Monday, 14 December 2015


Fisherman and his wife lived in a secluded hut nearby the river bank. He was very caring and hardworking husband. Every day he went for fishing and then took it to the market for selling. With that money, he bought enough provisions to last for a week. He also bought clothes and gifts for his wife who really endeared surprise from him.  She was a modest housewife, sincere and hardworking. She would wake up early, complete her chores and share her bed tea together. They adored each other very much. One fateful day the husband was out for fishing. The weather otherwise fine in the morning changed. Thunders rumbled and sky blackened menacingly. It started to rain, the torrent gushed aloud. She felt anxious and kept her vigil on the wall clock. Incessant rain made her scared and her pulse increased. She stayed put and crossed fingers for her husband's safety. At length the sky slowly cleared and the sun reappeared.
When the rain stopped she stepped out, headed for the stream. The river had swollen alarmingly. She went to the spot where sometimes they went together for fishing.  Presently she saw nothing. She checked all around but in vain. After a frantic search, she just came upon a pile of his clothing and the lunch box she had packed. Even his fishing gears lied haphazardly. On closer inspection she saw something disturbing.  She knew he had slipped off the rock.  Knew not what to do, she cried and yelled. He would not be there for her bed tea; no one will surprise her with gifts.  She remembered his kind and caring words. Above all she knew she had lost her savior.  She looked at her fingers that were blotchy and diminishing with leprosy. When she was ostracized and forbidden by the society, not even her parents stood by her side.  She was a disgrace and ignominious to her family. However empowered by love, he did not abandon her. Her skin distorted and beauty degraded, but his love remained undeterred. In fact, he pitied and loved her ever more.
Slowly she immersed her feet in the water running cold, currents hit her hard. This time, she plunged deeper and disappeared. The next day husband reached home panting and perspiring. The doors were open and windows creaked with winds. When he did not find her inside, he headed to the river. Only her slippers lied over the stones. He could not hold his tears, after so many years of enormous pain and struggle leprosy did not take her life but the river. 

Friday, 11 December 2015


Deki was a very good friend of mine. She was from a well off family. Though her parents were very rich, their marital relationship was not in a good shape. Frequently they would quarrel and the conversation would dry up for a long time. It was deki who had to bear the severe brunt of their unstable bond.  One time I went to get my book from her house, I heard a commotion ongoing inside. The door was ajar, I could see her parents quarreling followed by the sound of a flower vase breaking and photo frames slamming the marbled floor. Just then the door to dekis room also slammed shut; I heard her sobbing over the pillow. Deki would not share about her problem to anyone, not even to me. She was more resilient than I imagined. She would deliberately delay going home, together strolled along the children park and relished stuff from the hawker. She would never let me pay even if I wanted to. As a token of friendship, she would allow me to carry her backpack full of books. Back then we had a tremendous book to carry added by novel and lunch box. The basic conflict in her family can be blamed for the mismatch in their habit while her dad was a heavy drinker and mom was a serious gambler, both were reluctant to admit.
One day we were walking along the footpath. I was carrying her bag and my own. Along the sideways, beautiful daffodils bloomed amongst the lush clover grass. We wanted to pluck some lucky leaves (four-leaved) and got down to work. As I bent down a small container felt loose from the side of the bag and rolled over.  I picked it up; it read “rodenticide” deadly poison.  I simply pushed back inside her bag. While going back, I enquired about the container and she said that it was to kill rats in her house. Nothing crossed my mind, I dropped her home. Later that night I was leaning against the wall and wondering. Her house is very need and rats are out of a question. Then I remembered incidence of suicide by consuming rat poison. Immediately I dialed her, there was no respond on the other end. I ran towards her house, took almost half an hour. As usual the door was ajar, I heard her parents quarreling. This time, I mustered courage and entered, her parents were astounded. I rushed to her room, saw her sobbing. The stuff was on the table, and I took in my pocket. She was shocked and happy. I said that I came borrow her book.
Today after 20 years, when I meet with her I ask the same question, she always say that it was to kill rats in her house. But deep within I still believe I saved her life.

Sunday, 6 December 2015

smiling girl.

Like always I arrived at the station punctually and boarded the bus prior to its departure time. Few minutes later the engine ignited the bus galloped. It pulled over at many places picking up and dropping the passengers simultaneously. I did not give much of my attention to anything around me instead kept busy with the newly bought lava phone.
In the distance I could see a bus stop and few girls in the vicinity awaiting the bus. As it pulled over,a girl with a tall stature hailed at our bus. Her hair was unkempt and falling behind her ears. I assure not many caught her attention like I did. I sneaked a glance at her. At length the bus halted subsequently she entered. The hand bag in her arms told me she was a college –goer, supposedly of my age too.
The scenario inside the bus was bad, cramped with massive commuters.  Seemingly she would have to stand and travel, seats were occupied already.  I felt bad because the road ahead was bumpy. It is always miserable to balance our leg while bus kept jerking and braking.  Momentarily she was squeezed in the crowd but somehow near my seat. We exchanged glances; she smiled though no obvious reason. Just in a moment an old lady also entered. My courtesy was put into dilemma, my seat otherwise to be given to the standing angel needed to be sacrificed now.  I offered my place to the old woman, stood up next to the girl. I was literally breathing her air too, when the bus jerked our bodies brushed. Might have applied baby cream, she smelt cute. Her hairs fell over my face too, it was out of her control and she apologized. In fact I was glad that it happened, i wished even if she lost control of her lips.

Just then the bus pulled over, she prepared to get down. I did not find a stomach to say goodbye, simply smiled.  The engine started and the bus moved, from the window I gazed her until we passed a sharp vent. Little later i helped the old woman to get down, she acknowledged my courtesy, bit me goodbye. 
in a mirror of dreams ,
from the pocket of love .
threw a stone of hopes
from broken pieces shard,
grasp my hand in blood.

Saturday, 5 December 2015

heart broken

I woke up and washed up, put a brisk mak-eup. With gel I shoved my hair up into spikes, sprayed the cheap perfume. I went near the mirror examined my outfit, blue t- shirt and jeans. At length I stripped it off, did not look good on me, put on the only levis t-shirt I had, it was a good catch. Meanwhile I was looking at the phone and awaiting a beep of message. One text came and plunged out right, I blew a kiss on the screen and unlocked. It was spam message from the company, I deleted it with vengeance. For about past one month, I had been exchanging non -stop text with her. Asking what she had for her lunch?, how was her day , good night sweet dreams so on. The prompt reply with lot of funny emoticons was so sweet, giving tough time to hide the smiles from my roommate. Every text I sent brought me closer to her, hopes and expectations welled up. Soon we started going around together, met at cafe and in the canteen, walked along the road and amongst the lush field.  Those were the times when I wished that I could thus live for thousand years. Her message started to become indispensable part of my daily feelings. There is something spell in her words that would defy any mans feeling, just as bee is drawn to a rose. The secret of correspondence was short lived, soon many people became fishy about us, even the walls got eyes and ears. Presently there was a second beep in the phone, I rushed for it. With abundant smiles I followed the lines,
dear phuntsho, not know how to tell. From the beginning itself I should have warned you but I did not. I am sorry it was my entire fault; I let your expectation spring up.  We have been good friends till date and I want you to feel the same ever, hop you are not thinking beyond. Hereafter let’s limit our text for urgent times only; I am sorry I cannot hang with you anymore. Tk.
Like a flies to the flame, I feel burnt and broken.. Mirror of dreams came breaking down into pieces.     No words came to reply back. All I can do was remove my shoes and the levis shirt. Pulled the blanket and ducked inside. Suddenly wake-up call played and I was woken, it was 3am. Everything was dream and in the dream I slept heartbroken. 

