I tried to close my eyes as the wheels started accelerating. Tried is the word that should be highlighted. The excitement, however, kept them wide open, staring as the tarmac kept disappearing. I watched as the ground started getting further and further away and let out a breath. A few heartbeats later, we were heading towards the sky. Although technically not my first flight, I consider this to be the first for many reasons. I closed my eyes and wondered what lay ahead in the skies of Kathmandu.
With Pearl Jam’s “Even Flow” on repeat in my ears, I slipped on my sunglasses and adjusted my jacket, picturing myself as a cool guy from a movie. Below me, the lights of Colombo were disappearing into firefly pinpoints, the clouds churning in the skies. I settled back in my seat and kept my gaze outside the window.
Freezin’ rests his head on a pillow made of concrete again ooh yeah
Oh feelin’ maybe he’ll see a little betters any days ooh yeah
Oh hand out faces that he sees come again ain’t that familiar
Oh dark grin he can’t help when he’s happy he looks insane
My thoughts travel to the end of my Advanced Levels. A week after the Chemistry paper I started working. It put a smile on my face remembering the people, people who became more of a family than colleagues and friends. The countless hours we spent working, each counted a lot in the end. Especially when getting an envelope with your name on it at the end of the month. I touched my jacket as I remembered the fond memory of a few of us heading into a shop to buy a shirt for a team member’s birthday. Seeing a jacket on the rack, I and a friend joked about how expensive it was and how we’d maybe buy it from this month’s salary.
As a guy who used to wear oversized plain shirts, but with a fixation on jackets, I’d be lying if I say that didn’t light a spark in me. But instead of spending a big portion of my salary on a jacket, I worked harder than ever and earned close to 20 times the price of the jacket in that month. But without buying it, I waited 5 months later and bought the one I was wearing right now. Smiling at the time it took, and the changes from 5 months back, a grin passed over my face beyond the clouds.
******
Passing the millions of boxes that turned out to be the apartments of New Delhi, a quick transit from Indhira Gandhi International Airport to the connecting flight had the expansive airport going in a flash. After many a technological setback, I met my mother and uncle there, who came by a different flight earlier. Settling into the flight, a little close to 2 hours later, the tarmac of Tribhuvan International Airport kissed the wheels. My first breath of the Kathmandu air was followed by a sense of pride at having bought my first airplane ticket.
As a child, accompanying my mother on her researches had led me to explore my own researches. The result of which, was that we were presenting a few topics at a conference here. After changing currency we found our way to a taxi, which would take us to a small and quiet hotel at the heart of Kathmandu, Thamel. Unloading and unpacking, an unexplainable feeling was buzzing around me. As night fell, we wandered the streets trying to find a satisfactory restaurant. After a salty dinner, I returned to the hotel while my mother and uncle went out to explore the street a bit more, a potential shopping spree scenting in the air.
Chatting a while with the owner and manager, and playing with the snowy white Japanese Spitz was my relaxing time there. The day which followed, filled with a ton of preparation. As presentations were remade and rechecked, the slight feeling of anxiety coursed in my veins. Not only was this my first time abroad, but it was also my first conference as a presenter. The morning of the 13th of May, 2018 was a big day. As I took the mic and stepped on the stage, for a second I looked around at all the professors and lecturers in front of me and felt a grin forming. Here I was, the youngest face in the crowd and I could hear Eddie Vedder’s voice screaming in my head, “Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies”.
The successful evening that followed was all I ever needed as confidence. Looking back, that was my first, and here I was preparing for my 10th conference now. The years went with a plethora of experiences. But back to looking back again…
******
Kneelin’ looking through the paper though he doesn’t know to read, ooh yeah
Oh, prayin’, now to something that has never shown him anything
Oh, feelin’, understands the weather or that winters on its way
Oh, ceilings, few and far between all the legal halls of shame, yeah
The vast colors of the streets captured my heart. This was a busy market square, but as beautiful as an enchanted wilderness. The streets were bursting at the seams with Kashmir and Hemp fiber bags and clothes. Brightly colored and patterned, a rainbow had seemingly collided into a patch of cloth and dripped into the strains of the fabric. A vibrant blue shirt with wooden buttons on the neck and a colorful string pattern on the sleeves and neckline caught my eyes. Reminding myself that it’s months of hard work and that I also needed souvenirs that weren’t edible as well, the blue shirt became mine soon after.
