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Sunday, October 16, 2011


Everybody is paired up ----except me, of course. All my friends are in relationships. Lately, I've felt like maybe I should just go out and find somebody, anybody.

Some of my friends are thinking about getting married or at least getting serious with someone. That's one reason why Sh and I broke up recently. I just knew he wasn't the one for me. Now He's with someone else! Even though Sh and I weren't right for each other, for a while there, I really wanted him back.

I feel lonely sometimes. There is practically nobody to hang out with. Everybody's out with their " Significant others." Today I prayed , " God, when are you going to send somebody my way? I' m tired of being alone.

During my quiet time yesterday, I read about Elijah. He was pretty depressed at one point. He must've felt lonely. I can relate. You know what I like about his story? The fact that God didn't just tell Elijah," Suck it up! Quit feeling sorry for yourself!" Instead he showed himself to Elijah and reminded him that he was with him.

God has been helping me not to focus on how lonely I feel. For one thing, he is still here. He is also helping me not to settle for something thats " almost right" just to be paired up like everybody else.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

If Only

I searched for you everywhere, Can't find you!

Why did you have to go that day? I wish I could turn back time and recover all that I have lost. Only if I knew that was the last time I was hearing your voice, I would have asked you not to go.
I wish there was a sign to have held you back, if I knew I would never be able to see you again, I would have never left you the time I saw you last.

If only, you were here, I would have felt a lot better. I would at least have been to convince myself to move on. I have missed you everyday of my life from the time you have left. I live with the memories from the past and can't stop feeling sorry for us. Life would have been different if you were here. It would have least been good but living here without you is so empty.

I try to get a glimpse of you among the crowd and try to listen to your voice, every time I hear a voice. I do not want to be pathetic anymore...I want you back!

I miss you dear, every single day of my life!!!

Saturday, September 24, 2011

6 days after the earthquake

Waking up exactly after 6 days after the earth quake shook us off our souls, I lie on my bed and wonder what could have happened if the tremors lasted for some extra seconds.

Many of us here have been lucky and who do we really thank that we are still in one piece and peace unlike those who perished and are history. Of course at that speck of time, we did recite and surrender ourselves to the "terror". As the news flashed the aftermath of which we could have been a part, we could not stop thinking to ourselves " It could have been me".

That was quite an escape friends! and what followed next was the series of stories from the terrifying experience. We know onto ourselves how we felt and I would fail to put that in words if I were to express it.

Now that we all have got the taste of fear and death, I do not know how many of us will now be prepared for the worst. Today, a slightest roar or a movement instills a fear that its coming again. The other night, I was preparing myself for bed and then I felt the bed was shaky and I did not lose a second to rush to my parents room and alert them, but it was nothing. (I still do not know if the earth really shook but then it did scare me.)

I still cannot forget the horrified looks on the face of the people I saw seconds after the quake, Moreover, the relief that they safely made it outside their dwellings were a sign of victory. And having the chance to reunite with your family and friends and telling them how you voyaged the experience is the story that will last a life time.

That was something friends but I still cannot take my mind off the feeling, " Would I have been one of the survivors if the earth had shaken a bit longer?" Well, that is something which is left better unanswered.

And now with the predictions that it is going to happen again, I wonder, " Will we make it again?"

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Adieu Granny

August 10, 3;19 pm

One minute to go and then three hours will pass since my granny breathed her last on this earth. If only we knew that it was the last of your days, we could have chatted long when we last met you online. You sat there patiently despite the pain that was eating through you all this while.

And now as she lies in her slumber surrounded by grieving family members, we are the ones missing. Of course, we are her family but then we just can't make it there.

My mom has lost her mother and she saw it all on the web cam. I know she is shattered but she is not showing it to us. God, please give her the strength to go through this pain.

Rest in Peace Grandmother! and forgive us that we could not be there. I know you understand the situation. We have always missed you though and will miss you for the times we live.
We never got to be with you but then we know how much you loved us. Thank you and you will always live in our memory. With you, our opportunity to call someone "Boju" is also gone.

Let the angels in the heaven guide you well and take care of you till we meet!

Sunday, July 3, 2011

after all i am just a samsung corby

Confessions :

Choosing is a difficult business. I know this out of personal experience and observation. All sorts of people come here, and they gaze, stare, touch, and fiddle us before they make up their minds. To buy or not to buy.

It took a long time for her to decide. There were many of us – of all brands, colors and castes – on display. Me, I am a black Samsung Corby hunk. I do not blow my own trumpet but I feel I am a class apart, honestly.

