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 Jamarkettel Bhauju Arrives in Canada
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Posted on 07-15-09 2:46 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Note: Some readers may find this story politically incorrect and out of taste. This story is intented to be a humor and written with no intention of offense to anyone. If political incorrectness offends you, please do not read further. It was written on April 14, 2009.


Jamarkattel Bhauju Arrives in Canada

A_P | April 14, 2009

I can’t believe it’s already Nepali New Year today. Happy New Year. It seemed like only yesterday that she arrived in Vancouver, Canada, but it had already been three months since she left Nepal. Her name was Jamuna Jamarkattel. She came from Dhading Besi, the district headquarters of Dhading District in Nepal. She was 36 years old, married with three children. Her husband's name was Ghanshyam Krishna who was 47 years old. Jamuna was Ghanshyam's second wife. Except for his close circle of friends and family, nobody knew what happened to his first wife; he would rather not tell anyone about her. Their children were Hari, 11, Sushma, 8, and Leonardo, 5. Why the little son's name was Leo was in itself an interesting little story. I'll tell you about that a little later.

Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention my name. I'm Rohit and when people ask me my name, I tell them with style, "I'm Bhattarai … Rohit Bhattarai." You see, just like in the Bond movies. But let's not get too much into that; this story is not about me, this story is about the Jamarkattels, especially Jamuna Jamarkattel. In Vancouver, all Nepalis called her Jamarkattel Bhauju. She didn't like it too much.

Three weeks after her arrival in Canada with three children and a henpecked husband in tow, one lazy afternoon she changed their name. Hari became Harry and Sushma got a new name, Susan. Little Leo stayed Leo. Jamuna didn't have to change the little one's name; he already had a Western name. Lucky dude. After she was done renaming their children, at least informally, she decided on her own name. She thought for quite a while but an appropriate name didn't come to her mind. She wanted to change her name Jamuna to a short and simple English name.

After thinking for about 15 minutes, she decided to call herself Jimmy. She knew Jimmy was an English name and it sounded like a nice name to her. But Harry, her older boy, quickly cautioned her, "Muwa, I think that is a boy's name. The boy from the next door that I play with, his name is Jimmy." No sooner did Harry call her Muwa, she told him, "Call me Mommy or Mom, not Muwa, OK? Here in Canada, we have to be like Canadians, right? This is not Dhading, right Chhora? Oops, I mean, son."

After thinking further for a long part of the hour and failing to come up with a nice, appropriate English name, she said to her son, "Harry, go get me a newspaper or magazine from Sally Aunty upstairs. Tell her I asked, OK?" Sally was their Punjabi landlady, whose real name was Salvinder Kaur Dhaliwal. The Jamarkattels had rented a two-bedroom basement suite in the Dhaliwal residence in Newton area of Surrey.

Sally was the one who instigated Jamarkattel Bhauju to anglicize their name. "Look Jamna Ben, if you don't get English name na, you won't get a job, right?" Sally weighed in. Of course, Sally would know; she knew everything. After all, she came to Canada from Patiala, Punjab 12 years ago. The entire Dhaliwal family had English names. Sally's husband's name was Dave, for Devinder Singh Dhaliwal. Dave and Sally had two children of their own. Their son Narinder was known by his English name, Ned. I didn't know Ned was an English name, but what do I know? I came to Canada only two years ago myself, to study at Simon Fraser University. And I'm not even a landed immigrant here, you see. I'm merely a student and as clueless as a paper doll.

Oh, sorry, I digress. What were we talking about? Oh, yeah, the Dhaliwals. OK, the Dhaliwals also had a daughter and her name was Charlene. She didn't have a Punjabi name because she was born in Canada. Now I don't understand why the Punjabis had to get an English name that's at least in some little way a derivative of their original Punjabi name, like Dave for Devinder, Ned for Narinder, Robby for Ravinder, Sally for Salvinder, and so on. It makes you feel they want to hang on to their original name and are kind of uncomfortable making a clean break from it. As a result, they come up with innovative English names like Ned. A little too innovative for my taste, to be honest. That’s none of my business, but I mean, wouldn't it just be easier to get straight English names like Michael, William, Robert, Peter, Thomas like most Chinese immigrants in Canada do? Like Michael Chang, William Cheng, Robert Chung, Peter Chow, Thomas Chiu. Anyway, let's get back to our story of the Jamarkattels.

