Best 46 of Nepal quotes - MyQuotes
A small, light object landed on my head. I looked around. Another small something hit me. I looked up. After a third thing hit me, I untangled a couple of deer droppings from my hair. It was spotted deer poop. I must be one of the only kids on the planet to recognise the sultana-like pellets of hares and deer and the boulders left by elephant and rhino. I heard a cackle behind me and turned to receive a handful of deer pellets full in the face.
If walking into the responsibility of caring for eighteen children was difficult, walking out on that responsibility was almost impossible. The children had become a constant presence, little spinning tops that splattered joy onto everyone they bumped into.
Shreeom Surye Shiva
Happiness is discerned as a trait than a transient emotional state complexity and ambiguity love in understanding the concept of happiness have resulted in differing perspectives between Western and Eastern thinkers. The Westerners’ thought sought to understand man’s drive for happiness by analyzing the external factors, while the orientalists, especially estern like Neplease thinkers, gave prominence to the inner being (or ontological stance) when understanding happiness. Researchers into human inspirations following the thread of desire to its source, found that man’s deepest inspirations is essentially to avoid suffering, and to attain happiness. Every sensory desire to avoid pain, and to experience pleasure; and beneath every deeper, heart’s desire is the longing to escape sorrow, and to attain permanent happiness or joy. Happiness of breathing whatsoever we accomplish, where abouts we zest, we create happiness with us. Basically, the key to absolute happiness is to do your perfection in the performance in which God has placed you. Then you can be a sovereign within. All the divine perceptions like love, compassion, gratitude, boldness, give up the negativity meanwhile modesty would be worthless without happiness. Happiness means excitement, happiness or permanent happiness, an expression of the ultimate bliss. Happiness is also the form of consciousness; God or mother is absolutely supreme existence; substance, God is ever new joy, God is every new happiness, divinity or love or mother is unlimited happiness and this happiness is omnipresent. Practice your unity with this happiness. It resides within you; and it encompasses infinity light. Endless conscious bliss, eternal and boundless, Infinite fortune. When your energy has broadened and realize its presence everywhere, then you unite with Spirit. If the whole world were given to you, you would grow tired of it that is why contentment is the highest gain in life so no power or miracles can compare with the true happiness which is divinity, illumination or God. This enduring happiness is what all is looking for. When you rest on ones behind specially in the yoga or silence of Egyes,deep meditation, happiness globule of conciousness up from within.
What do you know of love? You've been watching too many Hindi movies. Love is something you grow into over the years. Love is like a plant. It needs time and effort to raise it. You need to let the roots grow deep and strong before the stem is thick enough to support the leaves and branches. Only when the plant is full grown do you get the flowers and fruit of love. Your love is just a seedling. Ignore it and it will die away. You're mistaking lust for love.
Wherever there was a scrap of soil amongst the ravaged crags, emaciated trees struggled to cling on: a poignant metaphor for the way so many Nepalis eke out an existence, defiantly surviving on less than nothing.
She told me Pokhara is so beautiful that you will experience a myriad of unforgettable moments. You will never be able to get enough of Pokhara.
The stupa is a white dome with a conical stone tower emerging from its center. There are two eyes painted on the tower, the all seeing eyes of Buddha. They're purple, and look a little sinister, like an Old Testament Buddha.
I like the way Nepalis point by pouting their lips; they reckon pointing with a finger is rude.
It is hard to write it in words that I can read, that re-establishes the fact that has been haunting me for the past one year.
Three mongooses, playing chase, burst out of the undergrowth and came galumphing across the track. The leader stopped and the other two bounced on him. There was a crazy bundle of squealing fur, ears, noses and tails. The mongooses broke apart. All three stood up on hind legs to look at us.
I am no enemy of Nepal being a fully literate society. It is a good thing for society and the nation as a whole.
If Nepal is to become a new Nepal, she must first become free from ethnic segregation.
the Lord Ratnasambhava keeps all his treasure inside mongooses. When the god needs his gems and jewels, he squeezes one mongoose and makes it vomit them up!