The salesman had spread us out on the table. Her prying eyes went from me to others and back to me. I was excited. She was going to fall for me. And as I was sure, she picked me up. The salesman and I were both glad to part our ways. He would get his money (I fetched him some Nu 8,799, not so cheap huh!) and I, my freedom. After all it was getting into my nerves for having to wait all this time. And waiting, I say out of my personal experience, is another boring business!

Once home, she unwrapped me from the box and then took me in her hands as though I were a new born kitten. Before I realized she took the SIM from her old Nokia handset and tugged it in me. That was the time when I felt that she would take care of me for life. She carried me to all places and put me near her pillow when she slept. Who doesn’t love to be cared?

She would not let her brothers play games in me, yelling at them that my battery life would go down. She updated me with the fanciest wall paper and the latest call back tones. And as she held me in her hands, she would make sure she does not drop me.

But things started to change drastically after she saw her sister’s Nokia 5233. She compared and complained. She found me user unfriendly. Messaging was a difficult task for her. And then she wanted to exchange me with her sister’s phone. This came as a huge blow to my pride. Good, her sister bluntly denied the offer. I had never wanted to depart from her in anyways but who would have understood it. She was good as a care taker.

Almost one year has passed since she bought me. I have been doing a good job too. Sometimes, I hear her talking lovingly to some people and the very next moment, she will be arguing. At times, she forgets to carry me to work and then I lie under her pillow ringing miserably till the battery runs out.

Once charged, she uses me as a device to put her to sleep by playing music on me. I try my level best to fulfill all my purposes, consoling her when she is down and lonely. She fiddles with me at odd hours looking for something. She has dropped me mercilessly many a time but I promise to be by her side always. But in the past few days I have felt useless, after she was fascinated by her aunt’s apple iphone. I am sure she has been dreaming about it since then. One thing I have learnt from humans is that, it is difficult to keep them happy for long. I can only do so much, after all I am just a phone!

Friday, June 24, 2011

Love the talk

Note: The piece is solely personal and does not bear resemblance to any living being and is truly unintentional.

I have always loved to hear Shania Twain's 'You are still the one." The songs pacifies my hallucinations powers and tells me a story of success in love and a happy ending.

Once in my true sense, I take it as a thing that happens only in the fairy tales and in the movies. The aftermath of the love stories are never shown in any of the representations that humans plot.
It does not mean that I am skeptic about hyped love stories.

I too have grown stirring butterflies in the stomach and going weak on my knees at the sight of the crush and getting attracted to the opposite sex. Little did I know that it was a momentary thing, then. I remember when I first heard of the word "Date" and I had googled it in my oxford dictionary. Although it sounded casual, it was something that excited any junior high school kid.

I had friends who were already dating by then and I wanted to do that too. The very description of it sounded cool and thrilling. Fortunately or unfortunately I never stood a chance until I reached High School. (But it has nothing to do with the post, therefore I am omitting it.)

The point of my post here is, today at this juncture of life, there are no signs of the butterflies or signs that tell me of being attracted to someone. It has become very important for me look into the other side of the coin before assuming feelings. Today, it means a long time commitment and choosing the right partner.

It no more means holding hands and promising the moon and the stars but is about being with someone who loves you the way you are, promises to love your family and welcome you to his. Living in a world that is changing rapidly and the turn of events, I feel things are meant to be this way.

Of course, it gives me a lot of pleasure when I hear about knots being tied and moving in together but next thing that strikes me is, " Will it work out the way we plan?" " What if it does not work?", Will I be ready to take all of that complications.

Fear, I guess is the correct word! I would not want to complicate anyone's life and wish the same for myself, All I dream of is a happy life and a good relationship. I would not mind a little bit of ups and downs but then I would always like to sing the song that I mentioned up and feel that way!

Monday, June 20, 2011

Bardo, as we call it!

I seriously need to post something tonight before I run short of words again.

So what do I have in mind?

Today I had a very interesting conversation with my two editors and with all the nodding I did, I seriously feel that I should pen it down, before I forget. While they were busy talking, I wished it was talk show broadcast-ed live and there was an audience. I am sure it would have generated a lot of discussion and would have been fun!

The talk was about death ( Ata Tashi just lost his grandfather and that was from where the relevancy came). I happened to walk in and then was the part of the conversation. As I sat there listening and agreeing that death is the ultimatum and the way a person dies shows his life in brief.

I have always heard that, " Good people are called by God earlier than the bad ones," and I have no idea how true it can be. But then it does make a point.

