Saturday, 28 November 2009
Doma that spits authority
The village magistrate sat on a throne, which resembled a miniature hilltop, and him like some proverbial deity, on it.
Somewhere below, which probably would remind you of a vast valley, stood, similar to a dot, our hero with his kabney on.
On this particular day, our hero had frightful back pain, and in an ill-fated turn of events, our deity on the hilltop noticed it with no uncertain terms that our hero was not bowing to him in a way of respect.
This triggered the wrath of the deity on the hilltop that our hero could literally count the doma spits liberating out of the hilltop deity.
This doma that spits of authority now lay all over the place.
Of course, the distance between our characters was some light-years away, but our hero had that gift of an extraordinary vision that he could account for all the remains of doma that came out of the doma-stained mouth of our hilltop deity.
For the first few moments, he exactly counted the doma dregs to what we usually refer to as number thirty. As the world has it, upon continual repetition, we lose interest in even the most interesting things in life that; our hero stopped counting the fragments emanating from our deity.
“So, it was your cow?” fumed our hilltop deity.
Before our hero could answer, a few doma spits landed safely on his extended forehead, which had receded harshly over time.
“Yes, your honor” was all he could manage than a new batch of doma had landed on his nose, which accommodated quite a hefty amount of it.
From the corner of our hero’s eyes, he saw the hilltop deity refill his authority, this time with a bigger nut and a large leaf of pan, on which, lime was carelessly spread over.
“Why is your cow without any manners?” our magistrate challenged.
“Didn’t it pay you its respect, my lord” came at the tip of our hero’s tongue, out of his innocence, but he calculated not to speak it aloud.
Sometimes, it doesn’t pay off to be stupid.
Instead, he humbled down with “I deeply apologize for my cow’s ill manners”
“Yeah, ill manners! You say it right! Shitting all over the place!”
The cow had started acting weird and erratic in the last few days, our hero agreed, with it shitting all over the place.
Just a few days before the magistrate had issued orders to summon our hero in the court, the cow had shat frantically all over the place in the village.
This, in a way, had challenged the hilltop deity at length to his doma-spitting expeditions!
“You shall clean the village of your cow’s excretion within one day” and the court was adjourned abruptly.
The hilltop deity, with doma spits that came shooting at our hero, employed fewer words with more authority again.
Our hero walked out of the courtroom with more cleaning to be done on his bearing than the village of his cow’s shit!
Somewhere below, which probably would remind you of a vast valley, stood, similar to a dot, our hero with his kabney on.
On this particular day, our hero had frightful back pain, and in an ill-fated turn of events, our deity on the hilltop noticed it with no uncertain terms that our hero was not bowing to him in a way of respect.
This triggered the wrath of the deity on the hilltop that our hero could literally count the doma spits liberating out of the hilltop deity.
This doma that spits of authority now lay all over the place.
Of course, the distance between our characters was some light-years away, but our hero had that gift of an extraordinary vision that he could account for all the remains of doma that came out of the doma-stained mouth of our hilltop deity.
For the first few moments, he exactly counted the doma dregs to what we usually refer to as number thirty. As the world has it, upon continual repetition, we lose interest in even the most interesting things in life that; our hero stopped counting the fragments emanating from our deity.
“So, it was your cow?” fumed our hilltop deity.
Before our hero could answer, a few doma spits landed safely on his extended forehead, which had receded harshly over time.
“Yes, your honor” was all he could manage than a new batch of doma had landed on his nose, which accommodated quite a hefty amount of it.
From the corner of our hero’s eyes, he saw the hilltop deity refill his authority, this time with a bigger nut and a large leaf of pan, on which, lime was carelessly spread over.
“Why is your cow without any manners?” our magistrate challenged.
“Didn’t it pay you its respect, my lord” came at the tip of our hero’s tongue, out of his innocence, but he calculated not to speak it aloud.
Sometimes, it doesn’t pay off to be stupid.
Instead, he humbled down with “I deeply apologize for my cow’s ill manners”
“Yeah, ill manners! You say it right! Shitting all over the place!”
The cow had started acting weird and erratic in the last few days, our hero agreed, with it shitting all over the place.
Just a few days before the magistrate had issued orders to summon our hero in the court, the cow had shat frantically all over the place in the village.
This, in a way, had challenged the hilltop deity at length to his doma-spitting expeditions!
“You shall clean the village of your cow’s excretion within one day” and the court was adjourned abruptly.
The hilltop deity, with doma spits that came shooting at our hero, employed fewer words with more authority again.
Our hero walked out of the courtroom with more cleaning to be done on his bearing than the village of his cow’s shit!
Friday, 27 November 2009
Memories of Love
Do you believe in things you can't have?
I had those rare feelings of knowledge
The first time I saw you, but
How cruel 'that' knowledge seems
If I hadn't promised 'that' one thing
No, you wouldn't want me still...
I wonder...
Is this coincidence?
To mix my thoughts and life with love
This love for you, those rare feelings..?
But a life of coincidences prevails
I took my time this morning
I didn't want to be early
Someone asked how I felt
I said I didn't feel anything
There was a stone in place of my heart
The shortcoming of looking for love…
I walk in, feel the same loneliness
But nothing will ever be the same again
I want to identify love
I am not sure I am short of that
I am not even sure if I like love
But it had to stop for sometime
Pain is easy to write
Joy, yet harder to express somewhere
And love never ends
Does it?
This has been the cruelest month, mixing
Love with failure, but
In autumn, I may feel free
If it is real love,
I may find an answer...
I had those rare feelings of knowledge
The first time I saw you, but
How cruel 'that' knowledge seems
If I hadn't promised 'that' one thing
No, you wouldn't want me still...
I wonder...
Is this coincidence?
To mix my thoughts and life with love
This love for you, those rare feelings..?
But a life of coincidences prevails
I took my time this morning
I didn't want to be early
Someone asked how I felt
I said I didn't feel anything
There was a stone in place of my heart
The shortcoming of looking for love…
I walk in, feel the same loneliness
But nothing will ever be the same again
I want to identify love
I am not sure I am short of that
I am not even sure if I like love
But it had to stop for sometime
Pain is easy to write
Joy, yet harder to express somewhere
And love never ends
Does it?
This has been the cruelest month, mixing
Love with failure, but
In autumn, I may feel free
If it is real love,
I may find an answer...
Marriage, GNH and Democracy (From the dairy of ¨Nobody¨)
I am a pretty normal bachelor, for the most part, in the capital city of Thimphu.
However, a few days back, my father paid me a visit, traveling two nights and three days from the village. And he has claimed that the village Gup gave a sermon (But what I feel is that it must have been one of those Gup talks) on Gross National Happiness. Now, my father urges me I should get married right away reinforcing it’s a matter of the state—a piece of advice that I am never able to take in favorably, along with GNH. Blame Thimphu girls for the former, Gross National Equal-ness for the latter. (To be happy, everyone should be equal, once my colleague had pointed out, which still rings in my head frightfully). The Gup had convinced the villagers to achieve the philosophy of GNH, every bachelor should be married.
