Christmas Eve 2005, New York City, USA.

The sweet smell of perfume and bright little candles light up my lonely apartment. It's snowing outside but I feel warm somewhere deep within. I am two American Christmases old and I already like it because it's the only time I get to relax at home. It's late at night and I am readying to go to bed.

Christmas is when all my American friends go back to their homes, to their families and to cherish the spirit of togetherness and unity. And I am left alone, in my very apartment, unaccompanied and unnoticed - cooking Christmas dinner to myself.  I have been in America for about two years now; living in my lavish double suite apartment in Woodside, New York but I haven't been able to abandon that nostalgia yet. I am missing home, missing my people, missing that feeling of being with your loved ones. But it's Christmas and no time to be unhappy. So I raise a little toast to myself, for being alone in a country that doesn't belong to me, for being sad and to everyone left alone tonight - Merry Christmas.

    It's fifteen minutes to Christmas Day and the doorbell rings.

    I wouldn't expect a visitor at this late hour. Who could it be? Not the mailman I suppose. Maybe Mrs Pascal next door has some Christmas cake for me. Or how about Santa Clause? I need to check so I opened the door.
    There was this fellow, in his mid twenties, very thin and pale. He looked pitifully tired but had a large grin on his face. "Hi! Merry Christmas," he greeted me.
    "Merry Christmas to you too," I wished him. But he wasn't looking at me; rather he was trying to peek into my room from above my shoulders. It was like he was searching something in there. I was concerned by his behaviour so I asked, "Excuse me, but can I help you?"
    Either he was too happy or he was born with such a merry face. This guy would not stop putting out that bright look on his face. "Ya. Sure." he said, "Could you tell Baba Veer's here."
    "Umm. Pardon, who's Baba?" I asked.
    He looked at me aghast and tried to push me aside by my shoulders. "Khai, let me have a look." he entered into my room without permission, stood there and called out loudly, "Baba. Look who's here. Baba, Merry Christmas?"

    So this was Veer, and he was looking for someone called Baba. But it was high time I informed him. "Hey man, you've just trespassed into my flat. This place belongs to me. No one as Baba lives here. Get me?" I raised my eyebrows that caused him to frown.

    "Neh!" He didn't trust my words and was still looking for someone called Baba.
     "Well. I see, you're probably looking for the person who lived here before me. I'm sorry but he is gone." I informed him bringing my smile back to my face.
    "Gone?" Veer's expression suddenly changed. "Didn't even bother to tell me! Typical for a Nepali. What's happened to these people?" He never realised the person standing in front of him too, was a Nepali.
    "I am a Nepali." I stressed that caused him to raise his eyebrows. I thought he would be sorry to what he just said, but it seemed like he was very happy.
    "Really. Wow. Man! Not seen Nepali flesh for like two months now! Great, hi my name is Veer. Veer Bahadur Thapa." He brought his hand forward for a shake.
    "Saurav Adhikari - medical intern, New York General Hospital. Emergency Department." I introduced myself and shook hands with Veer.
    "Wow. Doctor stuff. Cool." He patted on my shoulders. "Hey man, can I ask a little favour?" he asked.

    "Like?"
    "Do you have a computer?"
    "Yeah."
    "Can I use it for like two minutes?"

    What? Who is this guy and why does he want to use my computer?
    Veer tried to explain with a calming voice, "You see, it's Christmas and all those internet cafes around are shut. It's very urgent I need to talk to Phucchi. So could I please use your computer for a while? It won't take long, just two minutes. One email and that's it, I swear."
    "Well, but why would I let you do so? I hardly know you." I said.
    "Okay, my name is Veer Bahadur Thapa. I am from Karkare VDC, Ward Number 14, JhakreBheer, Okhaldhunga, Nepal. I live in Jackson Heights right now. I did my SLC from Dantakali Madhyamik Vidyalaya JhakreBheer. I was doing my ICom in Shankerdev Campus but dropped and came here. Right nowI am working as a cabbie in New York City ... you get it. Now let me use your computer." Veer said.

    That was weired but I wasn't still sure if I would let him use Internet in my computer. "Well.." I said.
    "Alright do you want me to pay you?" He proposed.
    "Pay? Can you pay me?" I was curious about this fellow.
    "Well, money is a bit of problem but hey I have a great idea! I can pick and drop you in my cab. It's right there in front of your door. Wanna have a look?" He raised the curtain of one of my windows and showed a sleek yellow cab parked outside in front of the building I lived in.
    "Alright. But there's a condition. You can't touch it. You dictate, I write." I made the rule.
    "Eah man! Alright!" he screamed in disgust.