Where were we again? Oh, yeah, Jamarkattel Bhauju had sent her son to fetch a magazine from the landlady upstairs. Two minutes after browsing the pages of a three-year old edition of the Cosmopolitan magazine Harry brought from Sally Dhaliwal upstairs, Jamarkattel Bhauju found her new name, Jenny. As soon as she settled on that name, she felt a great sense of relief with the new-found identity. She even thought about changing her surname to something more pronounceable for the local khaires, like Jenny Jamar Cotel or, even better, just Jenny Cotel or something like that. But she wasn’t too sure if that would not cause some legal problem for the family. So, she quietly decided to keep the family name.

From that day on, she would introduce herself to anyone she met, "I am Jenny Jamarkattel; what is your good name?" Whenever the Non-Resident Nepalis living in Canada called her Jamarkattel Bhauju, she never failed to remind them to call her Jenny Bhauju or better still, simply Jenny. But the moniker "Jamarkattel Bhauju" stuck to her like Velcro.

Jenny, Harry, Susan, and Leo Jamarkattel. The only one in the Jamarkattel family left to get an English name was Ghanshyam Krishna Jamarkattel, the henpecked husband of Jenny Jamarkattel. When she made rapid decision to anglicize their name, Ghanshyam Dai was not home. But she chose an English name for him anyway. He had gone out to attend a job search seminar at one of the job search agencies in Surrey, funded by the federal government department, the Human Resources Development Canada or simply HRDC.

Dave had told him a few days ago to forget about the job search seminar and just go get a security guard training. "Ghanshyam Bhai, tushi escurty guard ka teraining le lo, OK? Yeh seminar weminar se kuchh banta nai, right?" Just go get security guard training; these useless seminars won't do you any good, Dave told him. Well, now you see where Jamarkattel Bhauju got the habit of adding the words “OK” and "right" at the end of every other sentence.

Ghanshyam Jamarkattel was disheartened by Dave’s suggestion about the security guard training. In Dhading, he was a school teacher and assistant headmaster. No way was he going to become a security guard, he thought to himself, but didn’t say anything to Dave.

In the evening when Ghanshyam Dai came home from the job search seminar, Jamarkattel Bhauju quizzed her husband, “Kris, why are you late? You know we have to go to New Year’s dinner party at Chaturvedi Daju’s house tonight, right?”

Ghanshyam Dai was confused, “Haina ke bhanchhau, kollai Kris bhanya?” Who are you calling Kris?

“Timlai bhanya ni, aru kallai bhannu?” Of course, I’m calling you Kris, who else would I call that? “I changed your name. I changed Hari and Sushma’s name, too. Sally said if we don’t get English name we will never get a job here in Canada,” Jamarkattel Bhauju declared to her husband.

“But why Kris? Why not something else?” Ghanshyam Dai asked.

“It comes from your middle name Krishna, you don’t even understand that much?”

Ghanshyam Dai wasn’t too excited. He liked his own Nepali name alright, but he decided not to make an argument with his headstrong wife. He knew he would never win an argument with her.

“Look, when we go to the dinner party tonight, don’t introduce yourself to anyone as Ghanshyam Krishna. Tell them you’re Kris Jamarkattel,” Jamarkattel Bhauju pre-warned her husband.

Jamarkattel Bhauju knew the Chaturvedis had also invited me to the party. So she had already called me in the afternoon to ask for a ride for the family to the party. They hadn’t yet obtained driver’s license. “Rohit Babu, are you going to the party at Chaturbedi Daju’s house tonight?” I said sure, why not.

In the evening, when I went to the Jamarkattels’ basement suite to give them a ride to the party, I saw Jamarkattel Bhauju all ready for the party, loaded with three tons of gold jewelry on her body and one pound of make up on her face. She had doused herself with a liter of perfume that smelled like dollar store brand perfume. The smell hung heavy wherever she went.

She was beaming. She quickly greeted me with a hearty Namaste with both her hands, and made sure that I noticed her gold bangles on her forearms. She repeated that ritual with everyone at the party, just to make sure that everyone noticed her heavy gold jewelry on her neck, her ears, her arms, and even around her waist and shoulders. I don’t even know what all those jewelry are called. When anyone showed some appreciation for her jewelry, she’d quickly add with a beaming face, “Mero Buwa le disya. Ani yo kan ko jhumka chai mero hajur le mero janmadin ma kindisya.” My Dad gave them to me; and these earrings--my husband bought them for me on my birthday.