My father thus had the wisdom to say, “I don’t understand how you keep yourself happy without a girl in your life”.
“In my time, a young man like you would be fathering a few kids, equally happy each night!” Later I learned it was this point he was trying to drive home. (A man has to drive home points!).
Fathers!
Talking about happiness, “Thank you, thank you!”, a girl had blurted out so many times, crying happily over the spoils, during one of those nights, and during another night I had seen policemen outside discotheques being conducted with beer (for free) since they were cold and angry with the club proprietor for not letting them take a few girls with them (for GNH?). I even heard one of them say,
“Only that we are on duty, we drink this fast, but if time had allowed us, we would have enjoyed the luxury of sipping the beer at the most minimal speed”. I sympathized with them after they had made their point with the beer, drowning it in a big gulp. Later I learned it was a genuine issue. An issue of time is the greatest of issues! (And a man has to sympathize).
“You have to get married before 2008 because I don’t have any power over you after that. We are going democratic”, my father said.
Well, this gup guy really has sensitized the people on GNH and democracy, not to mention the institution of marriage!
The Gup has torn me between marriage, GNH, and democracy now. A man can handle two, but three massive concepts and implement them? Close to impossible or not at all!
I have finally decided to write to the gup and appeal to him. I will try to talk him out of this marriage thing until 2008. And I have plans to read on GNH and Democracy too. (A man has to try!).
However, a few days back, my father paid me a visit, traveling two nights and three days from the village. And he has claimed that the village Gup gave a sermon (But what I feel is that it must have been one of those Gup talks) on Gross National Happiness. Now, my father urges me I should get married right away reinforcing it’s a matter of the state—a piece of advice that I am never able to take in favorably, along with GNH. Blame Thimphu girls for the former, Gross National Equal-ness for the latter. (To be happy, everyone should be equal, once my colleague had pointed out, which still rings in my head frightfully). The Gup had convinced the villagers to achieve the philosophy of GNH, every bachelor should be married.
My father thus had the wisdom to say, “I don’t understand how you keep yourself happy without a girl in your life”.
“In my time, a young man like you would be fathering a few kids, equally happy each night!” Later I learned it was this point he was trying to drive home. (A man has to drive home points!).
Fathers!
Talking about happiness, “Thank you, thank you!”, a girl had blurted out so many times, crying happily over the spoils, during one of those nights, and during another night I had seen policemen outside discotheques being conducted with beer (for free) since they were cold and angry with the club proprietor for not letting them take a few girls with them (for GNH?). I even heard one of them say,
“Only that we are on duty, we drink this fast, but if time had allowed us, we would have enjoyed the luxury of sipping the beer at the most minimal speed”. I sympathized with them after they had made their point with the beer, drowning it in a big gulp. Later I learned it was a genuine issue. An issue of time is the greatest of issues! (And a man has to sympathize).
“You have to get married before 2008 because I don’t have any power over you after that. We are going democratic”, my father said.
Well, this gup guy really has sensitized the people on GNH and democracy, not to mention the institution of marriage!
The Gup has torn me between marriage, GNH, and democracy now. A man can handle two, but three massive concepts and implement them? Close to impossible or not at all!
I have finally decided to write to the gup and appeal to him. I will try to talk him out of this marriage thing until 2008. And I have plans to read on GNH and Democracy too. (A man has to try!).
Thursday, 26 November 2009
God-Fearing, Self-Respecting Thimphu Citizenry
It was seven O’clock and at this time of the evening, the streets of Thimphu were illumed by different colors of light and the Thimphu populace moved in a zombie trance, the purpose of which was hard for an average intellect to pin down coherently.
Our hero, Tashi, resembled the crowd in the respects of zombie movement but he moved past the only movie theatre in the city with quick steps. The legendary movie hall is said to house Nilkamal plastic chairs and mosquitoes enough to suck a single viewer down to skins (keeping in mind, mosquitoes are not interested in bones). Rumor has it that a doctor while watching a premiere once remarked “The infesters here in the theatre could put the blood bank in the national referral hospital to shame!” And the doctor never went near the theatre in the future, not because he disliked the movies shown there, but for the fear of mosquitoes loitering freely in the hall. (I even heard he drafted a letter requesting the people responsible for traffic rules to make stringent laws for the traffic to be followed by the mosquitoes there. The responsible people are busy discussing this issue at the policy level, which is consuming most of their waking hours. The traffic issues in Thimphu can wait).
And thus, our hero passed the theatre unhurt. He heaved a sigh of blatant relief once he approached a nearby Pan Shop. As is the trend, he pulled down his voice to a mere whisper and snorted, “Four pieces of Wills cigarettes please” handing over a twenty ngultrum bill.
The tobacco business in the country has shot up since the ban on tobacco was imposed by the government. And even, the ban on tobacco has made the public more gentle and whispery. The twofold upside of the ban- good business and gentle citizens!
The flip side of the ban on tobacco products is best left undiscussed here.
The aum in the Pan Shop did a ritual latest to its fashion but in such dexterity that Tashi wouldn’t have noticed it if he was a new buyer to the product. The aum, pulled from under her armpit a packet of cigarettes, chanted “Om Mani Padme Hung” which came so naturally to her; pulled out four pieces, and handed them over to Tashi nonchalantly. The natural chanting of the aum raised doubts in Tashi if it was a holy-day. But then, he waved away the doubt keeping in mind, Bhutanese are god-fearing people, and those “Om Mani Padme Hung” should come naturally to the Bhutanese citizenry.
From the corner of the town where he bought the cigarettes, Tashi moved into the main street, lighted a cigarette and started smoking near some policemen, already having forgotten the aum in the shop and her chants. And such is the quickness of man’s forgetfulness which can only be attributed to too many things looming in his thoughts. And his thoughts were full of beer- and many bottles of them too.
The next moment saw Tashi negotiating traffic, nearly hitting a car in Brownian motion but he was glad enough to hear someone in the car just shout “Jedha, Watch where you are going!” and he disappeared into what looked like a bar. In the bar, like every self-respecting Bhutanese, he took to frightful drinking long into the night!
Our hero, Tashi, resembled the crowd in the respects of zombie movement but he moved past the only movie theatre in the city with quick steps. The legendary movie hall is said to house Nilkamal plastic chairs and mosquitoes enough to suck a single viewer down to skins (keeping in mind, mosquitoes are not interested in bones). Rumor has it that a doctor while watching a premiere once remarked “The infesters here in the theatre could put the blood bank in the national referral hospital to shame!” And the doctor never went near the theatre in the future, not because he disliked the movies shown there, but for the fear of mosquitoes loitering freely in the hall. (I even heard he drafted a letter requesting the people responsible for traffic rules to make stringent laws for the traffic to be followed by the mosquitoes there. The responsible people are busy discussing this issue at the policy level, which is consuming most of their waking hours. The traffic issues in Thimphu can wait).
