Translation of folksongs

On the hem of the sky and clouds,
An endearing pearl of sun.
Without the evil clutch of eclipses,
Abounds with joy and Happiness.

On the hem of a peak and snow linings,
The magnificent Mystical snow lion .
Without the harshness of blizzards,
Abounds with joy and happiness.

On the hem of pasture and brook,
The amazingly beautiful deer.
Without the enmity of the hounds,
Abounds with joy and Happiness

an orphan

An orphanage is not visible on her face to know her inner plight.

I was with some of my colleagues chatting over a cup of tea in the shop. It was silent except for few customer at the other end engrossed in their chat as well. Abruptly, I heard a child wail that created a slight commotion outside . 

Tempted, craned my neck toward the window and observed what was happening. A small girl was being reprimanded by a woman whom I suppose was her mom. The woman seems to have lost all her nerves and she was looking fearsome. She smacked the girl two or three times on her back and the girl started to sob. Head drooped low,she wiped her tears with the end of her sleeves.The woman commanded her to go to house at once. Submissively she left the spot.

I have seen the kid few times around,sometimes playing with friends and other ocassion playing with the dogs. Although,something about her look did evoke some instinct within me . Perhaps a sense of curiosity or otherwise i being judgemental that I cannot really conclude. 

She has a small eyes. Although my eyes are also no bigger but her seems to be unusually smaller. I heard people calling her with nickname,"Musa" which translates to rat .Her skin is dark and she has hair cut short in a distinct mushroom style ,which were just above her eyelids. Her height is small. 

Well,that incident outside the canteen actually landed us talking about her. What I heard from the shopkeeper actually sank my stomach. I came to know that the woman who was venting her wrath the moment ago was not her mom. She was just her relative.

In a tragic event she lost both her parent's . Father passed away due to an electrocution while doing power maintenance work. Shortly after ,her mom also kicked the bucket due to some ailment. It's is assumed to be associated with alcohol as both her parent's were a heavy drinker. She is supposed to have a brother but hadn't seen even once. People believe that her moms drinking habit and their dishevelled environment has affected her health. They even suspect that she was born premature but it's just a mere speculation.

So , the little dark skinny kid whom people redicule her with nickname 'Musa' is actually an orphan which rather sounds offensive but certainly I lack words to euphemise it.

Atleast if an orphanage is tangible in eyes and skin colour,we would not have to listen to the stories to understand the plight of an orphan. Perhaps I was preconceived that an orphan child is one who will be after cows playing his flute all day long or the one who extensively play chuckstone with pebbles all day long. For now she looks merry and playful,mingling with other kids, virtually ignorant/innocent about the absence of her parent's. But few years down the line ,I can feel how it would pang her hearts to be called Musa or she would get matured enough to feel the deep void left by her lovely parent's. Perhaps she would have miss them no matter how alcoholic they might have been.

A thief

I was driving alone from Tphu to Pling . On the way a man carrying backpack hailed at my car for a lift . The weather looks overcasted and brimmed with rain that would explode anytime. I pulled over My car to accommodate him,beside I thought it would be a good past time to have a company for conversation along. Usually I travel atleast with one company,child or elder because it would keep me alert and awake. I have heard lot of horrifying accidents about an exhausted driver or simply falling asleep while driving.

I unlocked the door on the back seat and gestured him to hop in. He looked overwhelmed and reliefed.

Thus the journey continued. He was a farmer and was also heading to Pling to see his pregnant daughter who has just delivered her baby the other night. He was pretty anxious and excited to hear the news. He was a decent talker and humble in manner.

We conversed on so many things. They were from humble background,his daughter worked as a waitress in one of hotel in Pling . Three children total,one was a police and other driver . Conversation ensued Until we reached pling city . He got down in the town and acknowledged me wholeheartedly. I saw smiles and happiness on his face .

