Random hits on the keyboard

The month of Sharwan  is a perfect month to experiment with what happens when I don't eat meat for a month.  To be clear, it is less for a religious reason. Nevertheless, I made up a story near to a religious connotation that my wife is wearing green churaa , so I gave up meat.  I was an odd man at a social function. Last Saturday, I attended two social functions, and I was a black sheep in the group when it came to food. Seeing me not eat meat surprised my friends and family. I repeated my story, it was in honour of my wife's green bangles. They laughed and I was bombarded with food suggestions. I am strongly advised to maintain my protein intake. I was told that I would be protein deficit. I must admit that I was overly touched by the care I received, and at the same time, amazed by the knowledge of a balanced diet.  My friends were probably right. I try to maintain my running, about 35 km per week and without meat, I feel that my recovery is slow, and my legs are ...

The past two weeks have been filled with joy, laughter, and a sense of pride. We had a Family celebration where we got together to offer 'sa:ga' to my son. It is a Newar way to honour achievements. My son had completed his Secondary Education Examination (SEE), formerly known as the School Leaving Certificate (SLC). And my family visited us to congratulate and give blessings.  For generations, this exam has held a near-mythical status in Nepal, often referred to as the “iron gate.” I always hated it when someone said SLC as an iron gate. It was an overrated and hyperbolised, either to scare or to overpraise the success. Now it has been renamed as SEE, the grading system has been changed, but the whole system remains the same. Behind all the shortfalls of bureaucracy and the education system, the cultural symbolic importance of SLC (SEE) remains strong; the achievement to be celebrated, no matter how small. It makes perfect sense.   In the past, passing the SLC wasn’t just...

There’s something unexpectedly magical about running in Yangon. It’s not just a physical activity, I feel and see a lot. A bit of hidden corners and allies, and daily life. For me, Yangon is, quite simply, runnable. Sure, now and then, a heavy vehicle exhausts, but for the most part, the air feels fresh. The abundance of green is appealing. Parks, lakes, and open spaces call out to me in the early mornings. I’ve grown strangely fond of the humidity here. The sweat keeps me cold, and it forces me to run a little harder and further. The only caution is that it is not always possible to be on the footpaths. Slippery algae can turn a casual run into a skating attempt. And it is normal to walk/run on the tarmac road, ignoring the speeding car.  But honestly, sleeping in late feels far more dangerous to me than algae or a car. Running through Yangon is lively. I pass crowded marketplaces just waking up, keeping myself away from stray dogs, and observing vegetable markets and tea shops, v...

The beauty of this city continues to fascinate me. Every day feels like a quiet discovery. It has been a week since I arrived, and I’ve been exploring mostly on foot. It often rains—sometimes heavily—but the streets don’t show it. There are no muddy roads or puddles to wade through. The city seems to know how to handle the rain with grace. Food has been one of the highlights of my time here. Every afternoon, my colleague takes me to a different restaurant, often quite extravagant. The meals are rich in flavour—soups, spices, textures. Myanmar food feels like a beautiful mix of South and East Asia. I sense Indian influences, and then there’s a clear Chinese and Thai touch too. But everyone here insists that Burmese food has its own unique soul. I agree. And it’s so affordable! A full meal usually costs just 10,000 to 12,000 Kyat—about 2 to 3 US dollars. Sometimes we treat ourselves to a fancier spot, but even then, it’s reasonable. Good food and warm company make every meal memorable. T...