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​94-year-old Man Builds A Backyard Pool For Neighborhood Kids After His Wife’s Death.

10:14:00 PM

Living 94 years, that too in the 21st century, is something which has lately become very rare. The ones who achieve this feat deserve a “hats off” for being healthy enough to have done so. However, 94 years is a lot to live and people have a unique bad characteristic of becoming lonely very soon. Imagine if a 94-year-old man who spent majority of his life with his wife, loses her all of a sudden. Anybody would be lonely in such a situation and for a 94-year-old man, it must be too much to handle. Apart from imaginations though, such a thing just happened in the real life. In April 2016, this 94-year-old man lost his wife “Evy Davison” who lost in the battle against cancer. He just couldn’t bear the silence which widespread in the whole house. In other words, it was a difficult situation for him to be in. Intelligently, he figured out that feeling depressed about the inevitable wasn’t going to help him and he surely needs to do something to eradicate silence from his house. What he did then is something unthinkable. The retired judge decided to make a backyard pool for the neighborhood kids to play in. It just took a small amount of time for him to execute the plan and it was ready.


The backyard pool which Keith Davison made for the neighborhood kids to play in, measures 16ft by 32ft. He loves children and claims that they remind him of his childhood and makes him feel happy. The silence in the house which catalysed the loneliness in him was eradicated completely by the neighborhood kids who love to visit his backyard pool. He knew that this plan will workout as there were many kids near his house but never visited him. After he unveiled the brilliantly constructed backyard pool, all the neighborhood kids couldn’t wait to have their bodies submerged in the water.


94-year-old man “Keith Davison” has three adult children but no grandchildren. He already missed seeing kids playing and even more after the death of his wife, Evy Davison. The backyard pool was a master plan which kind of made him adopt all of the neighborhood kids. The backyard pool never used to remain free due to its immense popularity. However, whenever it’s free and empty, Keith Davison also enjoys a quiet swim.


After constructing the backyard pool, his house in Morris, Minnesota was never silent again and he never felt lonely. This idea turned out to be beneficial for both the 94-year-old man and the neighborhood kids.


The death of Keith Davison’s wife made him feel lonely at the age of 96. He couldn’t bear the silence which manifested loneliness in his heart.


94-year-old man builds backyard pool for neighborhood kids


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The retired judge hence decided to construct a swimming pool in his back yard for the neighborhood kids.


94-year-old man builds backyard pool for neighborhood kids


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The 94-year-old man is never lonely again, after creating the backyard pool.


94-year-old man builds backyard pool for neighborhood kids


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The pool measures 16ft by 32ft.


94-year-old man builds backyard pool for neighborhood kids


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There are more than enough space to fit plenty of neighborhood kids.


94-year-old man builds backyard pool for neighborhood kids


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The post ​94-year-old Man Builds A Backyard Pool For Neighborhood Kids After His Wife’s Death. appeared first on .


Source: News
​94-year-old Man Builds A Backyard Pool For Neighborhood Kids After His Wife’s Death. ​94-year-old Man Builds A Backyard Pool For Neighborhood Kids After His Wife’s Death. Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 10:14:00 PM Rating: 5

Scottish feast at Sunrise

7:17:00 AM


Hotel Yak & Yeti announces an evening with a Scottish feast menu amongst other dishes at the Sunrise Restaurant to celebrates 258thbirth anniversary of Robert Burns, the national poet of Scotland.
 The evening will be complimented by the dulcet tone of Scottish bagpipe and the guests will get to enjoy a complimentary drum (a shot) of whisky.  Even after 200 years since his death, Burns still remains one of the most celebrated figures in Scottish history and culture.

 The event will take place on January 25, 6:30 pm onwards.
Scottish feast at Sunrise Scottish feast at Sunrise Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 7:17:00 AM Rating: 5

Ode to my uncle

7:07:00 AM



After a small hike, I reached the wall from where I could look down into the still water of Kensico Reservoir, New York. The water was gleaming as it reflected the sun; however it was cut by an alternating streak of darkness that surfaced from the deep. As I stood there all alone, taking in the immense beauty of nature, I saw life and death in that pattern.

How unfairly we think of death, treating it as a snatcher, intruder and, something that shouldn’t be mentioned. If it were not for its horrifying shadow we would not see the light of life. Deep in my heart death still was a foreign language that I had no business dealing with, not yet.