Myself I steered toward the paradise lodge. By then it was almost sunset, the distinct golden sky line in the plains appeared in the backdrop. Some crows were making their evening flight. Meanwhile I took my luggage and checked in the hotel. I reached for my pocket to get the wallet and clear the bills. To utter dismay my wallet was missing. I must have left in the car,usually I keep things in the backseat along with my laptop and kabneys. I was further alarmed when it was not in the car. I was deeply confused and recalled my day. I was sure I left it in the car on the laptop. Then it clicked, that passenger has got away with my wallet. I couldn't believe my eyes. He lookd so humble and suspicion we out of question. Immediately I made a round in the town trying to spot that man. He was no where and vanished like a thin air .

I was simply deceived by his manner, fallen prey to his trickery. My phone battery was low and got shut down.

Luckily , my credit card was inside my dashboard of the car. I cleared my bills from there. That bastard has finally got away cleanly with my wallet. In the room I recharged my phone and called my mom. She was furious at the end for not calling her. She said "how can you afford to forget your wallet here,how you are expensing your stay there?". I just rembered that passenger,his humble smiles and his manner. Maybe holding his granddaughterin his arms.

An old vendor by the road side.

There is a small makeshift hut beside the road on my way to the office. It's structure by standard doesnt even come close to be called as a decent kiosk. It's slightly raised above the ground ,to avoid flooding during heavy rain. The roof is made out of a tin that is used as drum for storing bitumen meant for road blacktopping. It has become rusty and filled with leaks.

Every day ,an old woman would come and sit in that hut for an entire day to sell her things. She come very early in the morning and retires to home before the sun set. She would always come with cane basket,Which is just partially filled and would display her sales in the tiny space as close to her lap. There would be few vegetables, fruits,some dairy products and few collections of sweets and supari .

I wonder ,does passerby even give her an attention let alone buying her things. Whether or not if there are buyers ,she is always present there in her small hut rain or shine. Often I see her sealing the roof leak with a plastic. When it's sunny, she would be seen fanning herself with a piece of paper. Some times when I pass by her ,she would hawk me to buy some cucumber or cheese. I hardly bought because I usually do all my buying from a particular shop with whom I am acquainted closely.

When I return from the office,it seems it is her time too to retire for the day. I see her loading her stuffs and gearing up home bound. Although not sure,I observed that the size of her basket looks the same as I have seen in the morning. Maybe i am wrong but if what I saw is true then apparently nobody seems to have bought anything from her.

It did not occur to me Until one evening . I was lying supine on the carpet ,right under fan. Prior to going home, I wanted to buy some local cheese but couldn't find one from anywhere. So I came along to check out at the old granny's hut. But to dismay she wasn't there either. She left for home quite earlier than her usual time. I saw few papers rain soaked and scattered on ground. She use papers for wrapping doma and sweets for kids.

Now it's been a week,the old granny did not show there. Only her deserted hut stand there ,sometimes a mange dog is spotted taking refuge there from the rain. In the evening,the hut looks ghastly and desolate. The cars on the road are plying as usual,few kids are gleefully running home bound. Everything seems to be normal except her hut. Every time I take time in looking at that spot to check if she has returned. But it's been a week and still the hut is empty. Perhaps the old granny has succumb to an illness,bed ridden or in worst case she might have just left the world. On many account I have noticed her persistent cough ,way distractedly.

I just feel I owe her something although in real I don't. May be because i ruefully never bought anything from her. I can imagine her struggling to make her ends meet. Perhaps next time I see her again I will have to buy her local cheese balls. Meanwhile I can simply count the days to settle my mental overdue with the old granny but I doubt if she will appear again.

Cinderella

The road is fresh and wet with rain,
While the car barrels like a bullet train.
Out of blue the sky pours down again,
On the road trying to hide but in vain.

The fields alongside are lush with paddy,
Beautiful are those transplanting ladies.
Thunders rumble, the sky darkens ,
I open my parasol , yet i feel shaken.

Ahead of me a lady is walking quick,
Bare under the rain she look wet and slick.
Hairs long and the jeans tight, sandals red,
Ratatat of those sandals , slip into my head.

I wish she turn her back , so I see her face,
Atleast I hasten my steps ,so catch her apace.
From under my blue colored umbrella,
She looks troubled like a poor drenched Cinderella.

A Car comes pass me and pull over near her,
I watch as she hop- in to vanish like thin air.
Over the bent on the road afar,
He gets away with a Cinderella in his car.