Saturday, 28 November 2015

an unexpected letter

When I was in intermediate school I had a crush on one girl form our own class. I will not describe how beautiful she was because its undeniable. May be through friends or by herself she came to reveal my feeling for her; however no miracle occurred in our relationship. Thus the time elapsed and we were basically engaged with our studies. As usual I was a backbencher, enjoying what was screened in the front rows. Occasionally I would sneak a glance at her and then pretend as if I was studying. At recess and during free classes I would watch her, while she fondled pencil in between her fingers skillfully.  she loved chatting, especially with her desk partner the conversation would be endless. Our class was full of fun and games. Often I needed to control their voice because I was the class captain, the post I largely hated. Although we were in class twelve but friends were worst than children in doing prank. Sticking chewing gum on back, tying the shoe laces and doodling funny images were favorite pranks they enjoyed. That way few months had passed. The march had ended and lushness of summer had commenced. The rivers swelled and rains showered. One morning my friend came and handed me a chit telling it was form her.  i couldn’t believe my ears and eyes. I didn’t open the letter until the night. I was tearfully happy for the first time ever. The words went;
Dear phuntsho,
How long shall we go without confessing our soft corner to each other? I know you love me and don’t deny it. I loved you ever since the year began. Let us get in relationship. Tk.
 With love
April fool.
1st april.

I laughed inside the blanket for my friends had executed a perfect prank.  

Friday, 27 November 2015

the woman in the field.

The weather was ideal and prefect for strolling around the campus field. The sun was down and its orange rays dusted in the sky. In the distance the train travelled, hissing and its engine rumbling. On other days there would be farmers ramping up their days work and walking home. A typical Indian woman, in their beautiful sari one hand akimbo and balancing some load on their head. From behind I could calculate their steps, they would tread along in line laughing and joking with their counterpart.  Presently not a single sign of life was seen, it was pitch silent and I was a solitary walker. I walked along the path amidst the lush crops. The corn was in prime growth, the tall sugarcane leaves waved in the wind. Somewhere afar, lonesome shadow stood firm at the edge of the field. I reckon it was a girl, because her hairs were untied and fluttered in the air. She had a figure tall and slim, assumed to be sexy. I felt curious; it is unusual to find a girl alone and at this odd time. I gathered what if she was in trouble and needed some help or is she awaiting her lover? No not at this time and I retracted that notion.  As I got closer, i could distinguish even the outfit she wore. Red t-shirt and skin tight jean possibly a Levis or Denim. I could smell the expensive perfume she had applied. Those were the clues, she could not be farmer. Trend of her dressing got a northeast touch, even the perfume. The breeze came and swept her unkempt hair. I reached close to arms length, still she did not budge and neither she spoke.  Suddenly gush of wind came and she fell down, i plunged for a frantic rescue, only to discover that she was scarecrow in tight jeans and red t-shirt.  

Thursday, 26 November 2015

the sacrifice

Woman was ailing from long terminal illness, clinically declared as acute renal (kidney) failure, basically was severe kidney cancer that needed intensive care. Both her kidney had collapsed; her body was inside the intensive care unit (ICU), fitted to several oxygen cylinders and sophisticated wires injected into her body. Though she had to go through the pain but she was not alone. Her son stood by her side in all the crucial times and he wanted to sacrifice more. He was the best son she had, his love, dedication and care were ineffable. Last thing he can do to save his mother was to give one of his kidneys. Every formality was completed and his medical condition examined. He wore the maroon surgical gown and awaited arrival of his dear wife. His surgery was due in half hour.  He sat in the  waiting room, biting his clenched knuckle, stood up and made several short walk about the hall way. Few minutes later sharp siren of ambulance resonated outside the hospital.  Subsequently nurses rushed and cleared way for the stretcher coming in carrying dead bodies and blood soaked accident victims.  Stretcher carrying body of young girl came passed him, everything happened in slow motion. It was his dear wife; she was critically injured in that bus accident and taken inside ICU. Doctors plugged oxygen mask on her face and sedated with tranquillizer.  He stood near the door; doctor came out and said that his wife had massive internal injury and needed immediate kidney transplant.  He felt speechless, stricken with fear and grief. Image of his dear wife flickered in his mind, her care, love and dedication. He looked at the door of adjacent chamber where his dear mom was lying lifelessly. His eyes could no longer hold back the tears, but he needed to be decisive lest both the patient would die. For the last time in his life, he looked at his mom and turned away towards his wife chamber for the operation.

Tuesday, 24 November 2015

the ring

A boy loved a girl head over heels. She was very beautiful and possessed a modest character. One day the boy decided to propose her, it was the Valentine’s Day. From the florist he got a fresh rose bouquet.  The roses were deep red and afresh with dew drops. The weather was very cold outside; the mountains were covered in the snow. Sparrow glided in the sky singing beautiful songs. He went to a gift shop and bought a silver ring. The ring cost him 5000 ngultrum, in his wallet he just had the exact amount. He recalled the week long nights of work he did to earn that amount and sighed a complacent smile. The gifts were placed in the front pouch of his bicycle. He headed towards her apartment.
 The snowflakes dropped and staked on roads. The temperature was dropping rapidly.  While crossing a junction, a Mercedes car in full speed came sliding. The snows had made the road slippery.  The car crashed right onto his bicycle and he was thrown away. His blood smeared the snowy road. The roses lay scattered alongside and the ring landed near his body. He clasped few roses and the ring in his hand and slowly gave up his breath. 

The girl was sipping a hot espresso when she decided to switch channel form "Starplus" to "BBC". The news about the fatal accident broke the headlines. The camera showed the fragments of rose and the ring lying in his grasp. She blurted “hallelujah” ! felt sorry for the victim.  She checked her watch and then switched channel to” Sony”. It was time for her favourite serial ‘crime patrol” . 

Saturday, 21 November 2015

i only she knew.

Phuntsho was shy and man of few words.  He was fond of reading. There would be always something   to read in his hand. He would amuse himself by watching his friends shout and tease each other. He would laugh silently and his emotions were barely expressed. His seat was at the last end of the corner, this provided him some edge to remain alone and better view of his friend’s childish doing in the front. He was observant and his eyes knew exactly when to read or harmonize with those girls in the front seat. Just like most timid and demure guy suffer silently, blade of unexpressed love and hop sliced his heart. Over time he fell in a secret crush.  Though by himself he lacked courage to approach her but his reaction in her presence spilled most of  his secrets. Deki was fun loving and outgoing type. Her beauty was unblemished and her trendy dressing charmed it more. in her presence he fidgeted and his voice shook. His cheek would flush apple and by deki  revealed his secret feeling for her. Despite his shy nature, she teased him and sought means to converse. Days and months passed, the season changed.  Outside the flowers on the cherry plant blossomed, birds gathered grasses for making nest. One fine morning Phuntsho slipped a tiny letter inside the book which deki left on the table.  When she was back from the recess, she picked up the book and headed for the library. On the prior night she has finished her novel and was due for submission. She stared at the cover page for some minute, the title wrote in bold ‘ if only she knew” by james arther. She gently gave a kiss and shoved it among the endless shelves. 

Wednesday, 18 November 2015

to kill a mocking bird

I googled for some good books to read, and instantly they suggested me with long list of books. Many of the authors were stranger to me and haven’t read any of their work till date.  One book among them was the “kill a mocking bird” by Harper lee. I am reading her novel for the first time and it has enticed me to read more of her work. Its really an awesome book written in simple English, easy to understand and the plot in the story are also splendid. From what I perceived, the book covers every topic from love , crime and about racial scenario from  those times.  The main story talks about a widower Atticus and his two children jean and jem respectively. Dad is lawyer and he defends the innocent from the false conviction. He is a kind person and open minded, seen defending black people in the court against the white. Those times racial discrimination prevailed, we was rare for a white to fight in blacks cause. In fact his advice to his children was also noble, asking to treat everyone equal and condemned racism. The children are repeatedly spotted going to black church, even in court they seat in the black designated area.
 By and large the story is told from the perspective of the two children. Jeane is sister but more like guy type, outgoing and agile.  Brother jem and she would be fight over silly reasons , but at the end of the day their love remain strong.  They are adventurous and notorious often. When their friend dill joins for the vacation, they would be there would be more exploration.  There is a neighbor Arthur radley aka boo, who loves to remain mostly inside the house. the children feared him so much, yet curious to allure him outside, they devise lot of plans . they always perceive him to be dangerous and harmful especially despised kids. But things give different turn towards the end,  they loves him so much.
When tom robinson is convicted for a rape and man handling of white girl mydylla. But atticus is not convinced about the accusation, and defend him in a trail.  But he looses and even the tom is found death afterwards. Meanwhile the victims father ewell, a malicious and vicious man , avenges them for defending tom. His vengeance was so severe that he attempts to harm the two children. It was during a haloween pageant program , while the kids were returning by themselves from the school , they gets attacked. Tom assault them and try to kill them but boo come in rescue and he saves the children. Tom  is killed , jem is also injured bed ridden.  Unlce boo in contrary to what they perceived helps them and stays nearby jem .  Atticus put her to sleep and then goes to nurse jem. The story ends there..

