Is the World Ending?

Much to my surprise, the world is not really ending. It’s just changing, morphing into something that I’d never have imagined possible some years before. No, I’ve checked: most of the stars are still up there in the sky, although it’s hard to see them with this thick blanket of clouds that is not only above my head, but it’s occasionally surrounding my feet as well; it’s either that I’m really high up in the tea-producing hills of Ilam, where life goes on unabridged by weather phenomena such as, oh let’s say rainy season; or these clouds really ignore common gravitational theories and submerge everything in a milky soup that makes everything look as though nobody sounded the fire department alarm in time and now the odourless smoke from an invisible fire gnaws at the human senses.

No, the world is not really ending. Understandably, you’d think it’s ending when all around you seems to disappear in the misty unknown and strange, singular occurrences may get you seriously considering the fate of the world.

Especially if you’d know that I tend to choose my lodgings according to the availability of a television set that will broadcast the FIFA World Cup (this fact sometimes trumping over the ease of use of a wireless internet connection!). Or that I rigorously wake up at 1.30AM to watch the football games live, and surprise even myself with getting emotionally involved and cheering for a particular team. And that I am inclined to make football the gravitational centre of all my conversations with Nepali people, who are as captivated by the subject as a cat is by a fluffy, tinkling ball.

No, the world is not really ending; but my sane, football-free mind is on holiday, hopefully returning right after the final game.