Porn! By Chakrit Subedi

A dear friend of mine Frain Chakrit wrote this piece as a guest post in my blog. Thank you Chakrit for this awesome piece. A new perspective on Porn ladies and gents. Here goes!

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PORN !

By Chakrit Subedi

Valentio’s gown. Dior perfume. Fendi’s bag. Ray- bon glasses. Seducing thigh. Beguiling smile. Alas! There comes a wardrobe malfunction. Then zoomed panties ,Zoomed slips. Zoomed cleavage. Millions of eyes peering through the Pages,Screens. A new topic for gossiping.

Worn out Dresses. Ripped up hope. Empty pockets. Coins flipped up in air for mini-seconds before lying flat on a tin bowl. Who cares about brand? Holes in clothes. True victim of wardrobe malfunction .No gossip about them.

Decrepit Government. Plethora of intellectual fools on rented Castle.. Puppet People. Dancing with every dictum. Tin roof on houses. Very rare(VR) bike on parking. Claiming to be local inhabitants,housebound and poor people.Branded intention.poor outlook. Leech. Bitch .whore. Pity no more. Helpless people, lunatic on the death shore.

Raped children. Giggling  administration. Soaked hearts in Teary pond. Indelible pain.Fading light. What is human right? Bugging virus in Government sight. Like a culinary Chef every thing you cook first need to be tasted. International donation first should be self-invested. No! Not  Corruption. Just a Decent interruption. Bureaucrats? No no they are just the served items on dollar crates,Euro crates.who are Bureaucrats?

Auctioned heart. True lovers are on the exhibition,cataloged,indexed,computer database, teen fiction,theater. Magnificent  electronic screen,World Romantic museum.

Unemployed?Don’t worry. Got citizenship.Passport?Wow then be ready to get swing on Golf course.Many strokes from manpower and one shot from government. You are right  there after being  rolled on the turf,inside the dark hole.

Waiting government to set things all right? Oh come on you will lose your youth, your vigor, your zeal. Your Flamboyancy. Your true self but nothing will be right.This is your life.Wake up.Are you on tabs?You pretend like sleeping? Sorry then nobody can wake you up.

What you prefer? Cigarette? Wine? Cannabis?Is it enough to forget pain? Something more? More addiction?

Now what? Want to use your only right in existence. choosing your own death ?Then do it.

You die.Your Creativity dies.Everything you could have given to this world,dies with you. May be something a human being can discover  only after 100 years  dies with your firm decision in a matter of sec which you could have granted to the world in your own lifetime.You are someone.You may not have been honest with others but once try with yourself.Lets try.Lets do it.

Let’s build porn within ourselves.

PORN-Positive Outlook, Real Nature.

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Please do check out Chakrit's Blog for more amazing content. 

How laughter means the complete opposite sometimes!

I worked at this ad agency for almost a year and I left recently due to personal reasons. The first four months, I was given both marketing and designing job with the pay for only one. I had to go to the field (offices – mostly government offices and few private ones) and collect the material i.e. the text and come to the office and design and take it to the publishing houses myself. It was a great learning experience.

So, I worked hard, did all the jobs and in the course, met some unique people. Among all the just about average experiences I had in SP Media, this is one that I won’t forget ever in my life.

I had gone to this ministry office (let’s skip the name here) to collect the material for the ad that I had to design. So I entered the building located at a very peaceful area, with marble floors and very modern finishing. It was like entering a grand hotel. I used to imagine government offices to be these dingy rooms with moldy furniture and old, saggy senior citizens squinting at dusty files. Now I know for a fact that government buildings of Kathmandu are more equipped, sophisticated and modern than most hotels, schools or hospitals in the country. The rooms are air conditioned, fairly big; the buildings have fingerprint and ID card identification system, CCTV all over and the restrooms... Oh, the restrooms! 

The restrooms in these places are the most exquisite.  They are shiny - white ceramics and tiles, squeaky clean; some even have blow dryers for your hands. A few years ago, I was at a public school for an examination.  The toilets there were overflowing with excrement. Needless to say, we avoided going to the toilet for 3 hours because we couldn’t dare do our business in such filth. Well, school sanitation can go to hell right? Instead let’s get modern state of the art restroom! Let’s skim money from that project. Let’s make a second class building so that we can skim money again for repairs! It’s so disgusting that I find the restroom more pleasant than being in their presence. They just reek of filth! Government offices bathrooms are so clean that it contrasts with the dirty work that happens outside the bathroom. 