Youth into farming

Over the years it has become increasingly difficult to get a decent job despite qualification.  Unemployment rate is shooting up and it will seemingly continue. The simplest logic is that our country is small and the population is ever magnifying. So we cannot simply go on blaming gov for the lack of jobs, instead it's time we look for greener pastures elsewhere , not necessarily in the gov or private service's.
Farming in today's world is way stigmatised, and more of younger generation displaying indifferent attitude towards it. That said, there are people with qualified background, renouncing even  their job and taking up such venture .There are people willing to push against the odds and accomplish big dreams.

It would be unfair to say  that gov jobs simply warrant our survival . There thriving and prospering in gov service is bleak. In fact to get the facts straight there are  civil servants who struggle even  to make their ends meet.  High rent, living standards, expensive things , etc. These  factors attribute to the ever difficulty working in the Urban area's. Well that said  life doenst stop here. There are silver linings to catch in so many other endeavours.

Today it's more about making money and thriving in the current world. It's about entrepreneurship, it's business and it's about service. Amidst this whirlpool of venture, an agriculture and farming as means for income and prosperity has accentuated like never before. Given the significance of farming in contributing to our national goals of self sufficiency, it has unfurled a wide scope for youths to embark upon .

 But farming is easier said than done. That's the fact. It's not simply about spades and soil- digging work. Today, its more about farm mechanization and Labour saving, given increased Labour shortage. In so doing, we not only reduce dependency on Labour, the work efficiency is enhanced, money saved, higher out put is assured.  Likewise, proper planning, forging good relation with research centres, experienced personnel, exploring information would help in easing the drudgery and optimising the output.

Since farming is a broad phenomenon, there are ample of things to explore and get the best out of it. There are techniques and methodologies, designs, approaches , which if  considered could assure higher return  from the same area of plot. By and large, most of the our landholding is limited , so it's favourable for a farming techniques that could accommodate mixed produces, like fruit, vegetables  spices etc.from the same field. That could be done through, multi -tier system, mixed cropping, inter-cropping so forth. This way we can ensure diversity and reduce risk of crop failure.

All said and done, it is a good sign to see many more educated people inclining towards farming and committed to take it a whole new level. It should serve as an inspiration to so many youths coming up the line. Remember there are millionaires and Entrepreneurs who are simply nothing but a simple farmers... way to go...😍😍😍

Shock

It  was at decehnphu. I had never even dreamt that the day would have such a tremendous impact on my life. The single incident just; turned the tide which was restrained within me . Let me not bit around the bush,  point is I had a cross. I crossed with my intimate a highschool friend. That was just a coincidence but listen Its something more than just a cross. The friend of mine got some company, two girls.; It was that moment which knitted a new episode in my life story.
By nature I am not a quick person but listen I got her number quicker than I anticipated. Again it is nothing surprising because you know I have; put my friend into use. Well,what is the use of having the contact, when I lacked the stomach to call. Few days I scrolled her contact and did not diall ,very effortless. I typed her number and then erased it altogether, I did that many times. Atlast , I besought the help of my friend again. It eased my situation. He has done the introduction, rest was my job.
Things assumed its shape quickly. Our call stretched untill the late night. I could crack jokes and she would burst into laughter. We share same affinity for singing , she has a appealing voice but my own was otherwise. She liked listening to short fable, i would narrate those few I knew. We would walk along the foot path and about the park overlooking the river. We rummaged through carpet of grasses for a lucky leaf. She love flowers , we gathered dandelion ,daffodils , grasses and created small bouquet.
There are more memories than I can remember . I have painted enough colors of moments on the pages of my memory. Our conversation over the phone was always memorable.We spilled all our emotions , feelings, sometimes over silly reasons we get outraged and hot argument ensued . However these issues were short lived, we sprang back to normal just the next day, this was how we lived, our bond became bolder and affection grew stronger.
We wanted to tie knot, she wanted a twins; I wanted a boy.Having said that , we never engaged ourselves physically. Furthest was a kiss inside the theatre,a brisk kiss and nothing more. We were decided to stay away from it untill the marriage. We, wanted to Inform our parents . She was from pemagatshel in the east; her mother stood by her decision and did not object. She did not have  father.
My mom is a simple ,tight-lipped woman, it was  my father who verifies my decision. I told him our affair and how we met. He was delighted to listen to my story and didnt reprove. He asked about her family whereabouts. Her only mother Tshering was from pemagatshel,she didnt have father. After her mom was conceived; father never came back. Mom didnt share details about it.
Heaven forbid!The  girl you are trying to marry is your sister.His eyes became wet and even I could no longer fight back my tears.He said ,"it all happend on a fateful night when i forced my way Into Tsherings hut, on a night hunt. It was my first time and the worst.She became pregnant, I knew it but I was deprived of strength to accept the fact. Meanwhile , my training got over and came to thimphu . It has been 25 years, I promised her but never turned back".

