Losing is Never Pleasant

Today I went to the Institute only to find that two of my trainees were missing. One of them names Sushma Mishra has been married for 6 years with a son and a daughter. Her husband works in a factory in India but she does not know what kind of factory it is. He visits her once a year during the time of Dasain, which is the national festival of Nepal. Even when he is in the village, he hardly spends time with his wife. If Sushma demands his presence at home then she gets beaten up and abused. I tried my best to convince her to come to the painting institute but I failed. I really hoped that this Mithila Art training would strengthen her economically and socially. But she says that she does not have time for the institute since she needs to take care of the house and the children by herself as her in laws are dead.
Another woman named Rajdevi Yadav has a family of nine. Her husband works in Malaysia in a very low-paid job. She left because her husband that it was a disgrace to the family when women stepped out of the house in search of economic gain while their male partners were alive and healthy. He said that he would instead work harder and earn enough for the whole family so that she would not need to even think of getting a job. It is very frustrating that I cannot convince someone as far as in Malaysia. Even though I am usually not afraid to put my opinion in front of my own family members, it is different when it comes to other families, especially when they are husband and wives. The fact that I have been an outsider in my own village since I left at an age of nine for education puts me to a greater disadvantage. Again, it is not accepted in Mithila culture to speak against our elders. And her husband is way older than me.
This is the first heartbreaking experience at my institute. As sad as I am to lose these two precious women, I notice that even other trainees are sad to miss their mates. It is amazing to see how a short period of time spent together with someone brings us so close to them and creates a whole new chapter in our lives.
Rest of my trainees are enjoying the Mithila Painting classes that keep them away from wondering from door to door in this heat, afternoon nap and getting involved in meaningless fights.

The Magical Motorbike

This morning a kid came running into my house in Halkhori. He was excited and overwhelmed with joy as he had seen a magical bike outside. He explained how the magical motorbike started producing weird sounds as soon as someone touched it and the engine could start just by touching a small red dot on a rectangular object that the owner had in his hands. His mother, whom I call chachi (meaning aunt), said even she witnessed how the engine started roaring when other people than the owner tried to touch the bike. She further added, “it seemed as if the bike knew its owner and would cry the hell out if anyone else than the owner tried to take it away by force.” I agreed with them only giving them a small fact that the bike was shouting not only when touched by strangers but also due to an alarm system that triggered the sound. As for the remote control system, I could not find enough words to explain them why the bike engine started even from a distance just by the touch of a button on it in the owner’s hand. I let them enjoy their joyous moment of having seen the magical bike. It is in fact fascinating how small things like that can bring joy to people’s lives in my village.