Monday, 9 November 2015


It was my wish to write up some tribute to his majesty the king but I seriously lacked words to express myself. While going through the various encomiums posted in the page ´writers association of Bhutan”  I was mesmerized by the quality and the expression they have applied to their writings. It was really beautiful and articulate. Well on my part I am devoid of such skills and my ability to express is handicapped.  By and large the it may remain an individual talent to be able to write up any prose or tribute, but what is more important is the genuineness of the feeling we are putting into the writings.  i have also written some lines in dedication to the anniversary , however I feel my words are inadequate and lack any charm that normal writer are supposed to maintain. What we as a citizen of Bhutan should remember is that everything his majesty did for our nation is beyond any words of a writer. Very survival of nation is the sacrifice and service that his majesty did for us. The birth anniversary itself was divine blessing fulfilling the prophecy of sage terton drukdra dorji. With today his majesty turns 60, and is moment for a reflection to the past. its time to look back how our nation transgressed under the leadership of our king. Ruling through thick and thin periods of the history, with undeterred love and passion , his majesty sacrificed everything for the nation. Today Bhutan stands not simply as country but a happiest nation in the world. His majesty adorned our nation with all the elements to be appreciated by the whole world. Its under his sheer leadership that aspects of culture, heritage and livelihood of people seen vibrant changes that enticed the world wide. On the whole , our king will always remain our hero  and his deed for the nation will be inscribed in the heart of all generation to come. Thus I have written a simple poem for his majesty.

Six decades of love and kindness,
Reign of blessings and merriment.
Heaven played the song of harmony,
Rejoiced and cherished his endearment.
Here I salute to the king of unparalleled destiny.

Bestowed with unmatched charisma,
At very young age was he enthroned.
Enthroned with mystical ravens crown,
 Enshrined with equality, justice and kindness.
Ruled his subject as children of one family,
As father he protected and loved as mother.
Here I salute to the king, the parent of our nation.

Selfless service to the nation and peoples welfare,
Framed with the holistic philosophy of GNH
From roads, telephone to television,
In health, education and agriculture,
Tremendous developmental activities he pioneered.
Here I salute to the king, the architect of our nation.

Life and blood he sacrificed for the nation,
Wearing an armour of patriot and divine love.
Threats and enemies he vanquished thus,

 In glory and victory the flag of nation waved,
Praise to the king the patriot of the nation.

Lots of love on this joyous anniversary,
Tremendous happy returns of the day.
 Thank you and Kadrinche mewang cho,
You are greater than any words expressed.

Friday, 16 October 2015

cherry blossoms

I always imagine about our thimphu city being embellished with abundant ornamental trees, that would add beauty and glamour to already natural beauty that our city area possess. There are many trees like cherry blossoms, maple, dogwood , etc that are really exquisite and refreshing. The flower of this plant creates a picturesque surrounding and also scent the air with sweet fragrance. For instance in japan the cherry blossoms are widely grown, these trees bears flowers which so magnificent and literally paints the sky in different colours. Similarly if we can introduce those beautiful plants to Bhutan , it can really facelift the beauty of our place. Particularly the capital city really needs some diverse trees of aesthetic essence. Given our climatic conditions similar to that of japan and korea where cherry blossoms are grown extensively, we can seemingly grow this in the thimphu valley or elsewhere.
Some of the possible location in thimphu where we can plant those splendid trees are road edge of the  babesa express way , way to the kuenselphodrang, and on the outskirts of the town as well. Currently thipmphu city has very common trees all over the places. Basically there are only willow trees and cypress , although beautiful but they hardly flowers. If we look into the road to Buddha point there are only pine trees, which is virtually mundane and not so refreshing. Suppose if we edges of the road are planted with maple or cherry , then the surrounding will look amazing and it would add more splendor to the magnificent Buddha. Furthermore it would serve as a perfect rendezvous for taking stroll and clicking photos etc. its good to see that the paro- thimphu highway has been planted willow trees stretch, although it  will take some time and care for these plants to properly stand with full elegance.
Today our country is appraised for its natural beauty and forest coverage. Its imperative for us to maintain and conserve these gifts of nature, but it is still important to enhance the existing beauty by introducing more trees form elsewhere; breeding more diverse varieties of trees etc. everyone would cherish and embrace the new scenario with beautiful trees everywhere.if we can do this, then we will set an another paradigm for the world to envy for.

book review

Last time while on the way to shimla , inside the bus a book peddler came holding huge stakes of books in his arm. The entire spines of the books were facing me. Briskly I scanned the titles and then came across this novel “gone girl” by Gillian Flynn. I have heard the title before , and later realized It was from motion pictures.  After little bargain  I purchased the book and ever since it was travelling along with me. However I didn’t start reading until I reached back to college. Few days back I graced the book and it was my good past time for the weekend.

The ‘ Gone girl,’ by Gillian Flynn is a very nice novel. It talks about a girl who suddenly disappears from her own house. Everyone thinks that she is being murdered by her own husband  nick dunes . He comes under a very severe interrogation and frequently detained for the alleged murder. All the while his sister and his friend stand by his side trying to prove that he was not guilty of any crime. Later they somehow know that the missing girl ‘Amy’ has feigned her own disappearance. Her intention was to avenge her husband after knowing that he was having a secret affair with andie. She plans to send him to the jail by faking her disappearance and making it look like a murder. However the story makes a different turn. when she learns that nick was still in love with her and was willing to forgive her she make a different choice.  She is so intelligent and fake another series of story that would eventually help her go back to him. while she was at loose , she stayed at desis place . desi is her school friend who then used to stalk her . Desi falls in her snare, she murders him after having sex to make it look like she was bring  raped and held hostage. Then she make a very smart and untraceable comeback.  Let alone being apprehended she is celebrated and appraised as a hero. she is thought to have killed the rapist and freed herself from the captivity. Although her husband knows the truth but however he also eventually gets enticed .meanwhile she conceives a child and all the traces of hatred and mistrust of her the husband disappear too. They live once again.

Saturday, 19 September 2015

College life

Four years in this college
in the sheer pursuit of knowledge.
Days have gone and fast
there is nothing forever that can last.
Shy and timid at first ,
like a bud who is supposed to burst.
Over the time things have changed,
though with  some  not even a word I exchanged.
met the students from any race,
excel in their duty like an ace.
Came across girls  cute and  pretty,
feel like you are in new York City.
 Envy those couple at eve  walk,
in contrast, girl I dread let alone talk.
 College is a big time privilege ,
out bound from home like  on pilgrimage.
Sometimes we  are rich and
often  broke and almost famish.
 Friends are like rainbow and dazzle,
sometime they are source of our hassle.
Best part of college is the freedom,
away from parents and Kingdom.
its a journey along path of  emotions,
happy, sad ,angry and so on,
this way four years I came on,
soon away have to fly like swan.

Friday, 18 September 2015

my son.