But a few days back, one telephone call jarred all the philosophy of death out of me.  Death had buckled us down to our knees as it plucked a young flower from our garden. I stood wondering at the justice of God, haunted every minute by the image of my smiling uncle who now wouldn’t be there for us.  My uncle was no more. 

Bhagwad Geeta tells us that the soul is eternal. Our bodies in ultimate truth are just garments that we take off when we die. It is beautiful to know that we belong to the divine source of energy which has created this universe, that we have an opportunity to stay in this world to give love, achieve respect and become a better person before we meet the divine again. Divine is death. But I am not prepared for the divine until I have given all that I am here to give. Nor I believe was my uncle that day when he went out for his walk early in the morning. There must have been a miscalculation for it was not his turn yet. 

I cannot shake his image that haunts me much of my waking hours. With him he took away our childhood. He met death doing what he loved best. He must be onto another walk because he cannot just cease to be. So it is not farewell, it is just that you are now a walk greater than the walks you took.
Ode to my uncle Ode to my uncle Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 7:07:00 AM Rating: 5

I am a feminist, are you?

7:06:00 AM


‘Feminist’ - a word I have heard many a times during the course of my lifetime. Few years ago, when this word came up during discussion among friends, we ignored it, as if describing yourself as a feminist was a crime. And now, I embrace it. But people still freak out when I use this word. Our lifestyle has evolved. But our perception and our thoughts are still the same. The word ‘feminist’ is partially understood, wrongly perceived and blindly criticized. 

‘Feminism’ means advocating for women’s right in social, political and economical ground. Yes, I am a feminist. I choose equality over discrimination. I choose respect over dominance and emancipation over tyranny. Women have long been victim of suppression and domination in different aspects of development. They are to be given opportunities at different levels for their all round development. Give me an opportunity because I am educated, not because I am a woman. If we are to uplift the underprivileged female population, we need to provide them education and awareness, quota system is not the only solution.

We have a female president in the country. Our chief justice and speaker of the house are also female. We have female entrepreneur who have broken the stigma of business world.

It feels ecstatic to have ladies at the top but can we take this as a milestone in women empowerment? It is sad that a woman’s existence is only validated with the existence of her husband and her children’s with the presence of their father.

Male patriarchy in the society is deep rooted. Women have been fighting relentlessly for their rights. A daughter should be taught to fight for her rights, finance herself and marry only when she wants to, not because she is in her twenties.

As a man, your respect for women should not be defined by the length of her dress. As a woman, I prefer to pay my own bills when I go out on a date. I do not shy away when I have to express my opinions and I do not fear to call out the guy who makes me a subject of eve teasing. Salary should be determined by the skills not by the sexes.

I am a woman and that does not always imply I am weak. I don’t carry begging bowl of ‘I am woman so give me this right’ everywhere. Gone are the trends of ‘Ladies First’. I can stay in the queue and wait for my turn. Yes, I am a woman and I am strong. I can write my own destiny and it will never need affirmation from any man. I respect men who have a role to play in my life but I can conquer my own Everest. I voice for equality if I am not treated equal. I am a warrior in my shining armor and I can take the lead in my fight. I do not demand sympathy and next time when someone calls me a feminist, I shall not be stupefied with the remark. Yes, I am a feminist. Are you one?
I am a feminist, are you? I am a feminist, are you? Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 7:06:00 AM Rating: 5

The Man She Needs

7:05:00 AM



“Because life is all about compromise, you never get what you want, you are already 24 and have to do it,” my mother said. “He is rich, handsome, educated and most importantly a PR holder in Australia,” she added. Meanwhile, my father asked my sister to take some time.

My sister, these days, is flooded with marriage proposals, and tired of saying no. May be she is tired of rejecting but my family would never get tired of showing her next best alternative.

A girl in her mid-twenties is parent’s obligation. The stories in my society are similar to my sister’s story. Some dream of a rich husband with cars in their late teen where some dream of marrying their present boyfriends. And some again make plans to marry a PR holder abroad. These girls go through the similar struggle but the story might be different for a girl who loves her independence and ideology.

After two days, my sister came up with an idea of rejecting this alternative too. Everyone is allowed to make choices in our family but with valid justification, so for my sister saying no wasn’t the problem rather the real problem was her later justification. 

