The Hypocrite

By Hitesh Karki

The meeting happened to be a sheer accident. There was never even a remote chance of we crossing our paths but then as fate would have it, we met. It’s not that we met when we ‘met’ for we had been meeting for quite sometime, albeit not in the real world but in the virtual one, thanks to the reach of the net. I hope you must be well acquainted with the fact that how people bump into each other on the net, especially in the most popular service for the youth, chat.

Like first time lovers, the place was set for the rendezvous. I knew she would be there but then didn’t have any clue how I would be able to recognize her. Going by the description of her, which we had managed to exchange over the months, I was quite confident that I would be able to recognize her. No, there weren’t those first meeting rituals like carrying a red rose in our hands or for that matter any other colored ones. The level of confidence was at such high that we just decided upon a place and the time without going into the nitty-gritty of the kinds or colors of the clothes we would be wearing.

In spite of heavy morning breakfast, the butterflies in the stomach were still finding ample space to flutter their wings. Even if we had known virtually everything about each other, the deal was such that we would never ever exchange the photographs. The deal hadn’t been broken since. At first, that didn’t seem a fair play after knowing so much about each other but then the thrill or the suspense had become exciting. Once, I remember, when she had asked me about what I looked for in a girl. I had told her honestly that "I don’t care much about physical appearance but more for a heart of gold". Since the photographs hadn’t been exchanged, trying to visualize, how she would look in person, had become one of the most favorite past time of mine. I was quite confident that the case must have been the same with her, hopefully!

‘Dressed to kill’, that is how I would prefer to describe the clothes I wore on that day. I left the home for the place where I would be seeing her in person for the first time. It would be a white lie if I were to say that I was not trying to project myself more than what I actually knew I was. "First impression is the last impression", this famous quote had been lingering in my mind ever since we had finally decided
to meet.

As the wait for the first encounter began to unfold, the jitterbugs became more jittery. "Was she the one, no way she didn’t even remotely match the description that I had received" the monologue continued with the sight of every female. Suddenly out of the blue, a woman, presumably in her late thirties, came marching right across me with a smile on her face. As soon as she uttered, "Hitesh"? heaven help me, I cried loud to myself, no way this couldn’t be her. For a moment I stood comfortably numb!

‘Hey what’s the matter, Hitesh?’ I was suddenly brought back to my senses. Now that the person whom I had been waiting eagerly ever since the meeting was fixed, was right in front of me. I knew I was left with no options but to acclimatize with whatever altitude. ‘I was standing at that moment ’, I knew the clock was ticking away.

Slowly but steadily the conversation began to gain momentum. Sitting on the lush green grass we began to talk about every thing under the sun. As the time ticked by I was beginning to sense that ‘Yes, she is the one’. The doubt over whether she was the real one or not, was slowly drifting away. I was wondering why couldn’t I dare ask her why she had lied me about her physical appearance. I must confess that I too had provided her with some exaggerated physical appearance of mine. I had told her that I was a tall guy but then the urge of adding a few inches to whatever my real height was, had forced me to say I was tall, which I knew I was not going by the average Nepali standard. I knew very well that my friends nicknamed me kaale. But I had told her that I was fair. It must have been about half an hour or so when she finally excused herself, saying she would be right back. I, on the other hand, was left to myself feeling completely let down, badly disappointed.

Meanwhile I could feel my head bursting for the very reason that I had been duped, made out a complete fool, but more than that I was beginning to question myself why I had portrayed myself in a manner which I wasn’t in the real world in the first place. Why the so much effort on my part to project myself as mister perfect when it came to opposite sex. Hypocrisy was taking a toll on me, for I had been forcing myself to believe that beauty is skin deep, and there I was, completely irritated with myself. There was almost nothing wrong with the way the lady spoke, she was warm and very friendly. But the missing ‘beauty factor’ was haunting me.

Then a few minutes later a young beautiful lady, on whom my eyes accidentally happen to fall upon was seen staring, almost gaping at me, with a smile on her face. With her mesmerizing look completely overawing me, she slowly rose up from the side chair where she was sitting and began walking towards me. ‘Now what next...’, I asked myself. I knew I already had asked many questions to myself like never before that afternoon.

"So then you are Hitesh". At first I could not fathom what she was trying to say to me but then suddenly a completely different thought occurred in me. Almost instantly, the gut feeling became so overwhelming that I knew this was the person whom I was looking for and the earlier lady was just a prankster acting on her behalf. Seeing such a beauty I was suddenly on a cloud nine. I was completely dumbfounded and didn’t know what to say after having undergone a completely different experience just a few minutes ago. All the while she was just smiling, and as I was about to say something, though I can’t recall now what it was that I was going to say, she stood up, took out an envelope from her purse and excused herself.