What do they teach your little girl in school? To be truthful and ambitious. Show me one man who is happy without breaking a few rules, without feeding the misery of a few others. If you can flaunt your success, your immoral acts become inconsequential.
Deep down, we are more scared of love than violence, we are more against romance than rapes.
A smile costs less than electricity, but gives more light than it!
The Valley was settled, civilised and debauched - a depthless lake levelling out to a cluster of paddy-fringed temple cities that eventually merged into a sprawling dust bowl of a metropolis. Today the Bagmati [river] has shrunk to a snail's trail of gooey sewage. Modern-day Kathmandu festers around it, three million souls crouched across 900 square kilometres, hoarding the fat of the land, awaiting the day of reckoning.
All of a sudden there was a scampering sound. A small furry hand grabbed my food. The hand had fingernails just like mine, and they were just as dirty. The monkey-thief was fast. He didn’t even look back as he shot back up the tree to enjoy my lunch. Another rhesus monkey reached into my day-sack, and cantered away awkwardly with a bigger prize.
The mountains were so wild and so stark and so very beautiful that I wanted to cry. I breathed in another wonderful moment to keep safe in my heart.
And this is a Buddhist country?” said Matt, “This is a country of lovingkindness and compassion? Hah. I think the Americans would call this ‘tough love.’ ” “That is the paradox of Buddhism,” said Ranjit, “As a young doctor I would see these violent things and wonder why they happened, knowing that it was not something that Buddhists should do. Then I realized we are not born Buddhist. All the focus on channeling anger and dealing with hardship did not emanate from these people…. It was a lesson to these people. We are a land of Buddhists because we need to hear the lessons of Buddha, not because we follow Buddha.” -spoken by Ranjit, the surgeon, after an episode of violence....
But whenever tragedy strikes, one is left either to die or with a plethora of ifs and buts to ponder over.
We borrowed their syllabus, they borrowed our graduates.
Close your eyes, Matt, and focus on third eye, the second chakra of your being. Open third eye and you will feel energy of other river as it flows. And energy of Goddess.” He closed his eyes. He could sense the energy of the woman next to him and the power of desire. He felt warmth and a sense of belonging here. But that was all.
a Nepali outlook, pace and philosophy had prevented us being swamped by our problems. In Nepal it was easier to take life day by day.
I ended up in the back seat of a chicken truck’s cab heading through beautiful scenery and disastrous roads to my hotel. About an hour later, we stopped to sell a few hundred of the chickens to a butcher shop.
She told me Pokhara is so beautiful that you will experience a myriad unforgettable moments. You will never be able to get enough of Pokhara.
she was a different person when she sang. Her singing was a deep, yearning subconscious desire to go back to a time when the Nepali identity wasn't sullied by external forces.
Beliefs divide us; values unite us." Godless - Living a Valuable Life beyond Beliefs.
Blood-coloured bottlebrush trees and scarlet hibiscus looked too bright for this devastated world.
Tourists who come to Nepal look at terraced fields and see their beauty but remain blind to the hard labour they extract from tillers.
You can take a my body out of Nepal but you can never take my soul and Heart from a Nepal .
Boston is a great center of learning. That surgeon was a tantric Buddha,” said Ram in admiration, “The smell of cautery is the finest incense. It sharpens the mind.
When we reached the prayer flags and a pile of rocks that marked the highest point on the pass, the view was brilliant. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. To the south we could see rolling foothills: the gentle ups and downs that we’d walked through. Some of the hillsides were red or purple with rhododendron blossoms. To the west and east there was a muddle of ridges and spurs. To the north, there were several mighty snow-capped himals. The real Himalayan giants were mostly east of where we stood. We were a very long way from anywhere. We were a very long way from help.
Our lives are a catalogue of random occurrences that hew us into who we are. We drift from circumstance to circumstance, pointing to the attributes that result from our adaptations and say: This is who I am.
Sunlight streamed through grumbling storm clouds that played like tiger kittens around the mountain ridges.