She rarely called her husband the deferential “Hajur” at home. At home, she always called him “Timi” or “Ghane” or “Ghanshyam”. She’d say “Ghane, go do this; Ghanshyam go bring me that. Ghanshyam, go clean the bathroom.” But when others were around, she made it a point to show the traditional respect, “Hajur, sunsyo na. Eh hajur, sunsya ho ki haina? Hajur, bhuja khaisyo na. Achel hajur dublara kasto sinka jasto bhaisya chha.”

Indeed, Ghanshyam Dai was a lean and thin man. Howver, Jamarkattel Bhauju was a different story altogether. She loved to eat. She loved deep fried food and had a sweet tooth. She loved jilebis and lalmohan. The four-feet-eleven Jenny Jamarkattel had a behind that was as wide as a Banyan tree trunk.

In Nepal her father was a local politician and a deputy chairman of the Dhading District Committee of Rashtriya Prajatantra Party. He owned large pieces of land and was smart enough to make money from his political connections while the RPP folks were close to the former King Gyanendra. When the Maoists came to power, things changed for her father. He immediately switched allegiance and quickly became a staunch supporter of Prachanda and Baburam Bhattarai. Despite that, the Jamarkattel family had a serious brush with the Maoist vigilante groups. To some extent, that was a reason for Jamuna Jamarkattel’s decisions to call it quits in Nepal.

Jamuna Jamarkattel had made the decision to ride the wave of emigration and leave Nepal when one night about three years ago some armed hoodlums who called themselves YCL members came to her house in Dhading and demanded cash “donation” for the protection of her family and property. They made it clear that if the Jamarkattels wouldn’t give donation, their security would be at risk. She was smart enough to understand the threat, unlike her husband who at first mistakenly thought it was all an empty threat. He was convinced quickly when one of the musclemen punched him in the eye with his fist. They warned him, “next time, it’ll be a bullet, not a fist.” In three days, they gave them ten thousand rupees. Within those three days, Jamuna Jamarkattel told her husband that they were going to apply for DV Visa lottery for America. They tried for the DV Visa lottery for two straight years, but nothing happened. Then she met Ram Prakash Chaturvedi.

Chaturvedi was her distant cousin and he was from Benighat. He had applied for Canadian Permanent Resident Visa and had advised her to try for it instead of taking a chance on the US DV Visa. It is the same Chaturvedi who had invited them to the Nepali New Year’s party in Vancouver. With help from Chaturvedi, the Jamarkattels sent in their application from Kathmandu to Canadian High Commission in New Delhi. To their utter surprise they were granted PR Visa within one year. For Jamuna Jamarkattel, that was her biggest revenge on the YCLs.

Within two months after they got Canadian PR Visa, they arrived in Vancouver as the newest landed immigrants with their eyes glazed as Tim Horton’s donuts and head, well, heady with lofty dreams. Chaturvedi jee found them the basement suite in the Dhaliwal residence in Surrey. Jamarkattel Bhauju quickly came under the influence of Sally Dhaliwal. “We don’t buy cheap things. We don’t go to BalMart. Only cheap people go to BalMart. We go to downtown Vancouver for shopping.”

“What’s BalMart?” Jamarkattel Bhauju had asked Sally.

“Jyu don’t know BalMart? Everybody knows BalMart,” despite having lived in Canada for 12 years, Sally still had the thick Patiala accent.

“Oh, I see, you mean Wal-Mart?”

“Jyaaa… that’s what I mean,” Sally put emphasis on the affirmative.

Sally Dhaliwal’s point wasn’t lost on Jamarkattel Bhauju. She wasn’t from a cheap family in Dhading. Her father was a politician, after all. So, every time the topic of shopping came up in any Nepali gathering, she’d say, “we don’t shop in Wal-Mart, we go to Robson Street for all our shopping.”

One day recently, Jamarkattel Bhauju had gone to downtown Vancouver. She entered the trendy, high-end Holt Renfrew fashion store on Alberni Street. She browsed around in the store under the stern, watchful eyes of a sales lady. It was just like in that scene in the movie Pretty Woman, in which the inappropriately dressed Julia Roberts enters a high-end store and a disapproving sales lady asks her to leave.

