Katha: Episode 3 | Marijau | Sajjan Raj Vaidya x Bikki Gurung

Shalu Kayastha.

part i

This was the day-to-day reality of her life.

She was born and raised in grave poverty. Wherein scarcity, dispute, conflict-of-finances, dissatisfaction, discontentment, and worst a mocking nihilism was a way of life.

Nevertheless, whenever we met, she radiated to me a rare, genuine blend of heart warming contentment with whatever could’ve been afforded or say’ could’ve been provided for, by her family — in terms of what's in the plate, what is on her body and what's over the head  inclusive. Despite? Despite! Delightful. Holy. Jolly. Happy. Go. Lucky.  — Breathing. Giggling. Playing. Smiling — she also had mountains and mountains of love along with strong sense of purpose and a sheer will for growth and contribution in her life.

Not everyone knew though, but she terribly wept at times. In ordinary slow days and on so, so many quiet nights, largely for her terrible, wrecking, vengeful, out-of-control, demanding, crushing, cruel, cruel and damn cruel luck. Alone! Mostly, comprehending the fact that she was brought up by two very hardworking, but low income earning parents.

part 2

However, without any shred of doubt, and from how I remember her, she gracefully accepted everything so damn courageously. Did every-fucking-thing that she must do as any obedient and disciplined and well-rounded human (or say’ specially our own sons and daughters) are expected to willingly and heartily do.

She had dutifully supported her parents in all their chores; and like any teenage girl she’d also post as many photographs of them on her facebook wall on different occasions. Long story short, she had gleefully contributed her compassionate share into re-organizing and re-shaping her family matters amid waves of constant chaos and blinding sense of depression, deprivation, self doubts and self-contemplation.

I reckon it’s absurd to even think, but putting myself in her shoes, what I feel in my gut is  — whatever had her wake up every morning and live and expend and fight every fucking day; like literally every.other.fucking.day, at the core must be COURAGE!

Courage to take responsibility of her shit. And act.

Courage to be optimistic and hope for better and brighter days ahead. And persevere.

Courage to make her life helpful and meaningful irrespective of pain and suffering. Courage!

part 3

Now this aches my heart to confront that I can only wish she had lived LONGER!

Long enough to live her FULL life.

(internal dialogue…)

How could I’ve known that the last time we had met and sat together, and talked to each-other on that blue bus was indeed our last ride for this lifetime.

I still remember, even at that moment of our final exchange; deep down inside, I was honestly, truthfully very proud of her; for all her sacrifices, her calm, kind and blissful energy which she radiated.

Not in my lifetime (of course, unless sickened with dementia or other brain diseases), I will never forget waving her that final goodbye as I rushed out of that public transport’s door!

 

We lost her in April, Earthquake of 2015.

Shalu Kayastha!

That evening, we cremated her muddied body, and her muddied potentials, and her muddied courage.

 

This

my unbeknownst friends,

…

is a real story of a 20 years old girl.

This my dear friends,

is an epitome of true courage in the face value of true despair!

And, that my friend for ultimately what occurred

is a real loss, … real suffering.

This my dear friends,

… is pure grief. Naked!

part 4

A fat takeaway — you are fucking alive! She’s not!

So, no matter how shitty the scene is to you of your own inventories in life, no matter how much pain and unjustness have painted their claw marks in your life — you will always be one UP from her. Because, you have a chance in life.

You have the potential to overcome any … any fucking obstacles.

You just don’t know it yet!

 

As Jordan B. Peterson says,

Life is suffering, so get your act together!

 

So, Gratitude 101 – Shalu Kayastha.