She was hungry for her own identity. She wasn’t expecting a diamond ring from her husband but wanted to earn on her own. I heard a different story that night, the story that unfolds climax and was generally non-occurring. She dreams of a man: tall in self-esteem and high in life; a self-made man who respects others and treats everyone fairly.

She kept on talking about her choice and compelled me to go through my expectations that time. May be there is nothing to do with social hierarchy while making life choices.

Rich, classy and big party throwers are not the heroes of my story anymore. He who is rich in virtue, classy in character and smart in thoughts can take away my attention than typical eye luring characters.
The Man She Needs The Man She Needs Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 7:05:00 AM Rating: 5

Be what you want to be; willing to pay the price?

7:02:00 AM


When I remember my childhood, I argue with my friends and colleagues that my early ages were as playful and as imaginary as those girls in ‘Little Women,’ except that I am a male. We used to roam wild and free, and always sticking around the pack: those were the carefree days- totally unaware and ignorant of even a little practicality of households, and of life. Our hobbies had no limits. When I look back at those years, it summons inside me a kind of great dissatisfaction that if I was within reach of each facet of that child, I would have much material even to write an infamous autobiography. 

As a matter of fact, I strived again to start over my career as a movie script writer and even director but it never got off my mind that my father had spent a fortune so that I could be a good teacher or a five star hotel manager, not a script writer. My sister had much belief in astrology, and was much concerned about my career crisis. She once convinced me to consult an astrologer. The astrologer, after having looked my birth chart, added to my frustration, that I will not be able to do well in theaters. Next day, in school, I did much survey on my students of what they really wanted to be in future. Each of them prepared a page long essay as an assignment on their ambition and dream jobs. Surprisingly, one of the students’ essays drew much of my attention, as he had written that he was willing to pay any price in order to fulfill his dreams. 

As a child, I had evidently developed a clear ambition, and unquestionably I did well, too.

The student’s essay had stirred all the questions that were left unanswered. After much contemplation, I triggered rounds of questions: what if I had put the effort of every living moment into reaching my goal? My family had paid for my studies since I was in playgroup, so they wanted me to be what they wanted me to be and I wouldn’t want to shatter their dreams and of course, the astrologer had his own way of advising people.   

My parents had no idea of the puzzle that I was trying to solve since I joined high school.

They had a choice in me, and always wanted me to be in a government job or join a reputed school, simply because I wouldn’t be unemployed. But high hopes and getting a permanent contract letter at a company are not the ambition as I define them.  

What made me think was the minimal effort I was spending on script writing which made me realize only dreaming is not enough. What counts is the trick to master the ambition we have built. We need to be persistent and consistently follow our dreams and not give up. We can achieve whatever we want, as long as we are willing to pay the price. 
Be what you want to be; willing to pay the price? Be what you want to be; willing to pay the price? Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 7:02:00 AM Rating: 5

Famous rapper Yama Buddha no more

6:04:00 PM

In an apparent suicide, famous Nepali rapper Anil Adhikari, widely known as Yama Buddha, has been found dead here on Saturday morning.

Adhikari’s brother-in-law Resh Marhatta confirmed the death talking to  BBC Nepali Service said that the rapper is no more.
Quoting the family sources, journalist Bhagirath Yogi of BBC reported that the singer committed suicide in his residence in northern London.
According to family sources, the singer was found dead in his bathroom at around 3 am. Adhikari, 29, had been living in London with his wife.

The dead body has been kept at Northwick Park Hospital, Harrow. 

Source added that police have told the family members to contact them only on Monday. It is learnt that the postmortem will be conducted on Wednesday. Marhatta added that the cause for the death will be known only after the postmortem is conducted.
Famous rapper Yama Buddha no more Famous rapper Yama Buddha no more Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 6:04:00 PM Rating: 5

I live my dreams daily!

6:49:00 PM


I am not talking about the dreams you see while you are asleep. Let’s talk about the ones don’t let you sleep at all. 

As a child, you have countless dreams. You look at characters from movies and you dream of becoming a TV star someday, you look at your dad going to work every day with purpose and you tell everyone you want to become a businessman and sometimes you see an ice cream vendor in the street and, you want to be one for the unlimited supply of ice cream. As adults, though, we start being reasonable or so I thought. For instance, as a kid I always dreamt I would find stacks of thousand rupee notes on the street and for someone reason I had a specific count, 34. Interestingly, I still dream of finding 3.4 lakhs on a huge bag below the Bagmati Bridge at 11:30 pm on my way home from a hard day’s work. 