    "Hey Phucchi,
    How're you? Still looking hot right? How's Raj? I miss you guys out here. I hate it being away in this weird place. I left the janitor's job. Guess what, now I've got a cab to drive. Oh, it's great: air conditioned and comfortable. But I still can't forget you.
    Know what? Probably I'll be home for Dashain. Yeah, already excited! There's been pretty much saving as well. We can get our home back from the mortgager now. I've bought some stuff for you and my little boy. He must have grown very much now. Put him into a school else you wouldn't want to see him driving cabs like his father, would you?
    Just kidding, I love you.
    Veer."

    "Nice email!" I commented. "By the way, is her real name Phucchi or you just made it up?"
    "Of course not! Who on earth would ever name her Phucchi. She's got a nice name - Deepika Thapa. But you see, Phucchi is more of my type. You know what I mean.."
    "Yeah I do. Married and had a kid. Good for you Veer, Deepika must be a lucky woman to have married a guy like you." I said.
    "Call her Phucchi.." Veer suggested.
    "Yeah, Phuchhi. As you like it." I said. Veer looked around from the couch he was sitting in.   
"Perhaps she does. Or maybe she's just unhappy. Living ten thousand miles away from your loved ones isn't easy boy! Sacrifices and more sacrifices. You're a lucky person. You had had good education, a rich father to finance your college and see where you've reached! Everyone doesn't play safe and easy like you did. I don't mean to offend you.."

    "Yeah.." I tried to pronounce my heart out, "it's a difficult life. Living with people you don't know in a country that doesn't belong to you ain't easy. Ta-da." I made this stupid gesture but immediately calmed  myself and asked:
    "Veer, what's the thing with your house? Did you give it out on a mortgage?"

    "Mortgage? I sold my life for it. Maybe just another bad bargain." Veer sighed. His voice deepened "I bought it for Phuchhi when we got married. It was like a little wedding gift I am still paying for. Silly me, just trying to show off with a lavish wedding..." Veer continued with a sad face. "Three years ago I believed I'd paid it all. But I get this weird letter from the bank one day asking me to pay more. I don't know, they called it something like Reconsideration Outlay Payment - whatever that means."

    "That's weird. I never heard anything like that before." I suggested.

    "I knew they were fooling me. I thought of going to the court but that's not something I could manage. Then I decided to migrate and came here. I work 19 hours but still can't make it. Eight months remain and I must pay back everything and guess what, with 23% interest."

    "Goodness! 23 on 100? That's terrible! They must be swindlers. You should've sued them man! I wonder why these banks never came up with schemes to help such unfortunate guys."

    A week later Veer called me up. He wanted to see me at the NYPD office. I was scared for what might have happened. He told me someone had broken into his credit card and taken everything from his account.

I was very sad to hear that. Veer had been working very hard to pay off his mortgage but whatever he had earned so far was gone. His cellphone was gone and the burglar had also taken away clothes he had bought for Raj. This was a nasty thing to do for whoever did it. Veer was an incredibly hardworking person, and whoever thought he could get away stealing this man's earning would certainly be punished by God. But Veer didn't look that sad at all.

    "Do you know who stole your money?" Veer said signing the final bits of police papers.
    "You know who did that?" I was horrified. But it seemed like Veer knew that person very well. "I am sure it's that Dhanbahadur Rai from the grunge. Do you know what he calls himself - Daddy on the Hood! He must have stolen all that cash for his hip-hop album. May his CDs catch fire and destroy." Veer cursed Dhanbahadur and it sounded very funny to me.

    "Yeah, that's not a nice thing to do." I sighed. "Who is this Daddy on the Hood?"
    Veer was almost blown away by the question I asked. He just screamed out a loud yell. "Oh! He's horrid. I don't understand how an ordinary chap from Sindhupalchok became a hip-hop artist. He lives with a Nepali girl Jennie, real name - Jamuna Ghising. You see, they're not married but they share a flat. Jennie works in a beauty salon and I hear she does part-time as a porn star.."
"Gee., a porn star!" I was astounded.
"Ya. I suppose she played lead in a Korean porn movie. But I don't know how true that is." Veer opened the office's entrance gate for me.
"So you watch all that stuffs? How do you know that?" I asked.
Now we had come out of the NYPD office and were walking down the street.
"Who me? No. Not at all! I have a lovely wife, a good son. There is nothing more I can ask for. Women? No. I wouldn't sin." Veer calmly spoke as he looked at the shop windows.
We browse through some of the shop. Both of us didn't say a word for some time. After a while, I asked:
    "Why don't you secure your credit cards? Have you been giving out the PIN to everyone?" I suggested. But Veer had very different opinion. "Nay. I know my money. I am sure he peeked into my Credit Card." he whispered into my ears, "He is a dangerous man, I must tell you!" Veer had a point.

    Both of us just walked quietly for some time. Veer looked at his wristwatch, "Owe! Need to rush home. That fellow must be starving by now."

