Why He Left Nepal?
He never wanted to set foot in the US. While farming with oxen in his countryside in Nepal, twisting the tail of the oxen could be the fun expediting the plow furrowing the earth and his own reverie. “Move, move!” he shouted. “Faster, faster! We gotta finish before the sun is up above us!” That was the language he used to communicate with the oxen. He slapped them with a thick large bamboo stick if they failed to hear him. An airplane passed across the cumulus cloud over his head, and he imagined when he would fly on the plane, and he wondered whether his time would be eaten up twisting the tail of the oxen.
Fortuitously, he left his countryside for the capital, Kathmandu, a place of privilege for those who have never been there, to further his studies in English literature. From then, he stopped twisting the tail of oxen, but began twisting the pages of the piles of literary and theory books that littered his life. That’s a big move!
Sometimes making sense of the pages filled with theories and jargon he read was probably more confusing to him than the language he used was understood by the oxen. However, he completed his Master’s degree and started teaching at a few colleges in Kathmandu. Finishing the degree in English and teaching journalism at college was at times making fun of the paradox of his own ability. The colleges paid him a bit, but that was too little to support himself and his family.
He started thinking of alternatives. He never wanted to leave the country. His cousin told him to “come to America.” He could not acquiescence to his cousin because he thought he could do anything in his own country. He rather could go back to the farm, teach the young kids, rear goats and sell them in the market. “No, you cannot do that,” his father said. “Shame on you! What will people around you say?” he argued, but his father continued, “People will hate you and your degree, but rather better to go to Qatar surreptitiously and not to be the character of fun and a shitty example.” He did not want to hurt his father’s feelings.
He walked over to the manpower that could find him a decent job either in Qatar or in Malaysia. Unfortunately, he failed the interview. His rationality was already barred from going back to the farm and twisting the tail of the oxen. He communicated with universities in Australia to further his studies and they refused to fund him. His closest friend in the US showed his magnanimity offering to pay him first year tuition fee if he got a US visa. Luckily, he got the visa and set foot first in the US in 2008. Finally, he managed finish his Ph.D.
Since then until now, he missed everything: his home, family, land, cattle, food, garden, flowers, neighbors, and siblings. He missed how tiny little things grow bigger without a notice. He missed local markets, local chickens, fresh meat, fresh vegetables, and the cornucopia of sounds. He missed the street vendors, people in the street walking, people in the farm sweating, chatting, laughing, and yawning.
He missed the characters of the countryside where he grew up, their gestures, movement, language, tones, rhythm, metaphors, symbols, and interaction. He remembers now how they all would enrich and enliven him. How powerful they are that they refresh his memories within a second of remembering them and make him cry for missing them without wanting to miss them.
“Should I really go back to the farm now?” He questions. No! One part of his divided heart says: You should not go. America is so beautiful. You have a beautiful car and wide roads to drive. You have technology and twenty-four hour electricity. It is clean and quiet and no strikes and political fight. Another part of hid heart says: You must go. Go change the politics and policy. Embrace everything what you have missed. Go and be around the phenomena that grows without your notice. Live a simple life with high thinking. Educate young people. Teach them. Train them. Love them. Appreciate them.
However, he sees a very beautiful future of Nepal if he goes back. He is not worried about how bad the politics is, how disgusting the politicians’ brawling is. “The change in the country occurs not by including one and excluding the other, but embracing both bad and good ones” He says. ” I will go back and go back to the countryside and twist the tail of the oxen while teaching young kids and the younger generation who are the future of the nation.
If I do so, I can make my land arable so I can grow more crops. I can make young generation arable so I can produce more good people in the future to drive the nation towards right directions” he says. “Yes, that I can do without missing anything in my life.” And he says, “I will rather plow my own fields and rear my own children” rather than twisting the tail of God knows what in a foreign land.
” I will go back and go back to the countryside and twist the tail of the oxen while teaching young kids and the younger generation who are the future of the nation. If I do so, I can make my land arable so I can grow more crops. I can make young generation arable so I can produce more good people in the future to drive the nation towards right directions” he says. “Yes, that I can do without missing anything in my life.” And he says, “I will rather plow my own fields and rear my own children” rather than twisting the tail of God knows what in a foreign land.“
हामीलाई तपाईंहरूको सल्लाह र सुझाव दिनुहोला जसले गर्दा हामीले यो विकास पत्रकारिता, लेखन र साहित्यको क्षेत्रमा अझ राम्रो गर्न सकौं । यहाँहरूका लेख तथा रचनाहरु छन् भने पनि हामीलाई पठाउनुहोला । छापिन योग्य रचनाहरू हामी छाप्ने छौं ।सम्पर्क इमेल : firstname.lastname@example.org