She checked the price of a sweater and she gasped when she saw the price, $199.99. She checked out the price of a fancy lady’s leather handbag and her lips trembled when she saw the price, $149.99. She spotted a Pashmina shawl and her throat went dry when her eyes scanned the price, $249.99. She saw a black winter coat that she had always wanted for herself. Sweat broke out of her forehead when she saw the price, $399.99. She tugged on her three children and quickly got out of the store. Since then, she only shopped at Wal-Mart with cash she tucked away inside her bra in neat rolls.

You must all be wondering how I know about all this. Well, you see, I rent the one-bedroom suite on the other side of the suite rented by the Jamarkattels. Ghanshyam Dai often comes to my suite to share “dukha sukha ka kura haru.”

During one such “dukha sukha ka kura haru” session, Kris Jamarkattel, our Ghanshyam Dai, confided in me how they settled on the name of their little son Leonardo. Six years ago, when they were visiting Kathmandu from Dhading, Jaya Nepal Chitraghar cinema was re-running the movie Titanic. Jamarkattel Bhauju had heard good reviews of the movie from her friends. So, one evening off she went with her husband to see the movie. She thoroughly enjoyed the movie, even though Ghanshyam Dai slept through it.

When the movie ended, Jamuna Devi Jamarkattel was feeling mellow and rather amorous. She couldn’t wait to get to the place where they were staying for the night. She couldn’t shake off from her mind the scene from the movie in which Leonardo DiCaprio makes steamy love to Kate Winslet in a buggy in one isolated room on the ship, Titanic. When the Jamarkattels reached home, Jamuna was hungry, if you know what I mean, and pulled her husband into the bedroom rather quickly.

Two weeks later, when Jamuna Jamarkattel found out she was pregnant, she cooed into her husband’s ear, “Hajur, sunsyo na, if it is a girl, we’ll call her Kate and if it’s a boy we'll name him Leonardo.” That was one of the rare occasions when Jamuna Jamarkattel called Ghanshyam Krishna Jamarkattel “Hajur” even when others were not around. Ghanshyam had other names in mind, but decided not to argue.

--
Disclaimer: This story is a product of imagination. It is completely fictional. Any resemblance of any character and name in the story with anyone is purely coincidental.

Last edited: 15-Jul-09 02:49 PM

 
Posted on 07-15-09 3:02 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Liked it. Simply awsome.
 
Posted on 07-16-09 10:38 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Great story, fun to read.
 
Posted on 07-17-09 9:51 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Thanks for the compliment, Serial and Meera.
 
Posted on 07-17-09 12:14 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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nice read AP! keep it up.
 
Posted on 07-17-09 12:47 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Short and Sweet!!!


 
Posted on 07-17-09 12:59 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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nicely written with smooth flow , very funny and very satirical....


job well done ...


 
Posted on 07-17-09 2:18 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Thoroughly enjoyed it!
 
Posted on 07-17-09 2:40 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Light Story but thoroughly enjoy the writing concept and the way it is potrayed.


 


 


 


 
Posted on 07-18-09 10:49 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Thanks, everyone, for your kind words and feedback.
 
Posted on 07-18-09 2:58 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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अमेरिकामा पढेर नेपाल जान मन लागेको छैन, तर यतातिर काम पाउने कुरा स्वप्ना बन्दै गएको छ । जमर्कत्तेल परिवारको लेखले नेपाल फर्कने इच्छा जागेको छ। चिसो, रोजगारीसगको लडाईं, माइनोरिती जीवन सामना गर्नु नै छ भने अध्यारो बिजुली, नेपाल बन्द महगी पनि सामना गर्नु कति धेरै फरक कुरा होला र। खान र बस्न यहाँ आनन्द छ, खै त मन् भित्रको आनन्द। स्वप्नामा तिर्खा मेतेको जस्तो !
 
Posted on 07-22-09 6:11 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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pc30 जी ले मन छुने कुरा गर्नु भो। टेक्सस को steak भन्दा टँगालको सेकुवा नै रसिलो, हैन त? 
 
Posted on 07-23-09 7:00 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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I am suppose to  be working now but this story caught my eye and I hate to admit I can't stop reading it all and best part I really enjoyed every little bits. It is wonderfully ellaborated/described and very entertaining, I can even imagine the characters in the story...  lol amazing...