The card inside the envelope read: "I knew well before that no matter what you have been saying over the months, beauty for you is not that skin deep as you have been saying. PS: Men will always be men,".

While she disappeared the hypocrisy left me reeling over.

Shiva Samhita

By Ananda Murti

Shiva Samhita is an unparalleled and unique Sanskrit text explaining the concept of Yoga, its philosophy, and its practice in detail. Structured as a discourse by Lord Shiva, the expounder of Yoga, the text focuses on the philosophy of creation and dissolution, bondage and liberation, right knowledge of the reality, and the realisation of ultimate aim of human life liberation or moksha. Shiva Samhita also elaborates the ways of attaining perfections, the Kundalini and its awakening, and various forms and techniques of Yoga. It discusses the human body – the microcosm as a mirror of the macrocosm, the principles and importance of the yogic way of life, and the importance of the practice of Yogasana (posture), Pranayama (breathing technique), Mudra (any movement or posture that affects the psychic flow of energy), Pratyahara (withdrawing o senses), Dharana (concentration) and Dhyana (meditation).

One of the important aspects of this text is that it includes all Mudras on the Tantric sexual acts from the original manuscript which a few commentators of Shiva Samhita have excluded from their texts labelling them as pornographic.

Thakur Krishna Uprety, Diploma in Yogic Studies (First Class), B.A. (Eng & Eco.), M.P.A. has translated this important classical text into English. He has authored and published several books on classical Yoga, Meditation and Tantra. He teaches at his Satyananda Yoga Center, Kathmandu, Nepal. Uprety has conducted workshops and seminars on the theory and practice of yoga, yoga therapy and the yogic way of life in Nepal and abroad.

Shiva Samhita as a fundamental classical text on the theory and practice of Yoga and Tantra is equally usefull to yoga teachers, yoga students and to all interested in the subject of Yoga and Meditation. For the first time readers have access to this important work in English, accompanied by the original Sanskrit text in Roman transliteration.

Confession or denial?

By Vidwata Bahety

Hopes... false hopes. Yes, accuse me of giving you false hopes but don’t convict me of deceit. Trust me it is destiny and not a mere mortal who can trick your naïve heart into falling for someone who can’t love you.

See my honesty instead. Honesty in my eyes and in my smiles that counter the falsity that you may accuse me of. If you see love in my eyes am I to be blamed, if you glimpse desires in my smile am I at fault. Neither the twinkle of my eyes, nor the radiance of my smile is made-up. Only you fail to understand the reason of my happiness. The love that you see is still true and will remain until eternity. Only you fail to realise that the love floating in my mischievous eyes doesn’t exist for you. And unaware of this, if you weave dreams hoping all those frilly hopes like love-struck admirers do, tell me if I am to be accused of the falsity of your hopes.

Call it my selfishness but not cruelty for I myself am a victim of cruelty. How can I have the power to lash the whip of cruel love (of which I also am wounded)? Not on you dear, at least not on you.

It is true that I hold you close but I have never told you that I hold you close to my heart. Well, how can anyone come close to that heart which for ages has surrendered itself to some other being, mortal or immortal?

Yet, I consciously or subconsciously try to bind you to myself. In those subtle (or selfish?) efforts that show a faint ray of hope to you I can see the triumphant smile gleaming on your face. As I lower my eyes at the sound of your footsteps and smile in a distant fashion I wonder what makes you adore my far-flung demeanour. And all of a sudden, I break into a childish chuckle startling you for a while before you actually compose yourself.

All the while that you court me my eyelids flutter with excitement and blood rushes to my cheeks. Alas, the rosy tint that paints my face is not an indicative of consent that you hope for. The colour of my cheeks that you take for the blushing of a coy lover before nodding in submission in truth signifies a hidden happiness. Essentially a wicked happiness that comes from being in that position from where I can see you asking, asking me to give you my approval. To see myself in this position soothes my tattered spirit that was not very long ago begging for alms at someone else’s doors.

Yes, I know I am being selfish when I want you to pamper me with your attention and shower on me your adulation. Nevertheless, I’ve no other choice but to refuse to return any favours onto you. That is why I’ll accept if you accuse me of selfishness albeit I am innocent of the charges of deceptiveness that you may indict on me. Don’t ask me that if I haven’t deceived you ever then why I don’t consent to be yours. Oh! When I don’t belong to my own self anymore how can I belong to you? I don’t love you nor do I pretend to. So how can I deceive you of a fake love?

Let me be honest to you, dear. In you I seek the wanderer of my dreams who haunts my loneliness and obsesses my solitude. And unknowingly I torment you in order to take my vengeance on that wanderer who has cast a spell over my sobriety.

