Archives 2021

विश्व इतिहासलाई नियाल्दा संस्कृति र परम्पराको जननीको रुपमा रहेको उत्तर पूर्वी गोलार्धमा अवस्थित नेपाल राष्ट्रका संस्कृति र मुल्यामान्यताहरु साथै परम्परा अनौठा र फरक प्रकृतिका मात्रै छैनन् २१औं सताब्दीको मानव जीवनको दैनिकीसंग पनि प्रत्यक्ष जोडिएका छन् | “नेपाली दर्शन”को रुपमा स्थापित भइसकेको नेपाली संस्कृति भौतिकवाद र विज्ञानको दृष्टिले पनि समयानुकुल नै छ | “सांस्कृतिक बहुलवाद”को  सिद्धान्तबाट सिंचित नेपाली संस्कृति, रहनसहन, मूल्यमान्यता, परम्परा र चालचलन हरेक क्षेत्र, जाजजाती र समुदायमा भिन्न किसिमको अनि केहि हदसम्म मिश्रित प्रकृतिको रहेको पाइन्छ |

“अनेकतामा एकता हाम्रो राष्ट्रको विशेषता”- यसै किंवदन्तीबाट पनि प्रमाणित हुन्छ नेपाल एक बहुभाषी, बहुजातीय अनि बहुसांस्कृतिक राष्ट्र हो | यो सबैको बावजुत पनि भाषा, धर्म, जात, संस्कृति इत्यादिलाई लिएर हिंसात्मक दन्द भएको इतिहास बिरलै पाइन्छ | केहि निरङ्कुश शासकले आफ्नो अनुकुलको, आफ्नो चाकरी गर्नेहरुलाई ठुलोजात र तत्कालिनको समयमा कमजोर, चाकरी गर्न नरुचाउनेहरुलाई सनोजात भनि सिर्जना गरेको जातीय विभेदको जराले अहिलेसम्म पनि केहि असर भने गरिरहेको अवस्था छ | तर नेपालमा विधमान कुनै धर्म, संस्कृतिले जातीयताको कुरा गरेको छैन, यद्यपि चालचलन र रहनसहन अनि चाडपर्वहरुमा जातजाति र क्षेत्र समुदाय अनुसार उल्लेख्य विविधता रहेको छ | यस्तो विविधता मजबुत रहेको अवस्थामा पनि इतिहास, विरासत, दैनिकीको प्रकृति, रहनसहन र चालचलनले धेरै फरक-फरक समुदायको बसोवास रहेको नेपलामा कुनै एक समुदायको संस्कृति अनि चालचलनले अर्को समुदायलाई नकारात्मक असर गरेको पाँइदैन भन्न सकिन्छ, जुन नेपाल अनि नेपालीको व्यवहार, प्रचलित संस्कार र संस्कृतिको अति सुन्दर एवम् अनुपम पक्ष हो |

नेपालको तराई देखि हिमाल सम्म अनि पुर्व मेची देखी पश्चिम महाकाली सम्मको भौगोलिक बनोट, प्राकृतिक बनोट, अनि हावापानीको प्रकारमा व्यापक भिन्नता पाइन्छ | कृषि प्रदान नेपाल अनि कृषि पेशामै आश्रित नेपाली समाज आफ्नो आफ्नो क्षेत्र, हावापानी र माटो सुहाउँदो कृषिबाली लगाउने गर्छन | कृषि बालिको साथसाथै जडिबुटीको व्यापक सम्भावना रहेको यस क्षेत्रमा जीवनोपयोगी विभिन्न जातका जडिबुटीहरुको सांस्कृतिक महत्त्वकासाथ उत्पादन र प्रयोग गरेको पाइन्छ | त्यी सांस्कृतिक महत्त्व रहेका जडिबुटीहरु मानव स्वास्थ्यका दृष्टिले अत्यन्तै फलदायी रहेको कुरा विज्ञानले प्रमाणित गरिसकेको छ | संसारको एकमात्र दिनरात सबै भन्दा धेरै अक्सिजन उत्सर्जन गर्ने तुलसीलाई नेपाली संस्कृतिमा घरको आगनमा रोपेर पुजा गर्ने चलन छ | मानव जीवनको उत्तरार्धमा स्वासप्रस्वास जटिल बन्दै गर्दा तुलसीको मोठमा लगेर राख्ने चलन छ | सघन रुपमा अक्सिजन उत्पादन गर्ने पिपललाई पुजा गर्ने अनि संरक्षण गर्ने परम्परा नेपाली समाजमा चलेको पुरातन देखिको चलन हो | मेडिकल क्षेत्रमा कायापलट ल्याउन सक्ने, प्रशोधन पछी अमुल्य अनि अति प्रभावकारी औषधि बन्न सक्ने अदुवा, बेसार, लसुन, तितेपाती, चिराइतो लगायतको धेरै जडिबुटीको धार्मिक एवं सांस्कृतिक महत्त्व रहेको पाइन्छ | यसै पनि कुनै रोग लागेमा वा स्वास्थ्य अवस्था असामान्य भएमा नेपालीहरुको खानपान सामान्य भन्दा फरक प्रकारको हुने गर्छ | स्वस्थ मानिसको खानपानका परिकारहरु भन्दा अस्वस्थ मानिसको खानापानमा जडिबुटीजन्य अनि शक्तिवर्दक परिकार बढी हुन्छन् | अहिलेको विश्वमा आधुनिक चिकित्साशात्रबाट आजित भएका दीर्घरोगी मानिसको संख्या धेरै छ | आधुनिक चिकित्साको क्षेत्रमा आजित भएका त्यस्ता मानिसहरु आयुर्वेदिक चिकित्साको सहायता लिएर सामान्य जीवन जिउन सफल भइरहेको उदाहरणहरु प्रशस्त पाइन्छन | नेपालमा प्राचिन कालदेखि नै विभिन्न आयुर्वेदिक डाक्टर र वैद्यबाट उपचार गराउने साथै आयुर्वेदिक चिकित्सालाई महत्वका साथ लिएको पाइन्छ | अहिले पनि आधुनिक चिकित्साको पहुँचमा नआएका तमाम नेपलीजन जानि नजानी विभिन्न जडिबुटीहरु प्रयोग गर्ने गर्छन् | कतिपय नेपाली परम्परा अनि चाडपर्वमा त त्यी जडिबुटीको प्रयोग बाध्यात्मक पनि छ | यसैगरी नेपाली समाजमा तामाको भाँडोलाई पानी पिउने प्रयोजनमा उपयोग गर्ने परम्परा धेरै पहिले देखि रहिआएको पाइन्छ, जुन मानव स्वास्थ्यको हिसाबले अत्यन्तै फलदायी रहेको कुरा वर्तमान विज्ञानले प्रमाणित गरिसकेको छ |