    "Who, Veer, is starving? Do you live with someone?" I asked.
    "No! It's a Nepali guy from the university. He's got meningitis. I was driving him the other day when he fainted in the cab. I didn't have any money to show him to a doc, so took him home. He's recovering." Veer shook his head and smiled.
    "Do you know him?" I was curious.
    "No! But his name is Sharad Baskota and is doing BA at the State University. That's all I know. We aren't related but you see he's a Nepali and I think I must help him. He doesn't know anyone here."
    "That's wonderful. Tell me when he recovers." I was very happy to discover this part of Veer. He was indeed a very nice person. Otherwise who bothers to take care of someone you don't even know?
    "Don't tell me. Last month I found a Nepali girl before she died in a car crash. I admitted her to the hospital but she couldn't survive. None of her friends were willing to do her last rites so I had to pay for her burial. Asses. How gross is that. I couldn't even inform her parents. They're probably still thinking their daughter is alive. Goodness, what happens when they discover she's no more." Veer sighed.

    This man, Veer wasn't an ordinary human being. He could do anything. He was so selfless and generous. He was such an angel. He had come to my life like a whiff of cool breeze and now had become a part of my life. My loneliness was surely vanishing, and Veer's laughter, pranks and jokes were taking over me. My life was changing and all the credits go to Veer.


    Two weeks later I met Veer at the Central Park. I went there whenever I was free, mostly during the evenings. I was strolling around when Veer came and patted me from behind. He had a great smile on his face like always.
    "Do you know Daddy on the Hood's been arrested? They were caught in a shootout with the Harlem grunge." I met him at the prison last night. He was asking for my help but I am not doing any favours to him this time. Let him suffer. Let him learn his lesson.
    "And what were you doing in the prison?" I asked,
    "I drove a cop I knew to the prison. He asked me for coffee and we went in. There I saw the Big daD. I told him straight away, 'Boy, I am not helping you out this time,' and he began to weep. Poor guy!"
    "And you think they'll set him free."
    "Of course they will. In fact they have a couple of times. There's one cop called Steve Adams. He was trapped in one of the bathrooms when the 9/11 thing happened. He was nearly dead when I found him. It was horrible but Steve is glad I saved his life and we have been friends ever since. So he has become kinda yes-man."
   
    It was hard to believe but it was true that the cops would set criminals free on Veer's guarantee. He had, in fact freed Daddy on the Hood a couple of times before. Many other policemen knew him. He was popular in the route he drove.

    So we came out of the Central Park and it was time for us to go. Veer offered me a ride home but I said I would not take one unless I pay him. It took me very long to persuade him to accept the fare. So we jumped into Veer's cab and drove through Manhattan.
    Veer played nice Nepali music as he drove. He had a rich collection of music that he brought from home, or asked his friends to send it to him. He played them to all his customers. They were lovely. Being far away from home, he had not forgotten his country, his men and that was amazing. A little idol of Lord Ganesha was placed on top of the dashboard and Veer's cab was always filled with the serene smell of incense sticks.


    Winter was almost over but the chill hadn't completely departed. It had been a very hazy March morning with bits of shower. I was preparing to leave for work when Veer stood at my doorstep. He was red, his eyes had swollen and face was puffed. Something terrible must have had happened otherwise someone like Veer would never have cried. I was scared to ask. I am not a very good handler of bad times. I grew curious as I walked towards him. He looked at me, filled his eyes with tears and gave me the dreadful news.

    "My Raj is gone. He died yesterday." Veer passed into a fit of tears.
    "Heavens!" My heart grew very heavy. "How.. how did that happen.. I mean.."
"He got hit by a bus. I can't imagine him that way. How must he have felt when that bus drove over him. How must have Phucchi felt. How will she bear the pain? How will I bear.." Veer was chocking with tears. I held and put him in the couch. There was hardly anything I could say to lessen his pain. I just sat there besides stroking his back. It had been such a nasty experience I cannot explain. Veer put his head down and sobbed for a while and suddenly stood up.

"That's it. I am leaving. I don't care if I am supposed to pay any son of a bitch any Reconsideration Outlay Payment. You will have to help me get my tickets and arrange my departure. I am leaving as soon as I can. I can't bear this."

So the same day I helped Veer find tickets and visa. The very next day I went with him to the JFK Airport. He carried a little luggage and nothing else. Veer was defeated by fate. He lost everything he had. His savings were gone, his smiles had faded away and above all his life's biggest hope had been shattered. Veer's life had taken the worst turn.

I stood there at the departure lounge watching Veer go. He walked away till he completely disappeared into the crowd of passengers. I looked on and on like I had lost an important person of my life. Something deep inside me said it was perhaps the last time I was seeing him.

A drop of tear rolled down my eye. I quietly turned around walked away, left lonely like I was ever before.