Writing

I have been at a standstill with my writings and seriously I don’t get the disposition these days to do so too. The other day I was arguing with one of my senior at work. Taking a look at my blog, he was of the view that blogging should not be allowed in the office (he meant it should be blocked like the social networking sites. I know he was just being polite using the word “not allowed” which meant “blocked”!). He feared that we would be most of the time scribbling articles and thereby slaying our time which would actually be used towards something more productive (as if writing wasn’t productive). But any way I made my points clear that for me when I need to write something, I need the right mood and of course the right surroundings. I can never write an article in the office and our office is one of those offices frequented by lots of people from all walks of life. So all the more reasons I cannot get the right eagerness to put pen to paper. The debate still needs to be continued!
Being a literature student, I have had for all time the love for writing. I always used to envy those who were so flawless with their language, I still do. It may sound weird to some but the first thing that catches my attention towards a person is his/her language. It is words that can have my heart at their feet (oops my weakness!). Well this doesn’t mean that I have the best of lingo myself but I seek to perfect it (no one is perfect I know!) someday hopefully!
Down the existence lane, it gives me a kind of exhilaration to envisage myself as a writer cocooned in my own world of fantasies, angels, barbies, miracles and magic. Pardon me if I have started sounding out of the world but we have been taught in my literature days that poets and writers transport themselves out of this world through their writings. That’s how they liberate (momentarily though) themselves from the worldly pain and sufferings. Yet again I don’t mean to say that I am so much drowned in sufferings( heaven be thanked for I have a blessed life) that I want to sought to writing but the mere fact that I love writing shove me to have such attitude.
May be some day I can work on this distant dream, May be some day I can even realize it, may be some day I will be a writer , a passion I had in me from the time when I was handed the pencil!

Coyote ugly – a sad reality

“Sir please come in”- the girls at the door confer a amorous look to lure passersby in to their bars. Inside girls barely clothed dancing to the music aired, faking smiles and moves. My heart went out to these girls and I couldn’t help asking if what they are doing were out of pure interest or was it out of desperation. The only answer I got was a smile, a painful one so I asked no more. I could see a daughter, a sister and above all a helpless woman dancing on that display place where hungry eyes looked upon as if waiting to pounce upon a prey.
“Sir Will you buy me a drink?” A girl barely in her twenties treaded softly to the man beside me who had just made his entrance .The man lustfully pulled her to his side and started chafing his hands on her bare body. Of course she was paid with a drink. Later on I learnt that she would be paid by the bar in terms of commission so it meant she was doing it to earn a little extra. I could feel the uneasiness of the girl as she was being lustfully played by the man. But as helpless as it seems, I could feel the nakedness of her poverty that might have had dragged her in to such setting.
As I looked upon, the environment rather started getting worse, more men started pouring in. These glowed up the faces of the ladies there because obviously it meant they will be getting more money. Probably this also meant they will be able to send back home a little more money.
As I left the dingy heartrending place with my friends, I took a fleeting look back to get a glimpse of the helpless girls entertaining the men around them, a far-flung reverie of becoming a mother, a wife plainly glimmering in their eyes.

GOOd BYE!

Who doesn’t suck at good byes? I am neither a heaven sent angel nor do I possess any magical powers, that with one spin of my wand, I can do wonders. I am like everyone else, a normal ordinary human being made up of flesh and blood. And I suck totally at good byes too.
“Good bye” I wonder what is the “good” in it when nothing of it is good enough, when all it gives is soreness. I have had so many good byes and each good byes only went on getting difficult than the preceding one.
I have been a witness to so many good byes and I have found myself crying over them. As a child, I dreaded the idea of going away from my parents but when I had to leave for my studies, I had no option but to bid good bye for my own good. I wept when my friends bade good bye to leave for their studies and several times over silly love good byes. And I would still cry if I have to bid good bye again.
And yet again I am here to bid yet another good bye; good bye to a person who came in to my world out of the blue and made it so beautiful despite the fact that it was so brief. My heart is heavy and the scenes around me seem to get a little blurry too, damn I told you I am not good at good byes and I am too good at crying. But it is next to impossible not to say good bye and even more impossible to be with you. I don’t know what the future holds or what destiny has in store for me but I am convinced of this that you were sent my way to show me the way forward. The future seems to unveil because of you!
So good bye my dear! You will be missed a lot! And you shall until the end of time occupy a small corner of my heart!
GOOD BYE!

The MTR Experience

Experiencing our country and its customs during the mid- term review with the prime minister and team was the best way to self indulge oneself productively. It was an opportunity to discover and experience the difference between the poorest dzongkhag and the developed ones. I was privileged to have been able to tour five dzongkhags, more so because I got the opportunity to tour two dzongkhags – Samtse and Zhemgang – which are considered the poorest in the country.

What I have learnt from this trip is something very valuable which would shape me to become a more productive civil servant. Just as the prime minister says “our goal should be to bring people together sharing a common goal” I strongly feel that we should think alike in order to grow alike and harmoniously. I have learnt that the thoughts of each individual as a citizen of Bhutan matters to the happiness of the country which would ultimately contribute to GNH.

It was humbling to see our prime minister walking to every dzongkhag tirelessly.

For once I almost found myself delving into the strong historic tales of the great pioneers of our country with each breathtaking reminder of appreciative facts that the prime minister delivered to each gathering he spoke to. History as a subject was never so appealing to me as a student. But the realization that history could do a lot of wonders on people if delivered wisely did make me change my opinion on the subject I dreaded learning.