नेपाल एक कृषि प्रधान देश हो, जहाँ हिउँदे र बर्षे गरि मूलतः दुई प्रकारका बाली लागाइन्छ | असार र मंसिर महिना कृषकका लागि अत्यन्तै महत्वपुर्ण मानिन्छ | असारमा रोपेको खाध्यान्यको मुख्य स्रोत धानबाली मङ्सिरमा भित्र्याउने भएकोले पनि यसलाई खास मानिन्छ | वर्षभरी नेपलामा मनाइने चाडपर्वहरुको संयोजन यसरि मिलाइएको छ की चाडपर्वलाई लिएर आफ्नो दैनिकी गुजार्न गर्नु पर्ने कामहरु, समय अनि मौसम अनुसारका कामहरुमा कुनै किसिमको असर पर्दैन | सबै पेशाका मानिसहरुले आफ्नोआफ्नो धर्मसंस्कृति र परम्परा अनुसारका चाडपर्वमा पारिवारिक र सामुदायिक भेटघाट गर्न, हर्षोल्लास बाँड्न साथै मनोरन्जनात्मक कार्यहरु गर्न अनुकुल समय पर्याप्त हुन्छ | असारमा काम गरेर थाकेको एउटा कृषकको शरिर त्यसपछी लगातै आउने तीज, दशैं, तिहार र छठ पर्वहरुले फुरुङ्ग पारिदिन्छ अनि मंसिरको थाकान मेटाउन माघी, चैते दसैं लागयाताको चाडपर्वहरु पर्याप्त छन् | विभिन्न चाडपर्वबाट एक व्यक्तिले अर्को व्यक्तिलाई गर्नु पर्ने आदरसम्मान, पारिवारिक अनि सामुदायिक सहिष्णुता र पारिवारिक एवं सामाजिक दायित्वबोधको सुन्दर पाठ सिक्ने-सिकाउने र व्यावहारमा उतार्ने गरिन्छ | नेपाली समाजमा पार्यप्त मात्रामा पुजापाठ र अग्निपुजा तथा अग्निहोम हुने गर्छ | पुजाको लागि प्रयोग हुने तील-जौ इत्यादिले मानिसको स्मरण शक्ति र सोच्न सक्ने क्षमता बढाउने अनि अग्निहोममा प्रयोग हुने अन्न, फलफुल र अन्य सामाग्रीहरुको प्रज्वलनबाट निस्कने वायुरस एवं वायुग्याँसले हाम्रो वरपरको वातावारणलाई सुगन्धित बनाउनुको साथै हानिकारक पदार्थ र ग्याँससँग प्रतिक्रिया गरेर स्वच्छ वातावरण निर्माण गर्छ भनेर आयुर्बेद शास्त्रले व्याख्या गरेको छ भने वर्तमान विज्ञानले पनि यस कुरालाई नकार्न सक्ने हैसियत राख्दैन | नेपाली समाजमा रक्षा बन्धन अथवा जनै पूर्णिमाको अवसरमा विभिन्न नौ थरि गेडागुडीलाई क्वाँटी बनाएर अर्थात टुसा अंकुरण हुँदा सम्म भिजाएर खाने चलन छ | वर्तमान विज्ञानले प्रमाणित गरे अनुसार मानव प्रणाली र पाचनरसहरुको उपयोगीताले धेरै आणविक भार भएका जटिल प्रोटिनियस पदार्थलाई केहि तह सम्म मात्रै हाम्रो शरीरले पचाउन सक्ने सामान्य प्रोटिनको रुपमा परिमार्जित गर्न सक्ने हुनाले चना, केराउ, भटमास लागायतका अत्याधिक प्रोटिनयुक्त गेडागुडीबाट प्राप्त हुन सक्ने शक्तिको केहि अंश मात्र मानिसको शारिरमा प्राप्त हुन्छ, तर सबै प्राकारको बिऊ अंकुरण हुँदा अत्याधिक शक्ति आवश्यक पर्छ र  त्यो बिऊको दानामा अंकुरणको समयमा सबै जटिल प्रोटिनियस पदार्थ सामान्य प्रोटिनको रुपमा परिमार्जित भएको हुन्छन् | त्यसैले त्यो अंकुरण हुँदै गरेको गेडागुडी सेवन बाट धेरै शक्ति मानव शरीरले प्राप्त गर्छ | यसरी नेपाली परम्परा, चालचलन र चाडपर्व साथै दैनिक भोजनमा प्रयोग हुने, नेपाली सांस्कृतिको महत्त्व दर्शाउने अनि नेपाली दर्शन झल्काउने कुराहरुमा भौतिकवादी विज्ञानको समेत फरक मत छैन तर उल्टै त्यसको सान्दर्भिकता पुष्टि गरिरहेको छ |

मानिस जन्म पश्चात गरिने न्वारण लगायतका कृत्य देखि लिएर मृत्यु पश्चात गरिने पुण्यकर्मको आफ्नो-आफ्नै महत्व रहेको छ | जन्म हुँदाको बखत विभिन्न ग्रह, तारा र नक्षेत्रको अवस्थिति विश्लेषण गरेर जुराइने हरेक व्याक्तिको खास अर्थ बोक्ने पहिलो नामले उसको व्यक्तिगत क्षमता र भविष्यको बारेमा बताउने विश्वास पाइन्छ | बस्नको लागि घर बनाउँदा वास्तुलाई विशेष महत्त्व दिने चलन नेपाली समाजमा धेरै पहिले देखि चलेको पाइन्छ, जसको भौगर्भिक अनि खगोलीय महत्त्व रहेको प्रमाणित भैसकेको छ | मानिसको जीवनको एउटा महत्वपुर्ण पाटोको रुपमा रहेको विवाहमा आगोलाई साक्षी राखेर सात फन्को लागाउने, सात पाइला सँगै हिँड्ने, सातवटा वाचा गर्ने जस्ता अनौठा प्रचलन नेपाली संस्कृतिमा पाइन्छन |

सफलताको कामाना गरि गरिने पुजापाठ होस् वा नित्यकर्मको रुपमा रहेको ध्यानकर्म, धर्मसंस्कृतिले बाध्यात्मक गरेको प्रचलन होस् वा नेपाली समाजमा दैनिकी बनेका पुरातन देखिकै विभिन्न रीतिरिवाज र चालचलनहरु, रमाइलोको लागि गरिने परम्पराको रुपममा स्थापित भैसकेको प्रचलन होस् वा धार्मिक तथा सांस्कृतिक मुल्यमान्यताको रुपमा स्थापित भएका रीतिथितिहरु, सबैको आ-आफ्नै बैज्ञानिक तथ्य रहेको देखिन्छ | विश्वमा बिकास भएका र हुने क्रममा रहेका भौतिकबादका सिद्धान्तहरु, दर्शानशास्त्रका प्रगतिगामी वहसहरु, विश्वका कुनाकुनामा छरिएका सभ्यताको विकासको आधार,  रसायनशास्त्रको क्षेत्रमा देखिएको छलाङ, आधुनिक चिकित्सा सँगै आयुर्बेदिक चिकित्साको क्षेत्रमा भैरहेको आकर्षण र यसप्रतिको बढ्दो विश्वासले पनि नेपाली संस्कृति र परम्पराको दृस्टान्त प्रष्ट पारेको छ भने सांस्कृतिक सम्बन्ध र अनेक सभ्यताको आदानप्रदान नेपालभित्र मात्रै नभएर विश्वभरि नै भइरहेको स्पष्ट बुझिन्छ |