So, I reached there, met with the designated person (whom we will be calling ‘the person’ from here on) and spoke as politely as I could (as I was taught beforehand). The room was full of blue coats and Dhaka Topis.  The Person opened his arms, ushered me in with great enthusiasm and introduced me to all the people there. He asked me a number of questions, laughing heartily and ordered a cup of tea for me. I wanted to like this person and to believe that his affection for me was real. And I would have, if I wasn’t aware of his true intentions. I felt disgusted and appalled at his demeanor but put on a straight face. That’s what I was taught. 

The Person put a calculator in front of me and resumed his conversation with the other people. I took his cue and did what he wanted me to do. I calculated how much commission (sugar-coated name for “bribe”) he would get from the transaction. I wanted to laugh at the situation there. Or rather, mourn for the country for the hands it is in. This person didn’t even have the decency to do this in private. Everyone there knew what he was doing but no one cared. I did the calculation and showed him the sum - 5 times my salary.

 He was getting paid 5 times my earnings because he had power. He wasn’t working till 8 in the evening or running all day or trying to make it through crowded buses every morning and evening. He was getting the money just because he could. As I showed him the numbers in the calculator, he looked at me with such satisfaction and pride that I wanted to break that smug look in his face and pluck his evil-looking eyes out of the socket. But I was just an expendable employee at a private firm, right? What could I do?

All this took a mere 5 minutes. By the end of it, he was 5-times- my-salary richer after handing me the hard copy of the publish order letter and the text of the notice ad. I checked the letter for any mistakes and that’s when my eyes fell upon a line at the bottom of the paper. The motto of the office was written in green letters below a line. It read: “Integrity and Transparency for the development of ………………..”

At that moment, the irony of it all hit me. I couldn’t stop myself and a guffaw escaped my lips. Everyone looked at me and the laugh just faded. The person asked me what the matter was and I couldn’t answer him for a few moments. I stood frozen as the silent gaze of the people in the room fell upon me. He asked me again; sterner and louder this time, and that did it for me. I thought- “This crook dares raise his voice at me? This job can go to hell. It isn’t that great anyway” and showed him the word ‘Transparency’ on the letter.

He stared at me for 10 full seconds, never blinking, without moving a muscle. I thought he would slap me for daring to point a finger at him. Then, as I was getting ready to receive any punishment for it, he smiled. A sly grin crept up his pointed face, reaching his eyes. And at that moment, he truly looked like the devil’s advocate. He slowly sat down, joined his two forefingers and told me these words that I won’t forget for the rest of my life. 

“Words are deceiving, kid! Most of the time, they mean the complete opposite.”

I nodded and left. We, at the office had quite a laugh about it but it is sad, really. We were laughing at the country that has millions of young enthusiastic souls escaping the country. We were laughing at all the young activists who were too helpless, outnumbered and overpowered by corruption. We were laughing because we didn’t know what to do. So we laughed; a sad, helpless, nervous laugh. At that moment, I learnt - Even laughter means the complete opposite sometimes.

Being groped on a public bus by Aayesha Rai Gurung

I read this interesting article from my friend Aayesha Rai Gurung's blog Icey Writes.... Please do go and check her articles... They are amazing!! No really!! They are funny, witty and very touching!

Being groped on a public bus

 -By Aayesha Rai Gurung 

 

I was 13 and on my own on a bus to go to my aunt’s place for the weekend. A man who looked old enough to be my dad plopped himself on the seat next to me. I didn’t pay much attention to him and stared mindlessly out the window. I saw him fold his arms and get comfortable in his seat. What he did next paralyzed me.

I froze in my seat as he started to fondle my chest with the arm sticking out to my side. I thought of screaming and pushing him away but there I was - 13 and tiny in front of this huge, burly man. I seemed to have lost my voice, tears welled up in my eyes and I could feel my face getting hotter and redder by the second. It took all my strength to get up from my seat and get off the bus.

 You know how people talk about that one incident that left them emotionally scarred? This was it for me. That day I went home and spent a good hour in the shower crying and trying to cleanse off that vile feeling of being groped by a stranger. I told no one and I did nothing about it.