A_P jyu I hope there is still more to this story and really looking forward to read rest of the parts. Cheers!

Last edited: 23-Jul-09 07:00 AM

 
Posted on 07-23-09 10:43 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Nice story AP. Well written and hope u will be posting remaining part of the story. Don't end the story at that point.
 
Posted on 07-23-09 11:04 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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dherai ramro lekhai. hami 1st gen nepali ko problem ni yehi..........auta khutta nepal ma arko america ma.............sarir chhai america ma hunchha maan chhai sadhai nepal ma........khai k garne hola???

 
Posted on 07-23-09 12:26 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Thanks for sharing your imagination Mr. A_P. This story created on the backdrop of growing immgiration pattern of nepalese all around the world reflects both struggle and happiness of overseas nepalis amidst identity crisis. Torn apart between their real nepali citizenship and new partial exptriate living in their new land, the characters mentioned in the story potry their ambuiguity and hardship to find a better living abroad.

Personally, I don't think one needs to focus on rechristening him/herself with a view to having a better opportunity and better identification. The essence of issue lies on our ability, knowledge, expertise and presentation. The way we saw our world back home was characterised by less hardship, more neptism and favouritism, shortcuts, red tapism and 'take-things-for-granted' attitude while life in some of these competitive land as such US, Canda, UK, Australia to name a few offer more opportunities with even more hardship but with no any such shortcuts and quick thruways. Like many here, if we continue to build on our core strengths, educate ourselves to thier demand while retaining our own cultural and personal identity, I believe we have potential and will power to do like our counterparts. 

 
Posted on 07-24-09 4:16 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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NN: Your compliment is a delight. When I posted my first ever story on Sajha last year (under a different Sajha ID), you were the first one to compliment. That's still fresh in my memory. Unfortunately, I couldn't give continuity to that story last year, but I've made an attempt to revive it and have posted it again ("AS THE LIFE TURNS") with some new additions.


When I wrote the "Jamarkattel" story, I only thought of it as a one-off story. But, now I feel the Jamarkattel family can have some more adventures. I'll make attempt. Thanks bunches for the motivation.


Quicksiler: Thanks for the compliment.


Kaji Sahab: Dherai dhanyabad.


ambition: Thanks for the compliment. And you've made an important point that is often lost on many discouraged soul.


 


 
Posted on 09-22-09 9:31 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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भाग १ - स्टारबक्समा घटस्थापना

ए_पी | सेप्टेम्बर १९, २००९

"तिम्रो मनको दैलो खोली राख है, म आउन लागेँ, म आउन लागेँ..." भुन्टे आफ्नो मन पर्ने नेपाली पप् गाना गुनगुनाउँदै भेन्कुभरको रब्सन स्ट्रीटमा हिँड्दै थियो। एक्कासी जमुना सँग जम्का भेट भो।

"ए भुन्टे, कस्को मन्को दैलो खोलिराख है भन्दै गुनगुनाउँदै हिँडिराको? आफुलाई सुगम पोखरेल नै ठान्या हो कि कसो?"

"ओहो, जमुना दिज्जु, नमस्ते। सञ्चै हजुरलाई?"

"मोरा, तँलाई मैले मलाई जमुना नभन भनेर भन्या होइन? मलाई जेनी भन्नु भनेर कत्ती भन्नु, अनी एस्तो बाटो साटो मा अरुले सुन्ने गरी दिज्जु सिज्जु पनि भन्नु पर्दैन। जेनी जमर्कट्टेल भने पुग्छ।"

"सरी दिज्जु, माफ पाउँ। अनी साँच्चि, आज त घटस्थापना। हजुरलाई दसैंको शुभकामना छ है।"

"हो त साँच्चि। ल भुन्टे तलाई पनि दसैं को शुभकामना। अनी साँच्चि तँ कहाँ जान लाको अहिले? हिँड् जाम एकेक कप तात्तातो कफि खाम स्टारबक्समा। मरिलानु के छ र? कि कसो? भन्।"

एकछिन पछी स्टारबक्समा कफीको घुट्को लाउँदै दुई जना गफ मा मस्त भए।

"साँच्ची आरएनएसीबिसीको दसैं पार्टी छ रे नि अक्टोबर ३ मा, तँ जान्छस कि जान्नस?"

