What do others think? I used to think that love meant letting someone live without suffering. However, how can the love that grows in the heart remain valuable? That's what I found out when I was 40, so I crashed in love many times.

When I recall the history of not knowing how to love, I remember my benevolent friend Gita almost as the first incident. He Upadhyaya, I Kirat. But, not only being close in terms of neighbors, we were also friends and classmates.

Salt, bread, fire, water were close relatives. Most of my stay was at Geet's house. I couldn't go to the square, because I eat pork. Even Gita could not go to my stove, because she was eating khasi. However, we used to eat both. We were led astray by a fanatic in religion. 

Every year there was a fasting story in her house - 'If a husband is twice her age, the wife will get better protection, the husband should be regarded as God'. As a result of the association, I also tried to fast, I tried to wish for my future husband. However, there was no atmosphere of fasting in my house. If you don't eat on time, your mother will make you sick.

Sometimes we used to advise Geeta to marry the same boy when we grow up. However, she has not grown up and has been married to a master at the age of 11. I did not know. I was shocked that she got married without telling me. How did the friend who loved so much go to Poi's house without telling me? I didn't even want to remember after that. Like a sudden stoppage of a flowing river, my love knotted in my heart. I got sick.

After a few weeks I got better. Apa (Father) tried to take place in my empty mind. He started talking like a friend who always speaks in a bad way. At first it seemed strange and laughed, but later it became a good habit. I wanted to knit a small head. I carried it and started going to the grass-wood behind me. Apart from school time, I started to go with Apa to herding. He started teaching Mundum while grazing. Chula is our last point. He started teaching that while we live, we believe that there is a deity in the hearth, and even after death, we transfer our souls to the hearth.

As Apa Raithane is a songwriter and artist, I also started composing and writing songs with the help of Bahramatra. You used to purify the quantity. In one song, I wrote 'Badur' when I was trying to write 'Timi Ta Mero Sansar Kai Bahadur..'. "You are my monkey," Apa giggled, "songs were also written about monkeys." Animal lover song... He used to be surprised by saying something like this. Now that I remember, I used to write songs based on Swasthani fasting stories. I have been making songs by completely absorbing myself towards men. One day you wrote 'Dher Bahun Geet Khushya 

(younger), now write a Kirati song. 'What is a Kirati song?' With a fistful of grass in one hand and a sickle in the other, I turned around. Laughing at herself, she placed her beanie-collar beaked hat on the edge of the field and wiped her hand on the chin of the khadar, and began to strike a swinging flint to light the salbinde. Green-yellow I stood on the ground to be a little higher than a rice paddy and asked again, 'Apa! How is the Kirati song?'

A smoke and a word started coming out of Apa's lips alternately, 'In the Kirati song, all people are equal. Everyone has an equal right to live. How the three ovens are equal, the dishes are stuck and the food is cooked. In the same way, loving everyone equally is called the essence of Mundum.' 

'Then why do you say that Chhetri-Bahun is big, Sarki-Kami is small, between us?' But, just a few days ago, I had eaten the crackling of my mother's hand when I picked a seed and gave it to him in a dabuko of hashish. However, when the brothers-in-law ate from it, there was no cheek. So the matter was incomprehensible. I didn't think I could even write a song after I didn't understand.

At one point, I heard my mother say, 'Khushya khunkhata/Kanchi kata gayi?' I was next to her. I am invisible in the paddy fields like grasshoppers because of the yellow llama-lama barley stalks on the green ground of my clothes. As soon as her mother finished speaking, Marinelle laughed at me alone. We didn't laugh. And, in great curiosity, the mother said to Apa, 'Hana is going to get married to the Simma of the lower village.' What if the person who was walking to go to Janti had to go?' It's a sin to make your wife do the work. The stove is turned on.'

'Yes?' Apa and I were shocked. After a while, my mother carried my head. He moved forward with a heavy load of grass. We followed you. But, my heart was disturbed. As much as I was traumatized when my friend left alone after advising her to marry a guy twice her age, I had decided not to get married for the rest of my life. However, Timma (Grandmother) married Chula after her hair grew, which surprised me again.

Parents went to the barn to store grass, I reached Geeta's house without thinking about going home. Geeta keeps coming home. I had to stare for a long time, unable to recognize it. He chuckled. Both cheeks got goosebumps while laughing. His smile was the same, except around the teeth. There were no two keys. The hair was vermilion at night. Lies around the neck. Wearing Gunyucholi, but how 'ugly' she looked. Six months ago, Geeta, who walked away without even telling me 'I'm going', was so hurt that I became sick. But, as soon as I saw him that day, I shouted ``Gita!''

After all, there are two things that people react to, love and hate. When love runs out, hate runs away, and when hate runs out, love runs out again. Love for the song again.