 यसरि विज्ञान देखी दर्शनशास्त्र सम्म, भौतिक सुख सयलको प्राप्ति देखि आध्यात्मिक सुख प्राप्ति सम्म नेपालमा प्रचलित संस्कृति अनि त्यसको प्रभावमा दैनिकी बनेका नेपाली दिनाचर्याहरुले मानव जीवनका अनेकन पक्षहरुको सुन्दर संयोजन गरेको छ | त्यस्तै नेपालमा बसोबास गर्ने विभिन्न जातजाति र धर्म समुदायको विचित्र किसिमको परम्परा र चालचलनले समग्र नेपाली संस्कृतिलाई हेर्दा देखिने सुन्दर र अनौठो विविधताको अझै जटिल सघनताको नवीनतम उजागर गरेको पाइन्छ | विश्वका अरु संस्कृति भन्दा पृथक नेपाली संस्कृतिले गर्दा मानिसको सामाजिक आचरण र व्यवहारमा उलेख्य भिन्नता रहेको छ | केहि पुरातनबादी र अबैज्ञानिक रीतिरिवाजहरु वर्तमानको विकृतिको रुपमा अड्डा जमाएर बसेको दु:खद उदाहरण पनि हामि माझ नभएको भने होइन | यस्ता केहि तितो यथार्थलाई बिर्सिने हो भने नेपाली संस्कृतिले समाज रुपान्तरणको लागि अनि मानिसको सामाजिक, आर्थिक, राजनीतिक र मानसिक विकासको लागि अत्यन्तै महत्त्वपूर्ण भूमिका खेलेको छ |

समाप्त!

---

काहीँ नभएको जात्रा हाँडगाउँमा। संसारमै कहीँ नभएको चालचलन र संस्कृति चाहिँ नेपालमा नै होला। साँच्चै नेपाली संस्कृति अचम्मै को छ। घाँटीमा छोएसी किन फु गर्नु परेको होला? बिरालोले बाटो काट्दा कसरी साईत नपर्ने होला? खुर्सानी हातमा दिँदा कसरी झगडा पर्छ होला? उल्टो चप्पल देख्ना साथ किन सिधा पार्नु पर्ने होला? साँच्चै नै यी प्रश्नहरू सुर्के थैली खै? र विर्कोमा लाको चिनीमा कसरी पस्यो कमिलो? भन्दा पनि जटील र रहस्यमय प्रश्न हुन। “Top unanswered questions” को सूचीको सुरु मैं यी प्रश्न हरु राख्दा फरक नपर्ला।

साच्चै यी चलन हरु कसरी आए र किन पालाना भइरहेका छन्? यसलाई एउटा रहस्य नै भन्नु पर्ला। कुनै कारण र तर्क नभेट्दा पनि हामी यसको पालना गरिरहेकै छौं। उल्टो चप्पल सुल्टो नबनाए, घाँटीमा छोएसि फु नगरे त मन नै कस्तो खल्लो खिन्न भइदिन्छ – नुन नपुग्या तरकारी जस्तो। यी चलनहरु हाम्रो जीवनशैलिको अभिन्न अंग बनेका छन्।

नेपाली चालचलनहरुले नेपालीको आचरण र जीवनशैलीमा असर पारेको छ। हाम्रो नेपालको इतिहास निकै नै लामो छ। इतिहास सँगसँगै संस्कृति र संस्कार पनि धेरै पुराना छन। समय सँगसँगै संस्कृति र संस्कृतिको मूल भाव पनि परिवर्तन हुँदै आएको छ । समय बित्दै जाँदा हाम्रो मूल्यमान्यता र संस्कृति हाम्रो जीवनचर्यामा मिश्रित भएको छ। ऊ बेलाको संस्कृति र मान्यता अहिले संस्कृति भन्दा पनि जीवनशैलीको रूपमा देखा परेका छन्। अहिले थुप्रै संस्कृतीहरुको मूल अर्थ र मर्म नबुझी प्रतक्ष्य वा अप्रत्यक्ष रुपमा हामी त्यसको पालना गरिरहेका हुन्छौं।

संस्कृति परम्पराबाट स्थापित,निर्मित तथा वर्तमानमा थप सिर्जित र परिमार्जित भई हस्तान्तरित हुँदै आएको जीवनशैली, सोच शैली , संस्कार, आचार, मूल्यमान्यता र विश्वास हो। लामो र गौरवशाली इतिहास बोकेको नेपालको संस्कृति परापूर्व काल देखि सिर्जित हुँदै र समय समयमा परिमार्जित हुँदै हाम्रो। जीवनशैलीमा मिश्रित हुँदै आएको छ। सुरुमा मैले भने झै नेपाली संस्कृति संसारमै कहीँ नभएको अनौठो र अचम्मको छ। नेपाली संस्कृति आफैमा अद्वितीय छ।

मैले खाना खानु अघि बाले औंसेनी हालेको सानै देखि देखेको हो। बाले यो के गरेको होला? एक सिता भात पनि फाल्नु हुँदैन हैं भन्दै हामीलाई सिकाउने बाले किन एसरी एक गाँस भात फालेको होला? यी प्रश्नहरूले मेरो मनमा कौतुहलता जगाउने गर्थ्यो र म कहिले काहीँ सोध्थे पनि- ” बा यो के गरेको?”

“देउता लाई चढाको” बा भन्नुहुन्थ्यो। खै कस्ता देउता होलान् एकै गाँसमा अघाउने, फेरि कहिले खान आएको पनि देखेको छैन, म सोच्द थिएँ।

अहिले बुझ्दै जाँदा त्यसरी औसनी हाल्ने चलन त निकै तार्किक जस्तो पो लाग्न थाल्यो। औसनि हाल्दा पानी छर्केको त वरपर को धूलो मार्नलाई पो रहेछ ताकि धूलो उडेर खानामा नपरोस्। थोरै खाना भुईमा राखेको का देउतालाई होला त, त्यो त किरा झिँगाको लागि रहेछ ताकि उनीहरू भुई कै खाना खाऊन् र थालमा नआउन। हेर्नुहोस् त यसरी तर्क र विज्ञान लुकेको कतिपय संस्कृतिले त आफ्नो मूल भाव सर्लक्कै गुमाएको पो रहेछ।  कति मजाले ती चालचलन हाम्रो जीवनशैलीमा मिश्रित भएको रहेछ अनि हामी चाहिँ आँखा चिम्लिएर मूल भाव नबुझी लहै लहैमा त्यसको पालना गरिरहेका रहेछौ – बिरालो बाँधेर सराद गरेको कथामा जस्तै। हाम्रो लापरवाही हो या समयको प्रभाव, हाम्रो धेरै तार्किक र वैज्ञानिक कारण बोकेका संस्कृतिले आफ्नो मुलभाब गुमाएर लोप हुँदै छ र कत्ति तर्कहिन कुरा संस्कृति बनेर बसेको छ।

