3iiRFqMZnSFNQeRAvVKCeI_h4cUQSsSQs3GU8bNVpaVmHS2ewyWIREUiWWBx7Q7PlzCOb2yM-BNQA_YWnp5Equo3-M0jz30zC7C2EbHPjkvHCeDbFI578/s1600/5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1E4gigSKa3-gF7gflfhnyp3iiRFqMZnSFNQeRAvVKCeI_h4cUQSsSQs3GU8bNVpaVmHS2ewyWIREUiWWBx7Q7PlzCOb2yM-BNQA_YWnp5Equo3-M0jz30zC7C2EbHPjkvHCeDbFI578/s320/5.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cyclists from Czech Republic who cycled all the way back to Kathmandu the following day</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hall area.</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Around 11:30 ish at night, just us girls along with our juniors from our college who happened to crash at the resort in the evening, descended unto the white sand Sukute beach. As we talked, laughed, played games under the full moon that lit so brightly with the soothing sounds of the flowing Bhotekoshi as if playing in the backdrop, we realized that this would be a weekend we would remember and cherish for a long long time. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>The following day </b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">The bus was to leave after our lunch the following day. And just when we were wondering how to spend our time until then, the resort installed a volleyball net for us. A game at the beach, a dip in the pool and a camera with a tripod, what else could girls possibly ask for? </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Within 2 hours after leaving Sukute resort we reached our homes. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Sukute Beach Resort- Honest Review </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">Honestly, when I heard the word “Sukute” at first, I was not to excited. I mean, what kind of a name is Sukute? Did it stand for the sukuti-fried fish, or are the people residing there really sukute- lean and malnourished. And topping that, they were only charging us Rs.3000, so I didn’t have my hopes set high on what it had to offer. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But clearly, it blew me away. Perhaps, because I underrated it or the fact that Sukute really is serene, whatever the reason, this place is a must visit for the perfect getaway for everyone in the city. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Finally, it is my opinion that if only people made trips like these; short, long, luxurious, economical inside the country and if only they blogged their pictures or write-ups about it on the many sites, it would be a real help to promote what is dubbed the Toursim year of 2011. Sadly, am realizing this with 2012 already knocking on our doors, but you know what they say, its never too late to do anything that is RIGHT.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And I can assure you, Nepal is every bit worth to be explored, loved and talked about. Here is to the beauty of our country, cheers to the spirit of domestic tourism. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>Food</b>: Nothing fancy but clean, tasty and satiating<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>Toilet</b>: The toilets come with a bathroom attached with and are pretty clean and spacious. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b>Accommodation:</b> Appropriate. With two single beds allocated to each huts and thoughtfully installed light bulbs to the outside of the tents in order not to attract insects inside the tent after dark.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><b>Things to take with you </b><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">Sunscreen <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">Towel: The resort doesn’t provide you one<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">Wet wipes, Tissues<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Swimsuit<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Shorts and tees (2 sets)<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Sports Strap sandals: It’s a better option to wear them during the raft ride because the rocky shores that people are made to walk upon later would be and speaking from experience, is very harsh on the bare feet. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Qj4F-nXiaukeYPqdxg37QOCxhsEch2u0bttcDDAIAywRvvkW_HzklxQOXfPds6IZoCX3OWb3V4roPVN9mt_qIItDNw-oVlMnUwJQE9GJTdAk4W-YsXt_DsrbzJpRuzG3L1cFcbgaKqQ/s1600/sandal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Qj4F-nXiaukeYPqdxg37QOCxhsEch2u0bttcDDAIAywRvvkW_HzklxQOXfPds6IZoCX3OWb3V4roPVN9mt_qIItDNw-oVlMnUwJQE9GJTdAk4W-YsXt_DsrbzJpRuzG3L1cFcbgaKqQ/s200/sandal.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These kind of sandals are the best for a rafting trip</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>If I were to go again… </b><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>I’d love to take a camera that takes better pictures than my minute digi-cam. If only I had a semi-professional or a professional camera, it’d be awesome. It’s a great place to take pictures to capture beautiful memories or …. you know boast about it all on Facebook, showing your friends how much fun you had. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span>All the time I was on that raft I kept wishing in my mind if only I had a water-proof camera. I haven’t exactly figured how it could be done, like wrap it around your body or tape it against your helmet, but if only I had somehow managed to catch my rafting journey on tape, I swear it’d get a million hits on YouTube. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><b>Contact:</b> Sukute Beach is run by a certain Equator Expeditions. Got this info out the net, if incase you make your mind to ever go there. </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f4f4f4; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"></span></div><div align="center"><strong>Equator Expeditions (P) Ltd</strong><br />
Thamel<br />
P.O Box 8404<br />
Kathmandu, Nepal<br />
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<strong>Sales Phone:</strong> (977)-1-4700854, 4700782<br />
<strong>Main Office Phone no:</strong> (977)-1-4356644, 4354169<br />
<strong>Fax:</strong> (977)-1-4425801</div><div align="center"><strong>E-mail: </strong><a href="mailto:equator@mos.com.np" style="color: #f4f4f4; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: yellow;">equator@mail.com.np</span></a></div><br />
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</div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-60758300714994634962011-10-04T23:18:00.000-07:002011-10-04T23:19:51.905-07:00You Choose Your Religion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">My home-economics teacher was an average lady. Fitting the expected look of a typical Nepali middle-aged woman, clad in her sari, hands folding atop her slightly bulging belly, she’d walk across and through the many lanes formed by the aligned desks, in our class-room. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Home-economics; a subject which many schools now have chosen to opt out of was however a compulsory subject for us back then. And although, I fared pretty bad at those “petticoat and blouse” stitching projects in my 9<sup>th</sup> and 10<sup>th</sup> grade, it makes me happy to know that I at least successfully acquired the many skills such as knitting, embroidering and even back-stitching, which my late grandma used to remark as machine-like work; I totally loved the subject and the teachers who taught it, year after year. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Back in school, more than the hard-core digits and mechanical formulas, I related more to philosophies, day-to-day concepts and beautiful stories. And stories she used to narrate aplenty. So, after hourly classes of perplexing theorems and mysterious chemistry (for me), her laid-back home-economics class was the one I looked forward to everyday. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Of the many invaluable lessons and advices she imparted on us, although unknowingly and as perhaps a part of a random chatter, one is a phrase I have heeded since long, “One is not to have any opinion regarding somebody else’s culture, caste or religion, or a disagreement or discontentment is bound to follow” she used to say. And over the years I have to come to realize it to be true. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Only today, after professionally writing for almost eight years now (I started when I was 17, just incase you think am too old), today, right here is my first ever attempt to write anything about religion. I know am walking on shaky trails and indeed treading on it carefully. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">At a former work-place, my colleague named “Laxmi” argued up a storm with me as to how Jesus Christ is thee ONLY god who is real and the one who matters. She made me feel bad about how I didn’t go to church regularly. And I went in my head, “my god your name is Laxmi. Named after a Hindu deity. How can you be so rigid in your Christian beliefs more so than me, a third generation catholic?” And after several minutes, I finally gave up and “make-believe” gave in, just to calm her down. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">People often times look quite surprised when I tell them that the cross shaped pendant I wear is not out of fashion but because I am really a catholic. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggmNlRumKiKcc4dGgpMGiqiEptUBmqe1jo-GPlYZjjpi5uWo8hZCfYqr9BT618qOzH7rnTNiHT9yRcCRv8avb6ZBwOyUVnDtiBJMdcBS4mEMelW7pH_lDONqAzyw0MXa8aDfJC6fbEsSI/s1600/aa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggmNlRumKiKcc4dGgpMGiqiEptUBmqe1jo-GPlYZjjpi5uWo8hZCfYqr9BT618qOzH7rnTNiHT9yRcCRv8avb6ZBwOyUVnDtiBJMdcBS4mEMelW7pH_lDONqAzyw0MXa8aDfJC6fbEsSI/s320/aa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoIzVbRuoux5ekWuncFabvV1lGbFdsXR4ma0bCJh-NF9KTMQOirbXb4ZOo-knVHYKyMr197y2zcA1NOYpGQ6juA_SDWZ252RXd7oFnfO9il83Jg4zDTXzV52uOPTWVBOF-9T3EFaa5-e0/s1600/a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoIzVbRuoux5ekWuncFabvV1lGbFdsXR4ma0bCJh-NF9KTMQOirbXb4ZOo-knVHYKyMr197y2zcA1NOYpGQ6juA_SDWZ252RXd7oFnfO9il83Jg4zDTXzV52uOPTWVBOF-9T3EFaa5-e0/s320/a.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready for .. erm.. i forgot what event, but there's my cross right there, shining away ;-)</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">And the info that I have to let out next, like, how I am a 3<sup>rd</sup> generation catholic, yes I am allowed to visit temples, I don’t eat cow, no my family didn’t take any money to turn into Catholics and hell no! I didn’t choose this religion because I thought it was cool, or Hollywood-ish many might suggest. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Phew! That crucial moment where my “questioner” takes time to decide if he/she will look at me the same way after being hit by my catholic revelation, is quite intense. But they almost instantly take me back as soon as am done uttering my “ I don’t eat cow” sentence, I can tell you that. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Jokes aside and into reality, of the many things I love about Nepal one is the fact how religiously tolerant this country is. We have people following all religions and yet we vigorously celebrate all the festivals like our own. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am quite researched on this topic, specifically on the South-Asian region and I cant help but feel blessed to have been a part of a country that enjoys relatively greater freedom when it comes to exercising one’s culture and religion. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now you may be wondering how I suddenly shifted my gears from talking about parties and events to talking all about religion, to which I can tell you with hopes that my mom doesn’t read this piece that the reason I fail to attend my weekly church on Saturdays is perhaps because of my excessive partying on Friday nights. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Mom, I don’t go to church because God resides right here in my heart” I cutely place my excuse every time. And although, I feel a little guilty when she buys it, I think in my hearts of heart I truly believe in that statement. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">News of animal slaughter in the name of god, forceful speeches and actions to convert one’s religion – all seem extremely un-appealing to me and I still don’t get why would people do that. Religion for me is not mindlessly worshipping a deity but being the kindest and the most disciplined version of you, because really, isn’t that what all religions teach us? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq41vWEqL5tQXuUXEm5aAjNJ0VitNOdyMZuAAdngqFvaZa716_jBWtXkyKVUdeQ1jcL2eCxHvfsLLGf5CyfPmFD6bo-k7RwXIUqQjqPqCK6aGxad9j01VaX98mdN3Uf9U9T6gI06nz-ig/s1600/dashain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq41vWEqL5tQXuUXEm5aAjNJ0VitNOdyMZuAAdngqFvaZa716_jBWtXkyKVUdeQ1jcL2eCxHvfsLLGf5CyfPmFD6bo-k7RwXIUqQjqPqCK6aGxad9j01VaX98mdN3Uf9U9T6gI06nz-ig/s320/dashain.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's my dad adorning me with the Dashain Tika, waiting in line is my brother. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Religions there are a plenty but the lesson is just one- the biggest religion is indeed the religion of humanity. I feel lucky to have been born to a Catholic mom and Hindu dad. Needless to say, I have been enjoying the best of both worlds since my childhood, earning hoards of money in Dashain and being showered by goodies all through Christmas. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zxlybDCAS8toGQsDhw46aCSgE6eBqBtKgZFoEJsrlXD6eJOWK4qTwcFR-x8blsc7FXX2WlfCIspnQmW5Wf03g2Yw_CledOtu6Yn3cE9lw6ZWcg088oPdASjVBrion4dCT_zn-qnxsM0/s1600/b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zxlybDCAS8toGQsDhw46aCSgE6eBqBtKgZFoEJsrlXD6eJOWK4qTwcFR-x8blsc7FXX2WlfCIspnQmW5Wf03g2Yw_CledOtu6Yn3cE9lw6ZWcg088oPdASjVBrion4dCT_zn-qnxsM0/s320/b.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my very catholic mama and maiju. Celebrating Dashain because we're Nepali first and Dashain is the most joyous, Nepali festival of all. </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">And that’s the thing about being a Nepali. I could still have my head shaved and apply for a Buddhist monastery as a nun, or put on a burkha and enter the muslim community, there will be no voices raised or manslaughter set off like most of our unfortunate neighboring countries might have to face. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And with Dashain just around the corner, I can already feel the excitement rising. A Hindu festival it may be, but I know I speak for a thousand non-Hindu Nepalis that Dashain to us is more like a national festival and that we celebrate it simply because we are Nepalis. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Eed, Budhha Purnima, Christmas or even Valentine’s day, Nepalis sure have learnt to embrace and celebrate with must gusto the wonderful side of all that the many religions brings.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So here’s wishing everybody a delightful festive season. Reconnect with your loved ones, create more beautiful memories for yourselves, celebrate the joyful vibes of Dashain, celebrate life. Have a good one everybody. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAd93SZPRHI9GCx7I7AAOK_9Svj5wOCWtbQ7xFxA86rWgWf431os8C4NuE0oOw0ni5blGpcvfoJ8MLOjTpOR1tPCq5dFBRn1CWwA8PeCo1cpvSXtbBHbfUAe39rA6dHv9fUyY84auPgU/s1600/c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAd93SZPRHI9GCx7I7AAOK_9Svj5wOCWtbQ7xFxA86rWgWf431os8C4NuE0oOw0ni5blGpcvfoJ8MLOjTpOR1tPCq5dFBRn1CWwA8PeCo1cpvSXtbBHbfUAe39rA6dHv9fUyY84auPgU/s320/c.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I put tikas to my two elder brothers on Bhai Tika with much gusto and much expectation of earning a lot of money blessings ;-)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh_LmOaerQ1Q1XM3NpisIdGQPYcS4ph2enVAcr0UWhyjcWkAT-JMs3d_fCzbNv1D-apVovsbEIZs_IFcr_bi_Y5qHCsnIZCRgnhcPfKNWHlGlftUORoTmE3tZQ3RLLBQ-1uBeNzn1wkxs/s1600/d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh_LmOaerQ1Q1XM3NpisIdGQPYcS4ph2enVAcr0UWhyjcWkAT-JMs3d_fCzbNv1D-apVovsbEIZs_IFcr_bi_Y5qHCsnIZCRgnhcPfKNWHlGlftUORoTmE3tZQ3RLLBQ-1uBeNzn1wkxs/s320/d.