I was in the hospital for some check up as my stomach was not feeling well since morning. In the waiting hall, there was a child. He was playing with a toy and was lost in his world. He was a handsome child, but his clothes were dirty and his nose was filled with phlegm. Something about that child fascinated me unusually. I couldn’t question my instinct; some divine like power brought me closer to the innocent kiddo. I went near to the kid and asked his name .He said, “ne gi ming sonam enn la,”  ie. “my name is sonam”.  I asked where his parents were. I was told he has only mom and presently went to get some medicine, I knew it was from the dispensary.  I fished my pocket and found some chocolates, gave it to him. He was excited and interacted more. I asked his whereabouts, he was from zhemagang. Just the prior day they have reached  to Thimphu. They came to meet his dad, he said that his dad was very rich and has a big job. i said “well nice to meet you sonam, see ya .” i took out some notes and gave him . As and when I was leaving out of the hospital I saw Tshomo. In her hand was a big plastic, inside i could see the black x-ray files and plenty of medicines. On her back was another child who was momentarily asleep. She did not see me and I didn’t want to face her. Hastily I scampered out of the hospital. I went few yards and stopped short, glanced inside through the polarized window. I saw sonam running towards his mom, showed off the notes that I gave him. . i wished I had given  him little  more, my heart ached. Tears welled my eyes, I drove homewards. The reason goes back to past and I recalled it vividly.
It was during one of the summer vacation long time ago, I decided to pay a visit to my brother in Tashigang.  He was newly employed and stationed there. The voyage was not very cheerful, roads were in bad condition. There were couple of landslides and the rain kept pouring. The bus had to move slowly to avoid the risk of sliding while from the window I could see the height of the cliff over which we were rolling, It made my stomach sick. Presently I crossed my fingers and prayed, the cliff descended several thousand meters below. The road connecting eastern Bhutan has lots of bad reputation, especially In summer it’s a death trap. I recalled one major accident, when a bus went off the cliff killing almost whole passengers. I closed my eyes and waited for the bus to pass that prone area quickly.  We heaved a sigh of relief, as the bus reached the other end of the cliff. That was story of my first journey towards the east, but the story doesn’t end here.
The hamlet of zhemgang was very beautiful and serene. All was green and the elegant bamboos surrounded the village. The wind blew through the bamboo and they danced in delight. The grasses were tall, and cows grazed to their hearts content. There were not many houses; even the main town was tiny. People were very courteous and their hospitality was beyond words. Children played all day long, in sun or in rain they played alike. The women were very beautiful and simple. Even with little or no makeup at all they look amazing. The women were somewhat workaholic, and sincere in their task. From dawn to dusk they would be engaged in some work and staying idle was out of question.  At night every house hold sent somebody to guard their crops from wild animals. Usually man did the night patrolling but woman were also obliged to undertake such daunting task. Just as the night has fallen, the village awakened by the shouting and beating of tins to scare away the animals. The tiny light beaconed from several makeshift houses enchanting the sky like  thousand twinkling stars.
The next day I met with more friends and acquainted with friends of my brother as well. We had get-together and gossiped like girls. Dinner was always sumptuous and plentiful. After dinner we would have alcohol boiled with egg , and  chopped-up chilies as salad.  One night I asked them about the famous custom of night hunting among boys in zhemgang.  Although I felt awkward for putting up that question, but they weren’t in contrast. In fact most of them had ventured into the hunting at least once. I realized I was the only guy without that experience. Later after the dinner some of them already left for night endeavor but I had no stomach to take the move. Thereafter, our fiesta was mostly filled with talks about night hunting and their success rate. Most of the mission was accomplished but often they encounter tough resistance from the woman, who would not dread to kick and hit with whatever able at hand.
My vacation was nearing end, I was enjoying every moment in that beautiful place. However I was not ready to leave that place without experiencing the aspects of night hunting. I was determined to go at least once. Few days passed and I couldn’t go still. I was scared of the darkness and I was scared to encounter resistance. Eventually the night before I was due to leave that place, I resolved to go in search of fateful prey. Towards the midnight I could see some dim light of the torch walking in vast field, I knew they were other men who were also on the same operation.  Unlike other men, who went randomly searching every hut for girl , I chose my destination. i knew one girl called tshomo and I knew where her field was. Straightway I headed for her hut and tried my luck. The hut was raised on a pole and stood at the far edge of the field. I prowled with my torch off. With some difficulties I reached the ladder and ascended.  The door was frail made from bamboo, and any one inside could be seen easily.  I saw her alone ,weaving a cane basket. I gently pushed the door and entered, she was taken aback. thank god!  At least she wasn’t enraged to see me. For some time I couldn’t say anything let alone touch her. Simply we laughed and sat by the hearth. We chatted for long time and took some black tea. Suddenly it started to rain, it stamped heavily on the roof. She told me she was sleepy and assigned me to pull the bell to chase away the animal. The night was filled with reverberant sound of raindrops. My Temptation surged up, before I could realize, I had already took hold of her soft hands. She did not resist. Gingerly I   kissed her lips and she became statue. The fire in the hearth had long died, I slowly blew off the flickering lamp and it went pitch dark.
That was the memory. It has deprived my sleep and my appetite. The feeling of guilt and betrayal was stabbing my heart from every angle. i knew who sonam was. I understood he was missing his dad like any other child; he wanted his rich dad to take him and buy an ice cream. He wanted his dad to buy him a bicycle. I wonder whether his step father is treating him well. My minds were tormented. The next day, I didn’t even go to my office, straight away I headed for the hospital. I searched every nook and corner, but I did not see sonam. My eyes flooded, I went because  i wanted to confess to him that I am not rich, I do not have big job but still I am the dad he was looking for.  My search was futile. Suddenly  my phone beeped, it was the manager. He was infuriated and scowled atop his voice, “ where the hell you are?” the cows have trespassed ,damaged the garden”  and he hung up. I realized my blunder; I has forgotten to lock the office gate last night.

Monday, 31 August 2015

views on establishing slaughter house in bhutan.

In the wake of recent discussion in the parliament about whether or not to establish slaughter house has sparked an immense debate among the various citizens. In a Buddhist country like ours, where the fundamental principle of living is empowered by love and compassion, the push to establish a slaughter house depicts the  greatest  irony of all time. Regardless of the various benefits that the slaughter house is viewed to provide , its has hurt the sentiments of many devoted Buddhists and central monastic body in particular. There are even widespread rumor that the country will sooner run into chaos and misfortune since the news has provoked our gods. However not every people is against the idea of setting up of the slaughter house. There are considerable number of people who thinks that an import on huge meat products from India should be banned, rather emphasize on a producing a home processing unit that can ensure clean, reliable and timely meat products.

Its apparent ,in respect to our Buddhist philosophy, the idea of establishing a slaughter house would mean  committing a huge sin. An innocent lives of countless animal would be sacrificed. Seemingly the massive  blood spilled from the kill and various residue from the site would eventually end up in streams, thus polluting the sanctity of the place. Even the location of the house would have significant impact on the people living nearby. for instance the sharp cries and wailing of animals can deprive the serenity of place not to mention the actual scenario inside the house. if we consider the present customary habit of Bhutanese regarding the consumption of meat ,we take only imported meat which are frozen and visually clean,  people hardly kill themselves and cannot stand the sight of butchering let alone consuming the meat products. Establishing of such killing venture brings in a very big question, that’s is it spiritually, morally and ethically justified?

 According to some research , Bhutan was ranked on top list when it come to import of meat products. This is a very big irony for Buddhist country .We cannot go on by saying we didn’t kill or we eat only imported meat, because question is not who is the butcher but who is eater. Logically we are compelling them to kill for us. These animals are killed somewhere in India , whereas we are devoid of  the details of  any slaughter house. How things are done abroad is not in our fingertips, hence the concern is , “are these meat up to the standard?” Or is it really certified meat that is  fit for consumption. Who knows if they sent buffalo and say its beef meat, similarly we got to ask ourselves that whether the meat we get in the shop is really beef or meat of some unknown animal such as dogs. Considering this issues, need to the establishment of slaughter house within our country appears paramount. If we have our own processing unit then the quality , sanitation and hygiene would be ensured. Furthermore it can ensure the availability and promptness in the delivery service  anytime.

Suppose if we consider the viewpoint of the monks and devoted Buddhist , the idea of slaughter house would be a mere act of crime. It would be a crime against the Buddha's doctrine of love and compassion. Already the central monastic body lead by his holiness Jekhenpo, condemned the governments decision and has shown strong resentment to  it. Because in the first place we are forbidden to kill , even if we hire some foreigner butcher to carry the work, the sin will be equally committed. We belief if we commit big sins  such as killing of innocent animals for fulfilling our selfish and greedy desires, time will take toll on us. By and by we will run into chaos and disharmony. The natural disasters and calamities would flare up claiming the lives of many people. For instance the massive earth quake that brought Nepal to ground was thought to be the curse of our angry gods for defying their will. In this light government of Nepal has banned one festival involving huge sacrificial ceremony, where thousands of cows were  being slaughtered. Well its in our hand whether to choose the same fate as those countries or avert our ways towards more happiness , prosperity and harmony  under our almighty's blessings.