Or could be that I am gripped by a satanic will to play with your heart (not as mercilessly though as the wanderer amuses in mine) to compensate for my tortured heart. Or perhaps I try to find in you the empire that I’ve built in my thoughts in which I rule with the tyranny of my heart.

Unquestionably, love surges in my eyes and exhilarating bliss comes over when I see you, yet none of it I can pour on you. It is because I am only deluding myself to believe that you are not who you are. Unfortunately you are not the dweller of my dreams...you are all but a misty image that I sketch hopelessly so as to near myself to the elusive love that haunts my dreams.

But at times in you I see myself- the haunted and the obsessed. And it is then that I feel sorry for you. Forgive me dear. I don’t want to toy with your affection the way destiny toyed with mine. So, forget me now before it’s too late and fence your heart lest a flirtatious conduct entice you to false hopes and finally lays one more life into phantasm of a hope, a false hope.

Shalinadi where sinners are relieved

By Razen Manandhar

A small compact village of Sankhu, locally known as Sakwa too, welcomes you after you drive for 20 km north-west of Kathmandu along the jungle of Gokarna. The ancient town, said to be built 3,300 years ago, has lots of things to see, enjoy and learn about. One among them is the small river of Shalinadi or Narikhusi, where thousands of Hindu pilgrims flock during the lunar month of Magh (February this year).

After you walk through narrow alleys and open green field for 10 minutes southwards, you will see a small river, with a dozen of small and big idols lying along the river bank. It is an important location of the Hindu myth and legends of Swasthani, where a woman named Chandrabati was pardoned for her sin.

One can enjoy the green fields and hills surrounding the city, walking through the path.

The temporary tea stalls, souvenir shops and entertainment stalls, are the characteristic of the festival season in Shalinadi. Shops of flowers and other ritual objects outnumber others in these days.

Shalinadi is not as picturesque as other river shrines of the Kathmandu Valley. You don't find those pagodas or stone temples like in Arya Ghat. Some major temples like that of Narmadeshwor temple are seen there. What you can see are some idols of Ganesh, Vishnu, Saraswati, Ram and Sita, where people throng at continuously from early morning to late afternoon every day. Even raw boulders, smeared with red powder, become "Gods" in this season. People worship them as manifestations of Chandrabati and porters of her palanquin. Apart from that, there is an open shrine of Bhimsen on the way that bears many beautiful and ancient idols.

Rows of beggars and Brahmin children asking for money or rice grains for reading out the book of Swasthani rituals add colours in the festive atmosphere in the river bed.

The Swasthani legend states that Chandrabati, the wife of Nawaraj who was recently ascended to the throne of Lawanyapur, disdained the prasad of the rituals of Swasthani. Because of the sin, her limbs disappeared and she had to suffer alone by the riverbed. But one day, she saw angles worshipping the Goddess Swasthani by the river bed. She joined them and got herself in full form.

The shrine of Shalinadi is being developed to provide facility to the pilgrims but there is little you can think about architectural beauty in the new construction. A long concrete steps aided with iron bars take you down to the river bed and the sattals and idols around it also has been "renovated" in modern style with cement and enamel paints.

Among the thousands who throng themselves to the river bed shrine in the month of Magha, some 300 locals go for the month-long fasting in the name of Goddess Swasthani. Most of them are women who wear totally read during the month. They believe that the fasting would grace them prosperous conjugal life.

Similarly, those who pray for Madhav Narayan, a famous deity placed on a river side altar in this month, also have to undergo a fastidious life. They walk around the traditional route of Pashupati, Hanumandhoka, Jaulakhel, Nakkhu, Bungamati, Pharping, Shesh Narayan, Bungamati, Lalitpur Durbar Square, Baneshwoar, Pashupati, Bauddha and back to Sankhu. And again they continue their walking to Bageshwori, Banepa, Panauti and return for another series of rituals. They walk on foot for around 50 kilometre in three days, with nothing in their stomach. And a part of the rituals is that some men roll themselves on the streets along the route while other sprinkle holy water through a perforated clay pot.

Presently, a temple of Swasthani Devi is being built in the famous shrine by a Janak Siddhartha Karma Sewa Sangh that collected 4.7 million rupees 11 years ago. Though it earlier said that it would be complete by Magh, it is has only come to the foundation stage in past seven months. Collecting of donation is continue but the locals fear that the construction would discontinue after the festival month ends.

It is disappointing that the life-signs are seen in the beautiful river valley only during one month. Neither the local authority have tried to develop it as a religious destination. One can hardly see any shops or other facilities if he or she visits the area in other months.

Rather, they are with the mentality to earn as much as during the festival season and not to think about it at all during other days.

A few people might know that through the green fields and sandy hills, one can reach the favourite hill of Nagarkot, after some three walk.

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