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and when Christmas comes along, it is celebrated with as much enthusiasm and joy. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKzKD8-AsSdcliFOPz8wzjwwlmZZnu4ydSoQseM25mFNSHJJa3STTE9vPTQ47_U9VFJaxLGgVQ7vscaK4Ju_DQzhKxpM1tfQCgLeIG5T5lxWtrJWQ_AYMWFveoJQSssoJZq4t2MK7C7Ik/s1600/e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKzKD8-AsSdcliFOPz8wzjwwlmZZnu4ydSoQseM25mFNSHJJa3STTE9vPTQ47_U9VFJaxLGgVQ7vscaK4Ju_DQzhKxpM1tfQCgLeIG5T5lxWtrJWQ_AYMWFveoJQSssoJZq4t2MK7C7Ik/s320/e.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out the localized version of the baby Jesus being born in a Nepali style house. Nothing hollywoodish about it eh! :) </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">HAPPY FESTIVITIES FOLKS!!</div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-16583643582379444622011-09-01T05:15:00.000-07:002011-09-01T06:55:42.969-07:00Nepal’s Got it twisted Yo!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAD-dRRJPjFo7SFZ-8rOF3frVOUuIpoyk89uUx5yKScV6ymJzPCK8ig_p4z37OAah6fWABdb4Bztqd6_DGdyL08f29tp68ZnP0US13A-GU0Q0P4bD6Gbe5AG9EFukxxTUvukEjfUODWM/s1600/Tongue+Tied.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAD-dRRJPjFo7SFZ-8rOF3frVOUuIpoyk89uUx5yKScV6ymJzPCK8ig_p4z37OAah6fWABdb4Bztqd6_DGdyL08f29tp68ZnP0US13A-GU0Q0P4bD6Gbe5AG9EFukxxTUvukEjfUODWM/s320/Tongue+Tied.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Only recently I read an article on how these fellow youths from India have started, what they call a “samosapedia” where they give out explanations of the words and sentences that are unheard elsewhere in the world, but are popular terms in India and South Asia. Samosapedia.com- the definitive guide to south Asian lingo, they say.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And a recent explanation had me cracking. Check this out. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Backside (noun): Otherwise, a synonymous to the preposition behind, in Indian English however, backside is informally used to refer to buttocks. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And it got me thinking; Nepal must have its own share of twisted English too. Here are a few such words that I managed to come up with. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Dating</b>. Despite being a verb (in action) most people popularly rather use this word as a noun. Something like this: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aja ma “dating” gaera ako</i>. Directly translated to English, today I went for a “dating”. Doesn’t make much sense, eh! But, it got its grip on the English speaking youth here, nonetheless. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Juktion. </b>Now this one is clearly a pronunciation fault, because this word means exactly what “Junction” means- (noun) a point where two or more things are joined. Ordinarily, referring to a place where friends meet, like a hang out spot. Now some twisted guy, I am supposing a hip, hero, macho, popular guy at that must’ve thought it was okay to drop the letter “n” and decided to utter “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">yo bhatti mero Juktion ho</i>” meaning “this place is my juktion” and his devotees spread the word like a wild fire. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">One day a childhood friend of mine, mind you, well educated in a very reputed school, made small talks with me and asked “ So, sam, where is your juktion?” and I went, “what the hell is a juktion?”. And ridiculing my deficiency of the English language he went, “oh com’on. Juktion. Like where you might hang out with your friends”? And I said, do you mean “junction”? “Nope, oh my god Sam it’s called a “juktion”. He seriously thought and believed that “juktion” was a whole new and a valid Englsih word, and for a minute there, his assertiveness nearly had me believing in him. And that is how, dear readers, silly words with no meaning spread like that. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hoK7q-7IZcAY-njyTvaMVg5Tl4u96-nuHIq5JjyFlqVwp6xTaNJZXRqedkpFFE3_6xITPyTR05J_WVTBTU7Crmg-R59QNxVt5x2wegQ_6zcjFtFWmaMLSY0ZkPnH7BDeK0-t4gsHpnk/s1600/Bhagya.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hoK7q-7IZcAY-njyTvaMVg5Tl4u96-nuHIq5JjyFlqVwp6xTaNJZXRqedkpFFE3_6xITPyTR05J_WVTBTU7Crmg-R59QNxVt5x2wegQ_6zcjFtFWmaMLSY0ZkPnH7BDeK0-t4gsHpnk/s320/Bhagya.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I aint bluffing. Its one of these two guys who introduced the word "Juktion" to me. </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, moving on. Another such word and a quite popular one at that, is the word “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Good Friday</b>”. How the term, originally derived from Christian practice of commemorating the death of Jesus, turned into a complete party phrase, I will never know. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWzRMm53CIe1Ujt4ULSTMkznTMBAnNKko6HFiQLD4403b7oJkdIZVHTGzL9q0HILqoygm3xKkVfCfk5SEr7XpS5ZM7WmQ9orbiTVhnb-fhVHIFsS5ogJh8ITodY7Z9wVCSzMjmcsP1UU/s1600/funeral-procession-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWzRMm53CIe1Ujt4ULSTMkznTMBAnNKko6HFiQLD4403b7oJkdIZVHTGzL9q0HILqoygm3xKkVfCfk5SEr7XpS5ZM7WmQ9orbiTVhnb-fhVHIFsS5ogJh8ITodY7Z9wVCSzMjmcsP1UU/s320/funeral-procession-1.jpg" width="313" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On a Good Friday, that is observed each year on the Friday before Easter Sunday, Catholics wear black and dark-colored attires and traditionally spend the day in fasting and in silent mourning. In Kathmandu, however, the term has somehow caught on to become a synonym to mindless partying every Friday. Although, some ladies sure do wear black and dark- colored short dresses on Fridays, I don’t think they are even remotely aware of the real deal. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Good Friday, although a seemingly relatively good word to literally describe the day that our 6-days-a-week working Kathmanduites oh-so-enjoy, the meaning that it has evolved to absorb now, is most definitely, worlds apart to what is actually really means. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Sissy. </b>Not calling you one. Although some of you out there might actually want to be called one and here is the twisted definition as to how the confusion with this word started. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Sissy: (noun) describing to someone cowardly. It is also a highly offensive word referring to homosexuals or gay. But guess what our young, actually really young, like the early adolescent to late teens, especially girls, of our city use that word for? Hear the drum rooooooooooooooll, as I give you an example in a sentence. “ You’re so pretty, sissy”? Meaning, “you’re so pretty, SISTER.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Not kidding. I have heard several young girls use the word sissy to mean “sister” so many times its not even funny. So how do you think this word, which actually is a derogatory term for the homosexuals caught on to acknowledge a sisterly person in a loving way? I am guessing, the guys had their bro, bruv, bruh to address their brothers and the girls were feeling left out until the word “sissy” came along. Genius much. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqxufXPUVysNZDJBeqLW2X82LrPIS14isAe4k82ErB6eqih_forNvfbvh-zMqZOwD8kbiINn4KyURoRshO7DWCwzISpwI3HaIrNmmxe0fegYj1XGl6XZ2e_OPyBFEV1tQyOlg1i3dpkDM/s1600/prissy_sissy_t_shirts-p235806286460810405uhic_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqxufXPUVysNZDJBeqLW2X82LrPIS14isAe4k82ErB6eqih_forNvfbvh-zMqZOwD8kbiINn4KyURoRshO7DWCwzISpwI3HaIrNmmxe0fegYj1XGl6XZ2e_OPyBFEV1tQyOlg1i3dpkDM/s200/prissy_sissy_t_shirts-p235806286460810405uhic_400.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So there you have it, English words with twisted Nepali meanings. And how people here blindly follow without taking the slightest effort to even check what it really means. Like that phrase “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">cold store</b>” that you might get to read in about 90% of the grocery and convenient stores out here. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, you get cold stuff in the store, the store is air-conditioned cold, the cashier in there gives you cold shoulder? What’s the deal here? In all reality, it actually means nothing. There is no word or term as a “cold store” existent elsewhere in the world but in Nepal. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And if you read my column last week, you probably know that I traveled to Pokhara by road and if you happen to make a trip in that highway any time soon or in the future please notice the many eateries scattered through out, that reads, “Staff Hotel”. Means nothing again, but its prevalent and a famous name to give to their businesses. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And of course there are the good old village-English lingos that live on to entertain us. Like the words boot-jutta (Boot-shoe), cap-topi (cap-hat), <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">good garum</i> (lets make good, which actually means lets shake hands) and an endless line of phrases that I quite cannot contain in my word limited column here. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
If you are in the know of any such words or phrases then please feel free to share it with me, here in my blog. Who knows, with enough phrases we might come up with our own, erm… momopedia? in the future. Until my next column, have a good weekend every one, or a GOOD FRIDAY if you want to. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMudxUzcPvDKPhK1Ai9QkIg0fwZnLaTpvFd2r5wMlxoOKXzAQKXl-xgwLaVanjR9cmgCOqo_JYwh724SSUTKkO2xeqDxP5zVojrsa0lzuQK8iVdOhcbpwvZ7UHdmGGK9adC33rNmoCag/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMudxUzcPvDKPhK1Ai9QkIg0fwZnLaTpvFd2r5wMlxoOKXzAQKXl-xgwLaVanjR9cmgCOqo_JYwh724SSUTKkO2xeqDxP5zVojrsa0lzuQK8iVdOhcbpwvZ7UHdmGGK9adC33rNmoCag/s320/1.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuW70qEtLzk1P11R4SyEYbfWSHiYXc_IG1RGZmI-SjPzWY02bq7ptCS6uOkU5EFp3VVirik39yTLpp9WOYUlmVTXNg2HF_3ARODpBdS_uvK3R_wJcaTkUFvWPW1CwHoBsuE3p7HWzYKU/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuW70qEtLzk1P11R4SyEYbfWSHiYXc_IG1RGZmI-SjPzWY02bq7ptCS6uOkU5EFp3VVirik39yTLpp9WOYUlmVTXNg2HF_3ARODpBdS_uvK3R_wJcaTkUFvWPW1CwHoBsuE3p7HWzYKU/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-64886745007244756332011-08-18T05:26:00.000-07:002011-08-18T05:29:28.003-07:00RAJESH HAMAL AND I<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So when I woke up in the morning of my 24<sup>th</sup></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div class="MsoNormal">birthday last week, I had some idea that my day would go awesome. Little did I know that the awesomeness would include the presence of the legendary Rajesh Hamal himself. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqikCz95XAWx7IPatlDswuHoLwmqvdxmOvvvX_FVw3uhCIaPMPR-BF7n0Cgl-Axyi4NmErg926VgJsWOJAW3RMjzUazY3dtjj4oQhJtOwnYtpAaNPK46P1BPY6sewB2QfoxBDEa7uD5JM/s1600/IMG_0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqikCz95XAWx7IPatlDswuHoLwmqvdxmOvvvX_FVw3uhCIaPMPR-BF7n0Cgl-Axyi4NmErg926VgJsWOJAW3RMjzUazY3dtjj4oQhJtOwnYtpAaNPK46P1BPY6sewB2QfoxBDEa7uD5JM/s320/IMG_0038.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo moment with Rajesh dai at Moksh</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Rajesh Hamal- it’s not surprising that so much has been written and talked about this man. When I was growing up Rajesh Hamal was the only superstar of Nepali Cinema and it’s interesting to see, how he still manages to keep a good grip on his number one spot even after decades. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Remember that time centuries ago when Voltaire said, “I’d rather be ruled by one lion than a hundred mice”? Yes, Nepali audience has come to acknowledge Rajesh Hamal as that lion. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqDN4OV8WMEEuS3CFoYGPN5KkS9C7WwAsrDYp2FV1Xu7xdDohO78SdmnHdDD14G2lqDqjUkCxl3d1_jUUAxQy4MovFxdLalreBNttDqSUBhfgdSeH18dUkvkVfV8nUuNtHV9xObODXiXo/s1600/r1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqDN4OV8WMEEuS3CFoYGPN5KkS9C7WwAsrDYp2FV1Xu7xdDohO78SdmnHdDD14G2lqDqjUkCxl3d1_jUUAxQy4MovFxdLalreBNttDqSUBhfgdSeH18dUkvkVfV8nUuNtHV9xObODXiXo/s200/r1.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;"> "I <em style="font-style: normal; font-weight: bold;">would rather be ruled by one lion</em> <b>than by one hundred rats</b>" said Voltaire during the French Revolution.</span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The epitome of intelligence, personality and youthfulness that he is, Rajesh Hamal is indeed the sole synonym for Nepali cinema. Except, of course for that word, Kollywood. Which by the way makes me puke a little in my mind every time I hear it. Shortly followed by a strong sense of anger for the “genius” that came up with the word, who clearly deserves to be banished from the country for being so stupid. But, if people were to be exiled on the basis of being stupid, we’d have no government. Not that we have a government right now, but that’s a whole other story, we shall attempt to cover in the days to come. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgmCvAbHPwi2gbij6enp7gYb3FEu1LyTsLFmM1tNLWxw7de-V1146rD4FwKsfsVpnzCFdjfGqbsX9ODML8CcjoELeCTxHZyM8B1vrOYNt1AokUJNX6gtClMDHz77TpFdHW-aXM8xX9tU/s1600/r3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgmCvAbHPwi2gbij6enp7gYb3FEu1LyTsLFmM1tNLWxw7de-V1146rD4FwKsfsVpnzCFdjfGqbsX9ODML8CcjoELeCTxHZyM8B1vrOYNt1AokUJNX6gtClMDHz77TpFdHW-aXM8xX9tU/s400/r3.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FYI South Indian Film Industry is also dubbed Kollywood. Quite an inspiration eh!?</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, Moksh in Jhamsikhel was the venue I had chosen to celebrate my stepping into a new year, which somehow coincided with an event to take place at the same venue.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcUaBuWktGZkY1HML1rqLEVkIiUUhPOtSFIAt9X0nxOqOcPjnjQsc7FnQBLLbu8Q5PDsE_6T4uPvFVy3kjq5ZMfcEpSB1x4JAn5KP7g8s2jMMZcpcSGrx0ctgfKEja376s4uzNwHiGQoM/s1600/r4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcUaBuWktGZkY1HML1rqLEVkIiUUhPOtSFIAt9X0nxOqOcPjnjQsc7FnQBLLbu8Q5PDsE_6T4uPvFVy3kjq5ZMfcEpSB1x4JAn5KP7g8s2jMMZcpcSGrx0ctgfKEja376s4uzNwHiGQoM/s320/r4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">A fashion show and some musical performance followed by a DJ session, was on the cards that day and I was excited to show my friends a good time who’d come to celebrate my special day with me. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUFPQA0QODWQ_vBHwyrxQc7OvhKjYofQavM6HVUUxE7yU4jekz2YKhdYJlBSMPAG1SBoig721vwMZsKJhi-fc3PWeAcmBLoqIMExHR2-7EcQYZuMULsjyzz_nxJBvm4rTfLMU0l-kT50/s1600/mod1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUFPQA0QODWQ_vBHwyrxQc7OvhKjYofQavM6HVUUxE7yU4jekz2YKhdYJlBSMPAG1SBoig721vwMZsKJhi-fc3PWeAcmBLoqIMExHR2-7EcQYZuMULsjyzz_nxJBvm4rTfLMU0l-kT50/s400/mod1.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Only, the turnout of the rest of the party attendees was so magnanimous, one of who was Rajesh Hamal. And that awkward yet exciting moment was when my friend let him know of my birthday. </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Happy birthday” he wished. With a coy smile, “thank you” I replied. And there I was standing in an empty dance floor shaking hands with a legend and with the music playing in the background it was only certain of my “good” friend to suggest, “Sir, would you please dance with the birthday girl?” </div><div class="MsoNormal">I swear I died and resurrected for a fraction of a second of those first starting moments of the dance. Not because I was a shy dancer and not because it was the first time I took up an empty dance floor, but because I was dancing with Rajesh Hamal. The man I had been watching on TV all my childhood was actually in front of me. He was really doing a favor to a birthday girl by agreeing to dance, which was really sweet of him. I now have the epic moment (for me) captured and proudly showcased to my hundreds of friends as my facebook profile picture. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4o8_xVDR9LjC38YOrVhqfWyMXLwuybA8Oj94vxB72_gpYFJYjQUd40DG5GlHGW1RTROi-kYnvY_j0Y7d6avweXleb-Htzvm0jXU2g2JR6DlZqbI9ora4div5HXo2BX56Mgihz7mz0UA/s1600/IMG_0039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4o8_xVDR9LjC38YOrVhqfWyMXLwuybA8Oj94vxB72_gpYFJYjQUd40DG5GlHGW1RTROi-kYnvY_j0Y7d6avweXleb-Htzvm0jXU2g2JR6DlZqbI9ora4div5HXo2BX56Mgihz7mz0UA/s400/IMG_0039.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Sir would you mind if I take a picture of us?" " No,not at all" said he. Such a gentleman. </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Going by the few laugh lines that had appeared on the actor, somebody however, commented on the picture questioning how he ever managed to become a superstar. And it hit me how in all reality, Rajesh Hamal was never really the most good-looking of actors. And I am quite sure, that his trademark dialogue delivery- you know that furiously-yelling-man-bit, did put off a lot of people at times. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh77v9PA6fW-ZYDIjD2b12UlP30OKFd8x0rMCxaKA_O_dG7MijAMXx-_hdybiA2TOS7xwGEXmIHtqlWlLMvUtGOR3UVaxVXUAFux-aq5o6wiJnGnbMicZgmGHMBloEFtgH-8O-iaUQv5yU/s1600/angry+rajesh+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh77v9PA6fW-ZYDIjD2b12UlP30OKFd8x0rMCxaKA_O_dG7MijAMXx-_hdybiA2TOS7xwGEXmIHtqlWlLMvUtGOR3UVaxVXUAFux-aq5o6wiJnGnbMicZgmGHMBloEFtgH-8O-iaUQv5yU/s400/angry+rajesh+.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And despite it all, he never faltered from his top spot and still manages to bag all major advertisements to blockbuster movies, because he relates well to all strata of audience. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Rv-MBRloJoe5T-hhuCu8cG-_1xlHdSRAmBe1Gi-4EkYsaoFCFXJEh9ygqTojgBXTgIs4w0ESh7MtB1YoTkN96ylNNtv4E0ek_SelSLnV8sjjuxzXafQu9A2aFdRIDy2acoDP0KqqdDs/s1600/rajesh+hamal+ad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Rv-MBRloJoe5T-hhuCu8cG-_1xlHdSRAmBe1Gi-4EkYsaoFCFXJEh9ygqTojgBXTgIs4w0ESh7MtB1YoTkN96ylNNtv4E0ek_SelSLnV8sjjuxzXafQu9A2aFdRIDy2acoDP0KqqdDs/s320/rajesh+hamal+ad.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwxy5bSCo-moSab7zZIisczy8OosUhzPhGraibGtbXWlBJ77L6arw8jjl8tTFzhjQFeGbt998n18gIom_cpNwBmwry8aXCMvxmuKKCMgs7CAETwvfFF2b3ZJBpsgTvaWoGhOz7AhCiFA/s1600/rajesh+hamal+ad+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwxy5bSCo-moSab7zZIisczy8OosUhzPhGraibGtbXWlBJ77L6arw8jjl8tTFzhjQFeGbt998n18gIom_cpNwBmwry8aXCMvxmuKKCMgs7CAETwvfFF2b3ZJBpsgTvaWoGhOz7AhCiFA/s320/rajesh+hamal+ad+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXfo0CHhyG1hUXlHFRGbSTxUIKHuQ7_34B6m42M5Fgex4iTPnYNbVSq6ujWGaW29o-3ji-KSH4HO-DEEtQeXgxDWq5DskXZk8vGFJNxcS73HsWEA58WAU44x9dIWMnLB3zscvNISjlYk/s1600/rajesh-hamal-ad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXfo0CHhyG1hUXlHFRGbSTxUIKHuQ7_34B6m42M5Fgex4iTPnYNbVSq6ujWGaW29o-3ji-KSH4HO-DEEtQeXgxDWq5DskXZk8vGFJNxcS73HsWEA58WAU44x9dIWMnLB3zscvNISjlYk/s320/rajesh-hamal-ad.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Honestly, weren’t we all really glad that he was an eloquent speaker of both English and Nepali? A much-needed sigh of relief from the otherwise “Plichhhh” for please, “shet up” for shut up speaking Nepali actors. Not that their twisted pronunciation would bother us much, if they weren’t so desperate to show off their “Englisss” speaking skills. </div><div class="MsoNormal">And desperate was exactly what Rajesh Hamal was not. Insider stories of his punctuality, professionalism and dedication are abounding. Its no wonder success followed him like a loyal puppy. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mzsFOPRka42jTpGp4KzO4yUSYtETIQahQKd9iBfLgXi1rMOnzlUxL2DRiY-a8U-g2gy2ry3GGXwBQAV2UkECjFPv3KDS7BZMJr8J1C5ldhRdY1FOifNUPLf1s-z8GLvb6cRVQIBdwQ4/s1600/puppy2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mzsFOPRka42jTpGp4KzO4yUSYtETIQahQKd9iBfLgXi1rMOnzlUxL2DRiY-a8U-g2gy2ry3GGXwBQAV2UkECjFPv3KDS7BZMJr8J1C5ldhRdY1FOifNUPLf1s-z8GLvb6cRVQIBdwQ4/s320/puppy2.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The next that followed him was his famous dialogues. “Sathi ko lagi yo hatth salam ho, dushman ko lagi yo hatth falam ho” has continued to live on to be the most remembered and cherished movie dialogues of all times. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ApQmHMRhGotnwdLhukrRODNVe2iJ828wYkr5NM8b9qX052QvddwL5LL-NfQSslC-mOo7etjjozgX6jhBBLURC5u8tf798UNakX7layVEa09C2Ro0LaVz2cX_mEwV8bWdAW2l2A1AIt8/s1600/sahashi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ApQmHMRhGotnwdLhukrRODNVe2iJ828wYkr5NM8b9qX052QvddwL5LL-NfQSslC-mOo7etjjozgX6jhBBLURC5u8tf798UNakX7layVEa09C2Ro0LaVz2cX_mEwV8bWdAW2l2A1AIt8/s320/sahashi.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Directly translating to English the line would sound like this: “For friends, my hand is for salute, for enemies my hand is iron. Interesting, no. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_aiG-A7hcn120uprje4ank1XNGWbkBavhbbMZXjODmA9lyMUdFOTPD_7RE2jeiRNMGdLncAVypPUHoBNzlKlNeW5oXHXRpNeEFU9s4fSG80ttLmIG4Ea670SgzNGaDnEWTcnIhvA7rE/s1600/salute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_aiG-A7hcn120uprje4ank1XNGWbkBavhbbMZXjODmA9lyMUdFOTPD_7RE2jeiRNMGdLncAVypPUHoBNzlKlNeW5oXHXRpNeEFU9s4fSG80ttLmIG4Ea670SgzNGaDnEWTcnIhvA7rE/s320/salute.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wont take long for Rajesh dai to move from this to the one below.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTH7gIAYnakODZagICF4CY1GXU8NUVEvAvGtLHD4HVwZ38OxReBlW2XqdfAjJ33XQ0HAKg36X1_PRzlcgQfRYn_jNYdZ5GsciluZgiNlzCmWWVNX8zI2x1O_m86oLW_6UNVFk7BZfoCQ/s1600/iron+hand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTH7gIAYnakODZagICF4CY1GXU8NUVEvAvGtLHD4HVwZ38OxReBlW2XqdfAjJ33XQ0HAKg36X1_PRzlcgQfRYn_jNYdZ5GsciluZgiNlzCmWWVNX8zI2x1O_m86oLW_6UNVFk7BZfoCQ/s320/iron+hand.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So it comes as no surprise that Rajesh Hamal was the first Nepali personality to enter in the definitions for wikipedia.org and has pages such as “Rajesh Hamal jokes” in facebook and @rajeshdai twitter accounts that continue to immortalize him. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZfg7BZejDOuUUj4Eqz78PIBb4e5h3jwsX3V4Is3IFONg7pwonnY7uIWhfMsMR9h86yjgtSdTOpAyRgo6UP4bywqwXBeQZ0slGZTYhrEhl0Xq2YL72G0I59BFuA8djMEi-b8iYIyldilQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-08-18+at+5.41.12+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZfg7BZejDOuUUj4Eqz78PIBb4e5h3jwsX3V4Is3IFONg7pwonnY7uIWhfMsMR9h86yjgtSdTOpAyRgo6UP4bywqwXBeQZ0slGZTYhrEhl0Xq2YL72G0I59BFuA8djMEi-b8iYIyldilQ/s640/Screen+shot+2011-08-18+at+5.41.12+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RAJESH HAMAL JOKES TWITTER ACCOUT @rajeshdai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44gatx-BEBWZRHwiselCNzQPkrZ1_1ZLi8juVm_yIiFIeYX-gAlbO42rYjCkHLjvBjySM4viiyN-lrB-EH7Dwx44OtyQ7fZ0GOwWzzP57lSF_kxeMPG5Qtc1MjOH8eLa4wF-0LxwUs7o/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-08-18+at+5.42.38+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44gatx-BEBWZRHwiselCNzQPkrZ1_1ZLi8juVm_yIiFIeYX-gAlbO42rYjCkHLjvBjySM4viiyN-lrB-EH7Dwx44OtyQ7fZ0GOwWzzP57lSF_kxeMPG5Qtc1MjOH8eLa4wF-0LxwUs7o/s640/Screen+shot+2011-08-18+at+5.42.38+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RAJESH HAMAL JOKES PAGE - FACEBOOK</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now, that is the kind of an honor only a star gets and star he is. For in the event where I celebrated my birthday had a dozen gorgeous models strutting away and yet the eyes and the enigma was set on Rajesh Hamal. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-OkV4bBavI95rWdbLO5qIDOMVvYynrsUTwvpflH3HbfuAnJil74ddvOKwyUE_1MTyDbUCzRHnU3K2Tx6PhmT7qOasrOjPaQxAYLci1RBKRh4VQ4h8TtNTywHtkF1ZBPm9mq-sbjnvaM/s1600/rajesh+handsome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-OkV4bBavI95rWdbLO5qIDOMVvYynrsUTwvpflH3HbfuAnJil74ddvOKwyUE_1MTyDbUCzRHnU3K2Tx6PhmT7qOasrOjPaQxAYLci1RBKRh4VQ4h8TtNTywHtkF1ZBPm9mq-sbjnvaM/s1600/rajesh+handsome.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yes I am a fan of Rajesh Hamal but don’t be passing comments yet because you are one too. Really, its not your choice. Because it’s in our default mode to love momos,</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRJdGl49Jr_OmMsRYPZVLJuP9lRE98ejla87nhaKVg2kq8TXKivcifAfCnZi2EfB3Pf4XXHkCDp4HS5-08TBkaNbZZqK9YrQZ8Qu55o8OepRyUmxTb-oIHiqxhOVg-WdNCoGwUvM7RhA/s1600/momo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRJdGl49Jr_OmMsRYPZVLJuP9lRE98ejla87nhaKVg2kq8TXKivcifAfCnZi2EfB3Pf4XXHkCDp4HS5-08TBkaNbZZqK9YrQZ8Qu55o8OepRyUmxTb-oIHiqxhOVg-WdNCoGwUvM7RhA/s200/momo.jpg" width="196" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">take pride in living in the land of Gautam Buddha, </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6eIr66ZQDg3FhEC1qPMyE7-Pj0FmG1KhSU1Nbb1GOzf2YGk2jslNfmnp_hd3O3045f_DQ7FEdO4zV6IhoxF__y1WPmoHSCbIEvVZbQ8UvuMVgPXiNvbYTvhwRsWRKvtFBjBfJx6dkbY/s1600/buddha.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6eIr66ZQDg3FhEC1qPMyE7-Pj0FmG1KhSU1Nbb1GOzf2YGk2jslNfmnp_hd3O3045f_DQ7FEdO4zV6IhoxF__y1WPmoHSCbIEvVZbQ8UvuMVgPXiNvbYTvhwRsWRKvtFBjBfJx6dkbY/s200/buddha.gif" width="148" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">explain to the foreigners that you come from the country of mount Everest </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxW7y1SbvuXhF8VekofzXmkhKA6snsTI4nn52TEbBoqdHyQFyAwYQXKRYqj-40WHjwQBRwy6mXyj0Z9pD1nZTxxz0Sy8wfxAdp9ilUrLjINrohz7hKaY6QtXQZujyJZahqISqNAWFJKE/s1600/mount+everest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxW7y1SbvuXhF8VekofzXmkhKA6snsTI4nn52TEbBoqdHyQFyAwYQXKRYqj-40WHjwQBRwy6mXyj0Z9pD1nZTxxz0Sy8wfxAdp9ilUrLjINrohz7hKaY6QtXQZujyJZahqISqNAWFJKE/s320/mount+everest.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">and to be an ardent fan of Rajesh Hamal. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4AOQeRisoRMztCNXFYcovSW6akgVAkEDDVSj_hVtK-G3OsAhErfldcGrIMquE2VhsMri7-44HyCCfF-_VxsP3dRJv8vy-G9CZahlA-O9HtM3CpHzP9-F84ESwGE9NcDXpMXwrvFO6FTQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-08-18+at+6.03.54+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4AOQeRisoRMztCNXFYcovSW6akgVAkEDDVSj_hVtK-G3OsAhErfldcGrIMquE2VhsMri7-44HyCCfF-_VxsP3dRJv8vy-G9CZahlA-O9HtM3CpHzP9-F84ESwGE9NcDXpMXwrvFO6FTQ/s640/Screen+shot+2011-08-18+at+6.03.54+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first Nepali personality to make it to wikipedia</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For Rajesh Hamal is our He-Man, our Superman, our Shaktiman, our one and only superstar. And whether it’s his dialogues, hit movies, trademark hair or that uncoordinated dance moves, people simply love-to-love Rajesh Hamal just like that.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRmSO4OL-cJwsmOlyFY0Iq5hR51NW-piKYpjui4RkAusnxTwNvxhw443EzLcfcjbd6ywNUOa1FAqtWDgHBOFLsY58YuycX65kA3dk8SPHMx-fawd2nZXwqMiRqOnHEVcq098YKJ8vJeU/s1600/rajesh+last+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRmSO4OL-cJwsmOlyFY0Iq5hR51NW-piKYpjui4RkAusnxTwNvxhw443EzLcfcjbd6ywNUOa1FAqtWDgHBOFLsY58YuycX65kA3dk8SPHMx-fawd2nZXwqMiRqOnHEVcq098YKJ8vJeU/s640/rajesh+last+.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Last words: May you continue to awe generations with your magnificence Rajesh Dai, we wish you all the blessings from the universe. Not that you would need anything more after owning those “falam ko hath” but still. </span></span></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-84066506165346476962011-07-23T12:05:00.000-07:002011-07-23T12:05:05.738-07:00LOVEMANDU<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkK-N5hDCvE4iJ5SQfzbvEHD36wo5E1IP5_RVGZYXHu93xoY4ieuNEuGEoW8CBLb22N7crI27se0resCBvazjqScFC3mcJ0oYdeB46jqGX687eHPqiuELircFEsC34GEuLNvKU_uO-Rn0/s1600/a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkK-N5hDCvE4iJ5SQfzbvEHD36wo5E1IP5_RVGZYXHu93xoY4ieuNEuGEoW8CBLb22N7crI27se0resCBvazjqScFC3mcJ0oYdeB46jqGX687eHPqiuELircFEsC34GEuLNvKU_uO-Rn0/s400/a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">The very essence of the universe is love. And the more we share of it the more we get back in return is what this mega best-selling book “The Secret- The Power” that am reading right now tells me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">And after having gone through several chapters of the book I have come to a grand realization of the grander mistakes that I had been committing in my life, one of which falls into the context of my column here for Friday.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiz1jyhtWQaWiGxy-xehs2mg5lfSHiJg1hBflT6c5-YMhhzA0NczE8tHSzC6NEl6Ob7ErinZBwsmclrIxWA48dEIGgTiOlxH8xl5palmhyphenhyphenlvLGIVQU86vMgmlSu_cLufRlfRrzbXSkVH4/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiz1jyhtWQaWiGxy-xehs2mg5lfSHiJg1hBflT6c5-YMhhzA0NczE8tHSzC6NEl6Ob7ErinZBwsmclrIxWA48dEIGgTiOlxH8xl5palmhyphenhyphenlvLGIVQU86vMgmlSu_cLufRlfRrzbXSkVH4/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 18.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">The life of your dreams has always been closer to you than you realized, because The Power - to have everything good in life - is inside you.<span style="font: normal normal normal 13px/normal 'Lucida Grande';"><br />
</span>To create anything, to change anything, all it takes is just one thing...<span style="font: normal normal normal 13px/normal 'Lucida Grande';"><br />
</span>THE POWER. </div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 18.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 18.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">HIGHLY RECOMMENDED BOOK. AVAILABLE IN MOST NEPALI BOOKSTORES. GET ONE FOR YOURSELF. FEEL THE POWER.</div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">Around two weeks ago, when returning from a movie, my brother made a remark about the “parking at your own risk” signs that was plastered all around in the parking lot.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">“Why do they charge such hefty sums for parking and yet claim that it’s done on our own risk?” he said. “You should write about it” he suggested. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I came home that night and posted on my Facebook requesting everyone to place a comment about their “ What-the-hell Kathmandu moments” and there it was my BIG sin according to the book. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Will come back to that later but what amazed me that night was the downpour of comments and wall posts from Nepalese living in the country and those abroad registering with me their woes. Here, let me attempt to share with you some of the complaints they had. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Why the high parking charges, its not that I applied to buy the land. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tsSCSoh2Dh6PUj80E_PqY760C2hBfIcrxp5NAeEFIX721j1n4_46bpTr1ZBtN6hp2alaZGedJFSRLIY0Dio-TL2h6vZGBjD8qOD1T9Mt4H0AERzswzbqrm3EL_5g6KGMlnoBQKs7akE/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tsSCSoh2Dh6PUj80E_PqY760C2hBfIcrxp5NAeEFIX721j1n4_46bpTr1ZBtN6hp2alaZGedJFSRLIY0Dio-TL2h6vZGBjD8qOD1T9Mt4H0AERzswzbqrm3EL_5g6KGMlnoBQKs7akE/s320/3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Why do we hold up traffic for the “taukeys (biggies)” and free their way for faster commute when all they’ve delivered is delayed non-work? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Why the hell did the world's cheapest car still waltzed into Nepal all expensive? <o:p></o:p></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZrDWL6gHi41LJ1Xx7ojIatUSS5AJO4rL9m_7qLzK7zxUQEbwPSiIeAVwbaKXDzkE37ux5IP1qIOF4QHPg5CHYQf4_G2kVISY5tEwUYoi7Pen7N4v3abr3St4LUT6n7SGrZrEv1qHS5g/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZrDWL6gHi41LJ1Xx7ojIatUSS5AJO4rL9m_7qLzK7zxUQEbwPSiIeAVwbaKXDzkE37ux5IP1qIOF4QHPg5CHYQf4_G2kVISY5tEwUYoi7Pen7N4v3abr3St4LUT6n7SGrZrEv1qHS5g/s320/4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tata nano the one lakh Indian rupees car is currently holds a price of Rs. 7,90,000 to Rs.11, 78000 in Nepali Market. Sad No :(</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Its stupid how big INGO owned vehicles don't pay taxes and yet the environment friendly cars are heavily charged. <o:p></o:p></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDkGG_MbtHqWpGcYSGyMq3OeWmlB3O4Hq8FG9lD9ClFMB0JvQAvGphPe0MLx9rdl7ed9bYs1Bhoz1sDGk-aIAMwsCbt5NTMjuYHHfrr9r2mAhNHq99yHfs_4rFaGnJJVoBvy5JGuo1qU/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDkGG_MbtHqWpGcYSGyMq3OeWmlB3O4Hq8FG9lD9ClFMB0JvQAvGphPe0MLx9rdl7ed9bYs1Bhoz1sDGk-aIAMwsCbt5NTMjuYHHfrr9r2mAhNHq99yHfs_4rFaGnJJVoBvy5JGuo1qU/s320/5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In a country/city with such heavy traffic jams, the least the government can do is to encourage the citizens to buy electric cars like Rewa which not only is small and swift in traffic rush hours but also highly environment friendly. There is of course the loadshedding woes to worry about but, electric vehicles is still by far the better solution than petrol/diesel run vehicles. Because ELECTRICITY WE CAN PRODUCE, petrol we cant. Rewa which is around Rs.3 lakhs in India sells for over 12 Lakhs Rupees here. Again sad no :( </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">What is up with load shedding even during this heavy monsoon?<o:p></o:p></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAByXEzd_TSkiIFbiRlqTxurJClThRRsefwp2VI_R5Vjhp8a6QGUiOSudTPUA0-GN_M4DQKpCqn0oDF7xaugNVbxaZZD9zyc9VzNCe6GVRQrPL0N6do1a31FI-BPZXg5J_9h68IzGF0FA/s1600/IMG_3321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAByXEzd_TSkiIFbiRlqTxurJClThRRsefwp2VI_R5Vjhp8a6QGUiOSudTPUA0-GN_M4DQKpCqn0oDF7xaugNVbxaZZD9zyc9VzNCe6GVRQrPL0N6do1a31FI-BPZXg5J_9h68IzGF0FA/s400/IMG_3321.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The otherwise immovable Bagmati river of Kathmandu saw heavy flow this monsoon and yet the loadshedding continues. Event if its for a couple hours. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">How is anyone/everyone allowed to shut down cities and the country in the name of “bandh” any day/s they want? Lame.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsb-NgiamJUS615sUNCdoif30zsjQqZh8HU7Mijvz-mYyplZNEsNn3gXGOSJWtBcLQOj6z6wibv3EOHscYGTSr43Zj1OmSm5U1G9p0nZNqIsN9w2WkDhPteIy2vjOzF2YUUemI1e7rT0/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsb-NgiamJUS615sUNCdoif30zsjQqZh8HU7Mijvz-mYyplZNEsNn3gXGOSJWtBcLQOj6z6wibv3EOHscYGTSr43Zj1OmSm5U1G9p0nZNqIsN9w2WkDhPteIy2vjOzF2YUUemI1e7rT0/s400/6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">…and there were many, many more and No, I am not exaggerating. In fact, I bet you had some “WTH Kathmandu episodes” bubbling up in your head yourself. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">So according to the book, my action qualifies as a sin because I initiated a conversation that invited nothing but negativity and too much of negativity meant lack of love. That is probably why, I never got to finish what I wrote that week, missed my deadline and there was no “Kathmandu Chapters” printed. To which I’d have to talk with the author if that in fact was the price I had to pay for starting a wave of what was opposite of love, but for now, here is the new theory that I have adopted ever since that incident. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">“Try to love everything you see and your life will change in front of your eyes”. After all it’s the perspective that needs to be changed first before we change a system, a country, this world. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">So, here I go, a list of things why I love Kathmandu and perhaps why you do too, but were too busy seeing just the bad side of it. Let’s explore the good parts of the city that destiny put us together to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">For the sunny, breezy, mild and moderate climate that we’re blessed with. Fact: People actually die of depression in countries with gloomy weather. <o:p></o:p></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiANeevfpRaggRvvY8-tShj8Ygs74Z5ZM6p5R1hEoqlipFGPZbIUqDc21-f4GIsNSpPdlTE0dMVJVGpi4i_5FhUfskdpTRS1XB1wSrmyBSqYpn4kWToNW-slQy89rLPOY-d53IucAOLLg/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiANeevfpRaggRvvY8-tShj8Ygs74Z5ZM6p5R1hEoqlipFGPZbIUqDc21-f4GIsNSpPdlTE0dMVJVGpi4i_5FhUfskdpTRS1XB1wSrmyBSqYpn4kWToNW-slQy89rLPOY-d53IucAOLLg/s320/7.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahhh the blissful, sunny blue sky we get see all year through. That's a blessing we should cherish. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zX5dwReTsJFDM-vaywAvrYxghTZfjIILXFOXtKnNiAMowDzXh_FK4r907JpoOOO_uz4cB7-4HnfmCZsdnlcoFNvzIwtzx9kqOnAD5jdfNYLHWihFW-eOmdRP695vE7BD2BDAR0mdA5w/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zX5dwReTsJFDM-vaywAvrYxghTZfjIILXFOXtKnNiAMowDzXh_FK4r907JpoOOO_uz4cB7-4HnfmCZsdnlcoFNvzIwtzx9kqOnAD5jdfNYLHWihFW-eOmdRP695vE7BD2BDAR0mdA5w/s320/8.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">For everybody acknowledge strangers as dais/didis. Wouldn’t we be delighted if in a foreign land, somebody addressed us as more than just a “hey”. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">How the people here are getting increasingly talented (or that we’re discovering) by the day. I occasionally browse Nepali channels and the amount of talent sprouting everywhere in the many contests amazes me, makes me happy. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Kathmandu is such a melting pot for cultures, tribes, races and religions. Every one has a “gaun” they come from, native stories of their locales to share. This city is just so colorful. <o:p></o:p></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrfMbD2R_wnUguHX1mFECEKhT4Suh180fr4SeZ37gpm_TylMwVVpvamYIK_xB-enJwCnbGktKPic6gHPvDc-trHOCg5btyTP3WdHVGl8UhK2oG1zVT__rIB2aYSeQ0jlrjADegrfPuFis/s1600/bb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrfMbD2R_wnUguHX1mFECEKhT4Suh180fr4SeZ37gpm_TylMwVVpvamYIK_xB-enJwCnbGktKPic6gHPvDc-trHOCg5btyTP3WdHVGl8UhK2oG1zVT__rIB2aYSeQ0jlrjADegrfPuFis/s640/bb.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What looks like 8 KTM girls coming together to pose for a victory moment, can be symbolized for the perfect amalgamation of the innate Kathmandu essence. Girls from Mustang, Manang, Jomsom, Okhaldhunga and others coming together as one. The beauty of our country indeed, lies in our diversity. BTW on the bottom row to the extreme left, thats me ;0) </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Kathmandu is a lot safer city for girls than cities of other countries.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY5Z3xgp9gdHDRPvIgRupaYVi1e-PzuO9KAwDsRwhkrolyP0xtOgB_90cceRV7XuvxrOd9ZCjMV2ITfY8aonV4q8PzLixVvhyphenhyphenuymp-HnxldpLt1X6XJ4Z2dikLzpWfrZYWiPZpxF87r90/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY5Z3xgp9gdHDRPvIgRupaYVi1e-PzuO9KAwDsRwhkrolyP0xtOgB_90cceRV7XuvxrOd9ZCjMV2ITfY8aonV4q8PzLixVvhyphenhyphenuymp-HnxldpLt1X6XJ4Z2dikLzpWfrZYWiPZpxF87r90/s320/10.jpg" width="307" /></a></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Ladies here are also at liberty to don truly fashionable attires and guys are equally neat and groomed. No wonder the world is getting its share of talented designers like Prabal Gurung and Sanyukta Shrestha (yes, please google her she will surprise you) from our country. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"> LIKE HER ON HER FACEBOOK PAGE HERE> www.facebook.com/pages/Sanyukta-Shrestha/249028695113233?ref=ts</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"> </span></span></div></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtEYl-IS0R1mkDBBVZPrxdBgwObPmI_cFKPofpozpvjqD_IWFHa9VDf6EEbJwdb0td3NvZsiZ-ddLqEOQ8XvDC27yABL8CBi1PoRJcJ0KB5yGGJMLoFC8Rujrfzmtb8ps0REcE7WrumE/s1600/ss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtEYl-IS0R1mkDBBVZPrxdBgwObPmI_cFKPofpozpvjqD_IWFHa9VDf6EEbJwdb0td3NvZsiZ-ddLqEOQ8XvDC27yABL8CBi1PoRJcJ0KB5yGGJMLoFC8Rujrfzmtb8ps0REcE7WrumE/s320/ss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzh7MtRRtlthqZO1Pcl3MILxcpqXFHm7M7xnlyzHJERsESVUKhQQtgFDCvSCuvm4FDMagh1pSZbTo9e6PF8vwpcOrqFzTk5EBNPKNjmVrdjz7eW8fL1Ul3TU19ZzY6wU3kgNPpU_hjvlQ/s1600/ss1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzh7MtRRtlthqZO1Pcl3MILxcpqXFHm7M7xnlyzHJERsESVUKhQQtgFDCvSCuvm4FDMagh1pSZbTo9e6PF8vwpcOrqFzTk5EBNPKNjmVrdjz7eW8fL1Ul3TU19ZzY6wU3kgNPpU_hjvlQ/s640/ss1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, those are Sanyukta's designs. Oh pretty pretty!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">How people here are so net savvy. How there are several hit young youtubers like Promise Tamang, Natasha Shah, young influential bloggers like Lex Limbu all from Nepal. How we always help fellow Nepali people win net-based worldwide competitions. Basically the Internet unites us all Nepalese in a magical way, that’s difficult to explain. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOiRA6BfqKLY5ikKLe6AWumKblHlIXKVSho8eSazMGQ051WGzgPRYSf6Xn1SoL-4ALHZ3a308w1VX0QN53GOSwFSun0HWiwUpOmkHc-f70plKlRyJYOs8tk8I_J3vE-e7EpqeqGaSw4b0/s1600/promise+tamang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOiRA6BfqKLY5ikKLe6AWumKblHlIXKVSho8eSazMGQ051WGzgPRYSf6Xn1SoL-4ALHZ3a308w1VX0QN53GOSwFSun0HWiwUpOmkHc-f70plKlRyJYOs8tk8I_J3vE-e7EpqeqGaSw4b0/s320/promise+tamang.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Promise Tamang, the Nepali Makeup Magician goes from her simple herself to the following mind-boggling and totally awesome transformations...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAayCxYct0nA9uMyQyVc3rXSY6wmw_3eI6lzXjKpCHxpG4YhIGv-PkFaOtqNBfy2WfCR5dA6NWNEY1UGibV4oHSre4X8jLiAxrsu97k-rz5B2ORSJu9gQeK5VEFtH2XdfKpQShkix5MZY/s1600/pt1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAayCxYct0nA9uMyQyVc3rXSY6wmw_3eI6lzXjKpCHxpG4YhIGv-PkFaOtqNBfy2WfCR5dA6NWNEY1UGibV4oHSre4X8jLiAxrsu97k-rz5B2ORSJu9gQeK5VEFtH2XdfKpQShkix5MZY/s320/pt1.jpg" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Promise Tamang as the AVATAR </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbFhvqnKS9giLxq0u9ztjFGv3RoYvRj8l2fsXIdKUkhegK6Mq3NWIXlN6AMmETUDlPc_t-6ZPcH2gA-PTm3mXUqnj9vgXzIhwAjRhVb0DHkFUhV5KGGchQw3xOrc8GW-tBqvmbk8N3EY/s1600/pt2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbFhvqnKS9giLxq0u9ztjFGv3RoYvRj8l2fsXIdKUkhegK6Mq3NWIXlN6AMmETUDlPc_t-6ZPcH2gA-PTm3mXUqnj9vgXzIhwAjRhVb0DHkFUhV5KGGchQw3xOrc8GW-tBqvmbk8N3EY/s320/pt2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Promise Tamang as Michael Jackson<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsd0imhLByACixyZKan0yS76AF3DVwjM5qhbvimRz0Ze7lPOx4gXKIZCGE1MSp4qs0wzNr_DLn35yPA60z8DfzvFi683ebz3xc04Df5d-ddHdcrXPb_rWDowVO5xsbkPVH-rVTphtFtHk/s1600/pt3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsd0imhLByACixyZKan0yS76AF3DVwjM5qhbvimRz0Ze7lPOx4gXKIZCGE1MSp4qs0wzNr_DLn35yPA60z8DfzvFi683ebz3xc04Df5d-ddHdcrXPb_rWDowVO5xsbkPVH-rVTphtFtHk/s320/pt3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Promise Tamang as Maryline Monroe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnBXnNpTLrOWSI3TXWINC2M7JYl6OcsJbknA8T3Xyr0BeayCq-MctcXGbwmTA1Yd8zC62JTyp5buxXmGkFb2LCwgy7tMvLN6KKD2KFfsyZz1tJMsq8F_gBu3Gua481_yvbUQ4WH-kVsQ/s1600/pt4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnBXnNpTLrOWSI3TXWINC2M7JYl6OcsJbknA8T3Xyr0BeayCq-MctcXGbwmTA1Yd8zC62JTyp5buxXmGkFb2LCwgy7tMvLN6KKD2KFfsyZz1tJMsq8F_gBu3Gua481_yvbUQ4WH-kVsQ/s320/pt4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this one ... gosh ... Promise Tamang as Angelina Jolie was the first video I watched of her and was loss at words for the enormous talent she has. Hats off, truly, to a fellow Nepali lass.<br />
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</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">Subscribe to Promise's Youtube Channel here> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">www.youtube.com/user/dope2111</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jOqvIgOZel704b92xC9JncKcLM2XLUEqyRJU8lYJzQl1FGfS_OT0WOOZI0-o-029U0w7P5os57tty1jL4VeBKYMFpM7BYxkabYTmIcn24E-nzariBlgg-0f72xhhVTS_UgD4LJfnVIw/s1600/nattu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jOqvIgOZel704b92xC9JncKcLM2XLUEqyRJU8lYJzQl1FGfS_OT0WOOZI0-o-029U0w7P5os57tty1jL4VeBKYMFpM7BYxkabYTmIcn24E-nzariBlgg-0f72xhhVTS_UgD4LJfnVIw/s400/nattu.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The extremely funny Nattu Shah with an equally enchanting voice will make you fall in love with her in an instant</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">VSubscribe to Nattu's Youtube Channel here> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">www.youtube.com/user/Natashah83</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfl1u7YpPWBXEci_Ns7KCQdwfdXvbAc5c0LY-ZL-dWTyTdss_hoxsi7-wrUWlUHd6fE4yPWfbm4y70dkLMkEYKwQvoUyO3Lbthjz-7ZfXs9OLnZQpnoX0omLe_W3SSvwBP-oJLQRUxHo/s1600/lex+limbu+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfl1u7YpPWBXEci_Ns7KCQdwfdXvbAc5c0LY-ZL-dWTyTdss_hoxsi7-wrUWlUHd6fE4yPWfbm4y70dkLMkEYKwQvoUyO3Lbthjz-7ZfXs9OLnZQpnoX0omLe_W3SSvwBP-oJLQRUxHo/s320/lex+limbu+.jpg" width="183" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And finally LEX LIMBU- who will awe you with his information collecting skills. Despite of living and studying in England how he manages to gather news concerning Nepal and Nepalese from around the globe is simply amazing. An A-class blogger in the truest sense, he is my internet hero. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">VIsit his website> lexlimbu.com today and you'll get what I mean. But if youre a Nepali and a net savvy Nepali at that, your chances of not knowing this celebrity blogger is pretty slim. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">And finally, how we’re surrounded by such rich cultural heritage all around us. Fact: The Patan Durbar Square was built even before the country US of A was founded by Mister Columbus, now that’s something to ponder upon, take pride in and perhaps aim at moving on the same pace of “genius-ness” that our people once did several centuries ago.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyM2WTDGY0BoHygK305Zwd7ZMaRnJ5CzsL97bnYCEbvntq_CCvYZbjprYlwCgDruHQSEGCnWRkDVb_rw8U24092GYAHvlDh8rtmeH_c3IBnPOKLi1QN6eVXVfVx-xuxpSchfI04Nw6ev0/s1600/Patan+Durbar+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyM2WTDGY0BoHygK305Zwd7ZMaRnJ5CzsL97bnYCEbvntq_CCvYZbjprYlwCgDruHQSEGCnWRkDVb_rw8U24092GYAHvlDh8rtmeH_c3IBnPOKLi1QN6eVXVfVx-xuxpSchfI04Nw6ev0/s400/Patan+Durbar+Square.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">This magnificent structure was built by Nepalese even before the United States of America was discovered.</span></span></span></span></td></tr>
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</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">So these were the few of the many reasons that I managed to squeeze in, in my word-limited column here. For more excuses to fall in love with this place all you have to do is explore your heart. I am sure, with time you will find a zillion reasons to love Katmandu a zillion times more. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwG0rrg3oPWT3llSrAMxsfI4hTZCMkPuIZz91W09b_5HG9xVnc90kjSZhOGCdBylGHmexSaGYifmfcRuyZxC-SNUFKVjX-Hu29VFn4mTwXcj53fOwwtL4ETwxXf3QfH5eIDnHZ7Il4UPI/s1600/ll.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwG0rrg3oPWT3llSrAMxsfI4hTZCMkPuIZz91W09b_5HG9xVnc90kjSZhOGCdBylGHmexSaGYifmfcRuyZxC-SNUFKVjX-Hu29VFn4mTwXcj53fOwwtL4ETwxXf3QfH5eIDnHZ7Il4UPI/s320/ll.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This world is exactly the way you want to see it. If you think it is a hell , you will see hell. If you think you see paradise, you will see paradise. Therefore the power is upto you to fill love in everything you see and you see nothing but a world abound with love. </td></tr>