While we spoke, we drifted to the aspects of how religion prepares a person for death. H0w different beliefs and teachings give hope to the human minds about the judgement day. We had a difference of opinion there, where some believe in rebirth, my faith does not talk about it.

Aby sir quoted " Now when the bardo of dharmata dawns upon me, I will abandon all thoughts of fear and terror, I will recognize whatever appears as my projection and know it to be a vision of the bardo" the Tibetan book of living and dying.

Aby said that whenever he hears of death anyone known or unknown, he recites these prayers so that the souls of the dead finds a way.

The death of the two BDFC staff and the farmers was up next( Attacked by a swarm of bees and the car fell off on the Gelephu -Zhemgang highway).
The question is how was it different for a person who is lying sick and knows that he is going to die and for a group who dies in an accident or a flight crash. Well, it definitely means that one has to be prepared at all times.

But we came to a conclusion that all religions; be it Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, Muslim or any sect, they all preach and prepare us to die.

I found it very interesting when Ata said, " I envy when people say they enjoy travelling." " I can never enjoy travelling ! " The whole time I think about reaching my destination rather than enjoying the travel and the scenery," he added. This was his concept about life too.

He said likewise we people worry about getting there and fail to see the beautiful things in life. How true, I thought! This are the very things that make up your life and lay down opportunities for you do some good deeds or Karma.

" A person who knows how his stay on earth, knows how to live it," he acclaimed.

Death seems to stir thoughts in our minds and unless it happens to someone close, I guess we cannot really feel the pinching.

As I kept nodding my head in approval, thoughts were flashing in my mind.I sat there reflecting on all my deeds and somehow felt lightened that my faith in Christ does not allow me to think that I will be reborn as cow or a human being. A simple confession and repentance will lift it all and then I go back to dust where I came from.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

My tough woman

I have always known my mother to be a loud, somebody who will always panic and shout for small things and I know she is not like that at work but when at home she is the boss. And my dad is a complete opposite; quite, slow to anger and patient. (I guess that is how god pairs partners).

Well, this is about my mother, so dad is out of the limelight for now.

She wants things to be done her way and is more stubborn than me. This is why mom and I, can never come to a similar ground many a times.She rightly points out many things she has done that dad would have never done without her.( She is far sighted and smart).

There was a point in my life, when I thought I hated my mom for scolding and not letting us do things or have things that we wanted. At the same time, I always noticed that she is a very sincere and a helpful person. Hospitality at her best, she loves feeding people and talking to people.

I have grown up watching mom taking care of the family, managing work, cooking and feeding us religiously three times a day. ( I wonder at times if I will be able to do things that she does.)

Lately I have seen her helpless and it is disturbing. I wish I could be of help but then I am equally helpless.

I know she has had a difficult time leaving away from her mother and now that she is dying, she cannot even extend a hand to wipe out the sweat from my granny's head. They are too far to reach out to.

My mother's family were many among the others who left the country in the problems of 1993. I really did not have a clue why but then it has been that way ever since I have figured out that they cannot come back. I know they have had a tough time living in the camps for 17 years and now that they are comfortably settled in the U.S, it seems equally painful.

My Grandmother has been diagnosed with cancer and that she would live not less than 6 months. She has already under many operations and doctors have said Chemo therapy would not work in her. Now that is what is bothering my mother. She is losing her sleep and her patience. Her endurance is giving way and the fact that she cannot be there for her mother is eating into her.

I know that she is a very strong woman and this is the only one thing that can break her. And the worst part is that " we, her family" cannot console her in anyways. She will have to be strong herself.

I simply look at her and wonder If I can be like her and hope that I would not have to live away from her at any cost. I have missed my grandparents on many occasions but have learnt to accept the fact.

All I can do for now is this and pray that the doctors are proven wrong and that my mom continues to have that lively attitude and her stubbornness. I just dread the consequences that the news will shatter her. God Bless all the mothers in the world!

Monday, May 16, 2011


Years,months, weeks, days and hours pass by, I continue to live as I am supposed to. I live with a strong feeling that I have overcome it. I had a feeling that I have overcome the pains and boast of being strong. But seems like all those are only to keep me happy.

I know, You are not coming back. No miracles is to happen and this is how things are supposed to be. I don't even know if you thought about me when you lay there," How would I feel"? Did you? You knew it would shatter me. Did you know how long it would live with me?

