This shit never ends. Every time I pay my visit to my parents, they never stop telling me the story "When I was your age...". Since this is the time of the year when we perform a religious ceremony know as "16 days of Sharade" in the memory of dead and gone, I kept my lid on.

It seems every one generation before me had harder times than the newer generation. i.e. My father had to walk two miles to reach his school. My grandfather had to rent a place close to school, my great grandfather moved to China for the school etc. Same with luxury, food and leisure that I like to enjoy. My parents never had enough meat or rice and here I am throwing half eaten dinner. If I were to go back to my great grandfather's time, I'm sure they had nothing to eat but rocks and grass. What the hell, am I the luckiest generation or what. I bet my kids will have their own crappy story to tell when they become grandpa/ma. I swear, I will not lie to my kids. I have had the best life and they too can have it all. I'll reverse the pyramid and let them enjoy the fruit of their own success with out raining on their parade. I just hope they too will perform my Sharad when I leave this place. Sorry to rattle your membrane but that's the way I see it folks.

I find 16 Sharade much akin to thanks giving. So many of my relatives get together and fight. Ohhh, I love it. Sisters compete, brothers argue and our guru ji loves the full house. It is perhaps the Nepalese tradition o rthe Hindus in general but non the less, it's a good time spent remembering the dead and preparing for your own demise. The hard part is how do you explain it to your American born to the extend that they too will continue the tradition.