To understand things more clearly, we have to go to back to the past. People back then were  not pure vegan ,and the meat products they consumed were not imported from anywhere abroad. If somebody needs  meat then they have to do the killing themselves. By and large , every household would have their own livestock , when meats were needed the animals were slaughtered. It was a custom to rear pigs and were slaughtered when the festive were up-close . Often in some parts of the country  , the courage of the kids were judged by their ability to slaughter pigs and goats , killing was a part of their livelihood. However gone are those days , today we cannot even stand the sight of  killings let alone carrying out the job. People have almost abandoned the act of killing , because the meats are readily available in the market , on top of that we are  attuned to the profound teachings of Buddha. Only if we have forsaken the habit of eating meat as well, when home killings were renounced then matter would have different turn. But this is virtually impossible logic. At present we import so much of meat products. An irony is, already  our country is in economic crisis and running into huge debt. Apparently import of meat is one amongst many  that is draining our money. We hardly have  piggery, there are only few fisheries , and poultry is way limited to eggs only. We are not producing anything of our won. If we take this into account , then there is a dire need of setting up slaughter house within our country . in the longer run it would benefit our countrys scarse economy. 
by and large , the establishment of  slaughter house  will remain one of the most debated topic not alone in the parliament but amongst the citizen as well. Every individual would have their own perspective. When the government made this decision, we believe that they have considered all the pros and cons while setting  up such ventures. Though it has drawn lots of criticism and strong opposition from the monastic body ,  we can also see the benefits of setting such houses. As a concerned citizen , I have shared the views on this topic but whether or not I support the decision by the government  is difficult to say. From some angle need to establish slaughter house appear as paramount step, but when we consider all the religious and spiritual backdrops the need of slaughter house is otherwise. as an individual I would neither support nor refute the the idea of setting up such slaughter houses. My suggestion would be, if government set up such houses, there should be proper regulation and stringent measures to limit the number of killings in year whereas if  the things remain unchanged like today the government should really reform the rules of import of meat products. Beef Ban and other strategies to minimize import should be made stricter.

Thanks ….

Thursday, 27 August 2015

beautiful day.

With onset of summer monsoon , the grasses are growing lushly . Everywhere looks green , the playground is carpeted with lushness too.  The trees are showered and look afresh. The rain removes the dust from the road  making it very clean .  students carrying colourful bags and books are outbound for college. Since there was a mild rainfall in the morning, the prognosis of a sky burst made many girls to open up their umbrella. The campus look amazing with dazzling  umbrella walking in all direction. The air is resonated with laughter and merry  vibes from the  classroom. Somewhere not afar , students are singing their hymns in height of devotion. The salvation is in the air too. The gardener is engaged in weeding, he always ensure that an  aesthetic decorum of the college is  kept up to date. The fruitless tree stand erect in an orchard, except for some golden bers. The field has been prepared for cultivation of gladiolus in the upcoming season. The grapevines entwines along a support in never ending line. The giant palm tree stand with his head held high in the sky. The beauty is at every breath and every step  slowly becoming an inseparable part of me.

Thursday, 11 June 2015

Internship at NOP. Semtokha

I am doing intern in NOP  National Organic  Programme, along with two of my colleagues. All of us were so excited and eager to join the office anytime. Personally I felt lot apprehensive about joining service and it was my first time experience.  Still studying in college I feel strange to office or service life. I have to pretend like matured man,act like a officer or  walk the talk like any other officer. But my blood is stull vibrant and filled with college livelihood. To put out point blank I am not yet  ready to join service. 
At least  we are fortunate that our coordinator is very frank and amiable lady with premium qualification. From the first day itself she arranged One  room for us. Three tables and three revolving chairs were provided. We rushed for the best chair and sat playing like a kid  .It was awesome to sit and roll from one corner to another on the chair. 
However things ain't always pleasant like we anticipate. I thought we would be bogged down with works and engaged to one activity or another. Often we consider to live a life with no work at all, but today I realised when we don't have a work we have  all the boredom. Sitting ideal on a chair, surfing wifi and then flipping few pages is boring by far. It's rediculous looking for how to squander time, when on other times it run short to spare for toilet also. Yawning has become inevitable, and my friends even doze off. 
Madam has promised us to engage into practical work and we are looking forward for it. 

Monday, 8 June 2015

an armyworm.

Major pest infesting the crops during this season is an armyworm. Notably found in every farmers field and in orchards, Lawns etc. It's creepy to see massive number of these worms crawling all over the lawn ,on the roads and in vicinity of house.  The insect posses an eyesore characteristics. They have dirty appearance and disgusting body . Since they come in large number like an army,  they are frequently  stepped over by humans or ran over by cars . Already they have ambushed all the grasses near our house and are  resilient to turn back. They crawl over the concrete floor and even enter inside .
Being saga dawa this month is sacred and we are forbidden from any killing and destroying of any lives regardless of the magnitude of their infestation. It's a big irony because,this season is time for growing veggies and paddy cultivation. We have to decide in becoming a sympathezer or curb this pest infestation. my biggest concern is that if we don't act outright these pest would surely inflict a considerable loss to the farmers.  

Sunday, 7 June 2015

Night mare

I was all alone asleep when  night mare shook away my sleep. Immediately I reached for my phone and looked at the time ,it was 2.30am. Room was very dark and silence was as dead. Cacophony of Barking dogs filled the air outside.  I remembered people saying that, dogs alone can see ghost at night hence they  bark relentlessly. My bladder felt like bursting, scarily I visited the washroom.  Telling myself it was just a dream ,nothing to get scared, this and that ,gave me some strength to sleep again. But my sleep was short lived and the nightmare struck again. It was like continuing a horror movie after an  intermission. There was a guy with no face ,grabbed me by neck with both his hand .He wanted to take me to his place and could be done only after killing me first. I was deprived of any strength and my body was paralyzed.i tried to shout out loud for help but I was dumb. All I was able to do was chant 'oma hum"by heart .I was grabbing every opportunity to scream,that fight lasted for about 20 minutes. All of sudden  he released his hand and I unleashed my  restrained voice at once. That was a crazy experience, my brother who was sleeping in adjoining room heard me and came running for rescue. This might mare was the longest horror movie In which I played a major role fighting for escape. 

Wednesday, 15 April 2015

football and me.

I am not a very good footballer, yet I have an avid enthusiasm in this game. I do watch international soccer matches but not as sincere as many friends of mine do. My choices are random and I don't have any club in particular as my favourite. I lack indepth information on the team profile of any club, limited to Messi roanaldo and dimaria. 

Football is the only recreation we engage after our hectic classes all day long. However our college has only one pitch and in it all games are played at a time. It's annoying moment when cricketers interfere our game in attempt to catch their ball similarly our balls entering their. Furthermore soccer has its own drawbacks, occasionally subjected to injuries and accident.  My knees have been scraped and toes stubbed lot of times. But football is a game of compromise, inconvenience can't deter our passion .

Many of my colleagues are passionate footballer and wannabe star , thereby are  serious of the game we play. Often we hotup and land up into minor brawl, but this are trivial reason and cannot serve as pretext to avert our common interest. 

I am mediocre player, lacking extraordinary skills. It's way amusing when we get a pass but the ball get  through our leg without beibg touched. No point to get abashed ,rather aspire to improve more. As of  late I can breath the air of improvement , it's an  overwhelming moments to notice ourselves improving little  by little. 

Sunday, 5 April 2015

my standpoint on horticulture in Bhutan.

In the quest towards making our country hundred percent agrarian and fulfillment of our mission of self-reliance, the role of horticulture is apparent. The art of growing vegetable and fruits in addition to agricultural produce have been incorporated in the minds of our farmers and despite into conventional practice we have been enjoying bounty harvest and fruition. But those were times when our population was less and our agricultural produce adequate. Suppose a plot of land was cultivated with turnip, it was able to suffice for a year virtually. The vegetables and their leaves, namely spinach, leaves of turnips were sun dried and stored for the cold unproductive winters. In fact our farm produce were exported to Tibet and some parts of India as well. But truth be told, now owing to increase in population and rapid urbanization things have changed .with some of our fertile and arable land already occupied for town and massive developmental activities we are at risk. Moreover the modern malady of rural urban migration pose another threat towards making our self-reliance dreams come true.

