Sunday, February 26, 2012

My kind of Losar


I never wish for a grand celebration on the losar day. I do not crave for extravagant foods and drinks to glorify the day. To blast a party with gushing champagne, throwing out luxurious laughter isn’t within my budget. Getting festive with archery or any other entertainments has long abandoned my bones. This may sound weird and pessimistic, for my kind of losar isn’t the way most people would want it to be. Then, what is it?

It means a big day for everyone – for some it is a celebration of achievements of the past one year while welcoming a fresh new year filled with promises of success, joy and happiness in abundance; for some, it is the day to drown all their difficulties and misfortunes in the mist of merry making with a hope that such be the part of their life for next one year; and, for few others it is a day of thanks giving to Kenchog Sum (all deities and invisible forces included), the King and the Country – for having granted a fruitful past one year without any hassles to one’s Lue Ngag Yid Sum (body, speech and mind).

Friday, February 10, 2012

Midnight phone calls...contd.


The next day, Deki got up early. She was preparing breakfast in the kitchen. The rays of morning sun hit directly on the face of Karjey that woke him up too. He straight away pulled his mobile phone from the corner and checked his call records. It did not show any records of last night’s mysterious calls.

“Hmm…was I dreaming then,” he could not believe this.
He got into the bathroom. Splashed handful of water on his face and looked on the mirror. His eyes have turned reddish probably due to a disturbed sleep last night.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

TRIPLE FIVE - Year Two: False accusation compels change of school


As always I chose to sit at the back by the window side. My juniors became my classmates. From the window I could see my friends in the other classroom. Seeing them in different classroom only brought me regrets. “Had I been little bit careful in my studies, today I would be sitting with them,” I would think.

I would start every morning towards school by 8.00 am. The distance was about a kilometer and half. In the evening I would head back home soon after the 8th period. I was a day scholar then. Being day scholar, I missed most of the things that our school offered. I could not afford to take part in most of the extra-curricular activities. Of all these, I missed regular gossips in the evenings with my friends. Life went on as I gradually got myself accustomed to it.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Cartooning...it's going to be FUN!!

Inspired by different poses of my younger daughter, I tried out few caricatures of her. This of course are done from the photographs. I think it's going to be FUN to draw cartoons. It looks nice...



Cinderela as drawn by Dechog
I think my child can draw better than me: Drawing of Dorimon, one of her favorite cartoon characters.


Thursday, February 2, 2012

A letter to my Grandma


Dear Grandma,

When you sat on your death bed, leaning against the hard cushion fighting for your last breath, I could see your lips move. You tried hard to speak out something but then the icy hands of death had already caught you cruelly. So cruel, that you weren’t able to convey your last words. By looking at your state, my mother became blank and speechless. She sat beside you helplessly holding your hand. With her head drooping I could see her shed tears of pain and despair. I was a young school boy then who was on winter holidays and had only little knowledge about all these affairs. I didn’t know what to do. I sat near my mother and silently cried along. But deep inside me, one thing kept questioning me constantly, “What were you trying to say?”

This is my mom. My grandma looked no different from her.
And then you left us creating a hall of silence in that cozy room of the ground floor of our three storied ancestral home. It is in that silence that all sorts of thoughts propped up in our minds. I’m sure my mother was losing her consciousness frequently due to all these thoughts. My mother cried out, “Ama, as an only child to you, I’ve not been able to keep you happy. I’ve only caused you troubles. And now you are gone. How will I take on this family without you? Whom should I look unto for guidance and help? What am I going to do without you?” and with immense regrets she prayed, “Please come back as my grandchild for I remain indebted to you for the great love and affection you’ve showered upon me until now.”