Years later, I was in high school. I had managed to score the corner seat at the back of the public bus I always took to school. I had my backpack on my lap to keep my legs warm. Halfway to my stop, I realized that the man next to me had his hand on my thigh under the backpack. I couldn’t move a muscle and I could feel his hand inching towards my inner thigh.

I felt like the 13 year old me all over again; the one that couldn’t do anything about that pervert on the bus years ago. I felt sorry for myself and angry at this loser trying to pry in between my legs. I owed it to the younger me to slap this f*cktard right on his stupid face. And that’s exactly what I did.
 THWACK!

All heads turned towards me as I lifted up my backpack and got his filthy hand off my leg. I started swearing (the ones that I knew at that time) at the top of my voice trying to hit him as I flung profanities at him and other stuff like "Tero aama laai gayera samaat!" (Yeah, I swear a lot!) The people around us saw what was going on and the women started yelling at him. Someone told the driver to stop the bus. There were talks of handing the man over to the police and some women were attempting to hit and pinch him.  Eventually, he got off the bus with pinch marks on his arms, minus his dignity.

That day, as I walked to school from the bus stop, I realized that the world is so full of perverts; men without a shred of conscience trying to get a feel wherever they can. I don’t know if it’s a mental illness or some kind of fetish thing among sexual predators. But it happens.  I have heard stories of men just letting their hairy junk fly around the place as they run after schoolgirls in dark alleys.  Some told stories of men trying to dry-hump very young boys in crowded buses. One of my friends felt a man jerk off behind her as they stood in a crowded public bus and found dried up semen on her clothes when she got home.

To people who are reading this, I urge you to teach your children and younger ones about these stuff. It’s very important to educate kids about this from a young age. Children who are being sexually abused may not even be aware that they are being victimized if they are not taught where people should not touch them. Same goes for children who might be abusing other children because they might not know their own boundaries and might continue doing so even when they are adults.

I make it a point to teach and remind my young cousins about this from time to time. And not just children and young girls and boys, everyone should prepare themselves just in case one is faced with such a situation. I believe in the mantra – “better safe than sorry”. 

So if you happen to be travelling alone a lot, it might help to-

• Learn some basic self-defense moves.
• Carry some sort of defensive item with you. Maybe a sharp paper-cutter, or a pointed nail-filer, or even a bunch of keys lodged in between your fingers. (I know it sounds paranoid and extreme, but when I was studying in India, I had this small, thin salad knife with me in my purse wherever I went. What? With the things you hear about Delhi, you never know!!)
• Get a pepper spray.  If you can’t find/afford to buy it, make your own (click here to find out how you can make it on your own)
• Make use of technology. There are apps that help you send your exact location to your near and dear ones in case of an emergency just with a touch of a button.
• Know your rights. Don’t be afraid to hit the psycho in his horny balls. It’s self-defense, bitch!

And always remember, humiliation and the public are your saviors.

 The one thing predators are most terrified of is exposure. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you are being victimized, do whatever you can to get the attention of people around you.  When the people see what is happening, they will come to your rescue.

Sooo yeah, this is all I had to say. Stay safe, everyone. 

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BOOKS ARE THE HEROES THAT OUR KIDS DESERVE, BUT NOT THE ONE THEY WANT RIGHT NOW!

What if your brother started an essay about Nepal with the line: 'Nepal is a landlocked country between India and China'? Or even better, how would you react to the first line of your Bachelor's final year studying brother's essay if it read: Nepal is a country? I'm sure you will be clear if you had any doubts about Nepal being a country or a breed of homegrown potato. Another thing that would be clear to you is that your brother is f**ed! Sorry for my French there but yeah, he is gone. Tata! All credit goes to our education system, schools and you, the parents/guardians. No thank you very much!

Those lines above didn’t come from my imagination. They are lines from essays written by real graduate level students. What's worse is that it's not a singular case. The whole country is plagued with this. Every faculty, every college has 70% of its students hopelessly failing in comprehensive writing. No wonder only 20%, 15%, 6% and even an astounding 2% student pass annually in different faculties! That’s more than a million students failing just because they couldn’t write properly what they know. Because they couldn’t memorize the right words and don’t have a rich vocabulary. I have seen my friends struggle to find the exact word for minutes, looking severely constipated and giving up eventually. Hell, I have struggled at it myself so many times!

