"Excuse me..." abit louder this time.The adrenaline in my blood goes higher. May be higher than it was before..may be to the top of the Mt. Everest and may be even higher. But I don't think I have any other option rather than to calm down.
"You have to calm down." I remind myself."You have to decorate that sweet little smile on your face and show your white teeth glistening because of that Colgate in the morning. Let the adrenaline settle down. Please..shhhh.." Finally I am here again at low land, flying straight down from the peak of Mt. Everest. You might wonder how I can be at the top of Mt. Everest, even without oxygen cylinder on my back and all those fancy suits on my body. I would like you to know that I am not strong enough to carry those big cylinders, all the way to the peak. I will be happy enough if I can only make it through to the base camp. But still, I was up there at the peak, looking down at the world totally different. The only difference being I was at the peak of anger and irritation, the Mt Everest that rose suddenly due to the collision of anger, irritation and frustration as well, you might say.
It's been two years since I left my home country to get totally "stuck" in this foreign land. The land of dreams..of course...This is the land of dreams...dreamer's land...dreamer's country. I totally agree with it...and may be that's the most probable reason that makes me dream about my parents, brother and friends....I would dream that I would be with all of them once again, like how we used to be together...I would be playing with my little sisters...yep..I would dream to be happy once again..Every morning..then I wouldl wake up to confront myself," Boy..it was really a sweet dream." and I would laugh myself..repeating," true, this is land of dreams"
You know what.. Sometimes you have to wear a mask on your face..Technically speaking, I don't have any mask on but still I got a mask on my face. The mask I'll never be able to put off. The mask I never intended to put on but still it's on and may be I can pretend that my face is without pimples and blackheads under that mask. But that is not the case again.The mask is totally transparent and all those pimples, blackheads and as a whole, my face is visible, to me, to you and to everyone as well. Now you might be eager to know what kind of mask is that. Might not be strange enough but it is the mask of "foreigner".
A white dude passes by me. His face has a "different" expression when he looks at me. Those wrinkles on his face has carving of a word "Damn foreigner" and I don't know why I am the only one to be able to read those carvings. I am not a calligrapher, not at all but may be I learned some of the calligraphy after going through Dan Brown's novel " Digital Fortress" or may be because I lived in Kathmandu, a city full of wood carvings and stone carvings. I would go to my class and everybody would have strange look at me. I won't speak a word because I got the title " foreigner" stamped on my face that would prevent me from speaking, not technically though. The mask is tight enough to prevent me from opening my mouth. May be it's a good thing that I am aware of that title, at least a title I earned in such a small period of stay in the United States. Isn't it a good thing to be recognized ? Of course it is a good thing. At least, I take it that way. I feel myself very proud to be recognized that way among people. May be you should also feel proud for that.
I would like to share all of these "good experiences" with people around here and finally try to speak up...then guess what people would reply.........come on.... you know answer...."excuse me.." I told you.you knew the answer....
Date: January 7, 2010
"You have to calm down." I remind myself."You have to decorate that sweet little smile on your face and show your white teeth glistening because of that Colgate in the morning. Let the adrenaline settle down. Please..shhhh.." Finally I am here again at low land, flying straight down from the peak of Mt. Everest. You might wonder how I can be at the top of Mt. Everest, even without oxygen cylinder on my back and all those fancy suits on my body. I would like you to know that I am not strong enough to carry those big cylinders, all the way to the peak. I will be happy enough if I can only make it through to the base camp. But still, I was up there at the peak, looking down at the world totally different. The only difference being I was at the peak of anger and irritation, the Mt Everest that rose suddenly due to the collision of anger, irritation and frustration as well, you might say.
It's been two years since I left my home country to get totally "stuck" in this foreign land. The land of dreams..of course...This is the land of dreams...dreamer's land...dreamer's country. I totally agree with it...and may be that's the most probable reason that makes me dream about my parents, brother and friends....I would dream that I would be with all of them once again, like how we used to be together...I would be playing with my little sisters...yep..I would dream to be happy once again..Every morning..then I wouldl wake up to confront myself," Boy..it was really a sweet dream." and I would laugh myself..repeating," true, this is land of dreams"
You know what.. Sometimes you have to wear a mask on your face..Technically speaking, I don't have any mask on but still I got a mask on my face. The mask I'll never be able to put off. The mask I never intended to put on but still it's on and may be I can pretend that my face is without pimples and blackheads under that mask. But that is not the case again.The mask is totally transparent and all those pimples, blackheads and as a whole, my face is visible, to me, to you and to everyone as well. Now you might be eager to know what kind of mask is that. Might not be strange enough but it is the mask of "foreigner".
A white dude passes by me. His face has a "different" expression when he looks at me. Those wrinkles on his face has carving of a word "Damn foreigner" and I don't know why I am the only one to be able to read those carvings. I am not a calligrapher, not at all but may be I learned some of the calligraphy after going through Dan Brown's novel " Digital Fortress" or may be because I lived in Kathmandu, a city full of wood carvings and stone carvings. I would go to my class and everybody would have strange look at me. I won't speak a word because I got the title " foreigner" stamped on my face that would prevent me from speaking, not technically though. The mask is tight enough to prevent me from opening my mouth. May be it's a good thing that I am aware of that title, at least a title I earned in such a small period of stay in the United States. Isn't it a good thing to be recognized ? Of course it is a good thing. At least, I take it that way. I feel myself very proud to be recognized that way among people. May be you should also feel proud for that.
I would like to share all of these "good experiences" with people around here and finally try to speak up...then guess what people would reply.........come on.... you know answer...."excuse me.." I told you.you knew the answer....
Date: January 7, 2010
