Detour from Love’s Path


It has been a long time since I last posted. After flying to see my beloved Shiva, I needed time to heal, nine months apparently. Perhaps, it would have taken longer had the Universe not intervened.

Nearly a year ago, I did it. I overcame my fear and took my daughter and I across the country to find Shiva. I thought I had prepared myself for anything, but I hadn’t. I thought that I was okay with any outcome, and I wasn’t. Somehow I expected that my grandiose gesture would somehow win back the heart of my dearest love. Unfortunately, there is no heart to win back. There was no heart ever lost.

I was pleased with the Universe bringing everything into being. The last minute plane ticket, booked mere hours before flying. The educated guess of where and how to find him. They all played out. After being quite a shock to Shiva, after all arriving on his doorstep unannounced, he joined me for a five hour heart to heart.

I am so grateful. I could have gone to find no one home. He could have rejected even seeing me. He could have been angry or hurt, but he wasn’t. He was calm, confused, shocked, but kindhearted and loving. It was during this night, that we came clean with our feelings, unspoken for months. There was no doubt in his body language or words. He still loved me. He still loved me every bit as much as I loved him. He still loved the daughter we’d raised, so much it brought him to tears. But it didn’t change the family dynamics at play.

I couldn’t help but cry as he explained that he’d never change his mind, that he’d never come back to me, that he’d never accept a life with me that meant a “broken family.” And my heart just broke and broke and broke. In fact, it still breaks every day that I live, not knowing him. Because after holding me in his arms, kissing my forehead, shaking, and gasping for breath, he assured me that he’d never see me again. He begged me to never enter his life, that we would be parted forever. And I couldn’t accept that.

I still don’t. All of my friends and family tell me I am foolish. I tried, don’t get me wrong. I spent much time throwing his photographs in the trash, removing traces of him from my Facebook profile. I spent the rest of my time, crying, pining, and attempting in vain to move on. I dated men who were all very compatible and likely will be wonderful partners to a woman who can love them. But I have to admit to myself after these long months that I am not free to love anyone else.

Recognizing this limitation has been a freeing thought. Allowing me to love myself for the undying devotion I possess for Shiva. I ask myself, “How often does anyone love another this true? How many people go on for years unable to even consider someone else?” I feel as though I am grieving a spouse that passed away, and not a relationship ended. And I know that it is okay.

It may be insane. That is okay. Love is insane. Real love, true love, magic love. It is all insane. There is no rationality that can be assigned to love. And it is magic. And when I accepted that living with this faith is better than living in the despair of trying to move on, my life had joy returned to it.

With this peace, I have been thriving. And then, only a couple weeks ago. I see him. Shiva, my love, who is supposed to be living so far away. He is standing before me, clear as day. He is across the street, it is raining. He sees me at the same time and we both instantly freeze. I tell my sister standing next to me that I see him and try to point him out, but the rain is too heavy for her to see. I start to walk to him, but crossing the street in a trance I almost step in front of a car. My sister grabs my arm. I look back and see him walking to the edge of the street too, but it is harder to see.
I look at my sister and daughter and tell them I think I should go, it has to be him. And my sister says it can’t be. I look back and he’s still standing there on the edge of the curb, as though, he is also unsure if I am here. I wave and he holds his hand up to his eyes to block the rain to see more clearly. I wave again and he stands straight, but doesn’t move.
My brain kicks in and says, “That isn’t Shiva. He lives more than 3000 miles away. He told me he’d never come back here.”
We aren’t in a place I ever go. The neighborhood is strange to me except for the one corner we are standing on, the corner where Shiva and I used to go only when memories of our California vacation pester us enough. For on that trip, we became committed. On that trip, we made our plans, after that trip, we were cemented as a pair and it was that trip that led to our marriage plans. And in fond memories, we’d come to this corner, talk about all we’d done, how we’d been through so much that trip, and how we’d grown closer together. And then we’d sit and eat in that restaurant that reminded us of the peak of our Cali experience.
All of that flashed through my mind as I stared at Shiva’s form. My daughter was crying that she was getting wet, my sister pulling my arm, and I could scarcely breathe. Everything in me pulled me to him. But the longer my brain hammered into me, the less he looked like Shiva. With a heavy sigh, I pulled myself away from this man’s stare and we retreated to the warm dry of the restaurant. After getting our names in, I ventured back out to see him, but he was no longer there. I laughed to myself for the mirage I had seen.