And thus, our hero passed the theatre unhurt. He heaved a sigh of blatant relief once he approached a nearby Pan Shop. As is the trend, he pulled down his voice to a mere whisper and snorted, “Four pieces of Wills cigarettes please” handing over a twenty ngultrum bill.
The tobacco business in the country has shot up since the ban on tobacco was imposed by the government. And even, the ban on tobacco has made the public more gentle and whispery. The twofold upside of the ban- good business and gentle citizens!
The flip side of the ban on tobacco products is best left undiscussed here.
The aum in the Pan Shop did a ritual latest to its fashion but in such dexterity that Tashi wouldn’t have noticed it if he was a new buyer to the product. The aum, pulled from under her armpit a packet of cigarettes, chanted “Om Mani Padme Hung” which came so naturally to her; pulled out four pieces, and handed them over to Tashi nonchalantly. The natural chanting of the aum raised doubts in Tashi if it was a holy-day. But then, he waved away the doubt keeping in mind, Bhutanese are god-fearing people, and those “Om Mani Padme Hung” should come naturally to the Bhutanese citizenry.
From the corner of the town where he bought the cigarettes, Tashi moved into the main street, lighted a cigarette and started smoking near some policemen, already having forgotten the aum in the shop and her chants. And such is the quickness of man’s forgetfulness which can only be attributed to too many things looming in his thoughts. And his thoughts were full of beer- and many bottles of them too.
The next moment saw Tashi negotiating traffic, nearly hitting a car in Brownian motion but he was glad enough to hear someone in the car just shout “Jedha, Watch where you are going!” and he disappeared into what looked like a bar. In the bar, like every self-respecting Bhutanese, he took to frightful drinking long into the night!
Tenzin's Peach Trees
Peach trees blooming everywhere;
I fell asleep on my desk;
Not a darn thing to worry about;
I lay there, like a dead log
Lumbering over my work desk;
Spring is here, at last!
I fell asleep on my desk;
Not a darn thing to worry about;
I lay there, like a dead log
Lumbering over my work desk;
Spring is here, at last!
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Sin Is Moist- A Moist Song!
These moist chops of sin: the receptor of egos, of sizes huge and small, agape yearning for more.
You started with one and, following one, more.
You have tamed self-esteem, waged wars, disjointed nations, crushed globes, and played moist, of all…
A man is born from one and dies hunting after one.
You come in all aromas: one that is delightful, and the worst that smells of brimstone and lime.
You reek of death.
The world has lost many in your lips.
You give lives…
The globes at your base have suffered much…
Grinding lives, sweating at their very roots, have men burnt their midnight toils.
Hermits’ give up their robes, brewing sins, to your moist throbbing,
Save alone a few high incarnates!
Ordinary men-folk diabolically kills them for you, you that sin is moist!
You come in all sizes, floppy, tight, and ones, which are not floppy and not tight.
You manifest yourself in pink, dark, and blue hues.
The worst comes in pale insignias.
Some bestow warmth. Rests are as cold as death.
You perpetrator of breeding necessary to humankind-
That you are
Sin is moist!
You started with one and, following one, more.
You have tamed self-esteem, waged wars, disjointed nations, crushed globes, and played moist, of all…
A man is born from one and dies hunting after one.
You come in all aromas: one that is delightful, and the worst that smells of brimstone and lime.
You reek of death.
The world has lost many in your lips.
You give lives…
The globes at your base have suffered much…
Grinding lives, sweating at their very roots, have men burnt their midnight toils.
Hermits’ give up their robes, brewing sins, to your moist throbbing,
Save alone a few high incarnates!
Ordinary men-folk diabolically kills them for you, you that sin is moist!
You come in all sizes, floppy, tight, and ones, which are not floppy and not tight.
You manifest yourself in pink, dark, and blue hues.
The worst comes in pale insignias.
Some bestow warmth. Rests are as cold as death.
You perpetrator of breeding necessary to humankind-
That you are
Sin is moist!
Friday, 20 November 2009
Love and a cup of ara
Alone
And deep into the night,
When reason meets insanity,
You long
For times gone.
A face draws beautifully
To your imagination;
Your sorry solace.
A cup of ara on the table
And memories of a beautiful past.
You take a sip from the cup;
Only to burn your inner self.
Another sip, another thought...
You draw semblance in love and ara:
Its funny how you try forgetting
Only to remember
And miss it more...
You retire
To a reverie of the most exciting thoughts: -
Thoughts of a singular lovely face.
Love and ara,
Locked in a dead grip:
Your weakness.
A tear drop grazes your cheek,
The joys of heaven,
You reason.
Deep within,
Chained to your nature,
Your thoughts in trains are
But
Just a subject,
Subject to your delusions of love.
You love
Only to employ feelings of indifference.
You drink
Only to thrist for more.
You see
As far as your dreams.
The rest
Is oblivion .
Slowly
Your senses draw a vague picture
A picture of you
And a picture of her
Now,
Silently and surely,
You drift
Drift away
To the other side.
Life is beautiful there,
Love abundant.
There
She is yours.
Here,
She is
But just your dream
Another sip from the cup
Heaven sweetness
This ara in a cup
Drift.. drift..
Dreams...
And deep into the night,
When reason meets insanity,
You long
For times gone.
A face draws beautifully
To your imagination;
Your sorry solace.
A cup of ara on the table
And memories of a beautiful past.
You take a sip from the cup;
Only to burn your inner self.
Another sip, another thought...
You draw semblance in love and ara:
Its funny how you try forgetting
Only to remember
And miss it more...
You retire
To a reverie of the most exciting thoughts: -
Thoughts of a singular lovely face.
Love and ara,
Locked in a dead grip:
Your weakness.
A tear drop grazes your cheek,
The joys of heaven,
You reason.
Deep within,
Chained to your nature,
Your thoughts in trains are
But
Just a subject,
Subject to your delusions of love.
You love
Only to employ feelings of indifference.
You drink
Only to thrist for more.
You see
As far as your dreams.
The rest
Is oblivion .
Slowly
Your senses draw a vague picture
A picture of you
And a picture of her
Now,
Silently and surely,
You drift
Drift away
To the other side.
Life is beautiful there,
Love abundant.
There
She is yours.
Here,
She is
But just your dream
Another sip from the cup
Heaven sweetness
This ara in a cup
Drift.. drift..
Dreams...
Cherry Blossoms Of My Thoughts
Down by the river
On, and across the dark rocks
Drops of life
In full beauty,
Now with spring
The cherries blossom
In the thickets of the streets
Along the hopes of time
I walk…
Looking for a familiar face
In the crowd, you stand
Among the cherry blossoms of my thoughts
Now, beside a barren tree,
I rest
Basking in your love.
Cherry blossom in the air
Beauty against the wind of times
To love is transporting
Beautiful, but hurting
Painful, yet not lasting
Here, but ever changing
Will we ever die?
And forever live?