Its good to know that we are emphasizing not only in becoming agrarian nation but as well organic. Bhutan is doing pretty well in production of horticultural produces namely oranges, cardamom, apples, and vegetables like potato chilies etc. Hitherto these commodities have generated lots of income to the farmer and nation as whole. However considering our conducive climatic zones, the production is far cry lesser. May be because our  emphasis is way limited on certain cash crops like potatoes and oranges. Fruits like pear, peach, plums are not grown on large scale. Unlike other cash crops these produces do not have proper market for income generation, meanwhile depriving their interest in its production. Perhaps our government should focus on providing platform for the farmers like making peach and plum based confectionery, wine factory etc. so as to boost their enthusiasm in its production. Similarly effort should be given in encouraging our farmers to grow other prominent fruits stuffs like mango, papaya, water melon etc.

The importance of horticulture in Bhutan is still viewed less than it is supposed to be. Our focus is solely on agricultural crops like rice, other cereals and very limited on horticultural crops. As well the exploration of myriad wild, forest products like ferns, mushroom, orchids are lacking. Given our farmers having profound knowledge on diverse forest products, it is apparent that this can be wisely assimilated in domestication and production at home. A good example can be Sikkim, they have successfully spearheaded the large scale production of orchids and various other forest products. If implemented, we will also have a major breakthrough in the fields of agriculture and forestry combined. Likewise cultivation of fungi such as oyster, button etc should be taken into consideration. Role of forestry is equally important as agriculture and horticulture aspects, in fact these things should pace hand in hand forward.

When it comes to the farming technique and methodology, virtually we are still following conventional ideas. Although power tiller and some other machines are being used but by and large farmers are not aware of the latest scientific approach. Starting from the way we sow seed and till the harvest time, the scientific knowledge plays a crucial role. Its bitter truth that our farmers while harvesting, are way careless, inflicting damages upon fruits and trees, careless transport and lack of proper post-harvest management knowledge, altogether pose a threat in our market scenario.
Some serious threats to crops are wild animals and the various crop diseases. The latter if not acted firmly from early stage, can bring a catastrophic loss altogether. Infestation can be curbed primarily through use of chemicals, but it’s not in line with our mission for organic approach, so we should be by now fully aware of bio-pesticide and make do of bio agent readily available. One elite solution would be to grow disease resistant crops, help to keep every threat at bay. Even the wild animals bring a considerable loss to the farmer every year, Government should assist our farmers in confronting these frequented problems.

On the whole horticulture in Bhutan is still a young prospect, craving for more attention and nationwide interest. The production of various horticultural crops should be increased by heaps. To achieve this goal, various innovative measures can be taken into account. Leasing land for privative companies, providing both financial and material support to the poor farmers and encouraging orchard management ideologies so on. Frantic effort should be given on providing a perfect market for profitable trade and income generation to the farmers. However in view of increasing the production, the health and qualities of our soil and plants must not be compromised. we should venture organically ,healthily and adequately.

Salute to the government, bestowing privilege to pursue degree in horticulture and agriculture .As of now, many have already completed their courses and are rendering selfless service in our country. Being one amongst many others getting this prestigious scholarship, it’s a pride and gratifying experience. With still one more year remaining for my graduation in horticulture, I envisage to work tirelessly in fulfilling our country’s mission of self- reliance in my own small way possible. 

Monday, 30 March 2015

kite runner. .khaled Hosseini

Amir and hassan are two kids who preface the novel by flying kite. Hassan is hazara which is an ethnic tribe in Afghanistan. By and large the hazards were considered low and had downlooked status in the diverse afghan hierarchy. Hassan stays  with his dad ali (later reveals that he ain't hasssans bilogical dad.) And works for Mr. Baba. amirs dad. 

Amir is way introvert and often depicts coward nature. For instance when hassan is bullied by assef and his gang ,Amir simply watch and averts his support. But in contrast ,hassan recues amir all the while  in any dire  circumstances. Sad part is Amir himself struggles to gets his father's full attention which appered to be way equally divided with hassan too.

After the outbreak of war and the taliban austerity things change. There massive diaspora towards Pakistan. Life in kabul becomes another living hell. Amir and baba somehow manage an escape and later after chains of hurdles finally go USA. His baba expires ,survived by amir and newly married wife soroya. 

Fateful wind blows and  swirl another storm.  Rahim khan who is his confidante and friend calls him to Pakistan and reveal a startling secret about his dad. His dad had an affair with his  servants wife and bore her  a son, who was the hassan. Hassan and amir were half brothers. 

Inside  Afghanistan the worst outraged ,hassan is shot death like any other innocent victims.  Devilish taliban ruled the town and tyranny assumed shape with guns at their hand. Rape ,murder,torture and in name of God ,inhuman crimes were commited. Many children were orphaned and even these kids were abused mentally and physically. Amid all this turmoil, amir muster his courage and drive into kabul the seemingly death trap.

As adviced by Rahim ,he enters kabul to witness all the worst he heard on news often by far worser. His mission is to bring his lately discovered nephew who is in an orphanage. With God's blessing he and the boy manages to escape to Pakistan although he gets badly injured . Happiness shed it's light on them, he recuperates from injury and he fly back to USA with his nephew. .

Friday, 13 March 2015

Far from the madding crowd.Hardy.

'The tess of d'urvilles' by Thomas hardy was so nice that evoked me to devour his other writing as well. In this quest ,I was searching in flip kart website while came upon his book far "from the madding crowd "though incidentally.  The story narrated in this novel is very heart catching and especially the myriad scenario described are amazing.

Here too the main character is a women named bathesheva. she is depicted as very head strong girl and very beautiful at large. It's her beauty, which brings a thick and thin circumstances and as it cast a spell upon the men in weatherboard village.Boldwood ,oak and troy are the men who fell under her spell,their infatuation triggers a  wave of emotions in the novel. However she cannot reciprocate, to all of them and neither she has the courage to decline. She keep postponing and ultimately she pays a price.
Towards the end ,the story becomes tragic after the death of mr troy. He is shot dead by boldwood in his fit of anguish and jealousy that lured him since long. Even the Mr oak ,unrequited by bathsheba and after loosing all his wealth, sacrifice his life working under her. His frantic patience, and sincerity and fidgety in his work gets rewarded .eventually she falls in love with him and gets married. 

Monday, 23 February 2015

A ruthless butcher

There lived a ruthless butcher, who enjoyed killing as much as any other leisure games. He slaughtered myriad lives in a single day. His stony heart lacked mercy and  knew nothing about love or compassion. 

One fine day he decided to slaughter a goat. He dragged one big fat goat from the pen and tethered it on a pole. Meanwhile he was sharpening his blade just in the proximity of the goat. Then and there he felt strong urinous sensation, as if his bladder would  come bursting out.  Readily rushed  for the  latrine leaving his knife and belongings  there itself. 

The scared goat bleated helplessly. His cries in vain and as well butcher payed no heed to his cries. Later he came out from the latrine and resorted  to resume his work.  He noticed that his knife was missing,couldn't be seen anywhere nearby. He searched  about every where but to no avail . Eventually went near the poor goat and searched anew. Priorly he was sitting on mattress  while sharpening his blade. So he checked beneath it with little hop of finding there. To utter surprise,his knife was concealed beneath it and way carefully hidden from his view. 

In his proximity,no people arrived and was convinced.  The goat was kneeling and his bleating fainter, due to his prior bleating whole day long. In its eyes  tears and fear resided. The goat  kneeled as if please-dont-kill-me postion begging for his mercy. The butcher went numb and tears filled his eyes. His heart ached acutely,which he hardly felt till  then. Instead of proceeding further, he broke down and cried. He realized that  the goat  concealed his knife,like human they feared  death and longed for happiness.

Thereafter he became a good man, he stopped killing altogether.  Rather he liberated enormous  animals from the hand of many other butchers. He developed deep respect and filiality towards people and sentient beings. Liberation of furthermore animals brought himself bliss and bestowed with logitivity blessing. He lived for many years and his work left a legacy in the art of peace,love and compassion. 

Friday, 20 February 2015

insight phrases. ..

Only if willing to give extra effort for every ordinary things, result achieved will be extraordinary. 

Thursday, 19 February 2015

local fish on the dinner table for losar. .