As time passed, I realized that I would never be able to find the money. From the guy who wanted to be an ice-cream man to a microbiologist. It turns out that my dreams started to align more in line with my life goals only later. I dreamt of a decent job, I dreamt of being with the girl I love, and I dreamt of making my family proud someday. When reality becomes better than your dreams, you feel truly alive. I had countless dreams as a kid and still have countless of them now. The important ones have become a reality and nothing can take away that feeling of exultant gladness of feeling truly alive. 

However, a big bag of hard cash won’t be such a bad thing to find in the street every now and then!
I live my dreams daily! I live my dreams daily! Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 6:49:00 PM Rating: 5

We all need love gurus!

6:48:00 PM


I am 19 and single. I simply wanted give you a hint of my inexperience in romantic relationships. Anyway, I deserve a round of applause. Only few can stay single till 19 these days. Love is not my cup of tea. I am not the type who indulges in something so trifle as relationship. 

But we all have come across people who consider themselves the expert on love. They think they know everything about love, romance, dating, heartbreak, break-up, patch-up and more. They are love guru. Does this remind you of someone? Don’t say “No!” Every class has a love guru. 

“You are going on your first date? Take my 10 tips to slay it on the first date.”
“Your girlfriend is mad at you? Follow these 3 simple steps. It worked for me last time.”

These love gurus talk as if they created the characters Romeo and Juliet. Do you want to know what I thought about these love gurus? I thought they were stupid. 

But this was before I met a love guru in my high school. Relationships started making sense to me after I got along with her. I soon realized the task of a love guru was not as stupid as I thought. The task of my high school love guru was tough. Not anyone can become a love guru. It requires a set of essential interpersonal communication skills to become a love guru. My high school love guru had advanced emotional intelligence. 

Firstly, she was a good listener. She was always curious to listen to the stories of people.  The benefit of being a love guru is you become privy to the secret romances of people. People trust you.

Sometimes your friend turns to love guru in utter distress and frustration. He says, “My babe says she is no longer interested in me. How can she say so? She’s my life.” Your friend starts freaking out and the love guru says, “Calm down! She probably didn’t mean it.

May be you caught her in bad mood.” Love guru tries to comfort her friend. But her friend can’t help to not freak out. At this moment love guru starts giving direct commands, “Shut up. What nonsense are you talking about? Are you stupid?” Love guru now intervenes and talks to his girlfriend and tries to convince her and work out a solution. Love guru knows a wide range of tactics to manage emotions in others. 

Finally, we all know how complex human relations can be. Today you think you and your beloved are the happiest couple on the earth but tomorrow you feel there’s something terribly wrong between you two. Human relation is a maze with its all intricacies. Love gurus are capable of understanding such complexities, which helps them to give good advices to their friends.  

I thought all these self-proclaimed love gurus belittled the greatness of love by acting as if they knew everything about it. But I was wrong, our love and relations can seem like a confusing puzzle to us and when we have a love guru, we can make sense of it. We all need love gurus. 
We all need love gurus! We all need love gurus! Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 6:48:00 PM Rating: 5

Chinese head home in world's biggest annual human migration

4:46:00 PM

Hundreds of thousands of Chinese travelers were packing airports, train and bus stations Friday as they headed home for Lunar New Year celebrations.
Officials expect that Chinese travelers will make almost 3 billion trips during the holiday travel rush that starts Friday and runs through Feb. 21. These trips include intercity flights, trains and local bus rides to villages for China's 1.4 billion people.
Each year, it represents the world's largest seasonal migration of people as families reunite for China's most important traditional holiday. Also known as Spring Festival, it falls on Jan. 28 this year.
Travelers lugging large bags were rushing into the Beijing Railway Station on Friday morning to catch trains home.
Su Wenqi, a college student in Beijing, was lining up to catch a train headed to the northeastern city of Harbin. She said she was looking forward to reuniting with family.
"My parents and relatives are back at home and you feel safe at home, so I must go back," Su said. "After a busy year, I really miss them."
Chinese head home in world's biggest annual human migration Chinese head home in world's biggest annual human migration Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 4:46:00 PM Rating: 5