That was until the day before yesterday. Two days ago, I learned it was my beloved. A mutual friend, ever our mediator, shared with me that my most dear love was there. And that I had walked away. But, he said, not to worry, it isn’t healthy for me to worry about this. At first, I was worried. At first I regretted my lost chance. Would the universe ever grant me another?

But today I realize, of course. Most definitely the universe will bring us together again. It brought us together in the first place, and each time after, and through many trials. I smile as I remind myself that there are no coincidences. That Shiva and I have always agreed there is no such thing as chance. I tell myself there is a reason I walked away, a reason we missed that connection. Because it wasn’t really missed.

In fact, it is the light that began burning in me weeks ago, that rekindled my hope. Even when I thought it was a waking dream, I had found myself riding the wave of joy that he and I had always shared. And I can feel that he and I are sharing it again.

Our truest loves never truly leave us. They are in our hearts. I look forward to the time we are close to each other once again. Our year anniversary, of the day he said he never would see me again nears. And here, with no choice from either of us, he is proved wrong. Some things, we decide with our minds, others we decide with our hearts. And our hearts, they will lead us on the right path, even while our brains take us on detours.

More lyrics to translate — Farkeara Na Aau — Alish Bikram Shah


Malai chodeara jau,sara sansaar hasau
Kalpana jai belau tara farkeara na aau
Yaada Bani Na Aau,Sapani ma Na Aau
Bihani Ko Woojeanima Malai Na Beujhyau

Samaya tyo theyo jaba huntheu hami saath maa
nachutiney bacha gartheu hami harek raat maa
lukai afno najar timle chumtheu mero ooth maa
Ti kasam ti bacha hamle racheko katha

timlai yaad cha ki chaina hami mettheu ek arka ko betha
bhana aaj khai k bhayo timilai maya
artha bujhera ni kina bhaeu yeti dherai tada
rachechu maile yi sabda timro yaad maa dubera

sochera aaj asu jharcha maya fakau kasari
sayad yestai rahecha prem ko artha bhani bujau yesari
garho cha yo maan lai timi bina samalna
galti bhaeu mero nabhuji prem lai aangalna

birsana sakney chaina ma kahile timro yaad haru
badlidai gaye pani mausam ko harek ritu
metney chaina kahile pani yi adrishya ghau haru
metney chaina kahile pani yi adrishya ghau haru

Malai Chodeara jau,sara Sansaar hasau
Kalpana Jhai Belau Tara Farkeara Na Aau
Yaada Bani Na Aau,Sapani ma Na Aau
Bihani Ko Woojeanima Malai Na Beujhyau

suntheu aaj kaal timle kina po mero bhawana
chadi gayo timi mari mero harek sapana
ma ghumekai thiyi woripari timro pagal sari
tara kina chodeu timle mero saath aaj ekkashi

maya garchu bhani timi gaeu nisthuri bani
kina chodeu timle haath saath dinchu bhani

timi nai ta theyoo mero ankha ki nani
thapi dai cha sabda haru prem ko jhuto kahani maa

jaleko cha maan aaj timro prem ko natak maa
garthey maya dherai timlai tara timle bujenau
sacho maya barnan garda timle kahile sunenau
chokho maya maan bhitra ko timle kahile dekhenau

birseu timle kasam khako hamle deurali maa
ghantau ghantau ghumi bastheu hami chautari maa
bujey kai thiye maile timro harek chahana
bhana k paeu timle chodna lai bahana

