Monthly Archives: December 2005

Podcasting and Broadcasting

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It was a day of interviews for me. Interviews for new and old media. First the podcasting. [For those who are not familiar with the term: New Oxford American Dictionary defines the word as “a digital recording of a radio broadcast or similar program, made available on the Internet for downloading to a personal audio player.”] There is a website named ClandestineRadio.com that has podcast service called “Global Crisis Watch.” GCW is hosted by Rich Lafayette in Minneapolis and co-hosted by Nick Grace in Washington, DC. Andy Sennitt, Media Analyst with Radio Netherlands Media Network also joined the conversation from his country. Nick is the Washington Managing Editor of ClandestineRadio.com. That was a nice talk with them. The interview is now available at the Radio’s web site. (This 21.1 MB audio file is 30 minutes long and also includes an update by Andy on the situation at Voice of the People in Zimbabwe.

They were on Skype and I was on my cell phone: kind of cell phone conference. We talked about Ram Bahadur Bamjam, the new “Buddha” boy, Nagarkot Massacre, Nepali politics and blogging. The conversation lasted for about 30 minutes and I tried my best to satisfy their questions. People are watching us and, as the situation worsens here, they are concerned too. [Global Crisis Watch is a weekly interview program that reaches approximately 5000 listeners each month- mainly journalists and U.S. policy analysts- and focuses on the War of Ideas and independent and pro-democracy media efforts.]

And then there was broadcasting. The traditional one. I was invited by Narayan Shrestha of Radio Sagarmatha to participate in a discussion program. He was talking with Kedar Sharma and Subir Pradhananga of Madan Puraskar Pustakalaya that translated Linux into Nepali recently. I don’t know where they were talking from, but I couldn’t go to the Radio Sagarmatha studio. I participated in the discussion via telephone. I had very few things to say regarding Nepalinux and Nepali computing. I later knew from Deepak that Narayan and the team also talked about the article that I wrote in Kantipur the other day. What I said is that Nepalinux or Nepali Windows need more exposure. Plus, the computer should be available to more and more Nepalis in cheap price.

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The Day of Banda

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I arrived at office early in the morning, at about 8:15.yesterday. Why? An office vehicle would go to drop a Kantipur employee near by home in Kadaghari, Gothataar. I desperately wanted to avoid walking for about an hour to reach office because I wasn’t feeling well. I mean I was recovering from Pilo. So, I though that was a nice idea to get a lift from office van. Had daal bhat in office canteen. That was good.

Then I started my Valley Banda coverage on UWB. I was eager to see the Banda effects. I walked up to New Baneshwor and spent hours wandering from one corner to another following the clashes and taking pictures. Once, I was caught up in the tear gas. Felt like I am going to die on the spot. The gas directly entered from my mouth and reached to the bottom of my lungs. I felt so. But then seeing people caught up inside a shop full of gas broke my heart. I tried to capture the image but my camera wasn’t that fast enough and I missed the horrific scene. Bikash Karki took the picture though that too doesn’t capture the intensity of the scene.

Today I feel that I ran too much. Thighs are feeling the stress. No problem. I think I can handle the pain easily. Well, here is an update on my Pilo: the sign of Pilo has gone from my nose. I knew it in the morning and now people in the office are also reminding me that. A few minutes ago, as I was congratulating Bikash Sangraula for his wonderful story in today’s Kathmandu Post in the canteen, Prateek Pradhan commented: “I also like you nose now. The sign of Pilo has gone.”

Nagarkot Massacre Victims

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Ah..feeling so tired. Today was a tough day. Yesterday was similar. As I was recovering from the pilo, events dragged me in full swing. To live in Nepal these days means you will experience all the fascinating developments personally. From very near. Live in real life. The Nagarkot Massacre case as a shocking surprise as I was participating in a low-profile ceremony organized to release Nepathya’s latest album Ghatana. In the album, the 25-minute-long title song, details an incident in Mainapokhari a year ago in which a bus carrying civilians was caught into a live firing between Maoists and the army. A bigger and horrific Ghatana (incident) happened in Nagarkot hours ahead of the album release.

While returning from the program, I got the details of the incident from Prateek Pradhan, the editor of the Kathmandu Post. He dropped me in the office of Kantipur and within 20 minutes I got words from Hari Bahadur Thapa, the Chief Reporter at Kantipur. “Army is taking journalists to Chhauni (Birendra Sainik) Hospital. Rush to Officers’ Club immediately.” There you go. As I was about to get out of the Kantipur Complex, I found DK Jaishy, Chief Reporter at the Post, going to Sundhara. He hired a cab and ah…both time and money saved. Many journalists were already present and I couldn’t find seat in the army bus. No problem. I was determined to be at the hospital and see the survivors. That’s what happened.

I was deeply wounded by seeing those innocents who were victims of a senseless firing. But more than that I was hurt by the behavior of journalists in front of those wounded souls. Journalists were like, what to say, careless folks who were only interested in their stories. They didn’t care about the Nagarkot folks health. They were asking questions, creating hustling and bustling and big noise. More than 35 reporters and photographers were in the room were four victims were kept. Their names were written on the files kept on the end of the bed but no one cared to see and read that. Everyone was asking: What is your name? What happened? Where were you exactly? I could see wounded folks were tired of repeating the answers because questions were repeating from one scribe to another. Trying to get information from them was like was like raping the victims.

