Am I Different Now?

I rushed back to my hometown Janakpur where my parents were anxiously waiting for me. Last time when I was in Janakpur, it was during winter days. Although there was no sunshine for days, I did not complain. I was happy wearing winter clothes after a year of hot weather in GA, USA. This time, everyone that knew of this place had warned me about the extreme hot weather. Although I supposed it must be as hot as they fear it is, I had not imagined how hot, extreme hot meant here. Taking a bus ride to Janakpur was one of my worst encounters with heat. The bus was full of sweaty and hence smelly people. Though the bus said express service, it stopped at every point it could find passengers, stuffing humans as if they were boxes of non living things. Even worse, the guy sitting beside me was dead asleep occupying his own and half of my seat as well making a sweaty contact with my right hand. After a while, I had to wake him up to ask him to keep to his own seat. Turned out, he was a nice guy, gave me some cold water to drink during the steaming journey.

The twelve hour journey from Kathmandu to Janakpur put me to a day rest the next day. Then I started inquiring about other Mithila painting institutes in hope of finding some cheap trainers. As no one would tell me anything on the phone, I took an appointment for the next day. After taking a long walk of fifteen minutes in the scorching sun it turns out, the institute owner could not make it as he had a meeting. So I had to walk back again fruitless. I made more calls later taking appointment with two more institutes the next day. After calling them again several times the next day, they were finally available during the day. My father and I left home after lunch in the heat again and visited one of them, took some pictures and headed for another. Luckily I found a relative’s house in the middle to skip the sun for a while and drink a glass of cold refrigerated water. After a fifteen minute rest, I headed back to the institute. Apparently, the owner had not found anyone to talk to in a long time or so I thought. Starting from Mithila Painting, he talked to us about his personal life, his thirteen year old son, today’s education system where students don’t have respect for teachers, etc. I am usually a good listener but he took away all my patience. After a four hour long talk, we finally left fruitless.

Later that evening, I started sneezing. Overnight, I became so sick that next day I could hardly breathe. Turns out, I no longer am accustomed to my own hometown. I am not used to the crowded public bus, the dusty air, the scorching sun, the spicy food, and so on. I have been sneezing every minute since yesterday, not to mention the irritation of cough in my throat and my nose. I am hoping for a quick recovery and getting back to work soon.