I can't tell you how long. Is six years not enough to forget someone? So many things have changed around, the places do not look the same anymore, people have changed and even time has changed. I have finished college and am working as a reporter(I assume you know that by now..) Things would have been so much better now that both of us would be earning and we would not have to worry about so many things.

I do not want to complain, I am happy with life. Everything is perfect. The world is moving at its pace and I share a tiny part in that. Work is fun, Our heads are cool and I have good friends. I hardly get time to think about you. I still love travelling. I just came back from Bengaluru (the name has been changed from Bangalore.) Bishnu finished college and is working there. I had fun there, made some new friends.

Life is running fast and I hardly get to look back but yes I miss you. Yesterday was one of those days, I could not stop myself. I do not know what overcame me, I simply wished you were there.

Today, I am back to normal again. Here on my desk trying to figure out how to start for the week. I work for a weekly, you see Mondays are relaxed for us.

You would be happy to know that I still go to the church. It gives me so much peace and keeps me going. I haven't been able to read the Bible as often as I want to. I would do that more regularly soon.

Mom, dad and brothers are fine too. Enos is in class 12 Science( He will be going to college next year and Suraj in 10( He wants to take up science too), their mid term exams are due next month.

I am good. Lost a few kilos because of cold and fever. What about you? I hope you are fine out there. I wanted to ask you, if you miss me?

If you do, all you have to do is hug your pillow and cry...it helps a lot :-)

P:S- I wonder what you would have become.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

I turn a year older

I turn 27 today and the feeling is great. There is nothing unusual about the day apart from the convoy of birthday wishes and the date. It is like any other day.

I turn a year older, an addition to my stay in this world. By rule, I am now supposed be wiser and somber. Moreover, I am now all set to get married. I know that is a bigger concern for my parents but I feel no different then how I felt yesterday.

Of course, I do want to settle down in life, have a family and be a homemaker. But I do not want to hurry and regret it later on. Marriage is a sacred institution and I do not want to take any risks.
Gosh, I know the questions people would be putting across, "when I would tie the knot?" " Am I dating someone?"

And I cannot escape that and who would tell them that I want to take time and wait for the right man. It has been going on for sometime now, but the fear that I will have to be single hasn't really worried me. Maybe it is because I have enough things and people around to keep me occupied. I really haven't given a serious thought. And even if I have, the doubts that I would not be able to manage home and work makes it sound better.

Well, Marriage can wait. I have other things in mind. And on this day, I promise and would strive to be a better daughter, a better sister, a better person and a good reporter first. Others would follow if it has to...Happy Birthday to me!!!

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

When in India, Know Cricket

Earlier if you asked me if I knew what the game was all about, I would have said, "No, ". But now with a slight twist of events I can say, it is fun. I have learnt the game in about more than two days just because I happen to be in Bangalore with the whole cricket fever going on and if I did not match up, I would be out of the place.

Despite the fact that I have a colleague back at work who plays in the national cricket team, it never came to my interest to know how about the game. So much so that even after he came back after playing match, it ended with the note, " Welcome back and nothing more than that." It was just a routine until today.

I have decided, when I get back I would ask him what is he good at? Bowling or Batting? Now, when he goes out to play, I can relate to what he is talking about. And it all happened because the Cricket World Cup is on here in India.

Thanks to Bhanu Pratap Singh, we call him Majdur for short. He taught the me the basics of a game that brings together the whole of India. Be it Prime Minister Man Mohan Singh or a commoner like the delivery boy who wants to know the latest score or the next door neighbor who bunked office to see the match. Everyone I know here at the moment is talking about it.

" Cricket is religion in India," some body has pointed it appropriately. " From the Bollywood superstars to the business tycoon Mallya or Mukesh Ambani they all have love for the game.

At the mall, you see the salesman at the counter beating his head, a huge crowd in front of the TV showroom, colleges and school remain close and office goers plan a break just to witness the Indian team play.

The highways unusually remain relaxed. " What is the score?" the message tone beeps every minute. Someone who cannot access the match tries to match up.

And all of this curiosity intrigued me why there is so much of buzz when India- Pakistan is playing. And today, I can describe the very feeling of it.

Now, I know why Sachin despite his quirky voice is so popular. Why all the adds on TV these days have cricketers. (so many more)

India beat Pakistan with 29 runs. Celebrations began before the match even got over.
Crackers illumined up in the sky like in Diwali, lots of them. My sister calls from work just to let me hear the noise.

