Sunday, June 28, 2015

Rain of Bliss


After much deprivation,
Rain falls
A shower to clean earth;
Everyone is happy and merry
Everyone shows teeth
They come out to receive the first fall,
To get awash is their fondness.

 As far I could see, is rejoicing,
After the long drought sweltering;
Air-gusted sandy,
Plants wilted the flowers in the buds,
Animals and birds wondered-away,
Dejected pathetic people had calamitous living!

Now, in the rain everyone seems exulted
The rainfalls,
Like a cheerful tears from the eyes.

Leaves dance on the dripping of the rain,
Countable animals expose in the meadows to drench,
 Dancing clouds shroud the valleys,
The dusty earth sprinkle wet
Some say it’s ‘holy grail.’
Well, the rain mop baths,
The place has rejuvenated.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

The Sound of Musing

Silence has internal silence that keeps the soul with so many muses. These muses are sounds of existence; bad or good. Silence with thoughts and speeches without meaning is what animals live.


I am an ear,
My mind’s radar.
I am all ears:
In silence.

The wind has a voice.
It rustles, it whispers,
It is understood,
Speaking of wasteland
Of rivers running clear,
Of myriad darkness revealed.

I hear pleasant songs
Of everything;
Still the world’s
Not so nice for me.
I lie down lonely to sleep.
While walking on
Meadows green,
I fall from vertigo to grief.
Is it the lack of lucre?
No, more want of wit.
Is it the fear of death?
Not at all!! Cheerless faith.

I am an ear,
Auditory organ,
Buffeted by sound,
Touching my thinking.
And this is the life I lead:
Animal existence.

Friday, June 19, 2015

A Heaven in the Soul

The place I live is called heaven;
And they called me the God
Who is the God?
I said, “Everyone is so.”
Unrelieved, they shouted at me
“Who are you?”
“I am just like you.”
To live and to be
To LIVE in the world is different
As every individual is, so.
We live a hell like;
I have no fog in the mind
Not a cog in the machine,
I go for clear and virtuous mind and heart;
a soul of heaven;
A soul to proliferate this.

Monday, June 15, 2015

My House

My house in my village in pemagatshel is almost 60 years old. It singularly stands near a forest in Labar. This is the house where my parents are living, and we all brought up. It is a huge house with three storied stone, wood, mud built. Though there was no iron pillar as such in it, it stood against any kind of natural calamities like earthquake and erosions. Earlier than, the soil erosion tried to erode beside our house many times, but after having built a wall and planted trees; it is now a matter of talk. My father said that it was also struck by earthquake for several times, but not a stone came down. It is as it was before. I like my house. I wonder how my parents could have built a huge and strong house. It must have been very hard work. My father has said to have brought carpenters and workers from Assam. I guess this is his engineering and design as it looks like one of the best Bhutanese houses. Because of this house my father was known to be the wealthiest in the Gewog, and is also known to many people in the Dzongkhag. He was and is. Now I look back at this house with lots of pride and respect. This was and is my house, my temporary house, just like my late brother Sonam; who left this house, I too have to leave…to my permanent house…where? Too sad.

Here are some photos of my house which I clicked last time from my mobile.

Front view

Side view