So please can anyone tell me where did the excellent English speaking environment and English medium education that they constantly brag about go? Okay, I understand that students with government level education have difficulties primarily, because you can't expect them to have good English teacher where teachers scarcely visit the classroom. But we, the proud students of boarding schools don’t have any excuse for this ridicule of language. Actually, it's not even the students’ fault here. Neither is it that of the teachers. Well, partially it is both of their fault but let's move on for now. In fact, if we keep digging, we will reach the inevitable, (almost) clichéd conclusion that it’s the system's fault. We can't change that giant so let's look at something that we can understand and do something about. Here's my simple take on one part of the problem and a simple solution for it.

A few months ago, I started going to RR campus to study English literature mostly because I love literature and secondly because I hoped that I would learn something on writing some myself! So I went there, sat in the Masters first year class and listened to the professors. They say that the first seven minutes is the time that will decide if the students/viewers/listeners will give to the performer or in this case, teachers. If you can't get their attention for that long, you have failed. The TU teachers? They failed. Big time! Out of almost a dozen teachers, only one (Dr. Anand Sharma) could capture the class's attention for the whole period. He was the only person who knew what he was teaching and how. So, there's problem number one. Teachers!

So, I got bored and my eyes started wandering around. I looked at the students, studied them and talked to them and that's when I realized that every single one of them was there for the Master's certificate. No one was there for the love of English. There's your second problem. Students! Those are the very students who will eventually be English teachers in schools. The teachers are utterly boring. They teach by telling the students everything but the fun stuff. The students never read the original text. They can't afford all the books. I'm not sure if they want to. From the beginning of the session, they are searching for the best guess papers and guides. And they successfully upheld the tradition of becoming bad teachers. And soon, they teach the English to teenagers that lead to them writing 7 different spellings of adventurous in a single paragraph.

Of course we cannot change all this. We cannot replace all university professors, we cannot teach them how to teach nor can we help the students fall in love with the language. But there's one single solution to these problems. It will take maybe 5 years to feel the effects but trust me, it WILL have an effect. The solution is "Encourage watching English movies and reading Novels from school level." That’s it! It's as simple as that. Put two novels in every year's syllabus from class four to ten and see the difference. The schools can do that individually or even parents can do that. Parents can encourage kids to read novels like I did. Let them enjoy the Hardy boys, Harry Potter and Goosebumps. Let them join Sinbad and Robinson Crusoe in their adventures. Let them fly with Superman and go on nighttime strolls with Batman, to make people believe in a better world. Take them to movies to watch Hollywood films not the Bollywood crap. They will learn idioms and metaphors before they know what they are. Many of my friends hate the word 'book'. Let us abolish this nonsensical taboo that we have.

Reading books broadens your mind, helps you excel in life, but most of all, reading is good for the soul. Kids need to be rescued from this dark abyss we are throwing them into. Even if we don’t think so, Books are the heroes that our kids deserve, but not the one they want right now! :D

2^nd May, 2014

I wish we all could be that stupid

An interesting thing happened today in the micro. I was coming home after a tiring long day at the office and this girl with flaming red hair was sitting on the first seat of the micro bus. I was sitting a little behind on the seat placed sideways. I had just gotten up and was brainstorming on the plot of a story that I was working on and she was looking here and there in awe with her pink mask on.

When the rest of the front facing seats were occupied, the conductor asked her to sit sideways on her seat so that people can sit on the long seat just behind the driver. He said politely- “Sister, please sit sideways like this.” She seemed confused and he explained –“People need to get in there so they can sit. So please…..” And a rather interesting thing happened. She looked at the conductor and laughed as if he had suggested some highly absurd thing. She was utterly surprised which was showing on her fair face. She took off her mask and looked behind and grinned at no one in particular. I was totally appalled with her and I am sure this was the thought that crossed everyone’s mind on the micro bus- Which planet did this creature come from who thinks that sitting on that particular seat was so comical.

Writers find their character subjects in the most bizarre places and in bizarre events. I found one woman who was so irritating that a frog croaking for the last 300 years would be irritated of her in 3 minutes. We were on a micro as well and she abused me and a couple of more people in all ways possible. Physically, verbally and mentally. Well, that isn’t the weirdest incident that ever happened to me in a micro bus. Once I was on the micro in the same seat as today and 3 girls were sitting at the last seat. They were continually looking at my side and laughing. I was totally embarrassed and thrilled to have the undivided attention of 3 beautiful girls. At Thamel, I got off and went straight to college wondering what on earth those lovely girls were giggling about. I found out soon enough in the toilet that my frontal door had been wide open for public display all along. I cursed with the f word countless times then and there and for many days to come. Still, I check my door lock every time I get on anything with four wheels or legs.