I cannot believe, I sat through the entire India-Pakistan semi-final match like any of my Indian friends screaming and swearing. And not touching the remote for about 8 hours. Although I haven't mastered it completely, I can bet next time when I hear Chakka or How is that, I know what is happening on the field. Who is out and what is a wicket?

Suddenly, cricket has become so exciting. Cannot wait to witness India play against Sri Lanka before I go home.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

One day at the Cremation Ground

As the name suggests, Anyone would have guessed what is coming. Yes, Today morning I was at the Dhuetho of our MD's mother. I had never known her when she were alive but then got to attend her cremation. I was one among many who had come to help the be grieved family.

It was my first time attending a Buddhist cremation and I was curious about the whole affair.

while visitors kept pouring in on our side, on the other end of the crematory a woman was waiting on for fire wood so that they could burn her husband. The man had died this very morning cause of some mouth infection. He was survived by a woman and exactly did not get how many children but his son was there at the edge of the pile of the burning firewood sponsored by others who had come for the same.

While, the monks could be heard reciting prayers, three hearths stood blazing. (As if in competition who would burn faster.)

As many of us stood watching the flames bring down the piles of wood on our side, there were none on that side. It looked empty and unattended. So we decided to walk to that side and pay homage. After some time, the whole of Business Bhutan present there gathered around the fire just talking about what human life is destined for and how everyone who take that place in turns.

On inquiring we found that he was from Samdrup Jongkhar, the same place Ata Tashi was from. As the son fiddled with a long stick poking at the fire, " How strong can he be? I questioned myself. I saw not the slightest sign of tears in his eyes.

We stood there for along time looking at the fire burning and just talking.

But how long, could we stand there, the smoke and the wind made it possible so we drifted away. It took a very long time for the fire to burn down the whole set, we could not have waited till the end. As we led ourselves to have lunch, I peeped from the window just to see the fire still burning and thought to myself, " This is it."

Monday, March 7, 2011

the prodigal daughter

Last Sunday was very unusual. Unlike other days of the week, I woke up at 6:45 am, ( the alarm did not even have to go up). Got myself a nice warm bath and by the time my Aunty called, I was all set. I could see that she wan not prepared for that when she asked, " What happened to you today?"

That was rare. The morning air seemed nostalgic as I ran past to catch a taxi.

Perfect! I reached before the praise and worship got over. I felt an extraordinary feeling grip as I joined the choir group with tears surfacing up till my eye lids. I was feeling like that after along time. I was glad, I did not fall back to sleep like other days.

I had to make some strong confessions and resolutions today(;-) That I am keeping to myself and I am glad I have done that).

We had two speakers from Australia, Scott and Ben that day and like they had known what was relevant to me. As I sat listening to these two great hosts, I could let myself loose and strengthen my beliefs to go ahead with my earlier plans.

Ben, 24 in his sharing reflected that he and most young people have similar mistakes and not to loose faith thinking its the end. Our father would always love us the way the father in the story, the prodigal son and waited for his son to return.

I so wanted to confess and go back to what he always wants me to do. I knew he was there watching over me all the time and must have gone sad. I do not know how I lost the track but the hope that I always have the liberty to go back made it easier.

In the meantime, Scott spoke about God's definition about love and said " The power to love" in us comes from the God himself. He said love is something that grows deep in course of time and of another kind which struggles to live with time.

" Love is not based on feelings or attractions but is a choice to extend your love to another in small and larger ways," he said. " There is no risk of rejection, humiliation and pain," he continued.

As he spoke I could not help nodding my head and when he asked, " How are we to love God?"
a long silence prevailed and the young pastor said, "Simple," Pay it Forward."

The only way in which we can show love to God is by loving one another and that is only way in which we can tell God how much we love him.

Bible says, " If anyone says, I Love God," yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For the person who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God who he has not seen.And we have this command from him: the one who loves God must also love his brother. 1 John 4; 20-21.

There are so many commendable things in the book that every time, I open, I have the answers to all my woes and doubts. I need not go to anyone nor consult a expert. Every Sunday, is a Sabbath day http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabbath for us and I am on my way back.

I know, my father is waiting on me, just like the father who waited for his son to return. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parable_of_the_Prodigal_Son

those Suppandi days

After going through an array on RIP Uncle Pai online, I was talking to a friend, a young chap and realised that he doesn’t know who uncle Pai was. I was taken back.

Referring to characters: Suppandi, Tantri the Mantri, Kalia –the crow, Shikari Shambu and son on, I asked, if he read ‘Tinkle’ and he replied, “No.”

His reasoning to it was that he was born in a digital era and I could relate to it immediately as I have seen my brothers glued to play station or glued to Facebook.