Review- Radio Shangrila by Lisa Napoli

Title- Radio -Shangrila, what i learned in the happiest kingdom on the earth.
Author- Lisa Napoli
Review- it is a non-fiction book , recounting the experience and her memories while as a Radio- journalist in tiny kingdom of Bhutan.
She herself was a radio- journalist in USA.She had a trouble with her life in states and feeling of complete dissatisfaction with her profession and in fact with herself. Dissatisfaction stashed to unhappiness and her desperation to pursue something new to renew her life and emotions.
One-day a stranger came and opened her eyes. He introduced to her about Bhutan the country which she otherwise was hardly aware off.  The short meeting fascinated her and she become tempted to visit Bhutan.
After completing all the procedures , she leaves for Bhutan where she would work as a radio journalist.She describes how everything from nature to architecture, the hospitality and the never failing smile of the Bhutanese people touched her heart from the day one. Although  her first visit was short -lived one , her love and attachment for Bhutan compels her to revisit again. When she visited Bhutan , it was a epoch year for the tiny kingdom. Unprecedented changes were taking place in the country . The godly king of Bhutan was abdicating his throne and new king was being crowned. The country was transforming into democracy ending its century of peaceful monarchy.

After spending pretty time in Bhutan, breathing those mountain air, watching those meandering river , the temple bells. etc she feels her emotions that weighed her down were partly faded into the mist. She goes back to USA, and continues to work in some radio station.

Pic. source-google.

The petals

The leg is devoid of eye,
The flower is devoid of speech.
Beautiful on the tree once,
Fallen and in despair now.
Over her fading petals,
Trods a gleeful boot.
Onto the  road flat,
Lifeless her soul is crushed.
Beneath the monsoon shower,
Red as blood the road is stained.

The spring

The campus look clean,

wet from last nights shower.

The road looks fresh,

amidst the stretch of trees.

In a dazzling hue,

The trees are blossomed.

The veggies beside the road,

Are ripe and near to harvest.

The litchis in the orchard,

red as beetroot in backyard.

Here is the harvest time,

 they are so ripe and prime.

Pluck few and peel few,

Sun is hot and my caps askew. 

Onto the ladder we climb,

Its spring and harvest time. 

Mangoes are getting yellower,

Compared to litchi its slower.

The big fat chinwan,

the red skined irwin.

In few days or sooner,

They will ready for my dinner .

The bus

I was travelling in a city bus. It was cramped with passengers but I was lucky enough to have got a seat. Sitting next to me was an elderly man dressed up shabbily. His hair was partly grey and his teeth were rusty -stained indicating his addiction to doma and tobacco. He blew his nose quite often and coughed a lot.  I assume he made everyone in the bus quite uneasy. Few school goers even whispered lewd remarks in English amongst themselves. However, his presence did not bother me at all. In fact I broke the ice and tried to start conversation with him. I asked about his whereabouts, his health and I even advised him some home remedies to curb his cough. He was glad to get into talk with me and our conversation ensued for the rest of the journey.

From the starting of the journey there was a minor ruckus in the bus and passengers complaining about a foul smell inside the bus. Even I did smell the reek which was somewhat like that of a stool.  Later as the bus moved the smell got intense and people started pulling sleeves to cover their nose. Peculiar thing was, every eye was virtually fixed upon that old man. They suspected he has passed stool in his pants , besides he  looked sick and coughed persistently.  Gradually peoples heart became very bold to even complain directly that the man should be removed from the bus.  I was taken aback and couldn’t say anything. The man was asked to get down from the bus and the man accepted after tough defend for his reserved seat. He was taken down from the bus at one bus –stop.  The bus continued.

