Twenty-one's Twenty-one: Excerpts from my journal
5 min readMay 6, 2023
- Here’s to a country that failed my father. A country that only served to disappoint him. A country that does not respect honesty or loyalty. A country that failed me.
- My happiest moment is a simple one. Mom’s driving. I’m in the passenger seat, making sure to play all the right songs, and best believe “Chala Jata hu, kisi ke dhun me” is a family favorite. In the back seat, Dad and Bish are bickering, and everything outside of this car seems insignificant.
- I hope you shed a tear or two for me as well. I hope I’ve helped you create memories you’ll treasure for the rest of your life. That when you hear about my death and, as you recollect old memories you’ve filtered and saved, you tell your children about a friend who taught you how to love.
- Next week, home will smell of crisp new money dad will bring from the bank. It will smell of new clothes that I would force mom to buy. It will smell of mutton, of chicken, of beer that dad & I would share. Of tika, Jamara and ghyu. It will smell of people; too many people, and immense chatter. And yet, as much as I dreaded every minute of it while at home, I sit here wishing for nothing but being back for Dashain.
- Even though it has been a while, when I came across old screenshots today, I started crying. I want to write about it, but it’s nearly impossible to put into words how it feels when a friend grabs your ass in the club. How it feels when men, older and much more intimidating than you, continue making you uncomfortable despite seeing it eminently on your face. How it feels when you know you should be doing something about it because you are strong and you fight back, but the repercussions seem much worse than shutting up about it. How you feel when you ultimately begin to doubt your own conduct. Perhaps I was too outgoing? Maybe I gave off the wrong vibe? No idea what being too outgoing or giving off the wrong vibe might look like, and I hate that I’m questioning myself for obnoxious, vile men but here we are.
- You don’t know rock bottom. It’s no heartbreak. It’s fear. The fear that you will never be enough. For yourself.
- Dada got married a year ago this week, yet, it feels as though it happened years ago. I realized I felt that way because so many things have happened in just this one year. Covid ended. I came back to college. I declared my second major. I cramped 23 credits and an internship into one semester for academic validation. I went to London. Got my heart broken. Made mistakes. Went to Nepal. Spent time with friends who healed me. Got my heart fixed. Became a senior and then decided I would punish myself all over again for academic validation.
As Veshi would always say “It’s all good for the plot” anyway ;) - The highlight of my Thanksgiving this year was me and my cousins, low-key tipsy, making Thanksgiving dinner together, screaming “Somewhere only we know” at the top of our lungs. This was one of those moments when, as it was occurring, I looked at it from a third-person perspective and wished I could stop time. One of those moments that makes me want to thank the universe for everything I have. and thus, thank you universe. For love. For family. For friends. For food. For privilege. For choice. For mistakes. For arguments. For growth. For everything.
- If, like me, you have ever believed you deserve to have good things come to you. They will. They do. Potentially in different forms, but they really do.
- The one skill I want to master: Giving it your all and expecting nothing in return and regardless of the outcome, being content with it.
- Every morning, Mamu and Baba sit on the couch to call their two daughters and I watch from a screen as Mom asks Dad to refill her coffee almost every half hour. Without saying a single word, he gets up each time and goes to the kitchen. Dad called me a few days ago and he cried, told me that he would be nowhere without my mom. That her strength, her support, and her love were the only things that were keeping him afloat. And this is what makes me believe in love.
- And just like that, the perfect two months of winter ended, and I was alone all over again.
- “You deserve everything in this world, and I’ll try my best to make sure you get it” Thank god for people like you.
- I’ve always had a singular meaning of friendship; “unconditional” love and support. This year, however, has taught me a lot about friendship. It has taught me that you cannot have the same type of friendship you have with a group of people you’ve been together with since you were 7, with everyone. It comes in levels, limits, and in time constraints. It will hurt you one day and heal you the other. It will make you want to punch a wall but it will also make you want to hold hands, give massages, and love.
- I wish there weren’t any uncertainty in this world. I wish watching other people thrive didn’t burn my chest. I wish it were easier.
- “You people come here and never leave”. I’ll tell you why it really scares me. Because it’s hurtful when you watch yourself being treated differently in airports, in school, and in friendships because you have slightly tanned skin or because you don’t speak English with perfect pronunciations.
- Some people feel like a soft warm towel right out of a 60-minute dryer while some people feel like a pimple on the curves of your lips that pierces your skin when you try to open it.
- How do I fit 4 years of my life into 2 suitcases?
- Some things (almost) graduating has taught me: Change is hard yet it’s almost always for the better. Uncertainty will rip you apart and regardless of experiencing it day after day, you will never truly get used to it. Sometimes you don’t get what you want because you are not meant for it. People who are there at your lowest deserve your best. It’s okay to constantly be on the edge if it means, down the line, you won’t be.
- Fast forward 4 years, Esho was trying on her gown for graduation. She looked at herself in the mirror, and regardless of what she saw, I saw an independent, hardworking, kind human being. Not just her, all of us have changed over the past four years, we have become better human beings; more hard-working, and better empaths. Resilience in the face of adversity really is every international student’s forte.
- To be very honest, I was dreading this birthday; my first one away from Nepal, from my best friends, from my family, and yet, the peace that came with this one was unlike any other. I am so thankful to have everything that I have. I have never felt more loved, more appreciated. Here’s to 21.