"हजुरले एनसिएसबीसी भन्नु भा होला। अब जानै पर्ला नि हैन र? नेपालमा भए घरमा खसी बोका काटिन्थ्यो। टिका टालो गरिन्थ्यो। शीर मा पहेँलो जमरा लगाइन्थ्यो। अब यो बिदेशमा तेइ पार्टी सार्टी त हो। अरु के नै गरिन्छ र? बरु तपाईं हरुको अरु के छ प्रोग्राम? घरमा खसिको मासु खाने, तास सास खेल्ने कार्यक्रम छैन दसैंको?" भुन्टेले जमुनाको दिमागमा पम्पु दिन भ्याइ हालेछ।

गुणराज बस्ताकोटी लाई सबैले सानै देखिन् किन हो कुन्नी भुन्टे भनेर चिन्थे। भुन्टे र जमुना को चिन्जान धादिङ देखिकै हो। साइनोमा भुन्टे जमुनाको फुपुबजैको नाती हो। पोखरामा हुर्किएर काठमाडौंमा पढेर क्यानाडामा युनिभर्सिटीमा पढ्न भनेर आइपुगेको। हाल युबिसी मा एन्थ्रोपोलोजीमा बिए गर्दै थिए, अनी रब्सन मा एउटा जापानिज सुशी रेस्टुराँ मा पार्ट टाईम काम पनि गर्थे। जापानी भाषा को नाम मा फुटी कौडी केइ बोल्न आउँदैनथ्यो। तैपनी अनुहार हेर्दा जापानी र नेपाली मा तेत्ती सार्है भिन्नता नदेख्या हुनाले रेस्टुराँ मालिकले धन्य काम दि हालेछ।

"खै के भनुम, भुन्टे। तेरो भिना लाई एक छीन फुर्सद भ पो। तैपनी तँ आईजन नवमीको दिनमा। सँगै बसी रमाइलो गरुम्ला। अब नेपालमा जस्तो घरमा खसी काट्ने त तेस्तै हो, गार्चा ब्रदर्स बाट खसिको मासु ल्याम्ला। खुब झोल हालेर खसिको मासु र च्युरा अनी काँक्राको अचार खाउँला, हुन्न?" जमुना पनि के कम थिई र, तुरुन्तै प्रोग्राम बनाइ हाली। मन मनै हिन्दी सिनेमाको डायलग दिँदै थिईन्, "तु भी क्या याद रखेगा किस सेठानीसे पाला पडा था।" धादिङ्को हुनेखानेकी छोरी न ठहरी।

तेत्तिकै मा रिचमोन्ड बस्ने दीर्घ कटुवाल स्टारबक्स भित्र छिरे। आँखा जुध्न पा छैन, भुन्टेले दुबै हात जोड्दै भने, "अहो जर्साप, नमस्कार।" मानौ रुक्माङ्गद कटुवाल नै नेपाल बाट क्यानाडाको पहिलो राजदूत भएर आँखा सामु प्रकट भा जस्तो।

"ह्या तँ पनि, काँ को जर्साप सर्साप नि अब? न उडा न धेरै," दीर्घले भने। "अनी भन् के छ, सबै ठीकठाक? नमस्कार है जमर्कट्टेल भाउजु। धेरै भो हजुरको दर्शन नपाको।"

"ल भैगो जर्साप न सहि, तर नेपालको साँचिको जर्साप चाँहीँ कुन्नी कताको राजदूत हुने रे,तपाइँ क्यानाडाको महामहिम राजदूत हुन परेन?" भुन्टेले भने। खाँटी नेपालीको छोरो न ठहर्यो, अर्कालाई उडाउन पायो भने किन बाँकी राख्थे र?

"के दशैँ को शुरु मै एस्तो नचाहिँदो गफ दिया भुन्टे? क्यानाडाको राजदूतमा त कुन्नी को भोजराज हो कि मोजराज लाई मनोनयन गरी सकेछन माकुनेको सरकार ले," जमुनाले भनिन् । "नमस्ते है दीर्घ बाबु। तेइ त धेरै भो तपाईंलाई नदेख्या। अनी जहान परिवारलाई आरामै?"