I thought the smell would disappear but it did not.  The bad foul still filled the bus and the complain ensued again.  Now everybody in the bus felt guilty about sending the man out of the bus. Eyes were looking at each other as if to accuse someone new.  I too looked in all directions not knowing what was actually happening around.  Suddenly, a child noticed something and said, “mom that uncle has stepped on a stool’ . The statement was enough to raise every eyebrow in the bus. Everyone then asked the boy to get down and catch another bus.  In spite of repeated complains the boy did not budge from his seat.  Later he got down but by then it was already his destination.  The engine rumbled and the bus continued. The bus moved passed by a bend in the road overlooking a rapid flowing river below. The curtains on the window fluttered allowing fresh breeze to slip in. Thus the journey continued.

Lyrics

Touch me not.

Hiding amongst the grasses,
concealed in camouflage.
its leaves green and minute,
its stem hidden beneath the weeds.

Amongst the grasses lush,
She do not want to get touched.
Even a slight brush of touch,
She close her leaves to hide.

She is soft and she is shy,
she is elegant and she is adorable.
When she says touch me not,
 she means what she said.
Amongst the lushes,
she wants us to leave her alone.

Beauty in her eyes,
Strength in her body.
Hidden beneath her beauty,
A lethal thorns for defense.
When she says touch me not,
 she means what she says.

Bonsai

Since childhood days i loved working with plants. During weekends, i would help my dad in potting of flowers, transplanting , manuring etc. Watering was part of my daily chores. My dad  is also a genuine plant lover. He would bring lots of flowers from different places and together we would plant those in empty oil cans and boxes. Those days  flower pots were not that common. My dads enthusiasm with flowers passed down in me almost naturally. Especially i would be fascinated to see different types of flowers, with dazzling petals and leaves. Some times we would go to the border town jaigon to buy flowers and fruits. The border town would always have so many flowers to keep me dazed all the while. There would be yellow roses,white bougainvilleas, short fruits plants with voracious fruits which i did not know it was bonsai that time. 

I was really fascinated one day , when my dad brought a small potted orange with lots or fruits on it. That was in fact first inception of a bonsai picture in my mind. later it was like a blessing in disguise when i got scholarship to pursue my bachelors in horticulture in India. In the course of time, i got exposed to larger concepts of plant science, their nature, art of floriculture  so on. As hinted earlier i was pretty obsessed in art of bonsai. Well, having said that so , i actually never worked on bonsai myself till date. Although i did try to grow few vegetable in plastic bottles, they never came up. Hence it is sort of like i left the bonsai work pending for future take up . 

First thing i did after joining office i started with bonsai work which was a goal that i left pending for very long time. I potted six fruit bonsai , which includes 2 Avocados, 2 litchis, 2 mangoes. Off course i did search a lot of information , technical know-how regarding the care and plantation of bonsai. Today , i have added  a new bonsai plant to the list. Its something amusing , as vegetable bonsai is something not very common. I have prepared two chilli bonsai, one is supposed to have a cascading type structures already. Other  i will have to figure out how to transform it in the coming days. Its definitely going to seek lots of my patience. 

I have updated the photos of my first potting today. The chilli plants are uprooted from the field. i have refuted to grow it from seeds as it will take lots of time to come up. By the way i have forgotten to mention other plants beside those chillies. I have one bougainvillea bonsai, some orchids which are showing up pretty well. There are tiny sprouts at the basal portion of the plants. 

Date- 16/05/17

  

The choice

My days this days remind me of those beautiful anecdotes by ruskin bond elsewhere in shimla. The weather is very erratic like itself. It's a sunny morning and wet afternoon or vice versa . Sometime the rains are light and pleasant whereas sometime it's wreaks havoc as if whole the hell broke loose.
Rain or shine I see those life going undistracted. Those cows tethered on the arecanut trunk, munching lushes under the bursting sky. In the nearby sty in the village, the pigs are silent and asleep. The chickens in the coop too.
The roads are weted afresh. Countless cars ply with wippers in full swing. From the school in the vicinity, kids are outbound for home. Little girls playfully walking the roads, tossing their umbrella and  barely caring to protect themselves from the rain.Now and then they dip their legs in the puddles formed by the rain.