Malai Chodeara jau,sara Sansaar hasau
Kalpana Jhai Belau Tara Farkeara Na Aau
Yaada Bani Na Aau,Sapani ma Na Aau
Bihani Ko Woojeanima Malai Na Beujhyau

Samjhi rahechu ma biteka dinn haru
hamle bitayeka sangai ramaila pal haru
timi bina kasari katu yo aadheri raat haru
aajhai aalai cha timle diyeka chotharu
garho cha timi bina yo maan lai samalna
bhana k garu aba yo maan lai bhahaalauna
timi bina aadhuro lagcha yo sansaar
chadera gayou timi aaj prem ko durbar
k kami payou timle bhana mero maya maa
aasu jharecha aaja,aaja timro yaad maa
lekhechu yo geet timro maya maan maa rakhera
maya garchu timlai hera yo sansaar tyagera
biswas chaina bhaney hera yo chati chirera
maya tyagi gaeu timi aaj malai chadera
jani najani angalyou betha sabai bhulera
aaj pokhdaichu betha afno yo geet gayera

Malai Chodeara jau,sara Sansaar hasau
Kalpana Jhai Belau Tara Farkeara Na Aau
Yaada Bani Na Aau,Sapani ma Na Aau
Bihani Ko Woojeanima Malai Na Beujhyau*2

Oh that Malai, Maile, business again!


Tonight, I met a guy from Nepal working at a restaurant. He introduced himself as “I am from Nepal.” and I bounced out with, “Ma Nepali seekdaichhu.” (I’m learning Nepali.”) His face looked surprise, but I thought, you are the one who brought this up, I didn’t ask where you were from. Then I asked his name, which I thought I understood, but had a hard time clarifying with him so I took a pen and wrote it down in Devanagari to clear it up. He seemed even more surprised and exclaimed, “You can write this way!” to which I answered, “ali ali” (little bit). Before I left, I said, “Tapaii malai betera kushee lagyo.” which I’m pretty sure means, “You are happy to meet me,” even though what I meant to say was “Tapaiilai betera kushee lagyo.” meaning, “I’m happy to met you.” He just smiled, in a boyish way and said, “Yes” which kind of threw me off. Here’s to that malai stuff messin’ me up again.

Blown away by Women LEAD


Story Telling Workshop on January 7th/8th.

All I can say is read through the amazing exercises they are doing with middle school girls in KTM. I’m sure this is just the surface of what is sure to be a life altering relationship between these young girls and this amazing organization.

My dearest love, please don’t let your fear guide your choices.


Fear, we let it lead
let it guide, let it take our peace of mind.

When will we,
making our choices
based in our suffering,
is taking our hearts, and letting them die.
This pain endured has got to end,

when will our lives be whole again

could it be part of the master plan

to be alone,here, at the bottom of the fall.

The terror wells within me,
all but an ounce of hope is lost
and our fantasy of being together, becomes my all consuming thought.

Don’t let the fear take over,
don’t let the fear take hold
light the lamp of hope in your heart,
And never let it go.
Open up your eyes, see the path unfold.
Welcome in our love
let peace manifest in your soul.

Aba, ma chahanchhu mero English lyrics utha garna lae Nepali.


jãã icchaa, tyãã upaae: Where there is a will there is a way. 

Mero upaae, hamro gaana gana. (My plan, our song includes: My plan includes our song) Tara, malai kehi tapaiiko guhaar chahincha. (But I need your help.)  Ke tapaen male sahayog garnu huncchha? (Will you all help me?)

Malai usle gaaunu hamro gaana Nepalima, ma guhaar aghi utha garnchhu. For me to sing him our song in, I need to translate the lyrics first.

Keep in mind these are incredibly personal lyrics, written and sung only for my Shiva, but to do this right, I want to sing them in Nepali. This isn’t exactly how the song goes, but its a better less artistic form. I’ll attempt my own translations where possible. Here it goes:

Why would we put a limit on infinity?
Kina (why) hami(we) anta(limit) lai(for?) infinity?

Why put a range on possibility?
Kina chahanchhu simaa lai sambhaabanaa?
Why want to limit on possibility?