The prime minister emphasized on how we should carry on forth the same spirit of brotherhood ingrained in us from time immemorial irrespective of the political transition. The assurance of building a peaceful and a stable Drukyul for all generations to come while working on the prime objective to eradicate poverty was a very emotional issue which touched many hearts.

Hilarious outburst in between such discussions did trigger a relaxing ambience motivating people to figure out their major problems and thus working out a solution collectively.

The prime minister made sure that before leaving each gathering after such sessions, he instilled in the people some enthusiasm to cooperate in developing a greater living society for one and all. His willingness to share the blame for Samtse’s slow growth was very encouraging. He rightly termed it as “wholesome responsibility” of all. This clearly indicated the optimism in him. I am confident that it must have encouraged many of the audience like it did to me.

In short, I would say that it would have been a great regret if I had not made to this trip. It was indeed an eye opener especially for me having learnt so many things many of which I am not able to put it down in words but deeply embedded within.

PS- This article has been published in Business Bhutan as a column:)

Destiny and Me

As I sit on my bed on this chilly morning too lazy to come out of the bed. It is already March and yet the cold is still here to stay. I try trapping my thoughts in my laptop; “Destiny” is the word that hits me hard. People say if you are meant to be, you will be together and vice versa. I ask if you were not meant to be, why destiny even let us meet when there is no way we could be together? I look at my cell (expectation never leaves me) though I know and I have alleged several times that It leads to misery. Yet I can’t help it, the emotional fool that I am.
This time I have a very different story to tell you. It is neither about unrequited love nor about compunctions. And I am not even sure if it is love this time or if it is just another chapter to be read and flipped. Or an episode to be remembered somewhere down the memory lane.
Mr. Cupid never runs out of arrows to hit me and every time it hits the bull’s eye, right on my heart. Darn! He is a very good sharp shooter, never misses a single shoot. I am sure me being born on the Valentine’s Day has nothing to do for such generous showers of arrows from him. I never thought in my wildest of the wildest imagination that this time Mr. Cupid was targeting his arrow at someone I could never grasp. But the miracle was much more than I expected.
So here I am again at the threshold of another entrance confused whether I should take a step in or step back! “Matter of time “he did say but time is fleeting and so is life.

The vicious cycle of confusion!

This is so not me or have I been like this all the way along? I AM CONFUSED AS EVER and this is definitely not new. I have been confused over life’s little things. I have been confused when I am to make a choice between two shampoos, one for the oily hair and the other for dry. I am confused what kind of hair I have. I am confused when people ask me where I am from. My dad is from the west when my mom is from the east but we are settled in the south. Gone are the days when we could just scream “ama” and “apa” and they would come running for us. Grown up now so they say but I feel that we are still that little child who needs to be guided. But this time I got myself in to a very strange confusion and luzee was right when she told me that sometimes words are the best comforts, it indeed is.
I did not know or rather was totally unprepared that someone could just turn out of the blue and make my whole otherwise perfect life so disheveled. It was just a matter of few days and here I am on a threshold not knowing where I should be heading to. Whether I should just shook it off as any other insignificant stuff that happen every day or should I chase it. Well it seems I can’t execute both. The first one because it wasn’t any insignificant stuff so I can’t really shook it off my shoulder and the second one because I can’t do it alone, the fire should be burning at both ends. And as confused as I ever can be, I have no clue as to where I stand. Ha! great me, I always succeed in putting myself on such a road where I can see the dead end so clearly. And this time the dead end came in sight rather soon than expected.

I know expectation leads to misery and I was the one yelling at my friends whenever they are in to such stupid confusions. And here I am totally in the confusion circle and yes yes yes I am expecting too. Too bad but can’t help it. It is what I call the vicious cycle or the contagious cycle. Or let me put in a more positive light- I am not expecting but hoping and it is hope that gets you going. Isn’t it?

Well the confusion isn’t going to remain a confusion all life through. It ought to get cleared some day if not it will fade away with time like any other thing. For now I can only say that TIME can only tell the future, if not it is TIME which shall do its wonder once more like always.

A Face Book Story

“Being busy is not an excuse” this is what Pema always said whenever Sangay excused himself on the pretext of being over loaded with works for being silent all this while. Pema well understood that the profession he was in demanded a lot more of his time then what were actually expected. But that does not meant that he completely forget about her, sometimes it would be weeks Pema wouldn’t even hear from him and for a girl being ignored was more hurting than anything else in the world. The feeling of not wanted was something a girl dreads always and Pema was just another ordinary girl. Sangay never understood her enough to care, it seemed to Pema.
It was face book that brought them together. From a simple chat to coffees, lunches and dinner. This was how Pema and Sangay started off. The beginning was beautiful unknown to Pema the stored pain with it which was due to split open any time. Just few months in to the relationship Pema started facing the painful twinge of having trusted someone who did not even care to keep in touch. Well for sometime distance did play a role in their relationship but it was always Pema who made the effort to keep the fire burning in their relationship despite the distance. Sangay was least bothered as always. And the worst part was he never made an effort to let Pema know if at all the relationship was still on. Pema was in a bond which was being out rightly ignored and unwanted.
Pema now loathed face book for the soreness it had brought along, the same face book she had been so grateful for bringing Sangay to her.
Keeping a stone in her heart, Pema finally decided to confront him and end the relationship if need be. Well it was not a surprise when Sangay so readily agreed with her which was even more hurting.
so this is just another of Face book couple who broke up out of thousands who are yet to experience the beauty and the ugliness of love, relationship and of course face book.
Moral: If you love someone, you better PROVE it. Because LOVE is not a noun to be define, but a verb to be acted upon.

PS: it’s a story I have heard from one of my friend and she says it’s her friend’s story, the names have been changed though.