Passing thoughts, pressing moments
Moving crowds, falling blossoms
Rising hopes, dying reality
But, for now
In the spring of hopes,
In the blossom of flowers,
In the dew drops of mornings,
In bosom of your warm thoughts
Life moves on, ever beautiful…
On, and across the dark rocks
Drops of life
In full beauty,
Now with spring
The cherries blossom
In the thickets of the streets
Along the hopes of time
I walk…
Looking for a familiar face
In the crowd, you stand
Among the cherry blossoms of my thoughts
Now, beside a barren tree,
I rest
Basking in your love.
Cherry blossom in the air
Beauty against the wind of times
To love is transporting
Beautiful, but hurting
Painful, yet not lasting
Here, but ever changing
Will we ever die?
And forever live?
Passing thoughts, pressing moments
Moving crowds, falling blossoms
Rising hopes, dying reality
But, for now
In the spring of hopes,
In the blossom of flowers,
In the dew drops of mornings,
In bosom of your warm thoughts
Life moves on, ever beautiful…
Thursday, 19 November 2009
There You Go Again...
There you go again...
With that murky face
Have you no respect for life?
For fun, of smiles?
There you go again...
With that murky face
For the love of mirth;
Gently, peel off your face
There you go again....
That you have lost your face;
I smile...
With that murky face
Have you no respect for life?
For fun, of smiles?
There you go again...
With that murky face
For the love of mirth;
Gently, peel off your face
There you go again....
That you have lost your face;
I smile...
Where Are My Knees?
Where are my knees?
I try, I try... Hem of my skirt-length dress drops at the top of my knee is all I can see, but I cant feel a thing. My knees are non-existent, by feeling.
Some blame the wintry Thimphu cold, some their ancestors. But we take the blunt of it all, the anger of the seasons and the mistake of our ancestors.
How long, before we can keep our knees warm without shame? How long, before we can feel and see our knees in winter?
The answer still awaits my bleating prayers and ice-cold knees!
I try, I try... Hem of my skirt-length dress drops at the top of my knee is all I can see, but I cant feel a thing. My knees are non-existent, by feeling.
Some blame the wintry Thimphu cold, some their ancestors. But we take the blunt of it all, the anger of the seasons and the mistake of our ancestors.
How long, before we can keep our knees warm without shame? How long, before we can feel and see our knees in winter?
The answer still awaits my bleating prayers and ice-cold knees!
Words- Whipping and Nurturing
Building blocks of language...
The articulatory speech of thoughts that defines me, you and the environment so well is communicated through these building blocks.
In words, we live. Without them, we are fading shadows.
Beauty be words;- whipping and nurturing at our wits!
The articulatory speech of thoughts that defines me, you and the environment so well is communicated through these building blocks.
In words, we live. Without them, we are fading shadows.
Beauty be words;- whipping and nurturing at our wits!
Sunday, 1 November 2009
MY PLACEMENT WAS A CITY NAMED DURGAPUR
A letter of placement at the then Regional Engineering College, Durgapur, came through the office of the Royal Civil Service Commission in September, 2001. It was quite thrilling to learn about the confirmation of placement after having waited for a long time. It was learnt that nine of us were placed at the same Regional College. The prospect of reaping unfathomable experience over the next four years in the college, learning newer knowledge and skills, amongst new friends and environment kept us fully occupied during our journey towards the college.
The very first trip onward the reputed college at Durgapur via Kolkota without proper itinerary, guide and schedule was not so pleasant, though memories would languish itself in funny recollection of our destitutions. Moreover, none of us had traveled to the city before. The endless hours of waiting at the Howrah train station was more menacing than being cheated by the taxi drivers.
Having waited for more than five hours, we left Howrah for Durgapur, a new home to the new scholars and the whole new nine of us. The change of transportation mode from bus to train said it all! Life in India would not be the same as in Bhutan.
Night was falling like dark shroud over the unfamiliar and unfriendly landscape as we reached Durgapur train station. We reached the college clothed in strange darkness. It was not the darkness that petrified us. Darkness is so trivial at times than having no place to bask our tiredness after the much needed rest. At long length, we succeeded in requesting the warden to adjust some rooms for us, since it was not possible to allot any room (officially!) on the simple ground that we were not admitted to the college (formally!).
So, the eight future Bhutanese engineers were literally dumped into a seemingly tiny room that would not even accommodate the three of us under normal circumstances. Soon enough, the alien Indian heat started taking charge, making us sweat like guinea pigs! Everything passed on, we still sweated. Experience was taking an unusual twist.
There was a solemn feeling that the next day would usher us into our own rooms, which was not to be! Our admission was yet to be formalized. Our letters of appointment had not reached the college, which was supposed to be forwarded by the Ministry of External Affairs, Govt. of India. Much to our bewilderment, the aspiring scholars were as good as tourists to the college until we were formally sworn into the Durgapur alma mater after three days. It took them another week to decide on allocating us rooms with creaky beds and fans that seldom worked. But, it was an experience of relief, joy, and of fulfillment in having finally formalized and officialized our admission into the college.
Food would have inspired any poet and writer to praise the taste and nourishment it provides besides the glutton to be greedy. However, the food at the deemed University did not provide delicacies worth the taste let alone the inspiration to the poets and the gluttons their greediness. None of the Bhutanese were used to mixing sweets and sugar into any of our menus, let alone tea and coffee.
As days and weeks and months and years rolled by, experience piled up in our memories, trimming our knowledge of how we know the world and how it should be known.
The heat that surrounded us, the putrid air that we breathed, the mosquitoes that we nourished, the creaky beds we slept on under the defunct fans, and the sugary food that we nourished on…brought us closer to reality, making us more humane. Every experience and difficulty that we underwent brought us closer to ourselves and to our country. Patriotism would only be experienced at its height away from home. Realization would only be drawn from suffering and endurance. Knowledge would only be acquired in times of adversity.
Indeed so, the difficulties that we faced and endured during our stay at the college have paid off well. We saw the Regional Engineering College grow with us, becoming one of the best institutes in the state of West Bengal. It was upgraded to the National Institute of Technology, a deemed university, ranked as one of the lead institutes of the state, second only to the famed and reputed Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur.
As we acquired newer knowledge, the Institute itself was undergoing progressive changes. With a total grant of more than 50 crores by the World Bank, new and sophisticated infrastructures that would meet the modern amenities are being developed. It is my hope that more Bhutanese would be placed in the institute, and continues producing the makers of tomorrow.
PRAYERS
Having gained a little experience in a neighbouring country, it is my hope, wish and prayers that the quality of education of our country would not deteriorate with the new breed of scholars and intellectuals sprouting in our emerging education system. It is my hope that the future citizens of the country would gain equal or more access to quality education, whereby the future of our country must ultimately rely on.
REPORT ON DURGAPOREAN GET_TOGETHER II
(Nothing is permanent, not even broken hearts!)