It was true. A flash back to the days when I was studying in Lungtenzampa surfaced in my head.

It used to be so fun going through Suppandi, a village simpleton who always misunderstood the commands of his master, the adventures of the lazy Shikari Shambu , who always ran from troubles but ended up becoming a hero. Tantri the Mantri’s tactics to replace Raja Hooja backfiring, Ramu and Shambu, the two identical twins who always wore checked shirts and shorts. It happened to me and why it happens were always fun to read.

The cover was always inviting and there were times when I used to quickly go through Suppandi features when the shopkeeper was not looking. (It used to happen mostly when I did not have enough money to buy it.)

Nu 25 seemed a lot of money then and special issues of Tinkle which came for Nu 50 always a catch but due to budget constraints, we resolved to borrowing and lending.

It was worth sacrifices on the pocket money. It was with me when I ate and spent hours reading it in the rest room.

These characters were a part of my school days. I assume that most of these generations’ kids have missed that part.

However, it never caught my attention to know-how it was created and who was behind the colourful stories. Of course, I knew the name but had felt the importance to see how he looked like.

And Until I heard of his death, I collected myself to google his image and reflected how this humble looking man used to be a part of my childhood days.

Now I know, he was from Kerala and how intelligently he had blend Indian history into narrative after he learnt that students were bad in history. He used to love children but never had his own.

He has left behind his wife alone and many like me wondering who would take his mission forward.

Rest in Peace Uncle!!

Read the edited version @ http://www.businessbhutan.bt/?p=4888

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

the sinking fairy

Growing up was definitely fun and exciting, but what made it happening was the dreamy deary world that any girl of my age would have conceived then while she readies herself for surprises. I dunno about the men lot,( Most I knew enjoyed climbing the water pipes and playing with guns).
But my army were more into dressing Barbie dolls and learning how to cook in our plastic cookware which has eventually turned into steel or bronze.

I do not know what day I decided to give away the last of my collection of Barbie and bountiful utensils. I don't even remember if I threw it or gave it away to my successors. I have probably lost it along with the love to play.

And Where have the fairy tales books disappeared? And where are the fairies that enabled me to dream of my prince charming? Had I known that fairy tales were not real, would I, have read the stories of Cinderella or Rapunzel?

I do not want to say that, I am unhappy with the turn of events in my life. Of course, I have learnt to accept things and believe that life is not all about merry making. There is no point anticipating in some mind's fictional stories. You have your own set of roles to in- tune with.

From the time we are admitted to schools, we are bound to be dutiful. " You cannot do this, You cannot do that, This is not proper, You have to work hard, You cannot go there ..on and on..there is a long list of To Do's and Don'ts.. and I don't see it ending.

Now that you are all grown up, You need to be extra responsible. You still cannot make mistakes.

This is a place where if one makes a mistakes, it is tagged to you for life. You need to be careful 24/7 days a year. You fall in love with a wrong person, you are there. People say you learn from your mistakes, but if you repeat the same mistake makes up a sin.

Earlier, I used to claim that I haven't sinned but recently there is guilt and hopelessness hovering around me. I have drank till I have puked, Smoked till it hurt my chest, and sneaked out to party. Shouted back at my mother. What good is left in me now?

I cannot say, I am a good girl anymore. I have stopped reading the Bible and miss church every alternate week.

It would so stupid to point fingers at you but deep inside of me, I have feeling, if only I had not fallen for you, If you had not inflicted this pain unto me, I would have been able to still believe in happy endings.

The image of my prince has been blurred. The pages have worn out from its books.
Someday, I would definitely write about you. Let Your Soul Rest in Peace.

Monday, February 21, 2011

A Solo Celebration

Barely 6 hours from the grand celebration day, over thousand Bhutanese gathered around the clock tower square yesterday to witness their favorite movie stars and singers rehearse for what was to come the following day.

The audience did not care about the chilling air that cut through their wears and thermals, they were already in the celebration spree.

The tiny capital of the Himalayan kingdom was preparing to celebrate the 31st birthday of their beloved king. His Majesty, the fifth Druk Gyalpo, Jigme Khesar Namgayl Wangchuck, popularly known as the people's king. The huge poster of the king glowed behind, performers drew the crowd to cheer them up and as they began sing a song for the King, one could easily held his head high and utter, " I am proud to be a part of this."

While the thought caught me, I was thinking of the many Bhutanese away from home. Many would be cherishing memories from their school as students when every school in the Thimphu valley wanted their students to perfect the march and the song.