Geeta said nothing. Standing with eyes closed. We used to get along so well, we could not talk even if we spoke 24 hours a day, but that day there was not a single word between us. Sometimes we get lost due to circumstances. I also went back with my eyes squeezed. It was the first sign that life was terrible.

When they reached home, mother and father had just entered the dhoivari with their hands and feet in the stream in the courtyard. The sun was very bright. Mother's face is red. She washed it again with water and she said that she was about to get married, 'Nana got married because of the stove.' I told Apa, 'I will not marry. I keep the stove on by myself. Give me the stove. He lives in the pallo targahra with a stove.'

Apa's habit of teasing. You teased me like that and said, 'How can we cook rice in two stoves after you take one stove? What else do you cook in a stove? When you go to your son-in-law's house, you will get all three stoves.'

The mother also added, 'Is it only by keeping the stove? After his death, he had to have children to worship him in the hearth. Don't let your daughter go to someone else's house. If you have a son, it will always be yours. For that, you have to go to your husband's house to have children. After leaving, Nathe Chulafula will not be found.'

This also seemed reasonable to me. However, you will not be able to stay single. Wheat and rice rice and gundruk and potato vegetables, Sanokhale belauti/tomato pickle! After swallowing a big bag of food, Apa said again, 'Others' daughters dream about what they will become after reading, but my daughter surprised me by asking for a stone.'

'You are also a headmaster. After all, I had to get married because of the stone.'

The mother said, 'Are you angry with your brothers? Who will do your homework? If you don't give money, the work will not be done, they used to say. Is that why? There are no others like your children.'

Another dilemma occurred to me. Must have children too! Doubt was added to the dilemma. Even after marrying a man who is older than her, why did Geeta wither like that? Why did Timma get married despite being the headmaster? Don't rely on other people, you need children! Dasain holiday ended in my dilemma.

I woke up one morning and found blood on my bed. Surprisingly, the only element that made blood without knowing it was lice. In my village, Mabu, which is currently number one in the province, fruits, vegetables, seasonal crops and cardamom are plentiful, but there is also an equal amount of lice. Sometimes it makes blood. I was also bitten by Khari Juka/Thulokha, blood was flowing like urine when I was finding the wound. I called my mother. As soon as he saw it, he said, 'Abui Nani, you are blooming. grow up Now avoid men. Otherwise the child may stay. Take a shower and put on another dress. I will heat the water in the foci.' 

What to avoid with people? Who should be considered as a husband? I asked my mother again, "Mother, are those people who go to school with us married or not?" My mother laughed. I doubted myself, my question didn't match. 

This blossoming work is not finished once. Having to bloom every month adds another hassle. Being sick for at least five days every month is not uncommon. Due to these five days of sick days, many work will be interrupted. There is a saying that 'menstruation should not be stopped', it will have a very bad effect on women's health. By neglecting these five days, the body becomes weak. This does not mean 'not touching menstruation as a sin', but it is very important to pay attention to rest and nutritious food.

In the Lahure environment of the Rais, no matter how much money they earn, the Lahures go back to security-guard after cooking their pension. Allegedly that 'no amount of money is enough', the Lahures go to another job after spending their pension. However, especially those who can live comfortably even after cooking pension, are not exempted. The wife is engaged in another job. Either he had to be scolded, if he wanted to get respect, he had to start another job to earn money. 

I didn't like that. A husband is also someone's son. It hurts if the daughter-in-law scolds her for not earning money. That's why I never insisted to my husband to 'earn money'. My weakness is not being able to see my sons and husband suffer. Instead, as much as I suffer, I will bear it, but it will not happen like this. My desire to celebrate the silver anniversary of marriage was incomplete. I am already abandoned. I have remained a lover even to those who did not love me. "Pragati Rai is only my guardian", said Po Hos. Am I going to love?

After all, like a pond, love cannot be made without a drain, sometimes it escapes from control and gets stuck somewhere. 

After living in Korea for a few years, some habits have become like addictions without being able to change them. After speaking, it became a habit that it must be completed. If someone doesn't say 'I'll call you back', it's very stressful. If I don't say 'I'll come' or if I don't say 'Let's do this on this date', I get very stressed.

How much of this happens in Nepal! In the midst of such tension, a friend met, who would fulfill his promise exactly. I am addicted to this habit. Become or make good friends. However, where did you get lost on Valentine's Day? Even though the mind is saying nothing, the mind is excited. The more you try to wipe clean, the more stains appear. After a few days, he said, "It's been too long since Pragatiji tea, let's meet him!". 

"Don't eat Chiasia" said. "Goodbye" came the reply. I also said 'rest in peace, rest in peace'. 

I'm going to fall in love? The love that is looking for a way out, who will love and give way out? To yourself or to someone else? If you love yourself, you will change your mind every now and then. Sometimes the mind says - make life better by eating a little, become famous by reading a lot, again the mind says - yes...let's eat well, sleep happily.