I don’t get it, why would we?
Ma aundaina ( I don’t know) kina hami garchhau (why we would do?)
What is the reason to bound our chemistry?
Hijo ke kaaran(what is the reason) barnu(to fence) hamro(our) chemistry?
Why would be bind our affinity?
Kina hamilai gaara hamro affinity?

Cannot put a range on our love eternally
When will you recognize
we’ve hit the nth degree. (being a play on math equations using n as a variable…have ZERO idea how to include a reference like that in Nepali, but if that part stays english, its alright)
Just when falling into despair
we go walking, no, dancing on air
With defenses waning, but not giving a care.

This feels like approaching infinity
why not give in to this feeling
We have to admit
that its good to be.

I know you are worried my hopes can’t be met
And I know I don’t have you convinced
Abandoning fears over an outcome is best
Let’s just appreciate being blessed.
Let our hearts be open and not be repressed.

This looks like blinding infinity,
why would we want to put restraint on this imagery
let’s both admit, there is more to see.

I know all day you’re busy daydreaming.
So am I.
And symbiotically, we are designing our reality.
Who incepted this love
you or me?

What is your address? Nepali Translation


Say, you have met a wonderful person on your stay in Nepal and decide you just must see them again? Or is that you would love to send them a Valentine’s card for the upcoming Holiday, or do you have a birthday gift in a box just waiting to be sent? Whatever your reason, you google searcher, you sought how to ask this question in Nepali, so here we go:

ṭhēgaanaa is a word I found for home address.
patta is another one i found, but is partnered with leaf and foliage in that dictionary so I probably wouldn’t use it.
sambodhan is another word I found, but it means address in the form like, “how do i address you, what is your title, what do i call you, or the verb form to address someone, to call out to someone” I’m not very clear on this use, but again, if your purpose is finding the person’s home, I wouldn’t use this word either.
So, assuming that I understood your google search properly, When asking for the address, you are hoping for the place to visit or send mail. For this, I would ask,
Timro thegaana ke cha? (I use cha here because I do not think that address is a permanent state, however this to be state has always been confusing to me and my intuition would have me us ho instead.)
Also, I’m using the timi familiar form here, but for a more formal relationship, I believe Tapaiiko thegaana ke cha? is more appropriate.

Dil To Pagal Hai: Part II


After serious meditation on the issue and deep soul searching, I’ve found myself with a plan in my heart. Its crazy and my best friends spare no time in pointing out the absolute insanity of implementing my scheme. Only one very dear friend, our intermediary who is greatly responsible for bringing it to our attention that our love was requited from the start, is supportive. And he says, not only is it a good idea, its imperative. If I don’t, I’ll regret it forever, and he’s right.
And so, I’ve begun envisioning how this reunion will be organized. I need to wait to hear from our intermediary to see if this plan is actually a possibility. But I do believe the universe is preparing me for this, a sudden influx of financial resources accompanied by a sudden break in work scheduled, low air fares = why not make the journey?
But how to surprise your soul mate, yet ex-lover? What I must first consider is his personality. And its that of a hopeless romantic. When he came to break up with me more than a year ago, he flew across the country to do so. Such is his integrity and his romantic view of the world. Every gesture he’s ever made has been  worth being in a Yash Chopra film. I’ve been the grateful and surprised recipient of all of these amazingly thought out spectacles. I’ve often wondered how I could ever match his flair for romance, how could I ever match his creativity. And here, its hit me, and I can’t let it out of my head.
Its just, how to orchestrate the whole thing? I feel like I’m on such a limited timetable. My window of opportunity opens so soon. I don’t want to share my plans here in case he thinks to read this while we are not talking, but suffice to say, it might as well be a scene from a modern day Casablanca.