"चाइन्जोसो, त्यो के अरे, ज्वाँईँ खोज्ने कहिले कहिले, दाईजो थुपार्न नि हतार भन्या जस्तो, क्यानाडामा राजदूताबास खोल्ने कहिले कहिले, राजदूत नियुक्त गर्न नि हतार। तेस्मा नि क्यानाडाको सर्खार ले मान्नु नि पर्‍यो नि।" प्वाक्क पछाडि बाट एकजना विद्वानले बोले।

तिनै जना छक्क परि एकै पल्ट पछाडि फर्केर हेरे।

पाल्पाली टोपी लगाएका करीब ६५ बर्ष उमेरको एकजना नेपाली बन्धु ङिच्छ हाँस्दै अघी बढ्छ। "नमस्कार है, यहाँ हरुले मलाई चिन्नु हुन्न, म छबिलाल रुपाखेति, भर्खरै एक महिना भो नेपाल बाट ल्यान्ड गरेको क्यानाडा मा। म प्रकाश रुपाखेतिको बुवा।"

"ए बुवा, नमस्कार। हजुरनै हो प्रकाशजीको बुवा? वहाँ को बुवा नेपाल बाट आई पुग्नु भा छ भनेर सुन्या त थिएँ," भुन्टेले दुबै हात जोडी नमस्कार गरे।

जमर्कट्टेल भाउजु कसैले नसुन्ने गरी बर्बराउन थालिन्, "के खान यो उमेरमा क्यानाडा आको होला। के के नै पाईन्छ भनेर आको होला। यहाँ ६ महिना बसे पछी गोराहरुको दलाइमा परेपछी चेत पाउँछ बुढाले।"

बुढाले सुनिहाले, अनी भने, "अब के गर्नु त नानी, नेपाल को ताल माल तेइ हो। सप्पैले थाहा पाकै कुरो हो। बस्न नसक्किने भइगो। दिनको १० घण्टा बत्ती आउँदैन, धारा बाट पानी आउँदैन। स्टोभ बाल्न मट्टितेल पाउदैन। सवारीको लागि पेट्रोल पाउँदैन। जता गयो उतै फोहोरै फोहोर छ। ईमर्जेन्सी जान पर्‍यो भने बाटो बन्द गर्छन् राजनीति गर्ने भनाउँदा हरुले। कसैलाई हाछ्युँ मात्र आउनु पर्छ टायर् बल्न सुरु हुन्छ।। दिउँसै लुट्छन, पिट्छन, ज्यानको ठेगान छैन। अराजकताले पराकास्ठ नाघेकोछ। माओवादीले घर जग्गा लुटेर लिन्छु भन्छन। कांग्रेस भित्र नाताबाद गोताबाद छ। सप्पै राजनीति गर्ने हरु लाई नयाँ नेपाल न पुरनो नेपाल, सप्पै कुराले फापेको छ। हामी जस्ता निर्धा जनतालाई लाई कसैको वस्ता छैन। त्यसै भएर बरु यहीँ ठीक भनेर छोरा बुहारी ले बोलाए, अनी आको नि। अब तपाईं नै भन्नुस्, मैले चाइन्जोसो के अरे ठीक गरेकी बेठिक।"

बुढा बाले अमिताभ बच्चनले बोल्ने डायलग भन्दा नि लामो भाषण देको सुनेर जमुनाले रातो मुख पार्दै बेक्कार बर्बराएछु भनेर सोची। "हजुरले एकदम ठीक गर्नु भो। बस्नुस् न बुवा। ए दीर्घ बाबु, तपाईं नि बस्नुस् न। चिया कफि खाने होइन? अनी बुवा, म चैँ जेनी जमर्कट्टेल। उ भाई चैँ गुणराज बस्ताकोटी। अनी वाहाँ चैँ दीर्घ कटुवाल।"

"अनी म चैँ प्रडीप महर्जन।" बुढा बा को पछाडि बाट एकजना अग्लो युवक अघी सर्दै भन्छ। "सबैलाई महापर्व बरा डशै को सुभकामना छ है।"

"ओहो प्रदीपजी, नेपाल बाट कहिले फर्किनु भो? कोसेली के ल्याउनु भो हाम्लाई?" जमुनाले भनिन्।

"लौ जमर्कतेल भाउजु, नेपाल बात फर्केको डुई मेना भेसक्यो। ल्याको कोसेली सप्पै सकी सक्यो।"

