Chapter 3

3.

“Don’t justify yourself. I know you.” Yeah, right. You do.
“Ok Mom, I’ll do as you say. Ho Gaya Na”
“Thik Hai. Now go wash up, I’ll prepare your Nashta.” My favorite. Evening snack. Nashta.

The next two days, Saturday and Sunday were spent readying my uniform and books. I just wanted to get in the school and have fun. Come on, how long can one stay in the boring house? My house wasn’t much to look at. As my father was then Sales Manager in Coca Cola Company, his salary wasn’t much, just something around 40,000 per month in Nepali Currency. Each 1 Indian rupee is equivalent to 1 rupee and 60 paisa in Nepali currency. So, that comes around 25,000 per month in Indian Rupee. Damn, I’m good at explaining Math! So you see he could only afford a house just big enough for five of us.

As I said, my house wasn’t much to look at, so I think I should skip explaining the house. But I know you readers, you guys always want to know about the writer’s life in detail or almost everyone’s who interests you (I’m indirectly telling you that you are interested in me!). Here it goes then. My house was located behind a Government Funded Family Planning Association (why do they keep long names?) building. It was and is a two storied red color building. My father hired the entire 1st floor. There were four rooms including the Guest room. A verandah near the entrance and the same way to the Kitchen. Go a bit farther and you find the bathroom and further ten steps then, there is the Grand Finale, the toilet. Neighboring houses were, well, really neighboring. The houses weren’t even two steps further. Didn’t they know it’s dangerous?

Anyway, that was my boring house, or as I thought of it then. We didn’t even have a Television then. My father had bought a radio called something like 10 Band World TV Receiver (I hate long names)! Yeah, you might have guessed it by its long name. It’s the one that receives the radio signal of the TV satellite or the Dish nearby and play the sound part of it.

I think you must have got the picture of my misery. I had friends who were, like, gadget freaks and you know possessed all that my dad couldn’t afford, which made a Nashta out of me.