जे होस्, नेपाली संस्कृतिले जीवनका हरेक पक्षलाई उत्तिकै न्याय भने गरेको छ। हाम्रो संस्कृतिले भौतिकवादलाई मात्र नभई आध्यात्मवादलाई पनि महत्व दिएको छ। नेपाली संस्कृतिले भौतिक सुख समृद्धि मात्र नभई मानसिक र आध्या्मिक आनन्द र सन्तुष्टिलाई पनि उत्तिकै प्राथमिकता दिएको पाइन्छ।

मनुष्य केवल भौतिक उन्नतिमा मात्र खुसी हुँदैनन्। भौतिक उन्नतीबाट शरीरको तृष्णा र भोक त मेटिएला तर आत्मिक र मानसिक सन्तुष्टी भने मिल्दैन। त्यस अतृप्तीलाई हटाउँनको निमित्त हाम्रा पुर्खाले जे जस्ता खोज, बिकाश र उन्नति गरे, ती खोज नै हस्तान्तरण हुँदै नेपाली संस्कृतिको बिकाश भएको हो। त्यसैले त केही नेपाली संस्कृति हरु  भौतिक सुख सुविधाको लागि पालना भएको जस्तो देखिन्छन् त केही आत्मीक र मानसिक सुखका लागि। दैनिक नित्य कर्म गर्नु, पूजा आजा गर्नु, शुभकार्य गर्नु अघि भगवानको स्मरण गर्नु, वर्त बस्नु आदि संस्कार मानसिक सन्तुष्टिका लागि पालना गरिरहेका छौं। अघि उदाहरण दिएको औसनि हाल्ने चलन भने त्यसको मूलभाव अनुसार भौतिक सुविधाको लागि गरिएको हुनुपर्दछ।

नेपाली संस्कृतिको पृष्ठभूमि नै धर्म र आध्यात्मक रहेको छ। कसैले धर्मको विरोध गरे, कसैले धर्मको पक्षपात गरे तर गर्न चाहिँ धर्मकै वरिपरि रहेर संस्कृतिको विकास गरे। धर्मले मनुष्यको जीवनलाई सुख, शान्ति र समृद्धि भर्ने काम गर्छ । त्यहीँ भएर हाम्रो संस्कृतिले पनि कसरी जीवनलाई सरल, सुखी, सन्तुष्ट र समृद्ध राख्न सकिन्छ भन्ने कुरामा जोड दिएको छ। हाम्रो सँस्कृतिले दैनिक जीवनमा गरिने अभ्यास बाहेक पनि अरु सँग कसरी मिलेर बस्ने, समाजलाई कसरी अघि बढाउने, आफ्नो मात्र नभई लोकको खुसीको लागि काम गर्ने, समाज सँग कसरी मिलेर बस्ने र जीवनलाई कसरी खुसी र सुखमय बनाउने भन्ने कुरामा जोड दिएको छ।  यसै गरी हाम्रो संस्कृतिले मानिसलाई चाहिने रमाइलो, सामाजिकता, एकान्त, जपतप, ध्यान, कर्म , चाडपर्व सबैको ज्ञान दिएको छ। नेपालका हरेक पर्व र चाड पनि अध्यात्म र भौतिक दुवै सुख सँग जोडिएका छन्। चाडपर्वले उमङ्ग र खुसी त ल्याउँछ नै तर हामी भित्र रहेको बोध लाई पनि जगाउँछ, भौतिक खुसी त दिन्छ नै साथै हरेक पर्व पछाडि आध्यात्मिक पृष्ठभूमि पनि जोडिएको हुँदा आत्मिक आनन्द पनि दिलाउँदछ।
यी सबै कुरा हुँदा हुँदै पनि हामी कहाँ बिकृति पनि थुप्रै छन्। हामीले मान्ने कतिपय संस्कृति विभेदी छन् भनेर भनिन्छ । लैगिंक विभेद, जातीय बिभेद, छाउपडी, दाइजो, छुवाछुत जस्ता थुप्रै थुप्रै बिकृति हरुले जरो गाडेर बसेको छ। तर बुझ्नु पर्ने कुरा के हो भने कुनै पनि कुराको प्रादुर्भाव त्यसबेलाको समय परिस्थितिअनुसार भएको हुन्छ । कालान्तरमा ती परिवर्तन हुँदै जान्छन् ।  तर कुनै पनि संस्कृति ले जात लिंग छुट्ट्याएर विभेद गर भनेको पक्कै पनि छैन । पछि परम्परा मान्दै जाँदा एकले अर्कालाई होच्याउने प्रवृत्ति बढ्दै गएको हो । त्यसकारण बुझ्नुपर्ने कुरा के हो भने संस्कृतिले विभेद गराएको हैन, केही कर्मकाण्डीले विभेद सिर्जना गरेका हुन् । अब हामीले यी विकृतीलाई उन्मूलन गर्नु पर्दछ। संस्कृतिका राम्रा पक्ष अँगाल्ने र नराम्रा पक्षलाई हटाउँदै लैजानुपर्छ । 

Death is so easy. But living, it’s so hard. You have to breathe, your heart needs to beat, blood needs to flow, all the organs must function properly and so much more. And the most important of all, you will have to endure each passing day and still be hopeful that tomorrow might be different, that tomorrow you might see the light that you are seeking. But when you die, it’s like your existence is entirely gone and you don’t have to worry about any of your problems. But what about the ones who are left? When you are the one left behind in this, when you are the one that has to live reminiscing all those memories, then it feels like dying is so much easier as compared to living.

That was what I felt when I lost her, truly my other half, without whom my existence is never really complete, someone who knew me like the back of her hand, my twin sister. She was everywhere, not omnipresent or anything but still she was wherever I was. ‘Joined at the hips’ could have been made just for us. It feels like just yesterday she was there, with me, making all those devious plans to trick our parents and now there is just me and this blank space. And this all would have been so much easier for me, if only I had gotten one chance to say my final goodbye to her, tell her how much I would miss her, and most importantly let her know that how incomplete I would be without her.

I was still young so I never knew that death was painful. I never knew death can consume so much that it can create a black hole within you. And I never knew that losing someone could be that hard to accept. One moment we both were there and in the blink of an eye she was gone. The day she left me is still fresh in my mind. I can still count all those painful seconds but I would rather not relive those memories. And the days after that day were never easy but as the time passed it became a lot less painful. Initially, I didn’t know how to cope up with the loss so I resorted to shutting everyone out. I grew distant even with my own parents. Some days were just so hard to pass and with the way I was having one worded conversation most of the time didn’t help either. I used to feel guilty for living. Sometimes when I used to smile or be happy, I started feeling guilty for that as well. I used to think that I don’t deserve to be happy when someone with whom I shared same womb for nine months is no longer with me. I used to believe we were supposed to live together that was why we were born together and when she left me I used to question my existence, I used to search for the point in me being alive.