Anyway, today when I saw that red headed girl smiling at people wiggling to slouch uncomfortably , I thought what a stupid girl she was. We don’t get everything we want. Such stupidity and foolishness. And suddenly I realized that I wanted to be that kind of stupid. I also wanted to be in such a place where you would have to feel strange when people travelled like that. I wish we all could be that stupid.  

2013-10-21

9:56 PM

How Facebook ruined 'Friendship' and Civilization

Note: What I am about to write may hurt a few people. Sorry folks if I hurt you with this. Especially those who tagged me on facebook. I am sure you tagged me with the best of intentions but the truth is what I believe and support . So here it is:

I got many tags in Facebook this Friendship day. It felt good. I hit like on some and commented on some. Then I laughed. I thought- 'What the hell is wrong with this world? Where have we arrived?"

I distinctly remember going to places with my friends a few years back. We used to have a lot of fun. We sang, danced, and pulled each other's legs with mean jokes and their nicknames. It was always fun. Look at us now. We tag each other in photos that we think show our friendship. Show our friendship? Cant we just tell them- I'm glad that we are friends? I bet 95% of you reading this post didn't phone a single bloody friend to wish them on that day. I bet 1% didn't meet up with friends to enjoy their company. We are too lazy and too familiar with our friends. The joy of meeting a friend accidentally on the road or someplace else after a long time has now vanished with Facebook and other social media. I can’t find things to talk about now because we meet every day online. I mostly have more than 20 friends (Facebook has told us that they are in fact our friends. I highly doubt that a simple request and a click to confirm it qualifies to 'being friends') online, sometimes they reach 50 and I don’t have a single person to talk to about anything. They don’t start the conversation and neither do I. That’s social media’s idea of connecting people. They connect us and I think they have connected us too well. They have done their job too well.

But no matter how we curse them, we can't leave them, can we? Hell, I couldn't. Maybe we can try leaving them slowly. Like losing a smoking habit. Maybe we can turn the tables and maybe we can create few Picassos and Einsteins or maybe some Shakespheres or even Mozarts. We watch many success stories on YouTube and feel awed by them but what about our story? The one that we care the most about. Yes, the people who realized their dreams did it. See it, be inspired, get up and get to work. Don’t just click on another video and spend hours ogling at the screen admiring other’s talents. It’s about time we identified our talents and did something or else we will be just 'some guy/girl' who even our grand children will not remember for long.

Social media is disturbing and distracting us from making ourselves better. Isn't that the reason for our existence? Isn’t that what civilization thrives for? All these things the social medias are doing is THEIR reason for existence and we are falling for this addictive nonsense that has a great many cons than pros. Yeah, yeah, yeah… I know. They have bright sides too. But I think the light shining on that side is too dim compared to the condescending darkness on the other end. They are charming us to darkness and believe me when I say this, civilization is at the brink of collapse here. We will doom ourselves soon.

2013-08-07 Wednesday

10:57 PM

The ways of the world

I get this strange marvelous feeling that I can change some sick ways of the world.. Maybe not in a miraculous grand scale but some miniature yet worthy steps.. but i feel totally helpless when I find the sickness so close that it constantly breathes down my neck and i cannot do a thing... Today next door, a kid was brutally beaten by his relative (either an uncle or a brother). He was squirming in bed with his arms and legs twitching and the man kept kicking him and I was watching all of it in this night's silence.... I see an old woman behind my house in our cricket ground making her meal each day.... she has no house or relatives and I watch her sorrowful face and disgustingly feel good about my life... I wish there was some way......

Original post: 15th July 2013

Why do people drive bikes like crazy?

My dear Friend..............,

       Hello, how are you? You must be sitting in front of the computer with your hand on your chin utterly bored or you might be on a laptop or a cellphone trying to find something to distract yourself from the real world. I’m writing about something about bikers. So buckle up.         
        Everyone has seen young boys trying to replicate cool moves from films like Mission Impossible and Dhoom by driving with threatening speed as if the devil himself was behind them. Well i have to admit that it is a guilty pleasure that i too share. I too have a bombastic adrenalin rush when I get behind the two wheels. I feel like I’m Tom Cruise or something and think that people are gasping with awe like they do in ads when they see a hunk with the shirts off. But of course I look like a dork and people are cursing me from the bottom of their heart. I don’t own a two wheeler (not with a motor anyway) so this kind of a thing rarely happens to me. So without a sense of guilt, I will say whatever I want to the schmuck riders. Wow. A pen does have a lot of power doesn't it? It can make a rat into a cat and vice versa (in exams mostly).