Perfect timing! I can hear a kid sing, " Druk Tseden Kipi Gyel Khab Na..far at a distance!

This was the song we used to memorize towards the end of a year. We would look forward to show that we were the best ones and as soon as the march got over, scatter around the Changlimithang ground to witness the cultural program.

But then, it used to be for His Majesty, the fourth King, Jigme Singye Wangchuck. Although we never got to see him on his birthday. We used to hear he is celebrating the day with students in the far east. And I used to wonder, if he would be cutting a big cake for them. Never mind, as children that used to be the most happening day for us. We would plan a small treat with friends, just walk around the town till night fall. We did not have worry about wearing the school dress and roaming neither worry about parents scolding why are late. They used to be out as well.

It was the time when all Thimphuians used to come out in the streets, simply to walk or gather around the same clock tower square and witness familiar cultural show. Another attraction were the fair that used to excite most of us. The giant wheel was the deadliest of all machines there. But brave me, I frequented it but now when I think, I wonder.

School got over, and so did the chance to march again. Although I wish, I could be part of the rally again, it has all come to a stop.

If I were still in school today, I would have dressed myself smart, and reached the Changlimithang ground early and would have marched in my finest feat. I would not have woken late and lying down on the bed listening to the celebration from home. I can hear the thud of the celebration cuddled up in my bed and wonder, " What did I miss today?"

Long Live Our King, " And thank you for the cake that you sent to office Pre-Losar."

You indeed are the " People's King". All I can do for now is pray that many hearts sing and slide the memories of it, like I did today.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy Sundays ; Food for thought (Addressed to God)

I often drill my head, just to realize that the greatest fear in me is to lose someone that I love.

The first thing that comes to my list is losing my parents. What If, I wake up someday to find either of them gone. I dread to think about that moment and always pray that, " it is me who goes first."

I would not be able to take that shock. With news of death and new born every now and then,(of course the latter brings happiness but death always triggers me.) That is one reason, I want to be home. So that I can convince myself that, they are there.

But then how long? What if, I wake up one fine morning and realize it has happened. How will my family handle it? How will my brothers react? Will it affect their relaxed nature? Will my younger brother still want to go to USA? How would I tell my sister about it?

For so long, mom has asked her to leave her job in Bangalore and come home. Would she cry all the way back? She would regret it all her life.

Will things be the same again? - " No, definitely not."

I know life moves on and we humans are accustomed to all this bitter facts of life. I have seen people living with such losses and surviving tragedies but then will it be the same for my family?

I would never be the same again. It will make me a pessimist. I would stop believing in God.

But what about my siblings and my other parent. I do not want the same to happen to them.

Yes, at times, I fight with mom over stupid things and may have hurt dad but then I do not want them gone. I am used to having them around. We take them for granted.

Mom will always be there to cook her tasty chicken curry for us and shout at almost every morning. Dad would always be there to drive her around and carry her shopping bag. He would always be there to get my brothers ready for school and attend to their result days.

I have seen that my parents have been the most sincere and the most helping to almost everyone and I assume God will give them extra years of life.

I want them to see their grand grand children and baby sit them after they retire from work.

I want to see them living in the plot they have bought in Kasadraphu. I hope my mother gets a bigger kitchen and a house with a huge verdah, where she can dry her pickles without losing it. She wishes to have a big sitting room and a room for prayer.(She brings a new plan every month for her dream house) I pray all her dreams comes true. Then, dad can happily rear chickens and grow aloe vera there and play with his grand children. He would not have to worry about connectivity errors in the office. He would happily enjoy his pension.

This are little dreams that my mom and father has been struggling with for almost a jubilee years now. Something like death should not tear it apart.

I anticipate whatever I want for my parents would be taken care of. As for me, I am would be happy if my years are added onto theirs. I would not matter much, so much as to they do to us.

If I could wish for more, I would wish all mothers and fathers in the world have long life. Even their children.

Life would have been much better, if God had not had not included death in his agenda. Never mind, the population explosion. We would have handled it.

Will my putting it down, be of any help? I fear no, but then I want to take it as a plea on behalf of everyone living, sorry for those already dead that from now on ward, no families break down and no father and mother leaves this earth without playing with their grand children.

Losing other things in life does not much. I would be able to adjust with that, God, Let there be noisy mornings and happy Sundays.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

My trip to Phuentsholing

It feels good to be back in the office with the team but then I have suddenly realized it is more exciting to be on your own. I had heard from my editors " The bureau experience is the best for a reporter' and as a part of the plan, I was sent to Phuentsholing to cover the Thrompen elections.