Yes, if journalists don’t ask, public will not know. So, they have to ask. But I was afraid to ask a single question to a single Nagarkoti. I couldn’t do that.

When Pilo Attacks You

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This week has been one of the most disastrous for me. Well, I was not destroyed but my nose nearly got wiped out, literally. Oh… aliens attacked my nose. Yes, aliens in the form of a Pilo (Boil). Then what happened? An epic battle began and I bravely fought my own war against Piloism by largely lying down on my bed and watching, ah…hearing, George W Bush in self-congratulatory mood and telling the world, yet again, how his fight against terrorism was producing a vibrant democracy in Iraq. I decided to use no WMDs whatsoever against my enemy because I wanted the fight go insurgency way. I relied on my white blood cells, the traditional police against bacteria and virus.

(Pic will be reposted soon.)

Pilo Pidit Wagle (Wagle, the Pilo victim): I think this gloomy mood, captured by Shaligram Tiwari this afternoon in a teashop outside my office, reflects the sufferings I went through in the last four days because of pilo (boil). Look at that black spot on the right part of my nose. [Wagle, while posting this photo, hopes that possible girlfriend will understand him for, well, everything!]

Four days, spending inside the room, covered by blankets, listening to news coming out from radio and TV, were like four full boring years. Sachin Tendulkar hit his 35th ton and he was on Aaj Tak. How could I miss? I couldn’t see him (and that wasn’t necessary) but heard his as the master blaster hit back queries filed by Prabhu Chawla. Once I thought what will happen if I turned blind for ever? Would I be able to live as usual? No, of course not. Weird thought. Okay, then there was (on Star World) the Miss World competition in Sanya, China. That needed to be seen by the eyes. Ears weren’t useful at all. How could I miss? Pilo couldn’t stop me from seeing beautiful ladies fighting for the crown.

Body was there on the bed but mind was visiting around the world: from one corner to another as newsreader turned her pages on TV. For a few seconds, I was in Harvard University listening to Muhammad El Baradei, the IAEA chief (on BBC World) before filing a question to Condoleezza Rice. Well, I was the judge of the Miss World competition asking questions to ladies. That was a beautiful moment. I find no time to mention all the virtual places I went while lying on the bed. Oh… height of imagination. You can be anywhere in the world at any time. Mind travels fast.

At least two moments (when Pilo needed to be squeezed) were unforgettably painful as if insurgency was at its height. The side effect spread in my whole body in the form of light fever: I thought it was 102 in but Email, after inspecting the thermometer, insisted on saying that I was hot by 99 degrees only.

So, naak ma pili (boil on the nose) is in no way a thing to be proud of. “What happen to you?” people asked because they are concerned. When you reply, the concern turns into laughter, a satirical one. “Naak ma pilo?” people ask as if that was result of a crime. Yes, naak ma pilo. Quite painful. But many of my friends and well-wishers who called me in my house ended the conversation with some consolation.

Back in office, everyone inquired. What happened to Wagle? Pilo, I answered pointing to my nose, right over here. What? Naak ma pilo? Again, my pilo was “stigmatized” for a few seconds at first and adorned later with consolatory remarks. I am no alien to pilos. A few months ago, it was on my knee. Before that, it was a little below that. Before that it was near elbow. Nearly three years ago, it was on my chin.

But then no one is alien to pilos. Every one of them had a story or two to tell. Yes, about pilo. Their experiences. Oh… my God. I discovered, pilo has left no one. Almost all are victims of pilo at least once. I found hardly anyone one who had pilo on the nose. Someone had on upper lip. One had on both cheeks. He used medicine and that didn’t work and his cheek has now a dimple. The pilo phenomena is that it appears mostly on butts. Some told me their stories when pilo attacked them on their butts.

“Man, its more painful than on the nose,” he said. One friend told me a story of how one of his friends suffered a pilo on butt while travelling India a few years ago. I haven’t had that experience as yet. Some friends, smiling at me, said that pilo was a sign of good days ahead. I don’t know. I am always hopeful about the future but for now as I am recovering from the pilo it is hard to forget the pain I experienced in the recent past.

Talking About Life In An Evening

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Yesterday, I spent my evening with a lady having coffee, lemon tea, and cookies and discussing about life. Though I try to be honest in these blogs, for the time being, I can’t reveal the name of the lady for some unknown reasons. Anyway, that was a good experience. She did the speaking and I tried to listen to her as attentively as possible. That was like a teacher talking to her student. Our conversation was centered on life, its existence and its purpose. Sounded like philosophy? Let it be. She was trying to say some thing and I was interested to know more about that. Some points, though not completely new, were kind of revealing. Yes. I think I should read more about that. After all, in this world of materialism, you need to learn something about spiritualism. We didn’t talk about our personal things. So that wasn’t a personal meeting but that wasn’t a public meeting for sure.

While returning from her residence, I encountered difficulties faced by the general public because of the Raja, maharajas. Some folks from the royal palace, I don’t exactly know who, were to attend a marriage party in Gyaneshwor. All the roads were cleared for them as if the road solely belonged to them, not to we the people. My cab was diverted to the opposite direction and I had to pay extra Rs. 70 for that. I felt so bad. Why the hell they capture the whole road for their travel? You have so much money that is “provided” by the state, why don’t you just fly a chopper? That way people can’t pelt stone on the convoys. They don’t have to suffer traffic jam and spend extra money.