Melancholy descending

Nothing makes me sadder and melancholic than what I take for genuine(and un-cheesy) romance. So today, while we were driving past Kumari, I saw a guy and a girl who were eating/drinking at one of those small shops opposite the hall. And I though, Dang! I could probably write 10,000 words about them, maybe even a short-movie. They kinda like-love each other, and then they separate, not necessarily physically, but just. And then with today's Kathmandu as a backdrop(ya know, the internet, malls, bandas, and all), the story is about how they rediscover the feelings for each other, or not. It's going to be a sad story, maybe not in terms of their story, but our story. It's going to be about Kathmandu's rising middle class, who aspires to go higher and higher, but is always stunted by everything--politics, lawlessness, and the general uselessness. Maybe there'd be a few characters who go abroad or have returned home, but they'll be the showpieces in their usual roles--they realize that they are no more Kathmanduites than they are New Yorkers or Texans or Americans or whatever. While they were abroad, they had pictured their hometown(Kathmandu) as a tiny happy-go-lucky place hardly infiltrated by the so-called 'western values', but when they are here they realize that their friends are actually more progressive than they are.

Perhaps a bit of homophobia and that kinda' stuff too. Someone who's just returned from Kansas(let us assume) thinks his friends will laugh along with him when he derides gays and lesbians, but all he gets is embarrassed silence. A girl who talked to her parents from Brown as often as she did here discovers even her 'sojho' girlfriends have real boyfriends, and frequently get in and out of relationships, something she never considered seriously in her six years at Brown.

...and so on. Those in Kathmandu feel lost because they feel this is not 'it'; they are looking for something more. Those who have returned (to Kathmandu) realize it is nothing like what they had left, and feel like strangers in their own place. Despite facebook and skype, and live videoconferencing, they feel a certain divide is created when you leave home for two years at a time. You see, nothing new here.

Everyone's going to be sad, but the story will not be melancholic when they are sad. True sadness for readers/audiences will come when the characters actually are happy, because that will show how sad it is that they can/have to laugh at such little things. There's nothing better to laugh at, what can be sadder than that?

And then the conclusion, directly or indirectly. We(Nepalis) have never really stayed in a single place. Throughout history we have worked for others in far-off places, hundreds to tens of thousands of kilometres away. That stuff is not new to us, the sadness has been their for centuries. The characters then realize that Nepali culture is a culture for wanderers. The (hindu and buddhist) festivals are more of social festivals than religious ones. The Nepali systems and traditions are well-suited for travelers who rarely come back home.

...And then everyone is happy. They realize what they are feeling is nothing new, and that they have all the means to deal with emotions they are dealing with, culturally, socially, and morally. At the end, they don't become happy. Everyone is just less sad. And that is how we have ALWAYS been.

In the final scene, there's a get together of some rich Nepali girls and guys in a fine Paris(cliché, I know, but still sooo romantic) meeting after, like a year. They're laughing and messing around and having fun in general, but they are not happy. They are just less sadder than they always are,