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</div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-49214280891547083582011-06-19T10:16:00.000-07:002011-06-19T10:16:27.199-07:00Quirky Kathmandu Facts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">"If tsunami ever hit Kathmandu, you know what it’d be called? ” he said, one of my cousins. Slogging our way to a taxi stand, on the mid day summer sun, I wasn’t quite in the position to question his absurdity and so “I am all ears (with a false excitement in my voice)” is how I replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">“An earthquake would induce big swirls in our Bagmati, erm river? And it would rise and gulp the whole of Kathmandu city and that my friend would be called a “Gunami” – because you know, there is a lot of shit, literally I mean, in that water.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5L1JZ0bMgVDCuR7WPoHP9uxwFRVIFD1iLVoooF_AmOa3wweXc44L76dWfNhZS642riTGq76Hh7DIAu4FwFHW5mVC_WMX-xt-Ru6njPbZkssSigS5O0Ektxc-KoxY9K0lBbvH4PHrhz4/s1600/gu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5L1JZ0bMgVDCuR7WPoHP9uxwFRVIFD1iLVoooF_AmOa3wweXc44L76dWfNhZS642riTGq76Hh7DIAu4FwFHW5mVC_WMX-xt-Ru6njPbZkssSigS5O0Ektxc-KoxY9K0lBbvH4PHrhz4/s320/gu.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gunami Centre Point</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Hands down, the lamest thing I have ever heard in my life but I couldn’t stop laughing. And the little episode got me thinking, how we Kathmanduites, often take solace in humor and sarcasm to keep our sanity from falling apart. And despite the limitless tragedies catapulted towards us, water-electricity-fuel shortages, messy traffic, messier political dramas to name a few, we still make an effort to live awesome Kathmandu lives in our own little awesome ways, which is simply amazing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Which now brings me to my list of the interesting Kathmandu facts. Don’t be disappointed though as this is definitely not going to be one of those “Rani pokhari was built by King Pratap Malla” kinda fact, I give you quirky K-town facts truly “Kathmandu Chapters” style. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Everybody knows everybody:</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> So think twice before you decide to boast about owning those imaginary helicopters you don’t own, no one can succeed in being a stranger in Kathmandu for too long. A lie, a gossip, a rumor you started is sure to come back to bite you right on your you-know-what. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Everybody is on Facebook:</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This may be true of the world but the world maybe astounded of how true this is, of a country that is often portrayed as a poverty- stricken, civil-war-ridden, sad, pitiful nation. Facebook has indeed become an answer to the otherwise entertainment-lacking city of ours and if the recent Egyptian revolution that toppled the government, indeed started from Facebook as media reported, it’s highly likely, that Nepal could very well be next in line to follow suit. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxleRaqiEC7E4WP0okKZ-Txj4Qg0r3PCWyVVzBkagVd-9Ef5WGvoYp8RO4sn2G_ikLMsZw1HYBQzVYFWqC9VwdTKm9pCch6UvqmrdmIbcgXvgUgfyzBotOPQKGq6LLYWFFMfc2-KrOwBg/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxleRaqiEC7E4WP0okKZ-Txj4Qg0r3PCWyVVzBkagVd-9Ef5WGvoYp8RO4sn2G_ikLMsZw1HYBQzVYFWqC9VwdTKm9pCch6UvqmrdmIbcgXvgUgfyzBotOPQKGq6LLYWFFMfc2-KrOwBg/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Facebook revolution against Mubarak, Egypt</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpfN06maDopq6aM-Fmq8HT04lySBs7j_R5nkga1TW4F9xFY07b0mey6hV0ngT8NEWgQUSwwJQFpC7szgDuRxHz9wx_Y0CA4-BZkDNFfzHEbHI3uojKkcCKm_a5bZXQZcuirajW5ga0wg/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpfN06maDopq6aM-Fmq8HT04lySBs7j_R5nkga1TW4F9xFY07b0mey6hV0ngT8NEWgQUSwwJQFpC7szgDuRxHz9wx_Y0CA4-BZkDNFfzHEbHI3uojKkcCKm_a5bZXQZcuirajW5ga0wg/s400/2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Facebook Revoltuion against unjust, Egypt</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS3ADIC33JjTUbmW1LaGrof8QZvAFVg_7lBWyIu2oQqq_rXOT6s4rk5ENSpw0_3rwGFVafr5wKvCjBQ_EwbEsW4pUw_H_Ofk_c5GySm8JuyFD1hl-Gb3rmGqMKpQdCmkRlXi4Owqjdk7U/s1600/h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS3ADIC33JjTUbmW1LaGrof8QZvAFVg_7lBWyIu2oQqq_rXOT6s4rk5ENSpw0_3rwGFVafr5wKvCjBQ_EwbEsW4pUw_H_Ofk_c5GySm8JuyFD1hl-Gb3rmGqMKpQdCmkRlXi4Owqjdk7U/s400/h.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Facebook campaign against lazy CA memebers, Nepal</td></tr>
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Too many models: </span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Perhaps there are too many pervert photographers out there or too many ladies looking to be famous, whatever may be the truth, it aint a lie that every other pretty girl in Kathmandu has, is or will pose in front of a camera as a potential model. Forget fashion capitals of the world, the common streets of KTM are playing the runway to our countless models. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf1bGkU4H-ilL9rn14zB3SrTXNpuA_gzgzH81SdMxAZwf5K3jk6mg-XHYhbU17pWC_hQp3iaWSyokV6X7ts70pqc9ak1RUgbycf5ewLdG-Hvm2TdChOceiyy1ZwHGa3Kh08ngR9c7AoAI/s1600/hhaa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf1bGkU4H-ilL9rn14zB3SrTXNpuA_gzgzH81SdMxAZwf5K3jk6mg-XHYhbU17pWC_hQp3iaWSyokV6X7ts70pqc9ak1RUgbycf5ewLdG-Hvm2TdChOceiyy1ZwHGa3Kh08ngR9c7AoAI/s400/hhaa.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh dear god ... like seriously?!!</td></tr>
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Every body is a CEO or a Director:</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> One of my former bosses often said how it’s a boon in disguise to be living in a third world country, “where people see lack of development I see an opportunity to cash in” he used to say and how true he was. And almost everybody who dared to venture out with a business project of their own are now the proud CEOs and Directors walking in plentiful number around Kathmandu. Of course, chances are that more than half the composite of the KTM CEOs could very well have their designation just limited to their business cards but then again, that’s why we’re a third world country. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">We're charitable:</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> I mean, every new event I hear about speaks of contributing a sum of their profits to some charity, and as long as the charity isn’t there secret built-in money chambers, I say god bless ‘em. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Girls greet each other European style:</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> You know, “the mmuah-mmuahs in the either side of the cheeks”. I don’t know who introduced that style here in KTM but I can tell you, it caught on like a contagious flu and looks like it will be here for the longest time. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF3dg3E3jwq-4Vp4T4yPWuHVARLHTEcUDS650-IQwVXwEScmiNNiPNio2PRk2LD9w87k984j4cyMPvo3hVCQrYm6nWOZut-6mZAjPfEYVcVyon3_bFGPYzRlOXoKCSLfNQqjLvOb_juyI/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF3dg3E3jwq-4Vp4T4yPWuHVARLHTEcUDS650-IQwVXwEScmiNNiPNio2PRk2LD9w87k984j4cyMPvo3hVCQrYm6nWOZut-6mZAjPfEYVcVyon3_bFGPYzRlOXoKCSLfNQqjLvOb_juyI/s320/1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and mmm.. in some cases I have seen guys greeting each other this way which I find .. how do I say it .. erm ... i guess amusingly entertaining is the right word ;) </td></tr>
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Contagious business policies:</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> And talking about contagious, business policies in K-town follow an interesting contagious pattern. It doesn’t take long for a hit business venture to be copied by several others in a jiffy. Take the mushrooming shopping malls or housing complexes for instances.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Celebrityville: </span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">And finally, what makes our Kathmandu even more interesting is how this place is the ultimate celebrityville. I mean come on, even bankers make it as celebrities here, all you need to do is take a stroll around Durbarmarg long enough and one is sure to spot a 100 celebrities before they call it a day.</span></span></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">So, there you go, these I think are some of the features that gives our city an interesting character of it’s own. Yes, Kathmandu indeed is awesomely awesome, while it may well not be all that true, it doesn’t hurt in believing that it is. Cheers to the spirit of our quirky Kathmandu. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.3pt 56.65pt 85.0pt 113.35pt 141.7pt 170.05pt 198.4pt 226.75pt 255.1pt 283.45pt 311.8pt 340.15pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
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</div><!--EndFragment--> </div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-78158928258688937372011-06-03T23:17:00.000-07:002011-06-03T23:17:58.000-07:00ALL YOU SINGLE LADIES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><!--StartFragment--> <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Rare indeed. Single ladies are indeed a rare breed. With the social networking sites quadrupling the size of our social circles by the day, the options get endless and the temptations get higher- temptations much like the one you would have when shoe shopping, that while you’d know what you like, you’d still give in to trying other pairs available, just because it comes in your size.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KWlCh81ruyTW93byOyPycfwDEtFgvogKOFZigFacGm0GglDsw29dh3RYRU3STsh_2lHj9-QpSbHMnKY2sysfU2Nongqg-Bi9P7RedRyKGoQfWXjMzdUHeQz5qnbHtu7-PiucL_W4vto/s1600/a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KWlCh81ruyTW93byOyPycfwDEtFgvogKOFZigFacGm0GglDsw29dh3RYRU3STsh_2lHj9-QpSbHMnKY2sysfU2Nongqg-Bi9P7RedRyKGoQfWXjMzdUHeQz5qnbHtu7-PiucL_W4vto/s400/a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hmmm... how do I choose the shoes that's best for me without trying them on...? ;)</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">And after that totally twisted dating analogy, let me zero right in on one of the recent chapters of my Kathmandu life.(Info piece to all my blog readers, this article was my latest entry for my column "Kathmandu Chapters" published every week on Friday weekly...) </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> It was one of my closest friends’ 22<sup>nd</sup> birthday and a couple of us girls decided to stay over at her place. After a hectic work week, I was really looking forward to the non-stop giggle fest we’d have, the mindless chats on non-issues we’d whip up – to sum up, I was ready to let go of all my sanity in the name of girl fun that weekend. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kyMG1rMTevwBtpYrvnIM0-MydvQyq2jdNzk8_n0y32XzmFOFmN9yHmTznZHrgA7bufOEd9wEsHLbTU9GktV8aFwHoDuQKLWPjJXmyNSe6D-Qo2D9I8htibKBkoS3zNwOuAFBBEfA_bw/s1600/c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kyMG1rMTevwBtpYrvnIM0-MydvQyq2jdNzk8_n0y32XzmFOFmN9yHmTznZHrgA7bufOEd9wEsHLbTU9GktV8aFwHoDuQKLWPjJXmyNSe6D-Qo2D9I8htibKBkoS3zNwOuAFBBEfA_bw/s320/c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">But Yah! All of that didn’t quite go the way I presumed it would. I had fun though and why wouldn’t I? Girls-night-in right? That’s a guaranteed fun. WRONG – and that is where I missed the loophole. I completely disregarded the fact how all my friends came with one boyfriend each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And there it was, phone convos overheard,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Hello boo” in the morning, “ miss you baby” in the night- I felt like I was being sucked into an I-love-my-boyfriend-club, and here is the best part, without a boyfriend.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And while I am happy for my friends who have found someone so dear to them, I was in no frame of mind to give up my singlehood and the perks that come with it, all in the name of love- well not at least now. And for all those single ladies out there taking out time to invest in themselves to becoming a stronger individual before settling down, I will tell you it’s going to be hard.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Because there will always be a friend in your life who has the best boyfriend in the world both of who, makes your life look really sad. And if you’re not the one to fall for such flaky- immature comparisons then I will have you know, that your other friends will always have a-friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend who is just perfect for you. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Oh our concerned friends- can’t hate them but at times difficult to love them either, but despite of all the fight one might put up to remain single, it is only a matter of time before we’re hitched again. After all, that is how natured intended to be, so why protest? The best we can do in this situation is to smart up. And by smart up I mean, not compromising in leading a fabulous single life but all the while giving some space for those who want to audition playing your perfect man. And for that , you really gotta know the “men-kind” here watch out for some of these popular types. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b>The player :</b> Oh he is heaven sent. Your instincts probably always warned you of this one but his sweet talks, the suave moves, the cute smile and the wit and the charm always got in the way. Ladies, if he is too-god-to-be-true, he is a lie. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglE7wBvGDCjMlkviqiuGa3motRNqT-c2NtJ3iCERUonDMjg57fpqQLFX4NXivDHEGLJ1ychTS9qIhRdY5EvdxJddead-Ej_zZ3wweGDAw4ekmRLj2UURPuRGy-5It_BeH2ZKpOCiVHcL8/s1600/d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglE7wBvGDCjMlkviqiuGa3motRNqT-c2NtJ3iCERUonDMjg57fpqQLFX4NXivDHEGLJ1ychTS9qIhRdY5EvdxJddead-Ej_zZ3wweGDAw4ekmRLj2UURPuRGy-5It_BeH2ZKpOCiVHcL8/s320/d.jpg" width="311" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b>The desperate:</b> Their aura stinks of desperation the moment you lay your eyes on them. Always confessing of their abounding love to you and pursuing you like a million dollar lottery, chances are for a fraction of a moment, you might feel bad to turn down all the love he is promising but don’t give in. They were only looking to latch on to someone like a leech, after all. Stay away. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Gun-TPTxHmhnGoEavF63tQi8Y_SpOEN9KHEsySb8u9amqnv86v9SbF2aI9zmDv0FOXGAKPPPVT471-Klr-Ibl-dmL7uTpaJnqJ4lJfW2Bd5QYo1cNzapqUuihmliFmtPXxkfDsTjaj0/s1600/e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Gun-TPTxHmhnGoEavF63tQi8Y_SpOEN9KHEsySb8u9amqnv86v9SbF2aI9zmDv0FOXGAKPPPVT471-Klr-Ibl-dmL7uTpaJnqJ4lJfW2Bd5QYo1cNzapqUuihmliFmtPXxkfDsTjaj0/s320/e.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b>The non-committing:</b> And as long as these men confess of they’re commitment to non-commit I applaud their honesty and if you look at it closely, they can actually be a real boon to the single gals. Here is a guy much like the Jackpot machine who is fun to hang out with while in a social setting, just don’t think of taking it home because it would just be a big misfit. Spot the non-committer and have fun while it lasts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b>The gay:</b> A gal’s best friend, gay guys are great to hang out with when you miss on having a man in your life and yet want to continue being single. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMOBpTjuQnc-luRBXILMzQ-_HzLtlXWgNqqLb_siRSXCkDpgFs1piYx-egd3xtgyaqsw2deEFl9yJBWjHtg_5qpnOJ-IL5ViAYLuwsaRAroDVl1F8cIxecql4m-Iz0y7Gd7oGWiyBFI3M/s1600/h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMOBpTjuQnc-luRBXILMzQ-_HzLtlXWgNqqLb_siRSXCkDpgFs1piYx-egd3xtgyaqsw2deEFl9yJBWjHtg_5qpnOJ-IL5ViAYLuwsaRAroDVl1F8cIxecql4m-Iz0y7Gd7oGWiyBFI3M/s320/h.jpg" width="188" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><b>The normal ones:</b> And as much as we’re wired to believe that there aren’t good guys out there, the truth is, there are. They don’t attract you like the players nor disgust you like the desperates, they just seem very ordinary. They might not enter your life with all the magic and the sparks that you expected of, your episodes with him may not be as perfect as your favorite romantic movie moments but when they do knock your door, they're only there for you. To hold your hand, to admire the essence of the real you, and you join together to be each other's strengths, you become a team. Of course he is no God and come with his vices intact, only you know it in your heart he is a genuine soul. This guy is worth exploring possibilities with, only he is a rare, rare breed too. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_cNXnzHCTH_E3X2wgVBkuTrSW77j2Ty-eNZYT0FWMkqdWStfhHV4QsezB9I5cOa6DOlT3YxcuaEYLSJ-zTaH2yeoSPNuH5F-k6jgM_ttNjMGlVi2CA8itkXXK6l2yZ3cbM_CAFzSDDU/s1600/holding+hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_cNXnzHCTH_E3X2wgVBkuTrSW77j2Ty-eNZYT0FWMkqdWStfhHV4QsezB9I5cOa6DOlT3YxcuaEYLSJ-zTaH2yeoSPNuH5F-k6jgM_ttNjMGlVi2CA8itkXXK6l2yZ3cbM_CAFzSDDU/s320/holding+hands.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">And they’re countless other types of men too- the I –know-it-all ones, the mean ones, the sensitive ones, the arrogant ones, the cheap ones and the list is endless. Just know, that the time when you’re single is the best time to not only reassess yourself but also to do a thorough reassessing, of the types of men out there. At the end of the day, you're the only one who knows what works best for you and that is when you can stop shoe- shopping in discounted aisles after you find the perfect pair that the universe custom made just for you. If you know what I mean *wink*wink*</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_q9lq7jmQ1LTxoaF0hUcQYI5uDzC3Q4rbPnyFYVw8bZ_vH4Zuulj4rZ8ES4tEKrWoRZQP19KwodsBUlf9bMUHCLTFSFHGMin_NQ9NA2JEUNCoynA60swTmKwrV_6aeR7ucGZUiG7-jA/s1600/ross+and+rachel+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_q9lq7jmQ1LTxoaF0hUcQYI5uDzC3Q4rbPnyFYVw8bZ_vH4Zuulj4rZ8ES4tEKrWoRZQP19KwodsBUlf9bMUHCLTFSFHGMin_NQ9NA2JEUNCoynA60swTmKwrV_6aeR7ucGZUiG7-jA/s1600/ross+and+rachel+.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite on-screen couple of all times ..ROSS AND RACHEL <3</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Well then, until you hunt down your “the one” I wish you all the single ladies reading this, all the best and also, I suggest that you enjoy the highs of being hit on while you’re still in the transit. Nothing like it. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgponuzbC3uijq8gFYmL5jSzW6EWOdg3liwXx1jiKb1-gAmWAxPyo8cciMO6dtREf6VebP1suFjsZ6Q5aMoUpCSl8qoBgvkOR5IR9ro1sOHr70a7kqTa1G9I1iiR6g7nAu845lew2QAVOQ/s1600/123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgponuzbC3uijq8gFYmL5jSzW6EWOdg3liwXx1jiKb1-gAmWAxPyo8cciMO6dtREf6VebP1suFjsZ6Q5aMoUpCSl8qoBgvkOR5IR9ro1sOHr70a7kqTa1G9I1iiR6g7nAu845lew2QAVOQ/s640/123.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a lighter note :) </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><!--EndFragment--> </div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-68963624672841230512011-05-31T05:06:00.000-07:002011-05-31T05:13:41.888-07:00MY FIRST EDITORIAL PUBLISHED<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbTdzEyPgCl_V5pZlLkBtT5S1xUgLcz-bEVIorP52Ey-2SiSFH2Ys22WnGxi0lyRAetmGRyWm0ubpq8jMxTj1yhF7PZQBnQoOnLOfqOcsb3USCozT5gmwo8yPG_-BJ4Tc-xO2usNUVww/s1600/editorial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbTdzEyPgCl_V5pZlLkBtT5S1xUgLcz-bEVIorP52Ey-2SiSFH2Ys22WnGxi0lyRAetmGRyWm0ubpq8jMxTj1yhF7PZQBnQoOnLOfqOcsb3USCozT5gmwo8yPG_-BJ4Tc-xO2usNUVww/s640/editorial.jpg" width="487" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the first time I was asked to write an Editorial ... and its out in the Teenz June Issue. One dream task I can happily cross off my list. Several more to go. :) and erm.. yah that signature was a disaster even for the 54th time lol ... :D<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;">(And in case the page there had too small a font .. which am pretty sure it is ... here, I give you just the text bit) </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Well, hello there Teenz readers!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Hope everything is superb with you all. And why wouldn’t things be superb? After all , you’re young, you’re educated and have your entire future ahead of you that you can shape, design and color, wait here’s the best part, just the way you like it. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">“Not really. Life as a teenager is a drag” you might complain. And of course, with all the exams pressure, the minimal pocket money to survive in and the whole need to conduct the act of “coolness” in front of friends all the while, being constantly pestered by nagging guardians…phew! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">TEENAGE- yes it indeed could very well be just an over-rated term. I feel you. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">But, nonetheless, ask any adult and they will tell you that teenage years were in fact a very special time of their lives. These are the years of your very firsts; your first crush, your first gang of friends, your first college, your first job. And there are some other unpleasant firsts to deal with too like your first pimple, your first break up (although really hoping not)- these are the years that demands you to get out of your comfort zone to pursue new challenges. While it can be scary, it’s definitely not short of excitement if taken with a spirit of adventure. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">And therefore, we here at Teenz, hope to do just that. We hope to inform, inspire, educate and entertain you and most importantly be your friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Dear readers, this copy you have in your hands is the 5<sup>th</sup> edition of Teenz for the month of June. And although, I just joined the team and have little idea about the contents of this issue, I have full faith in the team of Teenz that it will have compiled in this issue nothing but the best. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">So, you and I, lets flip through the pages of June Teenz together shall we? I bet it’s going be a lot of fun. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">And well, until the next issue, we hope to have gotten enough comments and suggestions from your part to make Teenz the magazine you will love. Help us grow as you grow with us. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">We shall see you again with our July issue soon enough. Take good care of yourselves until then. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Much love, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Samriddhi Rai <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Sub-Editor <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Teenz <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br />
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</tbody></table></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-56939350055638470632011-05-24T09:58:00.000-07:002011-05-24T17:48:33.743-07:00BEING SINGLE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpOsyHhshd9lynytZ2Rhqqxqzs4SJdeCGsMshl8oTxfWECZLW6rWbGJ4gs-DAXrcUuGTwy_Dnsn34fXMU9MqTbTSJyM_Td-nwWDDEQZrgZttUMJ7E20jr2nEBUQ626KjyN58HtpfxU48/s1600/ss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpOsyHhshd9lynytZ2Rhqqxqzs4SJdeCGsMshl8oTxfWECZLW6rWbGJ4gs-DAXrcUuGTwy_Dnsn34fXMU9MqTbTSJyM_Td-nwWDDEQZrgZttUMJ7E20jr2nEBUQ626KjyN58HtpfxU48/s320/ss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">Being single both has its drawbacks and its perks. Here, check it out. I actually made a comparison table. Feels like am back to school. <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> </div><table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-insideh-themecolor: text1; mso-border-insideh: .5pt solid black; mso-border-insidev-themecolor: text1; mso-border-insidev: .5pt solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 191;"><tbody>
<tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0;"> <td style="border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">DRAWBACKS </div></td> <td style="border-left: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">PERKS </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 1;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Being single means, You don’t have a special someone to go out on movies, parties or any other fun events/places with. And you might not always have a date in “standby” mode for you and even if you do score a date, chances are they might turn out to be weird and boring which sucks big time.</div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">On the contrary, you get to go alone to all these fun events/places and be the hot single cruising the crowd. PS. Be ready to strike some interesting conversations with some awesome strangers (awesome because nothing hurts by assuming that). </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 2;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Being single means, You don’t have a special someone to call or text just for the hell of it. No one to ask you where you are, what you ate for lunch or give you a second opinion on the Rs. 200 worth of wayfarers you’ve been eyeing for a long time. (FYI … Yah I did buy one of those and I can tell you, its awe---oh wait for it--- some … barney Stinson style<span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> )</div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">But you have Facebook, who always asks you “what’s on your mind”? You just type things there and you immediately connect to hundreds of your friends out there. Now come on … one person vs hundreds, to give you company and share your thoughts with??? Who would you choose? It’s like asking, would you settle for just one ordinary pair of shoes or go for an entire wardrobe- and may I add unique and varied and interesting and colorful wardrobe. Yah you know the answer. </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 3;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Being in love is a wonderful feeling. The world seems rosier, people around you are a lot nicer and you tend to smile a lot and are just so happy for no specific reason. Oh no wait, there’s a reason- the reason being, you’re in love. And when you’re single *poof * all of that is gone. You’re back to that old, cruel, evil-evil world. </div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">But guess what? It’s your hormones messing up with your head. Did you know that in the beginning of a relationship human minds releases endorphins also known as the “happy hormone” causing you to believe you’re happy and partially (fully in some cases) disabling your mind to think clearly? Where do you think “love is blind” phrase came from? It was science all along. And once this phase is over, it wont take long before you start noticing your, (may I dare say) better halves’ yellow toenails, fake eyelashes and/or hairy nostrils. And if you still insist on living in a rosier world, here’s a tip: go get yourself one of those rose-tinted glasses… I bet it will cost you no more than 200 bucks. (Rs. Really, but bucks sounds cooler,no :P) </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 4;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Being single means, you wont have anybody posting up sweet messages on your facebook wall. No one to share your profile picture with. Your facebook fairytale love story goes tragic. </div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Oh wake up! You think people care half the time who you’re sharing your ilu-ilus with? Unless, of course, if youre Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie which am guessing youre not. Com’on now , being single in facebook and having just solo pictures in your profile means you’re independent and most importantly an individual. Well that is how you came into this world, why, what made you think being a Siamese-like-couple was fun-ner. It’s not. </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 5;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Being single, means there is gonna be no one around when you wanna hug, /cuddle/ kiss/caress. No one to shower you with attention and/ or love. Your world is a cold, lonely place and with each passing day your belief on you dying alone just gets stronger and stronger. </div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Hey! Your parents didn’t work so hard on bringing you up so that you could be this pathetic love-craving loser. There are enough people who love you and want to see you happy. And most importantly if you don’t love yourself enough, it will be hard for others to do so. So, you need occasional hugs? Go to your friends. You wanna cuddle? get a teddy bear. You wanna kiss? Oh now, that has to wait until you start dating someone else again… and if you are the one who cannot wait and believe in pouncing at the next stranger you meet then please stop reading this .. this blogpost is definitely not for you. </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 6;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Talking in the same line, being single would mean no one to hold your hands with. And every time you’d see a happy couple walking down the street , holding their hands, you swore you died a little inside. Oh sadness!</div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Dude! You’re not a three-year-old kid are you? You didn’t just learn to walk yesterday did you? Then why do you need to hold hands?… grow up. Plus, there is that possible sweaty hands to watch out for. Ugh. Not cool. </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 7;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Being single also means, you’d have no reason to buy that hot new dress or that oh-so-cool shirt, because of course if you don’t have a “special” someone to wear it for then why waste the money on it right? Being single would also mean, starting to eat like a pig because seriously for whom to stay fit and in shape? Plus the food is comforting and a true friend during times of loneliness. </div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Oh my god !!! you do that? Shame on you. And again I repeat, “if you don’t have the ability to love yourself, people will find it hard to love you too.” So pull yourself together and invest and cultivate into being an independent solo person. Remember, people aren’t a fan of those wild, thorn-filled, unmanaged shrubs. It’s the big, green, upright (better if its fruit bearing) trees that people seek shelter in. Be that big tree for yourself and for those around you. </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 8;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Being single would mean, you don’t have that one person that you can talk just about anything with. You’d confess embarrassing moments, you’d share your deepest secrets, you’d yell at each other, you’d quarrel for no reason because at the end you’d know they’re still for you. Being single, would mean missing out on a person who will be there for you no matter what- your security blanket your comfort cushion. </div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Oh my! Now that’s pure human torture. Why would you expect to be fed with perspectives from just one person? That aint healthy. Plus you can always splurge your personal rants on blogs that would be read by thousands. So, you wanna share embarrassing moments, open an anonymous blog. Or channel your frustration or whatever you’re feeling by writing a song or a poem .. that way you’re exploring new talents along the way. And FACT: people die. Oh but the world wide web is eternal. Imagine having your thoughts and moments scribbled out there in the eternity of the www and the universe for years and decades and centuries. You’d be long gone but your words and thoughts would be still alive in the internet for generations to see ( that is if the world doesn’t end in 2012) Now isn’t that awesome? </div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 9;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Being single would mean not having anyone to whisper those sweet nothings to. Not having anyone to miss. Not having anyone to take those long walks with, possibly planning a life together. The dream house you’d build, giving names to those unborn kids you’d have, deciding which school they’d go. Oh being single means only having to plan what you’re having for your next meal and that’s just sad. </div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Oh for the love of god. You call of that being in love? That’s not being in love. That’s being desperate and clingy and unrealistic and just dreamy which aint practical … snap out of it before you ruin each other lives and steal each other’s independence. Do you think FACEBOOK the biggest-most-powerful inventions of our times would have been created if Mark Zuckerberg wasted his time doing all of that? I don’t think so. Use your head , put your mind to good use …. And once you become successful at whatever you choose do .. there will be a thousand people readily begging to hear you blabber any bullcrap you have to say. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div></td> </tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 10; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;"> <td style="border-top: none; border: 1.0pt; border: solid black; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">Yes, you will miss out on a lot of things if you’re single.</div></td> <td style="border-bottom: 1.0pt; border-bottom: solid black; border-left: none; border-right: 1.0pt; border-right: solid black; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: .5pt; mso-border-alt: solid black; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: text1; mso-border-left-alt: .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid black; mso-border-left-themecolor: text1; mso-border-right-themecolor: text1; mso-border-themecolor: text1; mso-border-top-alt: .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid black; mso-border-top-themecolor: text1; padding: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; width: 212.9pt;" valign="top" width="213"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-outline-level: 1;">But also, you will miss out on a lot of yourself if you are not single. </div></td> </tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">That said, yes am quite certain, that being in a relationship has its awesomeness too. But as of now I truly believe that single life rocks … it always has. After all the whole point of being single means taking time out to revise yourself and work into being the whole, unique individual you were meant to be.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
I wont, however, completely rule out the idea of soul mate or the perfect match … may be it is out there … may be it isn’t … and people shouldn’t stress, because in the end you should know that the one most important relationship you will ever have in your life and the one that you have to constantly nourish and take real good care of, is the relationship you have with yourself.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
This blogpost was for all you single folks out there, who have been hurt , who have not found the love of their life, who have been separated, who are stuck in the wrong relationship and especially those on my facebook who constantly post “i-am-dying-because-the-love-of-my-life-left-me” kinda status updates. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">I hope this helped. That ,or chances are that you now hate me more than ever. In any case, Im standing by what Ive written here and I say cheers to the awesomeness singlehood is. Yes being single is- legen….wait for it…..dary … Barney Stinson Style <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-61068960827138978422011-05-22T03:09:00.000-07:002011-05-22T03:46:02.406-07:00WEIRD PEOPLE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, as I was catching up with a bunch of pals having my afternoon latte at New Orleans (yes the restaurant), I was bothered by a man’s constant stare directed towards me. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I stared right back at this tiny, middle aged looking man and my strong reaction must’ve scared him because he looked away and suddenly I felt bad for doing that. “Oh the poor man. Why’d I have to be so rude?” but continued on the jabbers with my friends. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Moments later, however, the man looked at me again. This time with a smile across his face and I felt it was only appropriate to smile back at him. But oh the horror! He took the little exchange of smiles as an invitation of some kind. Horrified, as this stranger made his way to my table and even before I could warn my friends about the episode, he uttered, “Hello, I want to show you something.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Which was followed by my very, very loud “A WHATTT”?? And with a somewhat apologetic expression on his face he explained “No, no. I want you to just go through my album here. Please.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And there it was. The magic word “please” accompanied by rather magical looking photo album presented in front of me. Did I have a choice to turn it down? Sure. But like Pandora who couldn’t resist opening her forbidden box of evil, my friends and I were intrigued by the mystery that lay before us demanding to be unraveled. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And as I opened the album with an unusual anticipation, there it was the first picture- the man with Niruta Singh, the actress. DISSAPOINTED! Not with the actress but with the picture especially when what we were hoping for was something out-of-the-world-amusing and this was clearly not. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> And then I flipped again and saw a series of similar pictures of this man with all the possible “famous” Nepali people. There was Jharana Bajracharya, Rajesh Hamal, Nima Rumba, oh everyone and I’l say the album was pretty bulky which meant that this man had had quite a successful run at whatever he was doing. Only, I had no clue what I was doing but the streak of happiness in his eyes told it was worth it- oh well, for him. So, before any more weird moments were created, we decided to leave. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Thankyou” I said. “Your album was lovely” and got out of there. </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Oh what a weirdo”, I thought, as I began a mental rundown of the list of other people I find weird. Here are some. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">1.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>People who wear sunglasses indoors. I mean come on. There is a reason why it’s called the SUN-glasses.</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOvvUmZNKk3F5mBJNKMBmBEPsfrsOSJX7t_NEFxCH4uMlifIg_BuFWulFFUhT84NyhfanPZ2MPBNyHIcCAMbt-A16UdWfX5OExpm3csgm3JPrTZGYwj-jZ1Edm8xQNw6Jc3RfHlEm_lgs/s1600/w3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOvvUmZNKk3F5mBJNKMBmBEPsfrsOSJX7t_NEFxCH4uMlifIg_BuFWulFFUhT84NyhfanPZ2MPBNyHIcCAMbt-A16UdWfX5OExpm3csgm3JPrTZGYwj-jZ1Edm8xQNw6Jc3RfHlEm_lgs/s1600/w3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OH MY GOD-AFFI</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"> </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"> 2. People faking accents. We know they’re faking it how come they don’t?</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">3.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>Those random acquaintances that shamelessly ask you for money.</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">4.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"></span> People who have the best car, the sleekest gadget, the expensive house, the big pay check … possibly, just all in their heads. People who boast constantly weird me out. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">5.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span> People who’d rather talk to your chest or your thighs than you or your face. But chances are they’re not being weird. Just being men.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw__d84TsEnaTLYLNne24J8CM0hf2Khx5DakhA3V5jr6bBapa_VukThdoRaMYFyHulOLRMos-E1XmVS5cZuGkA5PuSe1O-3tTwf9dXxyZ2XHc-mj3PLk1WNF4yh_utkwgREOnPVh8TtHM/s1600/w6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw__d84TsEnaTLYLNne24J8CM0hf2Khx5DakhA3V5jr6bBapa_VukThdoRaMYFyHulOLRMos-E1XmVS5cZuGkA5PuSe1O-3tTwf9dXxyZ2XHc-mj3PLk1WNF4yh_utkwgREOnPVh8TtHM/s320/w6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">6.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>LADY GAGA. Oh she strengthens my belief in the existence of aliens, altogether. </div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQoTaMqz76jRXQdmsCzuSYEb579eO7jpZqKBFSSXz_vNaFURjiN3WrnCoUfzg5DlzSLijUd9P_FjMTA_GUKWCi3lMEaAeiDc6v6ZJ8pp6bS4urNwQfUgqUz7WTnLuIZCBxpbXbyfjcXA0/s1600/ww.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQoTaMqz76jRXQdmsCzuSYEb579eO7jpZqKBFSSXz_vNaFURjiN3WrnCoUfzg5DlzSLijUd9P_FjMTA_GUKWCi3lMEaAeiDc6v6ZJ8pp6bS4urNwQfUgqUz7WTnLuIZCBxpbXbyfjcXA0/s320/ww.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">7.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>And rounding off my weird people list is a bunch of Nepali girls who pose like this. Seriously girls, if your bum is hurting you should be at a clinic not in a photo studio. Duh! </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VyiyRNm0tWo2UyikEI6wcets9V3K0deWpugwM8IVredccp9pYj_7xavB64fXOkBRiyZxVgOTyi_ekqgJG6hoVaorLC2OXF9FjhhcwiqTubMy9NfEMBNDe7x7dJ-o9RN9RItlyB7j9Ek/s1600/w2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VyiyRNm0tWo2UyikEI6wcets9V3K0deWpugwM8IVredccp9pYj_7xavB64fXOkBRiyZxVgOTyi_ekqgJG6hoVaorLC2OXF9FjhhcwiqTubMy9NfEMBNDe7x7dJ-o9RN9RItlyB7j9Ek/s320/w2.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFijRzAK08xqwvYfvBCxulDm3yI1h7uJgOJOVQysOR1d_HhZu-dgLjlTK4KfZo4-QCRqJKIl9_wIyjGZ8OVG8-4nH4M5brf4DXcmpmqhb90XPvRcYhgGp_TAjDJHTJ0MkARntNBuC1-ks/s1600/w4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFijRzAK08xqwvYfvBCxulDm3yI1h7uJgOJOVQysOR1d_HhZu-dgLjlTK4KfZo4-QCRqJKIl9_wIyjGZ8OVG8-4nH4M5brf4DXcmpmqhb90XPvRcYhgGp_TAjDJHTJ0MkARntNBuC1-ks/s320/w4.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BUM MARO BUM</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">That said, I wonder, does these people that we call psycho, thees, ali-ali off know that they’re all of that? Or are these people, unlike us, the unpretentious honest souls? I will never know. But what I do know is that without them, this world would be a boring place to live in. So, I say, cheers to the wierdos of the past, present and future they definitely make our lives a tad colorful. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-35124280585787380112011-05-09T04:26:00.000-07:002011-05-09T04:32:35.407-07:00I AM THE RAMBO KID<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdaQ1KgAybQRU7nbMaeJm3hjgn7eG7-s7qnib3cfRr3I7sg1BQPxKaVyiQaSZl8qz1WmRofDzDgjB0mGJ162CyhUu_8gHdVRgYReEQyRE7wuL8fp_8EyE8SS2jXFNmVMnJkWwPFhkBYz0/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdaQ1KgAybQRU7nbMaeJm3hjgn7eG7-s7qnib3cfRr3I7sg1BQPxKaVyiQaSZl8qz1WmRofDzDgjB0mGJ162CyhUu_8gHdVRgYReEQyRE7wuL8fp_8EyE8SS2jXFNmVMnJkWwPFhkBYz0/s640/blog.jpg" width="547" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Published:December 2010</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Dreams; there could be many, there could be one. For me however, participating in beauty pageants was never really one.</span></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Growing up in the wilderness of a place like Godavari with two wildly adventurous elder brothers, hiking up the hills every weekend, playing hide and seek in the dense forests, splashing up on the fresh river water… no one would’ve even guessed I would get into pageants. My scholarly family of teachers definitely didn’t see this coming. But oh well, I guess this is what makes life beautiful, its unpredictability. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My mom was heavily pregnant, she said, when I was in her womb. Everybody thought she’d give birth to a twin and then there was just me; me alone, born in a warm august night. Three point some KGs at birth, an uber healthy child that I was and how that uber healthiness never left by my side all the way to my adolescence. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">“Rambo” as I was lovingly called in my neighborhood, I loved my boy haircut, those torn out sneakers from braving all my adventures and my little white bicycle that so strongly stood by me through all those tattered trails. I still remember my dad installing two additional little wheels in my bicycle to help me support my balance because, as it is I was famous for injuring my self and also because I was only 5.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSyzHv-seMmvoF3UL4dwj0P4F2fcSTJjyau9VQgO-665rvgEuJBS8ccD6qx2ibprTExz0mc-RH_W7AE2lCPp4ORbMRz3Y6Zvpru6XA5piviB9BvFhIpAQla2nioYs2Bdu0lxHFH4-pd0/s1600/blog+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSyzHv-seMmvoF3UL4dwj0P4F2fcSTJjyau9VQgO-665rvgEuJBS8ccD6qx2ibprTExz0mc-RH_W7AE2lCPp4ORbMRz3Y6Zvpru6XA5piviB9BvFhIpAQla2nioYs2Bdu0lxHFH4-pd0/s320/blog+3.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> To recall my many adventures as the “Rambo Kid”, there was this one time when I slipped my self into an almost 30 feet long, cemented slide and wait here is the best part, I got in it headfirst; broke my only milk tooth. Then there was this one-day, when I saw my brothers and his friends making plunges at a big sand pit. I know it is “long jump” now but then all I understood in my head was that I had to make the fiercest jump to impress my audience. Therefore, with no fair warning to anyone whatsoever, I remember running the fastest that I possibly could and making a leap only to be landed on my tongue. I cry and cry, with all that sand in my mouth and my eldest brother comes to my rescue and wipes it all off with a bundle of socks. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">To which, by the way, I only recently confronted him, asking why socks? “I mean weren’t there anything else that you could have done that with?” And he goes, “No it was freshly washed socks. It was clearly an emergency and the socks were right there hanging out in the sun”. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I let out a big sigh … and have been trying to move on from the incident ever since. But it never fails to bring a smile on my face every time I think about it. Joys of childhood? I think so. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdTrMG4OBtiR9x4niLQa_G2F3n7ubMiydZ9SRKZ7Mn33CbtUwyaXrjzCpo2Dgd-ZygYMybr4Vk0QHiglZWKfDsCRu3WITHj3r5ZDLXED9tkwdVqbvFC8y3Ws7imxqkcQUiYhNMkdXtR18/s1600/blog1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdTrMG4OBtiR9x4niLQa_G2F3n7ubMiydZ9SRKZ7Mn33CbtUwyaXrjzCpo2Dgd-ZygYMybr4Vk0QHiglZWKfDsCRu3WITHj3r5ZDLXED9tkwdVqbvFC8y3Ws7imxqkcQUiYhNMkdXtR18/s320/blog1.jpg" width="172" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And now, here I am. At 23, three beauty pageants down as Miss Tourism Queen Nepal 2011 all set to represent my nation and compete with a bevy of beauties from around the globe. And, if the idea of being one’s graceful best, poised, polished, looking picture perfect pretty at all times doesn’t scare the “Rambo Kid” I don’t know what will. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And it did. Big time. I freshly remember standing up on the stage during the grand finale of Miss Teen Nepal 2006 that day, all set to recite my beautifully written introduction only to forget it all, which was followed by the longest most painful “nothingness” of the mind I had ever experienced in my life. The worst part was perhaps the fact that I didn’t budge from the center stage for a good couple of minutes, still hoping to recall all that I had to say, until the emcee herself had to show me the way (sigh). </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We were taught, that to make a mark in a beauty pageant one must stand out; and boy did I stand out. There are quite a bunch of people who still remember me as “That Rai girl who couldn’t utter a word” and I am in the know of my moment of obscurity becoming quite popular in YouTube , although I never got the guts to watch it myself I did read the comments posted up there and I can tell you it wasn’t the best things for any one to read about themselves. I did however; enjoy the amount of attention my little “non-act” garnered. “Famous for not the best reasons, but famous still” I pacified my self. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Now again, going back to my “epic fail” first stage appearance ever, I remember rushing backstage with two choices in my mind. Either I choose to break down in tears over my two months of training going down the drain and messing up my beautiful makeup or stand up and fight and work to give the performance of my life. It was then that The “Rambo Kid” in me came along to help me build up the courage to face my fears head on; something it had learnt to do as a child. And despite all that disastrous beginning, I still ended up wining the 2</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">nd</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> runner up title. Coming out of the experience braver than ever and most importantly coming out of the ordeal as a winner in my own eyes. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It must be my love for competitions that drove me to participate in all the contests that I did. Along with the beauty contests, I never stopped battling out in my national level basketball tournaments or fighting in any other college level sports related activities, to international essay, article and poetry writing competitions... as many there were out there that fit my criteria, I must have tried them all.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I made the “Rambo Kid” in me to believe I could qualify to become a beauty queen. While it was a challenge, we pulled it off. Now I can go back and forth to becoming any which facet of me that I want, a little treat I give myself from time to time. Then there is this intense athlete in me that loves to gruel and train to win championships, a musically inclined soul that yearns to hit the right notes one day to become a good singer and then a writer; who used to fail her English while in school who is but now paid to write the same. Ahhh.. how I enjoy the many facades of my being and the many competitions that I was part of helped me find it all.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I guess, all I am trying to say here is , whatever you choose to become, you will be. I truly believe that all of us have many dimensions to ourselves and that we’re often too scared to explore. I know I was. But also there isn’t a more enriching life to live than to live a life really knowing who you are and what you are worth of. In all these years, I have understood that defeats and victories were merely for the entertainment of others. And that in your hearts of heart you should always know that agreeing to be a part of a battle already makes you a winner.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As for me, as much as I enjoyed my journey from the Rambo kid to a Beauty Queen, I know this definitely doesn’t end here. And whether or not I am a part of any other contests in the future, I will never stop exploring the many possible sides in me and keep finding joy in it. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">After all, all of us hope to get the best from life but have we considered giving life back the best we have? Finding the many gifts I have been bestowed with and exploiting it to enrich my life and those of many others around me is my way of giving back to my life … what’s yours? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTk6S7RmmQFm8K6EcGFVKV3-RE4NhdaBjMi5eQK3z5tgZJhURzZ_pWVhKm3MR8M-yFwwfHV0c3P-JgUmjq_ORp-ys-7VW-jjeLd1jW_YMD0qg51OqvFK05D5l3UDM4D6VyvNpM5PziHo/s1600/blog+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTk6S7RmmQFm8K6EcGFVKV3-RE4NhdaBjMi5eQK3z5tgZJhURzZ_pWVhKm3MR8M-yFwwfHV0c3P-JgUmjq_ORp-ys-7VW-jjeLd1jW_YMD0qg51OqvFK05D5l3UDM4D6VyvNpM5PziHo/s1600/blog+4.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">FYI ... I am still yet to go for the Miss Tourism International Contest slated for the summer of 2011. Thanks for reading :) </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
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</div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-63728314383774885322011-05-04T10:01:00.000-07:002014-05-28T23:56:10.071-07:00FROMANCE- THE FACEBOOK ROMANCE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXb6GNUqHIL3CNe0DEOXN4JbBhMOC-sYcw9Kg_tPxod4ChAnpm19ljUlKvN-qplKhuaxW7z3fRI8c8eD7PWfCUgAKPRzUkx5u-fAmIpEFO3Kw0FfRNXo_MByrN4Os-l320CUM4zs2fBcw/s1600/fromance+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXb6GNUqHIL3CNe0DEOXN4JbBhMOC-sYcw9Kg_tPxod4ChAnpm19ljUlKvN-qplKhuaxW7z3fRI8c8eD7PWfCUgAKPRzUkx5u-fAmIpEFO3Kw0FfRNXo_MByrN4Os-l320CUM4zs2fBcw/s320/fromance+1.jpg" height="316" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We all do it, don’t we? Romance our Facebook accounts? But today, my hint was rather towards the “Romance” that is prevalent among FB users- an inter FB accounts romance if you will. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">So the last time I posted a profile picture with a guy friend of mine, more than a hundred likes and a dozen comments jammed my notifications. For almost a week after that, every where I walked in- into my office, into parties, I was abound with comments such as “congratulations” and “ who is that guy?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wow! I had no idea bringing a guy into the picture, really my Facebook picture but evidently into my life, was making such a grand statement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">And so, just like that, I believe I accidently had me starring in one of the many “Facebook Romances” that is out there. So what are the features of this Fromance? Read on to find out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">You know you’re caught up in a Fromance..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The obvious one- If your profile info reads “in a relationship with so and so.”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">If you’ve uploaded photos featuring your “coupledom”. A more powerful statement made if it’s put up as the display picture, apparently. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> If you’ve started filling the walls of your partner with declarations of your abounding love, to which the singletons reaction could range from an “aweee” to “ewww… that was cheesy”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"> If you’ve exchanged your Facebook passwords with your significant other. I believe it’s the new age “exchange of apartment keys” a vital step in a relationship indeed.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"> </span></span> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">If you start responding to people’s comments as “Us” or a “we”.</span></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"> If your disagreements and arguments with your other half find a way into your FB activities.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">If your joy lies in Facebook “likes” and your sorrows begin with “single people” posing threat to your relationship by actively engaging themselves in FB activities with your significant other.</span></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"> </span></span> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">If you change your info back to being “single” only to garner attention.</span></span></span></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> And just when people start empathizing with you, you decide to patch up right back. Which is all fine, really, until you start going back and forth to being single and in a relationship, which entails to a flop Fromance.</span></span></span></span></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">So there you go, these Fromancers sure give people a reason to envy (in a good way) when they seem happy dont they? And well a reason to gossip about when they’re not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">And because Fromance can be a little more superficial than the real romance of the real world, since you know, the couple is aware of the constant public scrutiny, I assume they could pass off as new age soap operas any day. Where the characters, the emotions, the drama and the dialogues are real and is telecast live on Facebook channel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Well, categorically speaking, a Facebook Romance could widely be divided into two chunks. One that started before the two people started using Facebook and one that is Facebook-borne. But today, since its almost next to being a retard if one does not hold a Facebook account and the first sentence people utter to people they like is “Can I add you on facebook?” this world better be prepared for some serious Fromance and more Fromancers in the days to come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Indeed Yes! The Facebook-borne romance progresses very rapidly because what ordinarily would’ve taken several sittings of dates can be obtained at a glance of the potential partner’s FB page. To which people from the old school dating era may claim having no charm, to which I say it’s a fast world, hell the world could see an end next year, why waste our valuable time on the wrong people? Fromance is definitely the way to go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878534775426059831.post-62877065595100708992011-02-22T11:42:00.000-08:002011-03-06T08:31:13.874-08:00Who Sees A leopard When Riding Home?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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I mean like really ... who does ?? But I did .. and although the incident totally shook me up for hours .. I have come to realize that it was a sign really from the universe ... they say a black cat crossing your road is bad luck .. id like to believe a big leopard crossing my path will bring positive energy my way in abundance. And I can already feel it.<br />
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So this is what exactly happened. For a week now, my scooter had been given for repairing at this place in Jawalakhel. Every time I went to pick it up they'd say it wasnt mended yet and my friends would drop me off home instead. But today , it was ready for me to take it home. And so I did. Met my friends for some coffee and conversations, picked up corn flour from the market for my brother and headed home.<br />
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8:30ish in the evening I fueled the scooty tank with some petrol and as always began my journey home, singing away. That is how I probably must have trained my vocal chords in the first place. One because i love singing , two because I live 25 kms away from the city .. its a long ride .. i need some entertainment , i have no ipod and so I sing to myself. In many occasions , I get a lot of by passers mostly motorcycle riders ogling at me with fascination some simply making fun of me for singing so loud ... its embarrassing for a few moments yes .. but at the end i pat myself saying, okay not the best way to do it but at least i made someone smile today.<br />
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Any way moving along to what happened to me today ... so I was riding along the road leading to Godavari and just about minutes before I reach home there is a stretch that I have always been particularly a little scared of.<br />
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You know me as a person and you will know that nothing really scares me or rather I dont give anything or anyone so much of privilege to scare me. Not darkness, not ghosts, not even people ... but this particular dark, densely forested lane always did infuse a little fear in me everytime .. in fact I have told this to many of my friends. Many of my friends who often stand at disbelief when I say that I used to get home as late as 1 am in the morning when I was working for this Daily Newspaper.<br />
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And they'd ask , "dar lagdaina" .... and id go .. kaile pani darr lagena .. except for that small stretch before i reach home .. that lane is scary .. because there is no human settlement there. Id be damned if my scooter broke down around there.<br />
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And it was the same lane that i had witnessed the oh-so-regal leopard today. I have seen big wild hares in that same place .. running along with my scooty. In the same little stretch once when i was returning home at about 10 at night ... an owl literally flew a little above and infront of my scooty. The reason that I encountered so many animals in the same stretch clearly points the fact that before human intruded this place , this was a dense animal hub. That ... or these animals just like me too much lol ..<br />
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But the interesting detail perhaps is that ... I have been riding my scooter since I was 18 years old and now almost 5 to 6 years of riding the same scooty in the same street I never saw those animals .. its only off late that ive been seeing a lot of them ... the year 2010-2011 and today , oh today was an absolute stunner.<br />
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Singing , bobbing my head as I rode my scooty ... this almost 5 feet long leopard crossed the road right infront of me. Had I reached the place even 2 seconds earlier I would have crossed the leopard path's instead ... and I dont know what would have happened then. I just know that i wouldnt have been able to save myself ... because the animal was just so huge.<br />
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It walked in its own royal pace ... the sound or the lights from my ride did nothing to bother the animal ... my lights that shone against its skin helped me clearly see all the beautiful , spikelike patterns in its body ... royal golden in color with black sharp knife like black imprints ... ahh so beautiful .. and the irony is perhaps the fact that i have always been such an admirer of leopard prints.<br />
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The animal walked across the street and jumped over the fence of some house like it was taking a stroll in its backyard. The entire incident that is taking me forever to put into words actually perhaps lasted not more than 3 to 4 seconds ... but surely it has left an impression on my mind that will last forever.<br />
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You know the average probability for any human to encounter a leopard in this world is 0.000000003333 . I am now a part of that ratio ... and I feel lucky in that sense.<br />
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</div><div>And the funny thing is when that leopard was walking infront of me ... my scooter did not slow down a bit , i continued it in my own pace and so did the leopard. Well i did stop my singing and along with it my heart stopped beating for a while i guess because just after a few moments tears started rolling down my eyes and i still cant figure out why. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Was it because I was scared or that because I felt lucky to see something so extraordinary or because I felt my emotions intensifying so much that I couldnt contain it within myself. But one thing was for sure .. that I did discover a new found respect for my life. </div><div><br />
</div><div>So yeah ... now here I am starting my blogging adventure .. and this extraordinary experience is my first entry. The leopard inspired me in so many levels today and am grateful the universe and mother nature sent it my way. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Until my next entry ... its a goodbye. Hope you enjoyed reading. </div></div>Samriddhi Raihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16199237502204720248noreply@blogger.com7