Those silent screams and soliloquies were unavailing. They never made it easier to accept the fact that I was still breathing and she was no more around me. The guilt was eating me up inside. I felt culpable for getting to see one more sunrise than her, one more dawn, one more dusk and for many other things which I knew for sure that she would have enjoyed. It was so effortless to face this world every day when she was by my side. And as the time passed when I gradually forgot the way she used to laugh or the way her voice raised an octave when she had to stress for a point, or the way her eyes used to crinkle when she was happy, I could not even bear to look myself in the mirror anymore. It was like losing a part of myself. And I used to think losing a part of myself literally would have been way easier than losing her because looking at myself in the mirror was the daily remainder of what I lost. And that was even more painful. We used to complete each other and when the day came when I could not even relive those illusions of her voices or her laughter I broke down. It was not just hard; it was so much more. It was difficult to pick up the pieces of her that she left behind. It was gut-wrenching to see her memories fade away. And it was even more heart breaking to learn that she wasn’t coming back anymore.

Because of her I learnt that death is inevitable and even when you try your hardest you will have to face it at some point in your life. I won’t say it will be easy as you grow up because it won’t. I won’t say it will be a lot less painful but I know for a fact that it will teach you a thing or two. I learned this after she passed away that how fragile our lives are and how finite can time be. It taught me that guilt is something that eats you alive, gnawing away, every day. And by holding on to anger, hate and resentment, you will reach nowhere. This negative energy is way more powerful than we realize, it can absorb you, destroy you and the worst of all make you believe that you are the most awful person for not doing anything sooner. But you need to learn to forgive yourself because you cannot save everyone. I have learnt to forgive myself because there is only so much I can do. And the most important thing death has taught me is that life is indeed very precious and you will have to make the most of it.

---

The brightly blooming yellow trumpets still stand aside the grey contrast of the city’s street like an elderly hand against the woeful inflictions of life. It’s December, and life is rich with death everywhere ; however it maintains its grace in things, small and pretty, like a fluttering butterfly, whose cocoon now resembles a freshly-ended year. I still live with the weariness of a year-long exhaustion, lips chapped by the heavy, frosty air, wherein wafts the sick smell of demise — of bees that now lie stiffened upon the ground below its beehive ; death more abundant in them than nectar — of the wrinkly face of a pale pink-rose where beauty and expiry reside, intertwined. Death is a common spectacle in this ultimate month. I take a deep sigh and it escapes like a ghost into its winter-saturated brow. The ghost of the year lived by haunts me — the dead seem to occupy me more than the living.

    The insouciant ritual of nature continues — the years characteristically change — as we, like backdrop of a theater scene, tiredly act out our lives. The vivaciousness of early days are but absent in December. The earth lazily awakes, late, and the haze encumbers the spirit of life day-long. The wind has lost its sprightly stride of spring ; the cerulean hue of the clear sky lies sheathed in summer’s chest ; and autumn’s golden gleam is tarnishing into greyish freckle. The prayer flags atop stupas flutter quietly as if the voice of hope was muffled by the penetrating silence of the underworld — the god-abodes aren’t as impervious to gloom as one wishes ; less even the sacred heart! Our hearts are mausoleums for the deceased, it seems. I have buried many a childish springs, lost the youthfulness of summers, and forgotten the imperative mood of reflective falls. The mournful anthem of December reverberates in my bosom.

      This is the end — the hatchet has been swung upon the trunk of a persistent life, an old oak tree ; we need more the dead logs to crackle in flames — it’s a testament as to how dead still accompany the living. We are left only with the charred embers of a life that once was lush and green. It is the time to believe in souls. I rake the dried leaves in my backward like the memory of fallen lives ; every garden, once in a while, turns into a graveyard. There is a subtle lesson here, a reminder to take care of the living. Life is frigid in winter, and a frozen nose isn’t susceptive to low degree of smell, but the living must direct their sense to the flowery smell of spring that faintly breathes in the bleak December.

    Not everything that ends has to be treated with the mournful empathy of a grievous cat. The possibility of life is prevalent aplenty, behold the orange-boughs laden with ripe, juicy tangerines — life is still savory. This is how the living must be, stubborn like a little moth vigorously flying from one compartment to another in the square window panes that now have an artic touch ; we must be thankful we still have breaths to leave marks upon them. The cherry blossoms adorn the sidewalk as to flatter the travellers, whose zests are flickering still. The little suns in our gardens — marigolds — still have their radiance preserved. It is the time of year when the moon is fiercely luminous, and the stars extravagantly beautiful. The contrast of day to night isn’t mighty and wide. It is most suitable time for dreamers.

       The hazy sky resembles a lover’s lip, smeared with mauve lipstick. The touch of the afternoon sun never so gentler before. The attires of any other season know not these warm hugs of fleece-lined coats, woolen sweaters, turtle-necks, and scarfs. December is kinder like that. It is when we learn to hold graciously a warm cup of coffee in the cold mornings, or the winter blankets on chilly nights.

    Beauty and music can never be hindered. The chirping and cooing of robins and doves from their nest in the alcoves are shriller enough to permeate the thick sombre of December — its feathery music makes the atmosphere amiable still. It’s when little flakes of snow start to fall onto the earth, that like a veteran nurse adept at mopping up blood, hide the sheet of lacerated remains of leaves and birds underneath its silvery mantle — the dead bury themselves, and lead way for the living. Isn’t nature skillful in adorning itself? And who can ignore the dazzling display of cristmas lights, that enthusiastically bubble forth thawing off the frost and fatality of December wintry nights like a triumphant signal. The dangling and jingling bells of christmas make room for celebration in our hearts full of lamentation. For it should always be that our sympathies must be on the side of living. The cornerstone of humanity’s survival is its ability to celebrate even in the desperate of times. We must cherish all that is left to us, as we depart with the things that were loved more by death than life.
     The new year advances us as we weigh our sorrows with desires, and with latter we walk into this sudden transition. There is another world. A new world, which we shall meet with a shuddering — the life in us vibrating on the rendezvous. We cannot hold back the wheel of time, and it doesn’t ask if we are ready, but like rivers we are obliged to traverse the course of life, forthright. Where do we place all this grief in our hearts, and live the coming times with grace? What is harder to carry, grief or grace? I take the notice of birds, that brazenly whistle against the heavy silence of the frost ; I examine the flowers, that desperately carry onto themselves the iridescent glow amid the lunar disposition of December. Life, I find, is a mosaic of mourning and celebration. They exist together interlinked like two cellular strands of the DNA, by which we keep living. With deep grievances in my heart, I find the humility to gracefully bid farewell to December, to another year.

I had this strange habit of counting the number of our meet-ups. No notes, no diary entries of the event, just the number. They somehow carried the memories of the instance- some vivid, some vague and some void ones.