Date: 6th October 2007
Venue: Lovely restaurant, Thimphu
Present, in alphabetical order:
1. Chabilal Bastola, ICT Officer, DIT (Single)
2. Deewakar Chhetri, IN Engineer, BMobile (Single)
3. Heruka Zangpo, Manager, CMTD, BPC (Taken)
4. Karma Wangchuk, Engineer, DCA (Devdas)
5. Singay Dorji, Chief Electrical Engineer, HTMTI (Single)
6. Sonam Phuntsho, ICT Officer, DIT (Single)
7. Sonam Tshering, Trainee Engineer, Druk Air (Engaged)
8. Tenzin Dendup, ICT Officer, DIT (Totally Single)
Missing:
1. Hari Prasad Kafley, MBA Student
2. Sangay Dema, Engineer, Bhutan Telecom
3. Tsheten Dorji, Lecturer, CST, RUB
4. Yam Bahadur Chhetri, Engineer, Bangalore
Guests:
1. Dechen Yangzom
2. Kesang Norden Deker
3. Dr Kezang Dorji
4. Tashi
Binary (On-Off) Guests:
1. Jigme Lhendup
2. Tseten
3. Tshering Wangchuk
Special Appearance:
1. Dr Phub
2. Dr Kelex
There was no rain this time, at least when the group started gathering. But later into the evening, the rain of flowers started, indicating Heaven and Earth were in perfect union, for the graduates of Durgapur 2005 and 2006 had gathered.
And, in so wet an evening, the room where the graduates had gathered was so dry that everyone could feel the crappiness of it on their lips that someone was screamingly found hissing, “Satan damn-it! Lip guards!” in a way of searching for an antidote in complete serpent-ness (what ever that may mean!). On further investigation (by a team of three), the dryness was tracked down to have emanated from, and administered by the Sofa-men (so named by the virtue of their ass-on-sofa settlement), Sonam Senior and Karma Junior, brutally known for their never ending slapstick dry talks, named Dry Gadpus, in short.
By then, the group had gained momentum, keeping in mind one of those famous Newtonian laws which is forgotten for good, saving me from quoting it here.
Like the previous gathering of that memorable 14th September, the innumerable bottles of “Fosters’ and “Hits” had already made their presence, only difference lying in that, no one had growled down to those suggestions. Only when the suggestions for “Spy Juice” cropped up, then were the real presences of the two lovely ladies felt, sweeping the faces of the crowned lusers (dictionary spelling “losers”) warm and leaving them pink for a few hours that followed. Heruka and Singay were saved of that pink hue, since the ladies came in their capacities, either as their dates or guests. So had the evening progressed thus, shy but equally entertaining!
After an hour of the gathering, Sonam Senior attempted to deliver a welcome speech, but so hopeless it turned out that he was found delivering the speech in quotas. And these quotas were executed every next hour from the first. In between these quotas, Heruka found in his managerial wisdom to exercise his speech-delivering prowess since he had a shaming experience back at his office in the audience of his Managing Director, where his thoughts bounced back to its basics, and the poor Manager was found mumbling those famous tooth-in-mouth lines “I believe…..” followed by that welling effect of the tears in the eyes, since his mind was observing emptiness! In line to this, Singay was picked up by the group to deliver a “Vote of Thanks” speech to reiterate that of Heruka’s, since he was absent when Heruka delivered his speech. Poor Singay couldn’t figure out head or tail of the situation, and was duly forgiven for his ignorance.
In an attempt to add meaning to the entertainment, Heruka discovered a game which, he thought, would make the grave of the inventor shake, and the heart of the players’ crack, which indeed did, for someone! With its simplistic rules, “Truth and Dare” was the game of the evening.
“Truth or Dare?” pleaded Sonam Junior with Deewakar. “Truth” blurted out Deewakar and he was fired with questions! “How many pondies did you watch so far” was the bullet of the minute. The man under fire mumbled “One Thousand…” the accuracy to which was further drilled and doubted, and the next shot was fired in the likes of “Which one is the best so far?” “Recommend me a good pondi flick” and so on and so like. Soon Sonam Junior was found obnoxious with his questions. Finally when Deewakar heaved a sigh of blatant relief, he had chosen the next victim for the game.
“Truth or Dare?” and Karma dryly chose to tell some truth. “Tell us the full-proof truth of Devdassic journey you are embarking on these days” “Tell us the name of this beauty you so gave into becoming a Devdas” “Is this why you jumped into poetic hibernation and musing?” so on and so forth…
Karma, full name Karma Wangchuk, or infamously known as Zala to the greater public, had traveled some 50+ odd kilometers from Paro to attend this get-together with Chindey Sonam Tshering (referred to as Sonam Junior) and their guest Tashi. Tashi was favorably chosen as their guest by the virtue of his owning a car, which made transportation way easy than they fathomed. Realities apart, Karma got down to giving answers to the truthful questions which sounded to the ears of the gathering as follows:
The name of the beauty is Yangchen, and it was few months back that this beauty screwed up my sanity. If it was not for her getting married with someone else, things would have been much easier; I would have tried my zala-best to earn the name of a serial rejected! As the way was clearly paved for me to stand as the candidacy for the next abbot, filling in for a post of a Devdas, I happily drank my days to desperation. Yes poems, the curator of a broken heart, are the only good things that is left of a man, who is deserted with marked rejections!
And the man was happily seen covering his face, out of respect for the seat of the abbot.
Rejections!
“Truth” demanded Sonam Senior. “Why did you go to Taba yesterday?” “Tell us this story between you and Dawa, in detail!”, and he was found hunting for cover!
Sonam Senior had to take a few paces back in his memory lane to gain complete control of the matters at hand. Before that, he answered the simplest of questions:
“I went to Taba because I think I have a girl friend there”, and the gathering bought it, albeit the loser-nature of this specimen.
Regarding the dear Dawa question, he told stories that had its roots in the year 2004. He informed the gathering of that fateful year, of challenges he had undertaken, where he had dared dear Dawa that he would make her fall in love with him, by the end of December 2004 failing to manifest which, would accrue him in buying her a giant teddy bear as a bet.
Falling in love never happened, so did the buying of a giant teddy. Time moved on, even Sonam couldn’t stop it! He proposed. She rejected. The trend carried on. Even dear Dawa couldn’t stop him from proposing. It flowed like his blood, these proposals!
The failure nature of this man had been long proven in his Engineering days with a first semester Physics paper, PH101, where he had attempted, in his acts of clearing it, few trudging times! So this new failure in love didn’t come as a surprise, but it was more of a testimony to his success in serial failing. This man was sworn in, in the hard disks and processors of the gathering, as a sack of failures and, that boy, Tenzin respected him in the form of a root Guru!
This Tenzin!
Singay had decided to vote for “Truth” keeping in mind the political developments in the country. But the questions that followed were far removed from it (Politics) than he had expected! “How did you feel when Sangay Dema left you?” “How did you feel when Sangay got married?” and suchlike questions.
So many HOW-DID questions and the man felt as if a few quintals of bad memories had been dropped on his back. The weight was too much for the man to take that he had to release it one after another.
He truly confessed that he went through a bad patch in his life when she left him, but it was all over now. And by the time Sangay got married, he had become insensitive towards the feelings he had for her once.
Life is a Brute!
