“Arnold is brilliant in Terminator, you know…”, that is the earliest recollection I have of my first best friend. He was from the Phillipines, and a humongous fan of Schwarzenneger. In the heat of Dhaka’s summer, when we were in Lower KG, we would exchange our lunch boxes: my kewa datshi for his fries, always. […]
It didn’t happen on a whim, and it definitely was not made to make a statement, although the placing may suggest, otherwise.
Any place that anyone spends a greater part of their impressionable, and formative years in, is bound to play the role of the potter: cutting, moulding, shaping. I would say I was cut and moulded in Kathmandu, and have since then been in the continuous process of being shaped everyday.
So, I am sitting here in a small internet cafe in one of the many narrow backstreets of Kathmandu after almost seven years! Seven years since I last saw the insides of an internet cafe, as well. The city that defines a major part of me…and I’m reminded of Cat Stevens, oops, Yusuf Islam’s, “Katmandu”. […]
It was the first time that I travelled to the highest pass in Bhutan, and probably the first time that I ever crossed the tree line, while still on land. And this is as legitimate as my adult memory allows it to be. It was also the first time that I had ever driven that […]