FORTY-TWO

The alleys of Basantapur are one of the liveliest places in Kathmandu, full of vibrant people and colorful interactions; temples and flags, pigeons and prayers, old houses and new coffee shops. A breath of fresh air in the city of dull grey concrete that covers everything from high rise apartments to street sidewalks. After all, it’s the spaces that shape life and relationships.

I was late once again, but it hardly mattered. Maybe because it had already been two years since our last meeting.

Two years and she still looked the same. Her face was filled with mixed emotions, of joy and anxiety. Her hair had grown really long and thick, and the curls often fell on her face while talking, which she would elegantly push behind the ears with her fingers.

We sat on the stairs of an old temple. The earthquake had destroyed a lot of these heritages, and some were still being renovated. Network of timber struts and formwork supported the falling structures. Long iron nails held broken pieces of wood together with all its might. At breakeven point, is keeping up with the illusion the best choice?

FORTY-ONE

She left the country for further studies. I gave her a couple of her favourite books. We promised to stay in contact with each other.

FORTY

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY

TWENTY

FIFTEEN

She was still too shy to hold hands together in public.

ELEVEN

We met for the first time after confessing our feelings. She had a surprised look on her face when I told her that I was counting the number of our meetings, and will do so till the end.

TEN

FIVE

ONE

…..

….

…

..

.

Forty-two, we were still sitting in the stairs of the old temple. I looked at her, and at this meaningless meeting to save whatever left between us. I watched how the timber struts were giving up trying to save the falling wall. I am not really a fan of metaphors.

Conversations. We talked and tried to speak sense among ourselves. But words don’t have an end. Inane sentences, string of empty words without reason. What is the point of it all? Language is a scam.

A bitter ending is better than an endless bitterness.

I had read that quote somewhere.

We walked down the stairs. A slight crack, the wall collapsed­ in harmony with the sound of breaking timber supports. We continued walking in our own paths.

The count died at forty-two. So did the daydream. Eye contacts, giggles and madness. Endless conversations. Haikus, lazy notes and cliché poems. Maple leaves and wild flowers. Canvas. Autumn winds. New dresses and haircuts. Smell of perfumes that don’t go away. Last row of seats in Sajha yatayat. Crowded Durbar Squares. Coffees in the evening. Bipul Chhetri’s songs. Cold pizzas and torrented movies.

However, the clock did not die. It ticked through seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and seasons. There are times when life feels like an enigma. You sense the numbness in your stomach, and everything seems to be slowly dying around you. Time is a ruthless thing. But they do say- the best thing about time is, it changes. Does it bring them back from the dead?

With time, I realize that you fall in love with things only when you start really noticing them. You notice how your mother calls you every-day to make sure you are eating properly. How your siblings talk with you for hours about things they like. How your friends always cheer you up through their stupid jokes. You fall in love with how the sky changes its colors during sunrise. How the birds chase the rays towards the horizon. How the neighbors’ dog wags her tail at the sight of pigeons gathering at the balcony for breadcrumbs. Like how the dandelions grow through the concrete in the backyard. How things have courage to live and blossom. And when you fall in love with these things, you fall in love with life again. What seemed like an enigma now feels like an open book that you were too hesitant to read. The book that brings the dead back to life.

I often observe how all processes occur in a cycle. From our basic daily routines to the movement of celestial bodies in the universe. Day and night. Phases of the moon. Seasons. Eclipses. Life and death follow the same, both within our physical and spiritual forms. You keep the cycle going with your courage to battle the curtains. When things around you are dying, you celebrate the dead by cherishing the things that make your life worth living.

Back when these dull eyes glimmered with purity; when I loved without expectations of being loved back and was loved back regardless; when my imagination ran rampant; when I observed without judging; when my mom’s words were gospel, and my dad was invincible; when I dreamt of plucking the stars, I was happy without a cause.

I am not that person anymore. The child in me died gradually right before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do. As of now, I am who I was expected to be; a façade, dare I say, a functioning member of society. My dreams shaped with reality, my imagination limited by practicality, my desires insatiable, and my thoughts diluted by reasoning. My parents are everyday people. I am too scared to love and too busy to live. Gone are the days when everyone was a friend and every day a jive. Maybe the child in me is not dead but rather suppressed. But I dare not bring him forth, for he wouldn’t be able to survive the world I’ve built around me. Those shoulders would crumble under the responsibilities I bear; those hands would be stained with sin; those knees would cave into the pressure; those eyes would reek of greed.

I miss him. When I was oblivious of the future and had no past, I lived in the present. I even get a tad envious at times, if I am being honest. I wish I had the same spirit I had back then. I wish I could savor life like he did. I often wish I was the same person I was years ago. Sometimes, in solitude, I wonder what he’d have to say if we ever met. Maybe he’d be proud of who I’ve become; maybe he’d feel sorry; maybe he’d be indifferent. I will never know. If there are words I’d die to hear, it’s the first of those maybes.

Perhaps, at times, I’m too conceited to let go of what was. Maybe I am being overdramatic. Maybe the child in me is gone for good. Change, as they say, is inevitable. And I am fine with that because for a brief stretch of time, this carbon entity savored existing and that’s all that matters. If everything was forever, maybe we’d run out of their fondness. The memories of what was, make us cherish what is and the constant fleeting of what is, makes us long for what will be. As for me, I am at peace with what I am today, for I’ve gained more than what I’ve lost. Sure, it would be great to find solace in the arms of unadulterated me. But I’ve moved on and I’m not looking back.

What a magnificent universe to waste reminiscing the past when the entirety of the future remains unexplored. What an honor to grow up. What an honor to be able to take care of the people of who once looked after you. What an honor to embrace someone unbeknownst into your life and spend an eternity with them. To find out the ones you loved are flawed and love them regardless. To be able to comprehend the complexities of life. To survive in this cruel yet beautiful world on your own. To earn love. To have your actions propelled by reason. What an honor to sober up from the delusions of childhood! The death of who I was is but the birth of who I will be.

You see I killed a child who had just turned thirteen

The murder was planned carefully no witnesses at the murder scene

In his last moments he was teary eyed not knowing why it was him to die

Without hesitation I killed the child with no remorse, it was a rainy day in July

But after a few decades I felt quite contrite about my judgement

After each day his face kept taunting me,he was disgusted with my bodily ailments

So I went to confess the murder of a child to the police

How the officers laughed after hearing my confession turning there cheeks cerise

Well you see I did kill the child but not with a knife or any weapon

I crushed and destroyed his youth with responsibilities, self-control, jealousy which killed him every second

He was no more a child but a man with his whole families reputation on his back

So yes I killed a child quite softly giving him drugs like anxiety, depression and all the other things that were on the rack

Until he overdosed and his brain could not take it any longer,he finally cracked

And sometimes when I look at the mirror the child looks back at me

I regret the death of that child,as that child was me.