तेत्तिकैमा भुन्टेको सेलफोन को घन्टी बज्छ। खल्ती बाट फोन झिकेर भुन्टे लामो राग तान्दै बोल्छ, "हेल्ल्ल्लो"।

"ए भुन्टे, माधव बोल्या म। खुब छोइला, ऐला र म:म: खान मन लाइरछ यार। जुम हिँड काठमाडौं क्याफे। मलाई बाटो मा पिकअप गर त। जर्साप र कार्कीलाई नि भनुम्ला आइजो भनेर," उता बाट आवाज आउँछ। माधव थापा भुन्टेको नेपाल देखी को साथी। धेरै बर्ष पछी फेरी दुइजनाको भेट भेन्कूवरमा पोहोर साल भएको हो।

"के हो चिट्ठै पर्या जस्तो छ नि, मार्साप। म त टाट छु, भन्देको छु अहिलेइ। तेरो मेज्मानी हो भने आउँला। जर्साप नि यही छ स्टार्बक्स्मा म सँगै। यहाँ पुरै नेपाल नै उर्लेको छ। भोजै ख्वाउने बिचार छ भने ल्याउँला जन्ती नै।" माधवले कहिले कहीँ ट्युशन पढाउने हुनाले भुन्टे उस्लाई मर्साप भन्थे।

"तेरो जिम्मा मेरो भो। अरुको त तेस्तै हो। आफ्नो मेज्मानी आँफै गर्ने भए ल्याए हुन्छ जन्ती नै। को को छन्?" माधवले उताबाट फोनमा सोधे।

"जमुना दिज्जु, आइ मीन, जेनी दिज्जु, प्रदीप महर्जनजी, अनी प्रकाशजीको बुवा पनि हुनुहुन्छ। अनी जर्साप त भनी हालेँ।" भुन्टेले स्टेटिस्टिक्स क्यानाडाको इम्मिग्रेन्ट पपुलेशन सर्भेको रिपोर्ट नै बुझाई दिए।

"प्रकाशेको बुवा रे? तँ दाँत फुक्ल्या बुढा हरु सँग कैले देखी हेङ्ग आउट गर्न थालिस ए?" अली उदेक मान्दै माधवले भने। मन साफ भए पनि बोली भने अली छुद्र थियो माधवको।

"काँ को हेङ्ग आउट, यहीँ भर्खर भेट भाको। कफि खाँदै स्टार्बक्समा घटस्थापना मनाइरको।"

"बाहुन बुढो छोइला ऐला खाने भाट्टिमा के छिर्ला र, जातै जाला बुढाको, म:म: ले जिब्रो छुने त परै जाओस, हात मात्र छुँदा पनि काशी गएर स्नान् गर्नु पर्ला बुढालाई।" माधवको छुद्रपन अझै सक्या थिएन। "अनी तेरी दिज्जु पनि के आइस्सेला र। बरु महर्जने लाई डोर्याएर ल्याए हुन्छ। नेवारको छोरो हो। छोइला ऐला खान जातैले दिएको।"

"सुन, म एक छिन्मा हिँडुम्ला। अहिले फोन राखेँ," भन्दै भुन्टेले फोन बन्द गरे। अनी सबैतिर हेरी को को जान इछुक छन् भनेर बुझे। प्रदीप महर्जन र दीर्घ कटुवाल भुन्टे सँगै काठमाडौं क्याफे जाने मा परे। रुपाखेति बाजे र जमर्कट्टेल भाउजु चैँ क्याफे नजाने तर भुन्टेको थोत्रो कारमा घर सम्म राइड लिनेमा परे।

तेस्पछी हाम्रो नेपाली को जत्था स्टार्बक्सबाट पलायन भए।

क्रमश:


नोट्: यो कथा र यस्का पात्रहरु सबै काल्पनिक हुन्। यो व्यङात्मक कथा हो, त्यसैले कृपया कथाको बिषयवस्तुबाट कुनै अन्यथा नलिनु होला। यो कथा मेरो नेपाली भाषा मा लेख्ने पहिलो प्रयास हो। कृपया र्‍हश्व दीर्घ मिलाई पढ्नु होला। बडा दसैंको उपलक्छ्यमा पाठकलाई हार्दिक शुभकामना।

 


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