Sonam Junior, who had also traveled those 50+ odd kilometers from Paro on Tashi’s Alto to attend the gathering for the first time, was literally all chindey. No community of society was residing on his head, which is commonly known to humankind as “hair”.
In the run-through of the “Truth” questions, the man was drunkenly heard answering “I am not gay, but I am gay!” whatever that meant, the ladies present didn’t seem too impressed! And people doubted if he had cleared the top floor in observing his hopelessness in the matters of love but to the utter dismay of the gathering, he said he was engaged to be married. What ever the reasons may be, the light really reflected strongly on his shaved shiny head. In his final attempts to impress the ladies’ present, he was seen throwing two fingers at the ladies and shouting miserably “I am not gay, but I am gay!” Such intoxication of drinks can really waste a man, and he was really stoned to misery!
Gays!
Dr Kezang rode on “Truth”. Sensitizing the gathering on AIDS, he educated the group that it was caused due to three infamous acts of humankind: Drugs through syringe penetration, rectal and normal sex. Although, normal sex contributed to only 10%, he refrained the gathering from indulging in any rectal acts since it was the surest way of getting Aids.
Who would have guessed our rectums were already inflicted with AIDS!
AIDS is rectal, people!
And Sonam Junior left the room excusing himself by saying he needed to pee like a horse!
Somewhere between the gathering, as soon as Jigme and Tsheten had entered, they had gulped down a bottle of beer and had disappeared without any trace! People wondered if they really had made their presence but, they were saved from more investigation by the empty bottle that they had left back.
The choice “Truth” followed questions like “Tenzin, if you were to die tomorrow, what Cartoon movie would you watch?” “What Character in the movie would you be if situation so demanded?”
And that boy Tenzin so wanted to watch that animated movie “Shrek” before he died and he wanted to be a Princess in the movie, if fate had so favored, since he liked that ogre of a Shrek so much! He even flipped his eyelids so daintily, and my Frog(!), people nearly mistook him for a Princess!
“Truth” and Norden was inquired about the welfare of her heart. And she confirmed the gathering that it was fine by and by. One saw her eyes twinkle, and Tenzin’s long said words metamorphosed something close to : Nothing is permanent, not even broken hearts!
“Truth” “Truth” “Truth”. Everyone was in the truth that it seemed the whole world had truly conspired against the liars! As an administrator of the game, Heruka found in his wits to promote people take up more daring acts, and a round of “Dare” demands were implemented.
Heruka dared, and people demanded of him actions!
“Heruka, kindly drain that big glass of beer” and down went the beer along his beer pipe. He turned a pitch darker in complexion after that.
“Heruka, kindly turn to the lovely lady sitting beside you and propose your true feelings” and left-turned Heruka, and blurted out “I can do this!” and said “I really love you” focusing his eyes on the ceiling which nearly bore a hole there, followed by a change in his complexion from pitch dark to a mixture of bluish hue. Too much for the “Truth and Dare” game, it would seem, but the man already had disposals of glass of beer in his contributing stomach, and a pretty face by his side!
Proposals!
In a string of daring acts, Karma was found demanded of a poem recital by the group, portrayal of true Devdas nature, a song which he succeeded in pulling out a line from his blasted memories and he finally ended up proposing the beauty residing by Heruka’s side, Norden.
Next was Sonam Junior in line, and he made such noises from his beer-fed mouth and his light shining head, he ended up having to marriagepropose to the pretty lady residing by Tenzin’s side, Dechen. Sonam’s act of proposing someone to marriage was so unique that, no one remembered to translate it into a photograph. He walked like a stiff stick to the pretty face in the waiting, placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezed them, and snorted “Will you marry me?” and walked back more drunk to his seat.
Norden was made to propose Karma due to his incessant requests of requiting the proposal thus called on some moments previously. She blessed him like a dove, and Karma ran out of his skins with joy! For a few moments, he forgot he was the serially rejected subject of our times.
Tashi was duly ushered to propose miss pretty parked beside Tenzin to exercise his daring acts! He did, and he really had dared!
Now, it was Deewakar yet again. He was pressed so hard to dare sing a song. It took him almost ages before he sang “I am a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world. Imagination; Life is your creation…..” And the song faded away. He had forgotten rest of the lyrics. Boy! Who would have imagined Deewakar in the Barbie world!? Not me, at least!
“We dare you show us your muscles!” and Chabilal Bastola, that man of a muscle shifted his place lest people failed to see his hairy bulk! He was really at his acts and people were starting to appreciate the bulk of those muscles when someone suddenly announced, “Eating time!” Unfortunately… he had to wrap up the show and fall in line for dinner. In fact, the whole gathering had to!
Dinner was self-served, and people like Sonam Senior and Chabilal Muscle found in complete favor to exercise their freedom that they were seen helping themselves to plenty and having dinner of a lifetime!
After dinner, that boy Tenzin so wanted to continue with the “Truth and Dare” game, but time had run short. It was Deewakar’s medicine time, and way past baby Chabilal’s bedtime. So they left home and rest of the gang proceeded to party the night away!
The gathering split into three groups, since there were only three horses at disposal, and headed towards Buzz Club. As they passed through Hongkong Market, car-eating dogs chased them like hell. The car nearly jumped out of its skin, and Dr Kezang was in due time to bring it back to form. It still gives the group goose bumps when they think about the night but, luckily, no damage had been done to the cars… We promise!
Once they reached the Buzz Club, they had to negotiate hard with a lady there who was strict to the bones! In the midst of it, it left members of the group wondering who had paid the entry fees. Some of the group members were pretty sure it wasn’t God who had paid, for sure.
God doesn’t party!
Once inside the discotheque, than were the group swept up in its endless summer. They encountered a hundred inscrutable characters and phenomena. It was as though an entire sea of butterflies had suddenly taken off into the air to hover in a shimmering cloud above the black beetles of the male sex. And this was too much for boy Tenzin to take in, for it was his first time; he had to gulp in great amounts of saliva to capture his monkey mind back to form.
Once he regained form, he encountered waists the like of which he had not seen even in his dreams: slender, narrow waists no thicker the neck of a bottle, on beholding which he respectfully stepped aside lest inadvertently he should jostle them with an impolite elbow; his heart was seized with timidity and fear lest a careless breath of his might snap those most exquisite work of art and nature. But he danced on, his baby steps!
Sonam Junior, Dr Kezang and a few others tried jostling the fat moths but they were being roughed up so bad, they fell back to their dancing zones. Heruka executed few of his shock dance steps to no effect, and Sonam maneuvered his age old century steps, and Singay, his R ‘n’ B steps. Everyone danced on. By the time, the gang had almost implemented “in the mind” best dance steps, the party had gotten over and they had to leave for home.
And deep into the night, Tenzin was found tossing on the bed, frightfully shouting in the mind “No more Linux, only girls!”
