Therefore, this fine day, when the sky suddenly turned all dark and grumpy, I decided I would not even bother initiating the rain ritual. I jumped into a triangular cranny-like tea shop in Putalisadak instead. A tea shop is probably the best place in the whole world for me. I love the space, the ambience and of course, the tea.[break]
Although I am not much of a tea-drinker, I have started finding myself among tea-drinkers; but I bet it is not really about the tea but about the conversations that it facilitates. Like an anonymous poet has once said, “One tea drinker can write a poem, two tea drinkers can write a couplet, three drinkers can write a haiku and four will probably end up having a hearty conversation”.
Anyhow, so I entered this tea shop and requested for a warm cup of tea (enter a smiley face here). As I waited for the tea to be brewed, ahem, by a machine, I started noticing how well equipped this little tiny space was.
There was a rack full of instant noodles, a small fridge for aerated drinks, another rack full of biscuits and chips along with the utensils, and this middle-aged, slightly large man fiddled around the “cooking area” that consisted of a gas on the table with mugs and cups.
There was a moderate bench inside the shop where three to four people could easily “adjust” and another bench outside the shop for those who loved the view of the traffic.
After a while, two young chaps entered the shop, inquiring about the “menu”. A relatively older looking guy from the pair asked for a cup of tea while the younger guy looked dazed.
He looked like he had seen a ghost, decided it was a dream and then realized that it was not and the ghost still existed (you know the feeling?). The older guy tried to initiate a conversation with me, and another guy who was already seated inside with a cup of tea in his hands.
“Yo bhai hijo bharkhar Taplejung bata aayeko, aja dui ota colleges ma entrance exams diyeko. Eslai gaadi lagecha k” (This bhai has just arrived from Taplejung and he just gave two entrance exams in Plus 2 colleges. He is having motion sickness from all the travelling.)”
I looked sympathetically at this younger boy, who probably already feels beaten about and exhausted, even before he has begun his college. The older guy smiled at me.
I did not know how to respond and just gave back a curt tight smile (I think, hopefully). I really wanted to tell the young boy that he will probably do okay; that Kathmandu treats its young crowd with sensibilities; that he will find college stimulating; that his future is “bright” and that the iron gate leads to a silver one and then to a golden one.
Uncle handed me my cup of tea, warm and inviting and I decided against saying anything. I couldn’t possibly assure him, he will have to face his share of struggles and perhaps little bit more.
He will probably become one of the crowd –that you can already see buzzing about in the streets with college prospectuses and admissions forms/results – and either disappear or if he has a strong will, make a decent living. And if I let my optimistic wings of imagination fly, he will end up inventing a new technology to save lives or set a Guinness world record, or discover true love. You never know.
For now, he has a package of sicknesses to deal with: motion sickness, home sickness and the general i-am-lost-amid-the-crowd sickness. My best wishes.
For more on Sisakalam, visit sisakalam.wordpress.com
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