Today otherwise would have been a great fun to celebrate losar, but our college is in full swing and I have to attend classes. Losar ,the new year in the Bhutanese and Tibetan calendar, depicts the end of all yester year of sorrows ,the hardships and  all in all it is the end of prior year and opening  door anew for a totally different year.  
When I was a kid ,this same losar was welcomed heartily and the celebration was way abundant. We have good shower and parents give go ahead signal to wear our new clothes in pile. Food are lavish and  the menu diverse. Picnicking was flagship from  among the days  awaited program. It offers a quality time for family to gather and excursion along the river banks , in the woods and admid various oasis are always breathtaking moment. The air of the day are filled with songs and graced with dances.  We celebrate as if it's our last day to live. 

22 years from then, we mark the losar on same time but in different manner. The list program on the day of losar seemingly contrast. Wearing new clothes ,gho and kira, are not of much concern. Though  games like archery and dart make the day lively but the spectators are restricted to men. So there is less  charm in watching archery given its played everyday. As well the risk of compound bow are seemingly witnessed. Foods are by and large all fast food products and junks stuffs. Porridge is seldom prepared , subsituated by pizzas and burgers or some big fat dumpling. Very good picnic spots are limited, one available are crowded. Altogether the losar celebration has undergone a change along with the paced modern times. 

Classes has made my losar like any  other usual day. No porridge lest I would have been late for morning lecture. No dance and no singing. However I am thinking of a special menu for dinner, perhaps chicken or some local fish . I have some dry chillies in reserve, may be it will provide  a good combo for the delicious fish. Well I hop everyone also have a good time ahead for the losar. 

Friday, 13 February 2015

The sun has sunken in the west
It's golden rays dusted about the clouds.
The air is still and the sky too.
Kites of all colours soar in the air
Like a diamond they dazzle .
Flying with pride and glory,
Flying against the abrupt winds.

On the ground are the kids
Seeking the solace from those flying gems.
Each giving their best to keep them afloat.
A roll of string in their hand,
Bonding them  with the kite.
Bond of  enthusiasm, hops and passion,
Enthusiasm to control the kite
Hoping to fly higher then the rest.

Till the golden sky turn black
And evening star peek from from behind curtain,
These dragons soar in the sky.
They sail higher until they break loose
Vanishing beyond eye reach.
Perhaps they headed towards heaven
Or fallen on angels lap somewhere afar.

Wednesday, 11 February 2015

shopping in jaigon.

Shopping in jaigon is not as enjoyable as people talk about.. Bhutanese people are haunted by the aspect that price of the commodities are far cheaper in jaigon and has incited a shopping spree in them. But in reality things are otherwise. The system of bargaining I have encountered is mere a jest, needless to say it’s more of cheating and looting the customers. For instance, I ventured into a cloth shop, there was one t-shirt that caught my attention. I asked for the price and straight away he said, “it cost nu.1000, but will /give you some discount, take it at 990”. Whoa! the discount he offered wasn’t at all impressive. That by saying doesn’t mean I want him to run into lost by selling to me at very low price. I didn’t want to bargain and came out, meanwhile he said me not to go and asked my wish price. it was expensive I said and came out of the shop. Then he called me , “ take it at 500”, I turned deaf ear, and proceeded apace, to utter surprise he said to take it at 200. Off course I went and purchased at 200 . In retrospect , we Bhutanese are every day fooled by the indian shopkeepers, to me it was charged nu.1000 but to someone innocent he would have charged 2000 or more.

Almost all shops in jaigon has incorporated this habit. Off course there should be bargain system but things should go in a holistic manner. Shopkeepers in in jaigon sell commodity at their will price. MRP are not taken into account, let alone to consider selling at fixed price. these incidents have incited me to think twice before I purchase a commodity. But irony is if any few shopkeepers are selling at an honest price, it will be dubious as well.  

Friday, 30 January 2015

inside the hospital

I came to assist  my cousin brother for a medical checkup.  Thimphu hospital  is very huge and large number of people  going about their works.  The building stinks like a hell, the air is heavy with intoxicating  drugs. Massive number of patients  are worst for my head .  Things otherwise would have been easier if I came early. But it's noon and the queue   is freaking  long. My token number is  103, literally  it means I have to wait and watch hundred and two people  enter and exit the chamber. My turn will be due only in about  three  hours from now. I am already  running  out of  patience and might even succumb to sickness.

We were in line ,some people came and called on doctor with no comply to token procedure. They came late but their consultation was given first preference. We came punctually and had to wait. It was a big irony, but none payed heed . When  our turn came, 4 hours has  already elapsed. It was a test of patience pushing us to limit.

Winter is very harsh, the cold sinks in our bones. The sun rays are faint and no match to the freezing air. The visit to hospital  came to end ,meanwhile the sun was sinking behind  the tall mountains. With my hands in pocket and  face shawled headed homeward.

Saturday, 24 January 2015

Rough translation. .

From the Crystal White clay bowl
inscribed with  eight  lucky signs
Unless the bowl itself shatters,
So will the signs remain intact.

Happy that fate brought  us together
With the merrily bestowed lover
Prayers for inseparable bond of love
Written in the pages within my heart
Are  the lines of love,care and affection.

It's time Bhutan should be proactive towards waste management.

We are fortunate to embrace the happiness and comfort  brought about by the rapid developmental activities, however at the same time we cannot ignore the deleterious  impact  of such activities. Various problem  evolve due to reckless mining and road infrastructures. By and large it's the the  problem of waste that demands more attention. Massive amount of garbage from individual  household, industries  at large, municipal waste etc wreaks havoc in the environment. 
The garbage  includes  all plastics, diused metal, infrastructure debris, etc.which are categorised under non biodegradable. Where as waste from kitchen, food processing  industries, etc falls under biodegradable category.  Either of any two have deleterious  affect  on our environment. 

Enormous amount of waste are produced  from the municipality and big towns like thimphu  ,phuntsholing etc . Thimphu city alone is said to generate  metric tones of waste in a single day. The only available  land fill is at memilakha and it's at the verge of becoming full. Apparently  it's just a matter of time ,one day when memilakha  gets full ,it will take a massive toll on us. Much the same every other  places face the challenge  of waste management. There is big void amid  the management  policy and as well the genuine  initiative  and concern from all the people. 

In Bhutan people take things for granted. We think it's the sheer responsibility of city cooperation to take care of the waste . In a way it is the lack of attitude  and cooperation from the people ,which hinders the success of waste management. Only sizeable number of houses do the segregation of plastic /non plastic. As well its lack of awareness and civility in the mindset of Bhutansese  citizen. 
It's quite pathetic when a VIP traveling by a BMW,recklessly throws out their waste on the road. 

Bhutan is  comparatively far cleaner and greener, perhaps this can be attributed  to lesser population. But now the situation is otherwise. More people and more waste , rapid development and massive unwanted stuffs. Unless we change our mentality ,the sheer roleplay  of city cooperation would be a despair. 

But apparently  things ain't out of control. Though we are all but late still  lots of things can be done to avoid a biggest catrastrophy in the times to come. We should be proactive and concerned as to where our own disposal goes into. We should emphasise more on holistic approach by way of recycle,reuse principle. Zero tolerance to litter and necessary  measures to curb the careless attitude of people. Unless we consolidate our contribution and mindset together as one ,Bhutan is susceptible  to a great risk  of waste disaster. 

Friday, 16 January 2015

She made me penlop. .

Time back in the school days
I got a crush on a senior  student.
She was beautiful  undoubtedly
She was everyone's cynosure.
A girl of few words and lips almost mute
harbour a nectar of  inconsistent smiles.
I was smitten, badly smitten
By her beauty so enchanting.
Entered  my dreams and thoughts
Instilled a strong tides of emotions.
The tides of feeling ebbed and flow.

But not every flower blooms
So was  my chemistry with her.
She learnt to steal my heart
But she failed to give it back.
Love gave courage  and the strength too
It veiled  my face of shyness.
I lost the  patience  and took a step bold
Spearheaded  the new venture into love.
I dreaded  to propose  her but I did somehow.
Aftermath was terrible,anticipation
Premonition, and fear
A fear of an unrequited  love.
Days later I got a response from her
But she didn't  reciprocate my love.
she conferred me the  red scarf of poenlop.

It pang my heart  and despair
A first love and an unrequited  one.
But on her lips smile still lingered.
Deception hidden In  her smiles.
A smile that would not belong to me.

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

an unexpected reward...