Through the coldest of nights I walk
Racing with the remaining time on my clock
For just a scintilla of hope to enlighten myself 
To banish the dark thoughts lurking, gently
Waiting for a chance to bind
As I have yet to be entitled to my own free mind 
Cautiously letting my mouth form words that won't besmirch anyone's heart
Slowly moving so that my actions will not tear any soul apart
To cancel out the hate that keeps on trying to barge through my protective shield
But I am merely a human whose soul is just a mirage of what it used to yield
The day's have passed I have kept on with my search
And one day maybe I will find my scintilla of Hope
For my scintilla of hope may guide me to tranquility. 

First Day: 

When I woke up, the place was dark, cold, and had a musty smell. Silk-like threads of sun rays seem to pierce through the creeks of the walls. The floor was wet, there was goat shit everywhere, and holy mother of lord!!! There were goats all around me.

As far as I can recall, last night, I went to my comfy bed, inside the walls of my own house. “How did I get in here? Did I get drunk? Did I sleepwalk?” Now, there was no point lying there. So I hurriedly got up and tried to run but to my astonishment, I found my neck tied to the shed post. No matter how much I tried, I was too weak to break the rope.

Then I looked down at my feet and you wouldn’t believe what I just saw: I had four legs. One by one I started probing my body parts and I found my body has fur all over it; two horns, a tail and balls hanging between my legs. I WAS A FREAKING GOAT.

“How did I turn into a goat? Did my consciousness shift to a goat brain? Or Am I dead? Is this reincarnation?….” Since I couldn’t get out of the shed, all I could do was sit there and ponder my fate. I wanted to believe that this was all just a bad dream but even if I slapped myself, I couldn’t wake up. I was certain that this was real. While I was lying there thinking about myself, all the other goats around me were sound asleep.

I became a goat on the first day of Dashain(festival in Nepal). While being human, I had so many plans to enjoy my holidays but now it will all be ruined. “Perhaps I will turn back into a human at the end of this day”, I consoled myself.

Then I could hear someone’s footsteps outside. A human opened the door of the shed. And I was again stunned because the man who opened the door was none other than myself.

This hit me like a thunderstruck. “If I am inside a goat’s body, then who is inside me? Did a goat and my consciousness swap? Or did my consciousness split into two different bodies?”

Again, there was no point in pondering for answers. So I interrogated my human body in a very loud voice. “Who the heck are you? What are you doing in my body? Are you some kind of demon? Did you make me like this?……..”

“MOM!!! This goat is doing Maa Maa a lot. Has something happened to it?” My body spoke.

“It might just be hungry. Take them all out of the shed and hang some grass for them.”

I was again dumbfounded. Humans couldn’t understand me, while I could understand them. That means, all my efforts to find the truth are futile now. He opened the ropes of all the other goats and tied them near the net full of grass. When he untied my rope, I tried to run away but he got hold of my rope. No matter how hard I tried I was weakling in front of him. He pulled me with force and tied me to that same pole with other goats.

I felt very depressed about my situation. To share my feelings, I started talking to other goats around me. They seemed to understand me, which was a good thing. Then I asked those goats what they thought was the cause of this. And their reply was Maa…Maa.Maa.

Holy shit!! I couldn’t understand them. Heck, I couldn’t understand any of the goat languages. All I could hear was what a normal human would hear from a goat: Maa Maa.

Now, this was even more perplexing. While I could understand humans, they couldn’t understand me and goats could understand me but I couldn’t goats. I was realizing that my day is getting worse.

With grief, I cried all day. “Why did you do this to me, god? Why? Answer me. Anyone?…”

“Mommy, this goat is crying a lot. If this continues for a few days, we should sell it to the butcher”, my human body said.

“Eek… WHAT? Am I getting killed?” I nearly pooped in fear. From that moment I stopped crying.

Night fell. I was tired from crying the whole day. So I slept wishing to wake up as a full human the next day.

Next day: 

Crap, I was still inside this goat body and inside that same, old dirty shed. Then, the same pattern followed. My human self would come and tie me to the post outside the shed. To relieve my misery, I would try to share my feelings with other goats. They were very good listeners and they understood every single word. I never thought goats were this intelligent. But alas I couldn’t understand their replay. I felt miserable. There was no one to help me to get out of my position.

Extreme sadness came into me. “What is the purpose of living like this? Being a stupid goat, eating all day, pooing and die as human food? This isn’t what I came to earth for. Why is this happening to me? Is this my punishment?” Realizing my sorrow, the other goats came near to console me. Although I was saying bad things about goats, they understood my pain. One of them even hugged me with its neck.

“Do you know that humans are keeping you so they could kill you and eat you?”, I asked one of the goats. It simply nodded giving approval. “Then what is the meaning of living such a life, knowing that you are no more than food?”

The goats didn’t say anything. “Oh of course.. I can’t understand him even if he said anything. The goat was wise enough to stay silent while I lost track of my situation. How stupid?” This time I felt myself even more stupid than a goat.

As days passed by, I started understanding the rules of this game. I had the body of a goat but the mind of a human. I can eat both grass and human food. Talking about sexual desires, I get aroused looking at a female goat as well as a hot human lady.

But there were some drawbacks of being a goat. For the first few days, the balls hanging between my legs were so uncomfortable. I couldn’t sit or walk properly with it. I couldn’t go wherever I liked as I would be tied with the rope. Humans would treat us very badly. My own human self would sometimes get drunk and pee inside the shed. One night, while I was asleep inside the shed, he peed on me. Yuck, that was disgusting.

But the worst part was yet to come. It was the eighth day of dashain. I knew, this is the day when male goats will be cut as a sacrifice to Goddess Durga. It seems that other goats are also aware that today some one of them will be cut. But no one was panicking. They were extremely calm as if it was a normal day.

My human family was preparing for the ceremony. My sister applied red mud with cow dung in one area and my parents started the rituals. After the ritual was complete, my father signaled my human body to bring the goat. He came right toward me. I was very afraid. I wanted to run away but he pulled my rope with great force and started untying me. “This is it. Today is the day when I will get punished for all the wrongdoings of my life”, I thought.

Then suddenly another male goat, the same size as me, charged my human body in the knee. My human self almost fell to the ground.

“Oh, you dare hit me. Today, you will be the dead one”. With rage, he tied me up and took that goat instead. I felt that the goat was saving me by sacrificing himself.

While I was shivering in fear looking at them, my goat friend was taken to the ceremonial place. He was placed in the position, and ready to get his head chopped. At the last moment before the cut, he looked at me. Then, his head was severed.

Bloods were sprouting from his neck. He was crying for help with the breath that remained in him. I could feel he was in extreme pain but I couldn’t do anything. That scene was horrible. On the other hand, My human body was enjoying that show while I was barely able to look at that monstrous scene. I cursed myself. I cursed my life and every single human. I felt horrible to ever have enjoyed seeing an animal being chopped.

Then again, feeling my grief, other goats came around to console me. They knew their fate was the same yet they weren’t afraid, nor were they feeling sorrow. They were doing all in their hands to reduce my sadness. This was the moment I felt grateful for being a goat. I cursed my human life and I was now ready to accept my life as a goat.