Little do they know that their parents are worried about them. I assume they will have to face the wrath after reaching home. The rain has benefited the vegetables. Cucumbers are growing vigorously and the yield is promising. The beans however do not get along well with that rain. Especially the bush beans are vulnerable to rotting under rainy condition .

Watermelons have become prime and nearing to it's ripeness. Although much has been damaged by fruit flies,there are still decent amount harvestable. Chillies are coming up bit sluggishly. I am bit worried that the onset of monsoon might damage the plants.

As we detect significant number of pests  feeding on the vegetables,Some virtually damaging the whole crop. For example fruitfly puncture the fruits while it's just a peasize and then fruits after attaining considerable size ,rot and become unfit for consumption. This is the junction I feel like am sitting on the fence feeling indecisive. It's about making decision whether to empathize them or kill them . Offourse reluctantly I have to choose the latter one. It's an irony to make killing primary and pushing empathy to the backseat.

The thunder

First a hazy blanket of clouds,
Swirl and twirl as it spreads.
Sparks slice the sky,
Those flashes so nigh.


Sound of the thunder,
Resonates high amongst the beans yonder.
Leaves of the slender nuts,
Twerk in a frightful delight.

THe rain drops heavy,
Big as size of marbles.
Pouring on the roof,
Like a stampede of hooves.

From amidst the lushes,
Workers outbound and rushes.
Against the wall of gate,
Beneath cover of any.
Try and squeeze to hide ,
While the storm still glide.

The thunder

First a hazy blanket of clouds,
Swirl and twirl as it spreads.
Sparks slice the sky,
Those flashes so nigh.


Sound of the thunder,
Resonates high amonst the beans yonder.
Leaves of the slender arecanut,
Twerk in a frightful delight.

THe rain drops heavy,
Big as size of marbles.
Pouring on the roof,
Like a stampede of hooves.

From amidst the lushes,
Workers outbound and rushes.
Against the wall of gate,
Beneath any under cover.
Try and squeeze to hide ,
While the storm still glide.

Poem

Rain in the summer,
Wet the corns afresh.
Amidst the lushes corn,
Stretches a trodden path.

In the centre of the farm,
With beans and veggies around.
My house like a castle,
Amidst the clouds of lushes.

Sparks and thunder afar,
Out of blue the rain drops heavy.
Onto the roof of my house,
Like a tramp of hooves,
Thousand horse are galloped.

Fans are  circling on the ceiling,
Lizards crawling on  the walls.
Inside the blanket here,
I am awaken thinking deep.

Home work

Sometime I feel what I do in the office is all part of a obligatory service am doing because of my profession. Having said that , I do it anyway with zealous mind and enthusiasm because these contribution are aftetall part of a nation building.
I dont just don't confine My activity in the office but bring the ideas with me to my home. Home is the ideal place to find some solace by doing the job that fascinates oneself.
I need to some shed light on my room before I describe about my work . Am staying alone in a very spacious flat. I occupy only one room and rest two bedrooms are absolutely empty. The room have large window allowing adequate lights to get in. Therefore, I have leveraged this faculties and created a tiny indoor garden to grow my delightful plants.

I have deliberately kept the windows without curtain. My plan is to grow whatever I can in this room and recreate a miniature garden. There are flowers, watermelons,cucumber and would multiply the list as and whenever convenient. My plan is to grow vegetables, send climbers along the walls and window frame, all supposedly in a integrated desgin.

To further enhance my plants I have started preparing a compost. Indoor compost made from exclusive kitchen residue with use of EM solution. These compost is supposed to augment my plants with necessary nutrients. On the whole ,my in- house garden would remain exclusively organic.
My objective is to crate a green room with assorted plants. Climbers like slippery gourd, beans, would be allowed to climb freely while flowers and vegetable would occupy the floor. With time I would also like to add bonsai plants to the list.