The thought was singular, he had just entered puberty…
Date: 6th October 2007
Venue: Lovely restaurant, Thimphu
Present, in alphabetical order:
1. Chabilal Bastola, ICT Officer, DIT (Single)
2. Deewakar Chhetri, IN Engineer, BMobile (Single)
3. Heruka Zangpo, Manager, CMTD, BPC (Taken)
4. Karma Wangchuk, Engineer, DCA (Devdas)
5. Singay Dorji, Chief Electrical Engineer, HTMTI (Single)
6. Sonam Phuntsho, ICT Officer, DIT (Single)
7. Sonam Tshering, Trainee Engineer, Druk Air (Engaged)
8. Tenzin Dendup, ICT Officer, DIT (Totally Single)
Missing:
1. Hari Prasad Kafley, MBA Student
2. Sangay Dema, Engineer, Bhutan Telecom
3. Tsheten Dorji, Lecturer, CST, RUB
4. Yam Bahadur Chhetri, Engineer, Bangalore
Guests:
1. Dechen Yangzom
2. Kesang Norden Deker
3. Dr Kezang Dorji
4. Tashi
Binary (On-Off) Guests:
1. Jigme Lhendup
2. Tseten
3. Tshering Wangchuk
Special Appearance:
1. Dr Phub
2. Dr Kelex
There was no rain this time, at least when the group started gathering. But later into the evening, the rain of flowers started, indicating Heaven and Earth were in perfect union, for the graduates of Durgapur 2005 and 2006 had gathered.
And, in so wet an evening, the room where the graduates had gathered was so dry that everyone could feel the crappiness of it on their lips that someone was screamingly found hissing, “Satan damn-it! Lip guards!” in a way of searching for an antidote in complete serpent-ness (what ever that may mean!). On further investigation (by a team of three), the dryness was tracked down to have emanated from, and administered by the Sofa-men (so named by the virtue of their ass-on-sofa settlement), Sonam Senior and Karma Junior, brutally known for their never ending slapstick dry talks, named Dry Gadpus, in short.
By then, the group had gained momentum, keeping in mind one of those famous Newtonian laws which is forgotten for good, saving me from quoting it here.
Like the previous gathering of that memorable 14th September, the innumerable bottles of “Fosters’ and “Hits” had already made their presence, only difference lying in that, no one had growled down to those suggestions. Only when the suggestions for “Spy Juice” cropped up, then were the real presences of the two lovely ladies felt, sweeping the faces of the crowned lusers (dictionary spelling “losers”) warm and leaving them pink for a few hours that followed. Heruka and Singay were saved of that pink hue, since the ladies came in their capacities, either as their dates or guests. So had the evening progressed thus, shy but equally entertaining!
After an hour of the gathering, Sonam Senior attempted to deliver a welcome speech, but so hopeless it turned out that he was found delivering the speech in quotas. And these quotas were executed every next hour from the first. In between these quotas, Heruka found in his managerial wisdom to exercise his speech-delivering prowess since he had a shaming experience back at his office in the audience of his Managing Director, where his thoughts bounced back to its basics, and the poor Manager was found mumbling those famous tooth-in-mouth lines “I believe…..” followed by that welling effect of the tears in the eyes, since his mind was observing emptiness! In line to this, Singay was picked up by the group to deliver a “Vote of Thanks” speech to reiterate that of Heruka’s, since he was absent when Heruka delivered his speech. Poor Singay couldn’t figure out head or tail of the situation, and was duly forgiven for his ignorance.
In an attempt to add meaning to the entertainment, Heruka discovered a game which, he thought, would make the grave of the inventor shake, and the heart of the players’ crack, which indeed did, for someone! With its simplistic rules, “Truth and Dare” was the game of the evening.
“Truth or Dare?” pleaded Sonam Junior with Deewakar. “Truth” blurted out Deewakar and he was fired with questions! “How many pondies did you watch so far” was the bullet of the minute. The man under fire mumbled “One Thousand…” the accuracy to which was further drilled and doubted, and the next shot was fired in the likes of “Which one is the best so far?” “Recommend me a good pondi flick” and so on and so like. Soon Sonam Junior was found obnoxious with his questions. Finally when Deewakar heaved a sigh of blatant relief, he had chosen the next victim for the game.
“Truth or Dare?” and Karma dryly chose to tell some truth. “Tell us the full-proof truth of Devdassic journey you are embarking on these days” “Tell us the name of this beauty you so gave into becoming a Devdas” “Is this why you jumped into poetic hibernation and musing?” so on and so forth…
Karma, full name Karma Wangchuk, or infamously known as Zala to the greater public, had traveled some 50+ odd kilometers from Paro to attend this get-together with Chindey Sonam Tshering (referred to as Sonam Junior) and their guest Tashi. Tashi was favorably chosen as their guest by the virtue of his owning a car, which made transportation way easy than they fathomed. Realities apart, Karma got down to giving answers to the truthful questions which sounded to the ears of the gathering as follows:
The name of the beauty is Yangchen, and it was few months back that this beauty screwed up my sanity. If it was not for her getting married with someone else, things would have been much easier; I would have tried my zala-best to earn the name of a serial rejected! As the way was clearly paved for me to stand as the candidacy for the next abbot, filling in for a post of a Devdas, I happily drank my days to desperation. Yes poems, the curator of a broken heart, are the only good things that is left of a man, who is deserted with marked rejections!
And the man was happily seen covering his face, out of respect for the seat of the abbot.
Rejections!
“Truth” demanded Sonam Senior. “Why did you go to Taba yesterday?” “Tell us this story between you and Dawa, in detail!”, and he was found hunting for cover!
Sonam Senior had to take a few paces back in his memory lane to gain complete control of the matters at hand. Before that, he answered the simplest of questions:
“I went to Taba because I think I have a girl friend there”, and the gathering bought it, albeit the loser-nature of this specimen.
Regarding the dear Dawa question, he told stories that had its roots in the year 2004. He informed the gathering of that fateful year, of challenges he had undertaken, where he had dared dear Dawa that he would make her fall in love with him, by the end of December 2004 failing to manifest which, would accrue him in buying her a giant teddy bear as a bet.
Falling in love never happened, so did the buying of a giant teddy. Time moved on, even Sonam couldn’t stop it! He proposed. She rejected. The trend carried on. Even dear Dawa couldn’t stop him from proposing. It flowed like his blood, these proposals!
The failure nature of this man had been long proven in his Engineering days with a first semester Physics paper, PH101, where he had attempted, in his acts of clearing it, few trudging times! So this new failure in love didn’t come as a surprise, but it was more of a testimony to his success in serial failing. This man was sworn in, in the hard disks and processors of the gathering, as a sack of failures and, that boy, Tenzin respected him in the form of a root Guru!
This Tenzin!
Singay had decided to vote for “Truth” keeping in mind the political developments in the country. But the questions that followed were far removed from it (Politics) than he had expected! “How did you feel when Sangay Dema left you?” “How did you feel when Sangay got married?” and suchlike questions.
So many HOW-DID questions and the man felt as if a few quintals of bad memories had been dropped on his back. The weight was too much for the man to take that he had to release it one after another.
He truly confessed that he went through a bad patch in his life when she left him, but it was all over now. And by the time Sangay got married, he had become insensitive towards the feelings he had for her once.