        Okay then, back to the subject my friend or I might bore you to death assuming that you aren't already. So I was talking about the ‘bikers’ or ‘riders’ or ‘riderz’ or ‘riderzz’ and so on. They have a number of reasons to ride fast. They are:


1.     The Macho man


      Every guy who can ride faster, louder and more dangerously feels like he is ‘THE MAN’. We boys feel like girls look at us with pride and respect when we drive past them making ear shattering noise and speed. If even 20% of the girls find this attractive, then either I have a very bad understanding of the female mind or all these girls are schmucks (I think using this word makes me look wiser).

2.     The competition
     Usually after college when everyone is bored of college and want to get home as fast as they can, boys like to attract as many eyes as they can. So they make an aggressive display of their riding skills which is just the making noise and riding fast which btw my little brother can do. The other guys’ ego is hurt and they start their own show. This feeling of competition is worse in the road. Overtake us and you get the hatred that Hitler had to the Jewish people. We cannot tolerate that. We then race with them until we part ways and make an asshole of ourselves.

3.     The boob-y trap
      I like to call this the boob-y trap because this is related to the boobs from the female anatomy. We increase the speed, hit the brake as hard as our poor bike can take and let the inertia do the work so that we can feel the soft warm feel of those boobs. (What? I’m going vulgar? Oh come on, don’t be such a pussy. So what, are you gonna tell me that you don’t watch porn and masturbate? If you don’t then you have a serious problem dude. Go see some doctor ASAP.) Oh yeah. This ‘boob-y trap’ also works if you want to sit on the girl’s lap and give her the feel of your flat bottom at a speed breaker. This has happened to me but unfortunately only with guys. Trust me, it’s very awkward!

4.     We are late!
     For Christ’s sake girls stop categorizing us all as assholes. Sometimes we are really in a hurry. It’s not like we always try to look like machos (idiots).       Guys, we are not the knight on a shining armor who is going to save the damsel in distress all the time. We are normal people so let’s act like one. We want a long, happy and prosperous life. I have seen enough ‘machos’ with their head, foot and hands missing in accidents. It’s not a pleasant sight to see young people with body parts missing and guts spilling all over the road. Think how it might feel to have your guts flowing on the road. Of course you idiots won’t listen because you’ve never listened to anyone and who the fuck is this guy who is so preachy? Hope I won’t see you in the street dead the next time. I hope you will write to me too.             
                                                                       Always hopeful                                                                            Your friend

Ps: Please do comment. It means a lot.....

Strange people I've known --------- 4

After a long interval I have returned with Strange People I've Known. There was a sister-friend of mine .I was in my mamaghar in my childhood. I stayed and studied there for years when I came to be close to her. Actually, my mamaghar was just next to hers and I am a distant relative to her. She was older than me and economically very poor. But still we were close because I didn’t have any other friends at home. I don’t remember much but she was the one who taught me a lot of mischiefs. We did some together. But I was a very stubborn one. I was ghamandi and I was warned not to talk 2 her because she was a bit careless in study and she used to go wherever she wished. Even her parents didn’t care. They never did care. I mean her mother wanted to but due to her own complications she couldn’t. Her father was a drunkard and was never concerned about her. I didn’t use to give her to touch what was mine and I used to hit her too. And I deeply regret it even today. But she never laid her hand on me. Even if I was smaller than her, she never touched me. Maybe she was scared of my grandparents who loved me very much and my aunt who loved me so much that once she beat a boy to death just for touching me.  I didn’t ever understand why she was so careless and at the same time she was careful with me. Maybe she was attached to me because she had no brother. But even when I hit her badly(since I had a violent temper), she didn’t mind. I lost her some years back. She was murdered in cold blood. And the killer was her own husband. She was a week from delivering her child when that bastard threw her from the Bridge of Seti River along with the unborn child. He is now rotting  behind bars. And I always pray god to punish him for it. And I morn for her death but am grateful that she got relieved of all the troubles and tensions of the world. Rest in Peace my strange sister.