I must confess, that I was not very confident at first but then I was there in this city clueless. It was such a relieve that I had sat with my editors and discussed some of the angles before I left and had a plan.

I would like to go more into the details of the elections in my next post; this one is going to be a nutshell of my 20 day stay in Phuentsholing.

I was of course very happy to have escaped the cold Thimphu weather and to enjoy the warm air. And to add to that, I had plenty of vegetable momo(s) and Pani puris to keep me going till I get back to the town again.

I am already wishing, I find a place soon and then I can shift there permanently. I am so in love with the place. Born and brought up here in the capital, I always felt, Thimphu was the best place to be but then I contradict it now as a reporter.

I want to be in Phuentsholing; there is so much happening down there and I have a feeling that I can do better from there. My editors are quite happy with my two weeks reporting from there and it means so much to me.

Aby sir congratulated me for my sense of photography: It feels good.

Earlier, I used to feel, I would let them down but my experiences from the place now boosts my eagerness to go down and start our first bureau office there. I anticipate that it is going to be the best experience for as a reporter to be on the field; reporting, interacting and travelling.

I wish there are many things unexplored and I can be a part of the findings. I wish I can be a voice for the people and get interesting facts. Moreover, bring out the best in me and my paper.

I plan to take it up as challenge against myself!!!

P:S- I hope I did not ask for too much :-)

Thursday, January 6, 2011

my date with a minister

It has been almost a decade that I have been skipping breakfast. That was one reason why most of the mornings used to fetch me a good lecture from my mother. The habit which has lead me from my school to college and to work, has had no side effects as of now although mom claims I would face consequences later.

Hmmmm...I will have to see that later but for today even my stomach might have been surprised to receive the first morsel of food( early morning) before the two mugs of hot plain water.
I wasn't prepared for this but then I woke up to a call from the communication minister to join him for breakfast. It did surprise me, and there was no way I could deny it.

As I jumped out of my bed wondering how to conduct myself. Of course we would be discussing on the issue that I was supposed to write about but then I could not help thinking what I would be having. I would not mind a cup of tea but on second thoughts, I felt I should not let the opportunity go.

I was ready by quarter past nine and then my other worry was on how to reach to the minister's enclave. Lyonpo wanted to send a car to get me but then I said, I would manage. With lots of taxis around, commuting is not at all a problem. On that note;I also realized that I need to own a car. But before that, I need to learn driving. :-/

I will think about it later when I am done with the meeting.

Hurry up girl, the minister is waiting for you..

As I got inside the taxi and mentally hurried, I wasn't really sure why I got invited. It is probably something to do with the story but then who cares as long as I got the invitation.

"The first house on the right," said the security at the gate and I was nervous I was late. As I approached the entrance, two familiar faces greeted me and then at the door, my minister stood drinking a cup of black tea.

I had it, I thought to myself but then nothing happened. As he led me to the hall, I was still wondering if the rachu in my hand should be on my shoulders. I was still trying to figure out if it were a official or a formal meet.

Next, I found myself sipping tea with him discussing something very important until a young maid in her teens entered with two trays: it had puris, alu dum, omelette ( Just the way I like it)..for a moment, I did not think about my decade old vow and just attacked. It definitely tasted yummy but then with the minister just sitting next to me, I wanted to eat slowly.

Yes, but to the contrary, I found it very funny to see Lyonpo gobbling his share as quickly as possible. He probably had a meeting to attend. As I tried to match up with him, by the time he stood to wash his hands, I was left with one more puri and half the egg.

I was thinking I would leave that but then the minister insisted I carry on and his driver would drop me to office and then in half then a minute, he left in his prado.

As the maid came by with some more puris, I said, " I am done." As I looked around if I could catch a glimpse of the minister's wife and say hello ( who I hear is paralyzed), I realized maybe I should give up the idea and go to office.

Outside, the driver was waiting, as I got in the Bhutan Government Car, I wondered, "How would it have been, If my dad were a minister?" and I were to write something that would have affected him in someway.

I saw a conflict in me, If I should have really been. Would I be pursuing it?

Once, I reached office, I got my answers. After a brief talk with Lamsang, I felt it was better to do away with my story for good.

I am really happy with the decision we made, although I got the front page possibility after a long time. But I am sure, it is worth everything.

Nevertheless, for me, I can boast about it all my life about the quick date with a minister. :-)