Sunday, November 2, 2014

Go Wherever You Like


Assorted pieces of poems from my past notebooks.

Go Wherever you Like

Go wherever you like
But you must come back here
Our way is one
Do whatever you please
Take whatever you desire
But you must keep away those
Our way is one
Act like a mountain
Say what you want to all
But you must know at last
Our way is one
And all of these are useless.


Life Taught Me
Love taught me to fly
And to live
Life taught me to cry
And to die
There is nowhere I can hide.


Dream
The poem talks about a dream, the dreams were useless to him when he came to know. Only near his deathbed, he prays that if he has done something good to be born as a good person or not.

As a child I had a dream
To fly in the sky and to travel by train,
Eat in the palatial and
Live like a royal king.

After
I have been in airs
I have been in trains
I have eaten a palace food
And I have lived a king’s life
Now, what I dream is;
And this is not a dream
It’s a reality
Very important.
I pray:
Never to die,
Or good rebirth after the death.


Did you Fall and break your Heart?

Did you fall and break your heart?
Did you cry and hate your life?
Did you live a painful life and get hurt?
Did you think of taking revenge?
Did you have a memory sickness?

But never forget there is love,
And you must prove it through your tears.
Always remember there is hope,
And always remember it is good in love.


Love where you Live

Love where you live.
Have compassion for everything
Love the wall, in front of you
Love the stones, trees, dust, rivers, etc
Then you will love yourself.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

A Dissipated Life-A Story of Love and Sacrifice



A dog chased him out of the school’s gate. The dog growled closed behind him for some time. Latu leaned against a tree and threw a slice of bread. The dog ran after it and munched haughtily. It stayed quiet.
“This dog can become familiar after so many days,” Latu thought.
             
The condition of the day was brutal, and by evening, the wind busted some trees’ branches, some clouds showered heavy rains and the thunder rumbled loud. Latu was alone on his way towards his home. No, not really his house. Before long he was on the track to his actual journey. Yes, to his actual unknown road. The heavy downpour had bathed his body.

There, into an unknown place, Latu felt lost. He climbed on the quivering treetops to see his home’s light. He saw the faint light and it was like miles away. He didn’t know where he was now. He knew only that he was in a deep jungle. This was his first journey himself. His friend, Kagtong was bedridden and couldn’t come to the first day of his school. Since Latu’s father and mother had gone to some kind of training in a foreign land, he was sent to this village for his study. It was only three days since he had arrived from the capital of Bhutan to this village. He was to stay with untidy grandparents in this village. Now, Latu listened and scanned every direction of the jungle. He was scared of ghosts and spooky things in the deep jungle. He was afraid of wild animals. Latu was late today as there was the distribution of textbooks as it was the first day of school. And as he was new, he was given the textbooks at last.

It was already seven in the evening. He ran wildly to where ever his thought took. It was the fastest run he ever made, and before he fell down on the ground with exhaustion, he saw a house in front of him. It was a stone and mud-built with a thatched roof. He wanted to ask whoever in the house to direct him the right way to his home. With a great relief, he went inside the house. He flung open the ajar door and he was greeted by a young girl of his age. She was cooking something. Seeing an uninvited guest she shouted with fright for a second or so. He looked, thirsted, and wished in despondent. Dazzling in stunned startle, he saw that she was a simple looking, a slim, a bunched hair, an utmost level girl but terribly pretty. He succumbed with impassive dumb at this instant.
 Oh God, to be loved by her!’
“Who are you…!” she mumbled.
“I have never seen such a girl in Thimphu,” Latu unknowingly bursted out.
“What!”
The heavy rains suddenly lessened its rains. It drizzled. The pit-a-pat of the rain had become love, a wind of breeze, the thundered was music, and now, everything had become the trance of love and wish. Soon he esteemed that today, tomorrow, the next week, the next month, or someday to be with her. He watched her and his happiness exploded. 
She asked numerous questions, which further made him blank. He looked at her lips and the eyes. They were perfect. An angel had visited a poor home.
“I just wanted to ask you about the way to Memey Dogdola’s house,” Latu quivered.
“Oh, you are a new guy from Thimphu, to study here. Go seven steps down from my house, and you have a straight path towards right.” She beamed.
“Okay, okay, I will come tomorrow,” he said hurriedly as there were some noises outside.             
Latu counted down a few steps gladly when a powerful torchlight from the right side forced him to stand still. His face was now in full light.
 “So when we are away, this is what our daughter has been doing?” a man snubbed.
Guess. It was her father and mother.
“Oh, no, I came here to ask my way to home,” he said promptly.
“Who are you?” a woman voiced it flashing her torchlight on Latu’s face.
“I’m Memey Dogdola’s grandson,” he said and he hurried while they murmured and went inside.

He felt an awful emptiness going home, while the rain beat. He could only hear his heartbeat. Once he reached his home, Latu sat at his desk and pretended to be studying, so he wouldn’t be inquired by his Memey. Inside his mind, nothing had been omitted thinking about that girl.

The next day Latu met her. It was a great surprise that she was there too, in the same school at Nangkor High School, and the same class of nine.
“I didn’t see you the first day,” Latu said in the class.
“Yes, I stayed helping my parents,” her soft gust of breath entered inside his heart.
“I am Latu Tshering, and you?”
“Choden.”

