"Cry my Beloved Country"

The trees are bare once again. The shivering breeze of November is blowing the dry leaves once again. Winter is on the door once again and the calendar is going to be changed once again.
I'm back again in the same old Omaha Nebraska, the same old roads and markets, school and places, far.. far away from homeland- Nepal. from desh to back again in Paradesh.
I celebrated Dashain and Tihar back home. I celebrated Teej and Bhaitika back home. The charm of being in Nepal with all Nepalese people to share each and everything together can't be compared with any materialistic pleasure that even united states itself provides. Being with own people at once, I realized what I was missing! The rush and hubbubs of the narrow dirty roads, the ringing bells of Pashupati and Guheswari from very early morning and groups of morning walkers, the get together at little tea houses holding kantipura and gorkhapatra in hand and talking and backbiting from neighbors to political leaders, to laugh at the same tinyminy jokes and to sympathize heartily with each others sorrows is just little beautiful life in itself.
Countless people suggested me to stay abroad showing the endangering state of nation day by day. They assured me that we get nothing being and staying in Nepal but to loose again and again from rights to people, from peace to contentment. Everyone I met advised me to get settled here pointing the present hard situation of Nepal. I couldn't speak against them then, I did have nothing to present my point for Nepal. How could I tell them and make understood that crowds of Asan and Newroad and the dirty narrow roads are beautiful than the skyscrapers and silky roads of America. How could I make them understood that the shared nibble of Saag-Vat with family is more delicious than pizzas and burgers in empty room. How could I make them understood that smoky polluted microbus and safa Tampoos are more convenient and fun than burden of head (diesel gobbling) secondhand cars that are no more valuable than shoes of Nepal as we can go no where without having one in this busy places with scarce public vehicles. Even if I try very hard to convince them they certainly will think me crazy or the prudent who visited US but not want others from seeing the wonderland. So I smiled only on whatever they said or suggested or made comments . I enjoyed each and every single moment being there. But my heart cried deep down seeing the change of Nepal and attitudes of Nepalese people. They certainly have became brave as the news of bomb blasting in public places and the number of dead bodies frighten them no more. The kathmandu where a suicide of a single person in Ranipokhari or the activity of a drunkard in the midnight street was used to be the hot issue of gossip and worry not more than a decade ago now get frightened only at the news of murder of family member or the related one. The dream of late king Birendra Bikrum Shahdeva to make Nepal a peace zone of the world is buried along with his grave and the morals of Gautam Buddha is forgotten in the country. Everyone wants to go away from it, run away from it .Everyone feels its not the safe place to live; and think or dream about the alternate. The problem of Maoist has made the country restless and peace less place. The political leaders are only concerned about selfishness and position. Every catastrophe seem normal to people. Its always a Nepali- the people, who die either as police or Maoist . Whoever dies he is no one but a Nepali. Loss is for Nepal in both sense. Mother Nepal looses her child in each hand. Seeing the present situation of Nepal and thinking about its pain, I always remember the book “Cry my Beloved Country” by Alan Paton.
Nepal, my beloved Nepal is crying. Her ever flowing tears urge each Nepali heart to feel its agony, to feel the pain of the nation and to think about it at once. Its time for all scattered Nepalese heart to unite into one garland and think about some solid step for the nation. Nepal is crying either in the firm of widowed wives of polices and army or the lost lives of Maoist Nepalese. Let not the world mock at the stupid family fight of little home Nepal. Lets think about making our home a sweet beautiful place to live at. Lets try not to disturb the sound sleep of Budanilkantha- the land of beauty and contentment that used to be in Nepal once.

Shilu Neupane Ghimire.
Bellevue, Nebraska, USA.
26th Nov 02

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