While my mind was processing all these emotions, I felt weak, my legs shivered and I fell to the ground. Everything went black and my senses were gone.

Then I woke up. My human family was around me with nervous faces. I looked at my hand; it was a human hand. I knew I was in a human form again. My sister told me that I became unconscious, while looking at the goat ceremony. My parents were really worried about what happened to me.

I mustered up all the strength left in me to stand up. My family tried to stop me but I told them I was fine. I slowly walked outside the house. My goat friend was still being sliced into pieces. I felt extreme guilt.

Then I went toward the shed. The shed was open. The goat body where I was inside a few moments ago, was lying on the ground.

I went near it and patted it on its body. Its body was cold and there was no motion. I hurriedly looked at its face and checked it’s vitals; He was no more with us. I felt despair. Tears came rolling down my eyes. For the moment, I felt I was no longer in this world.

My family came near to ask what happened. “I don’t know”, I said with tears in my eyes. I didn’t feel like telling them my experience.I just wanted to sit there, with its body in my arms. Even if I share my experience with other humans, nothing’s gonna change for the goats. They will still have to live a life as food for humans.

जन्मिदाँ सास हुन्छ तर नाम हुँदैन , मृत्यु ग्रहण गर्दा नाम हुन्छ तर सास हुँदैन ।यहि सास र नाम बीचको यात्रालाई जीवनको संज्ञा दिइन्छ।

धार्मिक रुपमा जीवनलाई प्राण , शरीर र आत्माको त्रिवेणी भनिन्छ। साहित्यिक रुपमा जीवन भनेको सास रहुन्जेल गरिने अलौकिक र अद्वितीय अनुभुती हो। जीवन त मुटु र मस्तिष्कको समन्वयमा चल्ने रेलगाडी हो। जीवनलाई एउटै बाटो दोराउन यी दुई अङगको सफल तालमेल हुनु  आवश्यक हुन्छ। तालमेल भएन भने मानिस चपेटामा पर्छ, ऊ न यताको हुन्छ न त उताको , उसलाई त साउने भेलले बगाएर लान्छ। २०० ग्राम को मुटु र २०००  ग्रामको मस्तिष्कामा भार त मस्तिष्कको बढी भएता पनि यथार्थमा दुवैले समान भुमिका खेलेका हुन्छन्। सामाजिक भाषामा भन्दा मस्तिष्कले मायावी संसार र अपरिचित धोका प्रती सचेत गराउँछ भने मुटुले सामाजिक सम्बन्ध मूल्याकंन गर्छ।समयले काँचुली फेरेपछि  यथार्थको संसारमा कायापलट हुनु स्वभाविक हो। तात्पर्य के हो भने, मुटुले सोच्न थाल्यो भने सुखी जीवनमा ग्रहण लाग्नेमा दुई मत छैन।

एउटा जोडी भागेर बिहे गर्ने निधो गर्छन्। उनिहरुको लागि आफ्नो प्रेमी भन्दा प्रिय कोहि हुँदैन। यसको अर्थ उसले मनले सोच्न थाल्छ र पारिवारिक सम्बन्धलाई मस्तिष्कले मूल्याकंन गर्न थाल्छ।तसर्थ मन, मस्तिष्क  माथि हावी हुन पुग्छ र बामे सर्दा रसायका आमाका ती नयन बाट सन्तान सदाका लागि टाढा भइदिन्छ। उक्त जोडीले जस्तो सुकै निर्णय लिए पनि हार निश्चित छ। मनको कुरा सुनेर  ऊ निपुण प्रेमी त बन्न सक्ला तर बाँकी जीवन मातापिता भएको टुहुरो जसरी व्यतीत गर्न बाध्य हुन्छ।यसको ठीक उल्टो, यदि उसले कुनै निर्णयको समर्थन गर्न सक्दैन किनभने जस्तो सुकै निर्णय लिए पनि प्रेम कि त पारिवारिक जीवन नष्ट हुने पक्का छ।

जीवन त गुलाबको बोट सरह हो।  यहाँ फूल भन्दा काँडा धेरै भेटिन्छ्न्।तर काँडा खोपिएर छियाछिया भएको हातको औँलाले गुलाबको फूलको स्पर्श गर्नु को मज्जालाई शब्दमा बयान गर्न सकिँदैन।जीवनलाई ” दुवै हातमा लड्डु “को टुक्का संग दाँज्न मिल्दैन।आखिर दर्शनशास्त्रमा पनि लेखिएको छ,” केही पाउनका लागि केही गुमाउनुपर्छ।”

त्यसैले मस्तिष्क र मुटु बीच चलिरहने आन्तरिक द्वन्द्व त प्रकृतिको शाश्वत नियम सरह हो। मस्तिष्कले आफू बाँच भन्छ, मुटुले अरुलाई बचाँऊ भन्छ। मस्तिष्कले आफू हाँस भन्छ, मुटुले अरुको आँसुको कारक नबन भन्छ।मस्तिष्कले आफ्नो लागि जित भन्छ, मनले अरुको लागि जित भन्छ।हरेक वस्तुको जस्तै जीवनको पनि दुई पाटा छन्।एउटा पाटो नियाल्दा मस्तिष्क सहि देखिन्छ भने अर्को पाटो हेर्दा मुटुलाई पनि गलत भन्न सकिँदैन। तसर्थ कति बेला कस्तो कुरालाई व्यवहारमा उतार्ने भन्नेमा हाम्रो निर्णय  भर पर्छ। परिस्थितिको माग र समयको चाहना अनुरुप निर्णय गर्नु नै दुई उत्कृष्ट निर्णय बीच सर्वोकृष्ट छान्नु हो।

विडम्बना के हो भने, मानिस लिएका निर्णय प्रति असन्तुष्ठि जायर गर्छ। प्रेम जीवनलाई तिलाञ्जली दिएको मान्छे, बाँकी जीवन पागल प्रेमी जसरी पुराना दिनहरुलाई आँसुरुपी कागजमा समेट्न थाल्छ। त्यसैगरी पारिवारिक जीवनलाई इतिश्री भनेको सन्तान जीवन भर आमाको ममता र बुबाको मार्गदर्शन पाउन भौँतारिन्छ। त्यसैले पछि पश्चताप गर्नुभन्दा वेलैमा आफ्नो निर्णय प्रति प्रतिबद्ध हुनुपर्छ। जीवन त हिमाद्रीको शिखरबाट सागर सम्म मिसिने हिमनदी सरह हो। जसरी बगेको खोला फर्किँदैन, त्यसैगरी अतीतका कुराहरुलाई मनमा राखेर आँसु बगाउनु केवल मुर्खता हो।जीवनलाई त मुहारमा मुस्कान छर्ने अपुर्व माध्यम बनाउनुपर्छ।

“आखिर अप्रत्याशित घटनाको संगम नै त हो जीवन”