Being a country at a crossroads, Nepal was filled with a multitude of tribes. Each, having its own cultural identity, many aspects of which were both mystical and miraculous, had an embodiment in trinkets and practices. A small shop that looked more like a treasure hoarder’s lair dragged my feet towards it. The many carved wooden masks, inspiring both horror and awe in the nerves looked down at me. Necklaces of beads and stones, each carved and designed ornately were hung everywhere. The most interesting treasure in this hoard to me, however, was a miracle of physics and differential equations as I learned later. A singing bowl, heavily set with copper and tin on a plush velvet and gold cushion was my prize. Used extensively in healing and in a religious context in these mountains, a wooden mallet is sometimes rubbed around it as the air column inside resonates. The outcome of which is a beautiful hum echoing as its volume steadily grows.
Following my souvenir stops, three large and durable bags were bought. By three I assumed that two would be carried by either me or my uncle. The rest of the day was spent in a flurry all around the streets of Kathmandu as chocolates, sarees, and shoes were bought endlessly. The only stop that I didn’t grumble about was the local guitar store, which disappointed me with the no-pick policy. However, the store next to it did get to hear some very well played Grunge riffs, courtesy of yours truly. Dusk grew heavily as we, in the end, found ourselves lost in the busy streets. Tired, angry at having to carry so many things, and exasperated, somehow or the other we found our way to the hotel again.
******
The next morning dawned on the last full day in Kathmandu. As my mother and uncle went on a shopping spree again, I decided to stay in and explore the local block a bit more. The result of which was me learning and exploring the plethora of woodwork and myths. Feeling that the ornate carvings were a bit too much for my expenses, I found myself at a small shop in a corner. Key tags and beads surrounded the walls. A dream-catcher with wooden beads and black and white webbing caught my eyes. And at the same time, a bracelet caught my dreams. Beautiful white beads with heart-throbbing black patterns drawn carefully on them strung together with a silky black string. The little trinkets I bought along with the dream-catcher wasn’t a steep expense, but my heart was already wrapped in it. Bargaining skills at a minimum, I decided to strike a deal with the owner.
After a few minutes of playing ball with the prices, we finally managed on the question at hand. The owner laughed as he asked me why I was so fixated on the bracelet. I looked at him eye to eye, he wasn’t much older than me I assumed. “One day, there’s going to be someone special, so special that she’ll mean the universe to me. This bracelet is for her, and I must have it”. He looked at me, again, now a staring contest. A few minutes later, I merged the winner, and with me, a dream as well.
******
Even flow
Thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh he doesn’t know, so he chases them away
Someday yet he’ll begin his life again
Life again, life again
Over two years later, the sound of smooth jazz filled the air around us. Ever since the day I returned from Kathmandu, jaw-dropping at the sight of the Himalayas, seemingly at arm’s reach, many things changed. One day I wake up to feel the permanent loss of a best friend. One week I find myself in the solace of isolation. The next day, I’m out on the road, listening to something way out of generation and thinking about the fragility of life. One month I find myself celebrating as a conference was organized and finished. One year later, I’m still wondering why I’m at a creative standstill.
And them, with the changing seasons, I find myself endlessly staring at the screen as an emotion fills my consciousness. Months passed and the drops of rainbows that fell on me was my motivation each morning. Singing “Drive” from a hundred miles away, there was a spark that I hadn’t felt for years. Her eyes became nebulae and her smile a reason to go on. And as we sat there, I told her to close her eyes and took her hand in mine. A dream was on her wrist when she opened her eyes again…
By Rtr. Dasith Tilakaratne
Image courtesies: Author
Ishara says
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Chiyasha says
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Dasith Tilakaratna says
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