Kamal Babu, as I knew him

4:39:00 PM
Kamal Mani Dixit was born on September 2, 1929 and passed away on Thursday, December 29, 2016. Both events happened in Kathmandu.
Dixit was known as Dada or Dadajee in his vast circle. I addressed him as Kamal Babu, and he liked it.
Kamal Mani Acharya Dixit was a known name in the Darjeeling of my teenage years. The circle of Indra Bahadur Rai, Ganeshlal Subba, Raj Narayan Pradhan, Okiuyama Gwain, Guman Singh Chamling, Dev Kumari Sinha and Lakkhi Devi Sundas was familiar with him.
I discovered Dixit sometime in 1969, by chance. Indra Bahadur Rai had written a piece, probably on Laxmi Prasad Devkota. Rai dwelt on the word, ‘alutama’, and discussed the abstractionist notion of it. In English, it can be understood as ‘on potatoness.’ But Dixit, in a letter, explained that the word simply meant ‘alu-tama’ – a ‘sadharan tarkari’ (common curry) in Kathmandu.
Here was an explainer! He ‘clearified’ things Nepali between native Nepal and the Nepali world outside it, the two slowly parting ways from each other from the time Muglan and Paltan began. Rai included Dixit’s letter when the former’s piece was included in a collection, published sometime later.
I had never seen Dixit, nor seen his photograph. I saw him for the first time in 1971. I had started teaching at Patan College, courtesy of Abhi Subedi who inducted me there. The Principal was Mangal Raj Joshi, the renowned Newar royal astrologer of Patan who later obtained his PhD on geography from an American university.
There was a regular meeting of the college’s board of trustees. One man looked distinguished to me. He was in casual clothes – a gray cardigan, an open greenish shirt and in tan trousers. This was the famed Kamal Mani Dixit! He appeared as someone familiar from Darjeeling – smart, neat, clean-shaven and agile in manner and forthwith in speech.
He was in his mid-forties. I learnt that he lived at Patan Dhoka, in the adjacent neighborhood of the college. Then I knew about the Madan Puraskar, the Madan Pustakalaya, the Madan Memorial School and numerous other initiatives, each one his brainchild. In the days and years to come, I knew this multifarious man to be everywhere in the Kathmandu Valley. About this, something later.
At the Patan College meeting, this man, a high Hindu Bahun of Kathmandu, looked more like a pleasant proselytizer, like someone from my own church in Darjeeling: an amicable alderman, a communicable catechist, a messianic missionary.
The ‘missionary’ word was not mine alone. In a travelogue written in the ’70s, Kamal Babu himself mentions this watchword while travelling with a companion in the newly rechristened Bangladesh. On a boat, the Nepali visitors were asked whether they were Christian missionaries, indicating the jhola bags they had slung on their shoulders, as American evangelists typically do to this day. ‘Do you know Sheejareen Shah?’ was another question, meaning the ace female badminton champion of Nepal who had obviously left quite a few impressions on the erstwhile East Pakistanis.
One of Kamal Babu’s traits, I learnt early, was to speak his mind, without mincing words. This direct speech was illustrated in what Ishwar Ballabh, our 1950s teacher of Sanskrit at Turnbull High in Darjeeling, said to me in 1972 or thereabouts.
Ballabh Sir and I met regularly on the Hippie-heaped Freak Street, smoking ganja, drinking ‘tharra’ and talking literature and all those jazz in the psychedelic restaurants.
Then he received the Madan Puraskar of the year, for his anthology, ‘Agoka fulharu hun; Agoka fulharu hoinan.’ We congratulated him and spilled more than the usual in celebration.
‘But Peter,’ Ishwar Sir took me to one side of the noisy gathering. ‘Kamal Mani was dead against the award going to me. He plainly said, “If I had my own way, you wouldn’t’ve received it.” That’s what he said during the chiya-paan hour.’
‘But why?’ I was surprised. ‘He’s everything that Nepali literature is at the Madan Puraskar Guthi.’
‘Well, he didn’t cite any reasons. That’s the way in Kathmandu. So I said, “But I got the award, anyway! What can you do about it now? It’s too late!” But he admitted as much, that most members of the mulyankan samiti (selection/evaluation committee) voted for me. “So there!” he said. But Kamaljee demonstrated his abiding respect for the decision made by the quorum.’