Life is a Brute!
Sonam Junior, who had also traveled those 50+ odd kilometers from Paro on Tashi’s Alto to attend the gathering for the first time, was literally all chindey. No community of society was residing on his head, which is commonly known to humankind as “hair”.
In the run-through of the “Truth” questions, the man was drunkenly heard answering “I am not gay, but I am gay!” whatever that meant, the ladies present didn’t seem too impressed! And people doubted if he had cleared the top floor in observing his hopelessness in the matters of love but to the utter dismay of the gathering, he said he was engaged to be married. What ever the reasons may be, the light really reflected strongly on his shaved shiny head. In his final attempts to impress the ladies’ present, he was seen throwing two fingers at the ladies and shouting miserably “I am not gay, but I am gay!” Such intoxication of drinks can really waste a man, and he was really stoned to misery!
Gays!
Dr Kezang rode on “Truth”. Sensitizing the gathering on AIDS, he educated the group that it was caused due to three infamous acts of humankind: Drugs through syringe penetration, rectal and normal sex. Although, normal sex contributed to only 10%, he refrained the gathering from indulging in any rectal acts since it was the surest way of getting Aids.
Who would have guessed our rectums were already inflicted with AIDS!
AIDS is rectal, people!
And Sonam Junior left the room excusing himself by saying he needed to pee like a horse!
Somewhere between the gathering, as soon as Jigme and Tsheten had entered, they had gulped down a bottle of beer and had disappeared without any trace! People wondered if they really had made their presence but, they were saved from more investigation by the empty bottle that they had left back.
The choice “Truth” followed questions like “Tenzin, if you were to die tomorrow, what Cartoon movie would you watch?” “What Character in the movie would you be if situation so demanded?”
And that boy Tenzin so wanted to watch that animated movie “Shrek” before he died and he wanted to be a Princess in the movie, if fate had so favored, since he liked that ogre of a Shrek so much! He even flipped his eyelids so daintily, and my Frog(!), people nearly mistook him for a Princess!
“Truth” and Norden was inquired about the welfare of her heart. And she confirmed the gathering that it was fine by and by. One saw her eyes twinkle, and Tenzin’s long said words metamorphosed something close to : Nothing is permanent, not even broken hearts!
“Truth” “Truth” “Truth”. Everyone was in the truth that it seemed the whole world had truly conspired against the liars! As an administrator of the game, Heruka found in his wits to promote people take up more daring acts, and a round of “Dare” demands were implemented.
Heruka dared, and people demanded of him actions!
“Heruka, kindly drain that big glass of beer” and down went the beer along his beer pipe. He turned a pitch darker in complexion after that.
“Heruka, kindly turn to the lovely lady sitting beside you and propose your true feelings” and left-turned Heruka, and blurted out “I can do this!” and said “I really love you” focusing his eyes on the ceiling which nearly bore a hole there, followed by a change in his complexion from pitch dark to a mixture of bluish hue. Too much for the “Truth and Dare” game, it would seem, but the man already had disposals of glass of beer in his contributing stomach, and a pretty face by his side!
Proposals!
In a string of daring acts, Karma was found demanded of a poem recital by the group, portrayal of true Devdas nature, a song which he succeeded in pulling out a line from his blasted memories and he finally ended up proposing the beauty residing by Heruka’s side, Norden.
Next was Sonam Junior in line, and he made such noises from his beer-fed mouth and his light shining head, he ended up having to marriagepropose to the pretty lady residing by Tenzin’s side, Dechen. Sonam’s act of proposing someone to marriage was so unique that, no one remembered to translate it into a photograph. He walked like a stiff stick to the pretty face in the waiting, placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezed them, and snorted “Will you marry me?” and walked back more drunk to his seat.
Norden was made to propose Karma due to his incessant requests of requiting the proposal thus called on some moments previously. She blessed him like a dove, and Karma ran out of his skins with joy! For a few moments, he forgot he was the serially rejected subject of our times.
Tashi was duly ushered to propose miss pretty parked beside Tenzin to exercise his daring acts! He did, and he really had dared!
Now, it was Deewakar yet again. He was pressed so hard to dare sing a song. It took him almost ages before he sang “I am a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world. Imagination; Life is your creation…..” And the song faded away. He had forgotten rest of the lyrics. Boy! Who would have imagined Deewakar in the Barbie world!? Not me, at least!
“We dare you show us your muscles!” and Chabilal Bastola, that man of a muscle shifted his place lest people failed to see his hairy bulk! He was really at his acts and people were starting to appreciate the bulk of those muscles when someone suddenly announced, “Eating time!” Unfortunately… he had to wrap up the show and fall in line for dinner. In fact, the whole gathering had to!
Dinner was self-served, and people like Sonam Senior and Chabilal Muscle found in complete favor to exercise their freedom that they were seen helping themselves to plenty and having dinner of a lifetime!
After dinner, that boy Tenzin so wanted to continue with the “Truth and Dare” game, but time had run short. It was Deewakar’s medicine time, and way past baby Chabilal’s bedtime. So they left home and rest of the gang proceeded to party the night away!
The gathering split into three groups, since there were only three horses at disposal, and headed towards Buzz Club. As they passed through Hongkong Market, car-eating dogs chased them like hell. The car nearly jumped out of its skin, and Dr Kezang was in due time to bring it back to form. It still gives the group goose bumps when they think about the night but, luckily, no damage had been done to the cars… We promise!
Once they reached the Buzz Club, they had to negotiate hard with a lady there who was strict to the bones! In the midst of it, it left members of the group wondering who had paid the entry fees. Some of the group members were pretty sure it wasn’t God who had paid, for sure.
God doesn’t party!
Once inside the discotheque, than were the group swept up in its endless summer. They encountered a hundred inscrutable characters and phenomena. It was as though an entire sea of butterflies had suddenly taken off into the air to hover in a shimmering cloud above the black beetles of the male sex. And this was too much for boy Tenzin to take in, for it was his first time; he had to gulp in great amounts of saliva to capture his monkey mind back to form.
Once he regained form, he encountered waists the like of which he had not seen even in his dreams: slender, narrow waists no thicker the neck of a bottle, on beholding which he respectfully stepped aside lest inadvertently he should jostle them with an impolite elbow; his heart was seized with timidity and fear lest a careless breath of his might snap those most exquisite work of art and nature. But he danced on, his baby steps!
Sonam Junior, Dr Kezang and a few others tried jostling the fat moths but they were being roughed up so bad, they fell back to their dancing zones. Heruka executed few of his shock dance steps to no effect, and Sonam maneuvered his age old century steps, and Singay, his R ‘n’ B steps. Everyone danced on. By the time, the gang had almost implemented “in the mind” best dance steps, the party had gotten over and they had to leave for home.
And deep into the night, Tenzin was found tossing on the bed, frightfully shouting in the mind “No more Linux, only girls!”
The thought was singular, he had just entered puberty…
# posted by Sonam Phuntsho @ Sunday, November 01, 2009
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