Dil to Pagal Hai: Crazy Love Story


The film is great, but the message is greater. When we are in love, we are crazy. We do unreasonable things, all thoughts of what we should do go out the window. My relationship with Shiva has had this element of crazy meets beautiful romance drama. But do we long for the love or for the drama? In my case, they are both wrapped into one.
Our love story is a dramatic one, filled with mystery, intrigue, passion, surprise. The lovers begin as strangers that find themselves living together under less than typical circumstances. They are blessed with two intermediaries in the form of a child and a sincere, empathetic friend. When, they meet, the spark is there. Clear and bright, both recognize it and log it into their respective journals. Afraid of what the spark will lead to they attempt to suppress it, but neither intermediary will allow it.
After months of thoughtful gazes, two a.m. soulful lessons, heartfelt question/answer sessions over home blended loose tea, the two find themselves walking in the warm sunshine of the south gazing upon local works of art. They share their first meal, their first concert, their first donation to the homeless, and their first brief touch. A brush against the skin of one hand to another and sharing a gaze filled with sparkles in their eyes. The music of live performers and the scent of incense from a vendor adding to the sunset lit moment.
Flash forward to a first “date” a warm night lit by a full moon, Both have found themselves secluded in a back corner of a large boisterous table full of friends who know each other well. Shiva knows one person at the other end, and I know no one. Our sequestration leads to another shared meal and quiet whispers to each other. These unheard thoughts about the rest of our company only gives us an excuse to lean in closer to one another, hoping to have yet another brush of a nose against a chin, or a giggle shared with those crows feet in his eyes. All amounting to a gleeful bike ride home. Just before reaching home, he says, “are you a lover or a fighter?” and I answer, “a lover, of course”. He nudges me gently, “but what do you love that you’d fight for?” and all I can think is, “you.”
The first kiss, as with all first kisses, a momentous occasion. One that leads up to itself with immense tension. And in this case permission. It’s so close and so far, but neither dare step too far forward into it. They wait, and finally Shiva breaks the silence, “May I kiss you?”
Is it enough that the story already feels like a far flung chick flick? Do they dare add lyrics to their madness? Oh, they dare. A song that become’s Shiva’s song, one that becomes a metaphor for the entire relationship, one based in their unified love of math and its definition of the universe. A song with lyrics founded in the enigma that is infinity, the limitless experience of love, the boundless range of possibilities that comes with finding one’s soul-mate.
From more joint love songs shared with one another to impromptu adventures to the natural springs and the warm blue oceans to the tallest waterfall in the land, to cities and vast open land, from one corner of the country to the other.
The love story is filled with the surprises from uplifting tales of overcoming childhood fears to facing the despair of family disapproval. There are mysteries about the other uncovered, barriers stretched and boundaries broken. There are disappearances and reappearances and plenty of tears and laughter.
Are all love stories this way? The human drama dictating our paths? Here, I am writing about my past 2+ years as though it were a movie review. But that’s how it feels now.
Shiva is gone and silent. He neither returns calls or texts, didn’t even acknowledge when I told him I was in the hospital and barely able to breathe. I hear from our good friend, that he’s pained, just as much as I am, that he’s trying to be honorable, to let me move on, to refrain from giving me false hope. Yet another climax in our story is here, do we make it, do we fix it? How many love stories see the lovers separated by some force only for a great awakening to happen and force them back together? Is my heart crazy for believing in such things? Most friends say, “let it go”, “there are more fish in the sea.” And here I am, willing to starve if not have the fish that is mine.
“No,” I tell myself, “I won’t give up on this love, I won’t accept a limit on infinity.” And so I focus my energies on manifesting our reunion, Completely with suspense, song, and cheesy romantic flare.

Hello Friend (Multi-lingual Edition)


Someone found their way to my site today by Googling “hello friend in many languages” and although I’ve already addressed “hello friend” in Nepali, I thought I would address this in every language I can say this phrase in.

“Namaste Saathi” -Nepali

“Namaste Mitra” – Hindi

“Hola, Amigo(a)”- Spanish

“Bonjour mon Ami” – French

“Jambo, Bwana” – Swahili

“Ni Hao, Pengyou” – Mandarin

“Hallo, Freund” – German