Somebody careless just happened to dump a paper  on the open road in the heart of a town. Nobody dared to pickup and dump in a proper  dustbin. Few young guys  stepped  over and went . The reckless  driver turned a blind eye  onto it. Everyone ignored that paper and due to wind it flew afloat. The town  was itself dirty,as people  failed  to manage  their  waste, rubbish didn't go inside the dustbin  but lay about them. Not a single person displayed any courtesy  to pick up  the waste and put in a pit. As of the small paper ,still remained  floating  from one road to another.

One day a young lad came to town from a  village . He was very concerned  about the environment  and condemned  any sort of pollution. At least, he took care of his own waste making sure it was  rightly  dumped. That day he went about with his shopping work,.buying and bargaining  stuffs to take home. On the way he saw the same paper that was ignored by the society.  He saw from distance aloof. He picked up the paper wanting to put in a dustbin. There was no place to discard the waste and he took with him. On the way he glanced at the small paper, he went speechless.  He shed the tears of happiness. He was  rewarded  for his priceless effort. The paper  was no ordinary. A big signature  was clear at the bottom, and all he had to do was fill in the amount on a blank check. He soon became filthy  rich, and still continued his good will service to the environment.

Oh god ..I don't believe you anymore. ....!!!!!!

I believe  in God very much. I aways pray and devote to his will. I comply   by his philosophy  and dogmas. Though I don't wear robes of a celibate monks  but inwardly  I follow the teachings and words of the gods. I strongly  condemn  killing of animals, I don't steal, I hate lies,so forth.
By and large  I have always been a fateful  disciple  of you in my own possible  way. I believe  you are omnipotent,and omnipresent likewise.
I never hesitated  to wake up betimes  and do the altar offerings. Never forgot to grace you before I eat myself anything. I prayed day and night alike.

Holy Buddha ,u  ought to have two divine  powers viz. Omnipresent  and omnipotent. But where were you  when I needed  you the most. You know yesterday  was very important  and urgent day for me. I am  supposed  to reach thimphu, because time was running  shot and my documents  need to reach the very day. If I failed ,you know it's repercussions as well. But can't comprehend  why that day was fruitless. Why did the bus leave me behind? regardless of my hasty preparation. Conceded to worst  when I didn't get a single cab let alone  a lucky lift.

You are not  paying  heed to my prayers, in the first place  bus left me deliberately,I had to  bear the loss of ticket. Secondly not a single  car took me, and my official  works were doomed.  Now I am convinced  I am dismissed  for studying abroad. okay not big deal, I will reciprocate . I am deterred, I can't believe  you wholeheartedly and  I feel sorry for that. I don't mind to the extend of apostatizing my religious beliefs. ..oh god you are blind.!!!!

Karma  updated this in her blogging site and was dejected awfully. 3 days  after that incident,she was listening  to radio.  The news broke,she listened  with all ears. She felt the greatest shock of her at a time. She heard that the bus she missed went several metres off road  at dochula  killing all passenger  on board. She couldn't utter a word and she cried.  With fingers crossed she sought for forgiveness. She realised  her life was more important  than the studies  abroad. ...

Friday, 9 January 2015

reflection from an office galss window..

When ever I go  to phuntsholing town afoot, I pass by the PNBoffice. The office has very big windows of sheer glass which bares outside bypasser to see inside in contrast inside people can see outside. The interesting feature is the windows  ability to reflect our image.
It gives an overwhelming  feeling to see our image reflected like from a high definition movie screen. Every time I pass the office I gaze upon those glasses and do some prompt makeup, making sure I don't draw attention  of premises.  adjust my pants shirts and raise  my hair into spikes afresh. I often saw many  people doing likewise,checking their heel, haistyles and some confident lads even  take time in comparing there size,height and makeup  anew.

Those  glasses  are way motivating.  Because  even the mirror  in my room can't display such image quality. When I see myself handsomely on the glass,it abounds my selfesteem. But it's kinda  funny also, since inside the building there are offices and apparently  many people  going about with banking works. So chances that I may be centre of attention for them.

Well anybody who comes to phuntshloing  should perhaps pass via  PNB too. You will experience  a difference. ...

Wednesday, 7 January 2015

Someone lost and I found it.

Hi darling
I miss you so much.  I always think about you . Every day and night I see you in my dreams and I feel obsessed. I  can't curb the desire to embrace you every time,but with you not around things are turning hard for me. Life seems bitter, everything is a source of sadness, society looks unhappy and even the air is sick.

I am craving to see you but miles of distance separate  us. I know you will come back ,yet I can't abstain  from thinking  about you. I think I have gone mad, but I like being mad for you. I can live and I can die in your arms. If only I have the chance to think about you, I will not give a damn to the world.

Days are long  and even the nights too. Insomnia sucked up my sleep. I am a young heart in infatuation. I think more than I am supposed to be. I wonder what my colleagues may think about me. They will think I am weird, or they will think am crazy.  But  I feel i am both. Absence and the silence escalate my emotions. I miss you more and I keep loving you more.
I love you ...please come back soon.
With love

This was a small chit I found on the road while I was taking an evening walk.  The  letter was hand written and was crumbled by passing vehicles. At first I thought it was some page from book that were thorn aloof. But my thorough  reading brought  me into those undying sentences.

Even today I wonder who was karma ?and to whom he or she was writing to? Since the letter did not mention to whom it was written(started as  hi darling). as well  the ending too do not revel any clues. But here it still dwells in between the  leaves  of my book.
Poor love struck guy might have written to a lover and it got  lost before reaching him.

Monday, 5 January 2015

I Don't want to be fat.

Though I am not  much conscious about of my looks and dressing Conduct but when I last checked  my weight  it has increased  by heaps. I normally  use to weigh  52 kg  and now became  64kg. What the heck is happening? I can't fathom.

 My diet  ain't heavy, in fact after reaching  college  I didn't  get chance  to relish  even bones  let alone other meat products. Dry beefs  (shakam) is always a luxury. Because in the first  place our college is located in Hindu and Muslim dominated area.  What Hindu consumes  are forbid by Muslim  and vice versa. Cow is god for Hindu  and are worshipped. In.a nut shell,  chicken is the only alternative. I dismiss mutton and buffalo  meat,because I have never eaten hitherto.

well  what makes me more heavy now? I feel anxious  when my friends  tell that my stomach  is swelling.  I can feel that as well. I have  a prognostication as to how I may look after few more years from now. What if my belly  swells like a 8  months pregnant woman, what if my face become big  as if stung by thousand bee. Will the girls reject me if I assume  such obsolete  physique. What ever I don't want to be fat it's my wish.

 I can't go for dieting,else I may die of anorexia and worst I am ulcer patient.i can't even  play more as my health forbids. I should  do something lest my weight may keep adding. Oh god!I want to be as I am,tall and thin .

Thursday, 1 January 2015

Tess of D.Urvillies. by Thomas Hardy.

It's one of the most sentimental novel i have read so far.  Lots of twist and turn and the main protagonist  viz.Tess actually  undergoes  lot of hurdles and seems to have a major breakthrough  but again in despair.  The plot  start anew  and her a suffering as well.
The main tragedy is triggerd when she incited by her parents try to seek kinship in a Stoke D.urvillies. Because  she was  descended from a very noble  family. Do. Urvillies but vanished in between. She gets ravished by Alec.  and gives birth to who dies in infancy installing  an unbearable pain.
All she does is escape that house and find shelter somewhere. She then meets with John. He appears in her life as blessing in disguise  but the downfall begins when she confess her old stories  with Alec to him.john is infatuated  over her yet  he tries  to create distance  by going to brasil. But their intimacy  is not broken due to their timely letter exchange.
Meanwhile when in his absence  Alec comes and take her hand, after the demise  of her dad he comes as helpful to them.
But she inwardly  still  love John and as well her bitter experience  of past with Alec had left a deep scar  within.

Things turn crazy when John  comes from brasil and come searching for her. But she at first  confess being  married to the same Alec in his absence. He goes aloof but heaven go insane  and she kills Alec. Run away with him .
But her escape  is shortlived,police catches  her and she pays for her crime.
The ending is complicated and full of suspense because  author actually  describes the scenario  and do not  directly  say about  her death. She is hanged and the John lives  with tess  sister. As it was her dying wish. ...