Kamal Mani also broke his own literary canons for the greater good. This happened, for instance, when he published Capt. Janak Bahadur Rana’s pieces in the Madan Guthi magazine, Nepali. Rana (father of Ruby Rana, the first Miss Nepal) had written what I would like to call his Kal Mochan Ghat Journal along the Bagmati at Thapathali and Tripureshwor, leading down to the Teku Dovan. Kamal Babu acknowledged breaking his own literary magazine’s editorial guidelines, simply because Rana’s essays were exceptional: Nepali would publish them rather than seeing the honor going to the other contenders in Kathmandu!
My own interactions with Kamal Babu took place much later, when he knew more about me and my career as wordsmith in the new century.
Sometime in 2006, Kamal Babu phoned me at The Kathmandu Post (where I worked then) about Padri (Padre) Ganga Prasad Pradhan, born in Kathmandu in 1851. It transpired that some Nepali missionaries were planning a souvenir volume on the first ordained Nepali Pastor in the British Raj in Darjeeling, surpassing all the Scottish missionaries with the Presbyterian Church of Scotland. While the Padri preached, he also composed Ishai bhajans in the Nepali language, compiled Nepali grammar, wrote Nepali textbooks, translated the Holy Bible into Nepali, and equally bravely published the Gorkhay Khabar Kagat from 1901 to 1932, the year of his passing away.
But the Reverend has remained grossly underrated and unmentioned, both in Nepal and India. The Christians of Northeast India, while declaring him as their first Nepali Apostle, prefer to forego his pioneering works in the Muglan’s literacy developments and press culture. In Kathmandu, too, its Hindu BCN (Bahun, Chhetri and Newar) triumvirate is yet to recognize the gifts this Jyapu of Tham Bahil (Thamel) has left to the Nepali cosmos in general. Even the Madan Pustakalaya, Nepal’s Library of Congress, and mentored by Kamal Mani Dixit himself, had only a dozen or so issues of the newspaper in the archives. Even then, Ka. Dee. (Kama Babu’s penname) wrote an affirmative essay on the Padri and his newspaper, drawing out the best in Darjeeling from whatever copies of the paper he had at hand. His portrait is an eye opener and a provocation to one and all interested in Nepali literacy, press and publication.
The second landline call from Kamal Babu came a few years ago. When Basu Rimal ‘Yatri’ passed away, I wrote an obituary on him, and his beloved literary magazine, Bideha. I mentioned those publishing editors whose literary love children graced our newsstands: Roop Rekha of Uttam Kunwar and Bal Mukund Dev Panday, Avibyakti by Nagendra Raj Sharma, Bideha, and Nepali, among other magazines.
Nepali was Kamal Babu’s pet publication on behalf of the Madan Guthi. In the obituary, I mentioned how he pooled the meeting ‘vatta’ (honorarium) he was paid for attending the regular board meetings of some four dozen companies, organizations and corporate bodies where he was appointed director of the boards.
Kamal Babu’s call was a ‘Thank you!’ one for mentioning him in my piece. This was a Christian attitude of gratefulness, inculcated in the West and in Japan, but rare in Nepal.
The Kamal Babu poured out his many woes:
‘Peter, but I don’t any longer attend those many meetings you mentioned. Times and things have changed. In those years, it cost me Rs 2,000 to publish Nepali; then the expenses reached some 2,500 Rupees. Now the magazine needs Rs 250,000, while my poket moni has dwindled. But I called you to thank you!’
He did not need any mention. He had garnered plenty of it. But he was thankful, for all my mundane worth.
I saw Kamal Babu on occasions at Rato Bangla School where my preteen grandson Prashanna studies. The school has dedicated its auditorium as Kamal Mani Theater where he was seen teaching Lekhnath Poudyal.
‘Natiko huqumat?’ Kamal Babu asked me, seeing my Nikon. On grandson’s orders?
Yes, Hazur,’ I said, ‘my grandson wants me to photograph him in the choir or elocution and sports.’
Now my nati does not need me to be at the school’s events. He is a mid-teen now and more interested in the UN, girls, futsal, sports biking, and the like. I’m rarely seen there now.
Kamal Babu is also no more to be seen in the premises of Patan Dhoka and its many public-interest landmarks which he helped develop for sixty years. 
Kamal Babu, as I knew him Kamal Babu, as I knew him Reviewed by Chitwan Info Tech on 4:39:00 PM Rating: 5
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