People who have made comparative studies of many different societies, know that when status is ascribed, rather than achieved, individual efforts towards excellence are not directed through any form of innovation; rather, the enhancement of status occurs only through the realisation of a previously well defined role position. It is only with social change, or when some form of continual dynamic disequilibium occurs in a society, that we begin to observe the development of achievement motivation in its modern form.
… everything was fresh, green and particularly beautiful. Afternoon light, filtering between remnants of monsoon clouds, picked out gullies and spot-lit patches of forest and scrub on the convoluted ridges of the rim of the Kathmandu Valley. Or, after a rainstorm, wisps of clouds clung to the trees as if scared to let go. Behind, himals peeked out shyly between the clouds.
But that’s the paradox of expectations; they are infamous for generally never being fulfilled
Meandering cows, tenacious bicyclers, belching taxis, rickshaws, fearless pedestrians and the occasional mobile ‘cigarette and sweets’ stand all fought our taxi for room on the narrow two-lane road turned local byway.
Morning mists skulked over the river.
We found a smooth inviting boulder under a vast banyan tree, and sat in companionable silence. There unexpectedly, on that rock, I saw the secret of contentment. True happiness is only ever possible if you have been unhappy. And there, at that moment, I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so peaceful. It wouldn’t have been possible for me to take in any more happiness. Moti turned to me and smiled as if she knew. I realised then that this moment and this wonderful feeling would sustain me for a long, long time.
I reckon that blaming people fixes nothing. You're the only person who is going to sort you out. No-one else really can - or really cares, enough. That's what Nepalis know - better than anyone. That's our Western disease. Don't take responsibility. Take on a lawyer!
Exactly. I think the original tantric Buddhists took notice of was some very wise old people who never studied in their youth, but took part in a range of risk-taking adventures when they were younger, and finally became wise when they reflected upon their lives in old age. There is only one problem.” “Which is?” “Risk-taking is a way to die young. It is dangerous and you may forfeit the opportunity to grow old. An early death is not a sure path to wisdom in old age,” Ranjit said, running his finger around the inside of the pipe bowl, “and if you survive without reflecting, then you simply become an old degenerate.
He wasn't a great man, but he had a great life.
Seeing the name Hillary in a headline last week—a headline about a life that had involved real achievement—I felt a mouse stirring in the attic of my memory. Eventually, I was able to recall how the two Hillarys had once been mentionable in the same breath. On a first-lady goodwill tour of Asia in April 1995—the kind of banal trip that she now claims as part of her foreign-policy 'experience'—Mrs. Clinton had been in Nepal and been briefly introduced to the late Sir Edmund Hillary, conqueror of Mount Everest. Ever ready to milk the moment, she announced that her mother had actually named her for this famous and intrepid explorer. The claim 'worked' well enough to be repeated at other stops and even showed up in Bill Clinton's memoirs almost a decade later, as one more instance of the gutsy tradition that undergirds the junior senator from New York. Sen. Clinton was born in 1947, and Sir Edmund Hillary and his partner Tenzing Norgay did not ascend Mount Everest until 1953, so the story was self-evidently untrue and eventually yielded to fact-checking. Indeed, a spokeswoman for Sen. Clinton named Jennifer Hanley phrased it like this in a statement in October 2006, conceding that the tale was untrue but nonetheless charming: 'It was a sweet family story her mother shared to inspire greatness in her daughter, to great results I might add.' Perfect. It worked, in other words, having been coined long after Sir Edmund became a bankable celebrity, but now its usefulness is exhausted and its untruth can safely be blamed on Mummy.
Andrew James Pritchard
Monsoon Love is a love story with a few comic twists. The idea for this story came to me when I went into the local town of Pokhara with a friend to buy his son a birthday present. We had just arrived at the shops when a heavy down pour began, and as we had arrived on his motorbike and didn’t have raincoats or umbrellas so we had to wait for the rain to stop. We were standing under a awning watching the street while we waited, and I noticed this very beautiful young woman walk past me dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with the cuffs rolled half up her legs, but the way she held her umbrella made it impossible to see her face, though with the nice body she had her face must have been just as lovely. Then I though, imagine some guy stuck working in an office, and seeing a view like that every day of the same woman, and falling in love with her despite not seeing her face.