Soon they become a good friend. They shared everything under the sun. Everything was perfect, especially their romance. Their relationship developed a kind of bond that was hard to fall apart. Their days were the shortest and the happiest of their life after they found each other.
This had become his daily routine. Whatever the weather, whatever the troubles in the night, quietly, he went on, and spent his night over her house.

A year or so passed. Having rare discussions about their future, they decided to drop school and get married. The main reasons were that they couldn’t study properly and were detained in the same grade, when school teachers groused about their manners, when their parents frequently reminded them about waste of hard cash.

After a yearlong life of marriage, Choden said like a changed mind.
“My Ajang Karpo asked me to come to Thimphu,” she said.
“For what?”
“To find a job, to be frank, if we stay like this, our life will be ruined in this village. He got me a job.”
“No, how can? You and me, we will start, work and survive through,” Latu sighed.
“I will come and take you after I got a job, maybe a month.”
And this was how she went, leaving not even a time to satisfy how much Latu loved her.

He hated those people who seek to chitchat with her. Jealousy was a crazed love. He noticed in their schoolmate days. Now, she had gone away-very far. What the shittiest way she would be living?

To pour his desperation, Latu gained the guts to write a letter every day, He wrote awfully letters about erstwhile languished, cheered her up to no end. He told everything, gave heart and soul. He wrote how she broke his heart into pieces when she left him. He wrote all hope of seeing her soon. They had no secrets. Moreover, the only real fear was that they might one day lose each other without staying together.

Days went by incredibly okay. She also shared in response. She promised that she would get a job and come back to him. She asked him that he should wait another two months. She wrote to him that they would make a comfortable life with the money she would earn.

Their foam-like love lasted for three months. Latu wrote almost every day to her. But she had begun to send less; one or two letters in a month. And it went on to several months. Then he received none. Latu was in hell. Those trances of happiness and charm vanished forever when he heard from a village’s hearsay that she was floating on the Thimpchu River.
Life was dead. The ways were blurred; silent traces of memories killed him, shut to his bosom to be valued and cherished, that he couldn’t bear it. It was a nightmare. He couldn’t accept that so many months after his love, she would be gone, leaving nothing but grieves to show that she was around.
Why should she go when there was so much beauty in her, so much life to be lived, so much love that she had got?
He walked out on his-on all his dreams.

He cried in defeat.

Three days later, her Ajang Karpo gave him a small chit that was found in her room. It read:

Dear Loving Latu,

The truth of life is sometimes difficult to disclose, you know especially when one had so much love. I know my life. I have deliberately separated from you. Hope you will understand. This short life of mine is shortened by a brain cancer. I was to live another month. I couldn’t think myself, and I cannot see you me dying in front of your eyes. So, I drank my life in a pool of water, far from you

Start a new life Latu. I lament for we cannot even remain with each other lifelong. The little saving I had made is in your name.

Your Ever
Choden


Latu sweated with cold tears.



(I wrote this story when I was a student at Jigme Sherubling HSS in Khaling. It’s a true narration of one of my friends.)

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Moelam Choemo

A five-day Moelam Choemo was conducted at Gedu HSS ground, seven kilometers from Darla, where I am living. It just got over yesterday. The ritual was headed by Je Khenpo and the central monastic body. Moelam Choemo was conducted to bring peace and prosperity to the country and its people. Darla school served devotees lunch for a day. It was a tedious one to serve thousands of devotees. Here are some shots of the day.
Mat of grasses, twigs and branches
Train of People

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Teachers on Leave




Just as the year is about to come to an end, people’s energy and synergy are dwindling. The main reason being that they have been so actively involved and working hard for almost nine months. It’s the time for a rest, a little drop off from laborious and taxing works. Because teachers’ job is so heavy that even the undertaker boxer will be able to lift only for a second. They need lots of free periods to deliver quality lessons. Another reason for the leave now-a-days is ongoing Moelam Choemo in Gedu, seven kilometers from Darla school. Many devotee teachers are attending the ceremony there.

Complying with hard works, teachers have begun to take leave from their works. Today, 12 teachers have taken casual leave; the whole of a Lower Secondary school. When such leaves are taken, substitutions come like battalions leaving one with no ways to catnap for clear teaching for the next class. While takers would have taken forty winks like naps, we are inflamed.
Today's List

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Global Hand Washing Day



Darla's banner
Coinciding with International Hand Washing Day, Darla school celebrated Hand Washing day for three consecutive days. The school Health Committee invited HA of Darla Gewog to say a few words on the importance of washing hands. He highlighted a number of people dying due to not cleaning their hands. He also talked to the assembly of students and teachers, that, the main cause of any disease is not willing to wash their hands properly. Global Hand Washing Day underscores the importance of handwashing regularly with soap and water as one of the most effective and affordable health interventions. Hand washing helps to fight against many kinds of diseases and stay healthy. I feel the literal meaning of clean hand means washing away, it would also mean clean hand from stealing, touching unwanted things. In fact, we need a clean mind, so that we can have clean hands.

Anyways, there are many programs for the days. There are hand washing demos by class XB today. There are twelve techniques shown. And there is hand washing for every class.  Every class was asked to bring jerry cans and make T-P holes (tap holes) for the days and to be kept for the year. We did.

Here are some snapshots of what’s happening now:

My class IV B students


Jerrycans with T-P holes