Expectation brings unhappiness

When you’re in a womb,

Mother takes extra care of herself is only because of you; gives you warm, thinks of your well being inside, she feels every bit of your moments, Gets pain by your kick, feeds you her body’s nutrition and become herself so pale and weak. Bear the pain of labor pain more than an hour to let you out in this world. When you’re out; it is both parent who suffer in making you a good human being;They watch you crawl, walk and then enroll to school, gives you basic things and education.

In those span till you stand yourself; certainly they suffer a lot; perspiration, worries, agony,

Difficulties, starvation and tears are elements they carry in making you an adult boy or a girl.

By the time you have job on your hand, parents become old; body wraps with wrinkles, cover with tinny bone and thin skin. In this situation they dearly need your love and care, they expect

More from you as you’re their blood son and daughter. But, instead of caring your age old parent you give more concern on your work and own family, then heartlessly turn down old ages expectation they have expected till date; you shatter their expectation, hopes, trust, and affection putting them in despair and vain. You have no time for them. It’s an inevitable all of us to face the old age suffer anyhow. Seeing all these reality it is better not to build extreme expectation. When it is not fulfilled it is only a cause of sadness and anguish. Still then to play a role of parents is paramount, but, without much expectation in return, I feel.

A person comes in your life as a sole mate, distinguishes as husband and wife in the eyes of society. You love him or her, have believe, trust and take promise of living together forever.

Each one has a high expectation of “love, care, concern, to lead a happy family, some even have more expectation of wealth and to live together forever”. When we are in love we usually forget about unforeseen future; We never expect to face with betray, hate, humiliation, loneliness, suffers of agony and sadness. We become dump to words, deaf to sound and blind for love. We do everything for love! Each other love crazily, perhaps, lasting for a month, a year or a few years.

Then a few years later, if your highly desired expectation is not fulfilled by your spouse or if something may intrudes that unable to comprehend, it holocaust peaceful relationship by then. Everything you have will become nothingness; you are betrayed, the trust you build will collapse,

Your expectation is in vain. But if your love is pure for what he/she is, not for wealth, instead of thinking for taking revenge you should be able to sit and bear seeing him going with others or alone happily. Live for his/her happiness and think fate leads you where you are. It is better for us not to have much expectation, still then to love every living soul is paramount.  

Family, friends and society-

We think family is everything for us, and friends for share our feelings, society is our audience who sees what we do and renders gossip of our deed. However, we trust them and feel they are our own. If you’re in jeopardy and need of families support, friends help and societies eyes of truth. You expect a lot and ask their hand for help. But, when they turn you down, you become a loner in this world; you have no wealth to grasps their support even if your heart says you are morally right. Truth sometimes does not work with human if one is accustomed to materials things.

Nevertheless, love them with not much expectation in return. Forget what they think of you though it may be difficult to do so. As per as you have the wealth of true heart, no matter what blocks your way, walk and face without harming others. Move ahead with truth,

Later, you will feel the happiness of being trued.

And will come to know who really you are.

These are not advice I’m compelling to do you all,

 But sharing an emotional experienced by a lay person. 

March 15, 2013

A surprise Birthday cake 

The day I joined to college I have seen how birthday was being celebrated. My class mates often made teachers emotional by organizing a surprise birthday. And a few of my colleagues celebrated their birthday in the classroom. It was actually a happy moment to see their cheerful faces. I only had to contribute the amount that was being asked. No worries for buying a gift I got to take as everything was done by my class mates who had better experience.   

Twice I was invited for friend’s Birth-day which I had to buy a gift myself. If I would have gone with empty handed I would have embarrassed, making peculiar myself when others were presenting their gifts to the Birthday girl. Bewildered what kind of gift my Birthday friend would like? I went to gift shop with my group friends. When they were busy selecting gift, I stood like a fool who do not know at which direction to turn and move on. There were various and elegant gifts kept on a shelf with price tag on each packet, expensive and cheap ones. Lastly, I selected a mug thinking it can be usable for drinking though it last no longer and easily breakable. To take a gift has become necessary for a birthday, to bring smiles on birthday girl or a boy’s face, seeing the gift.

A few of my friends kept on asking me, when was my birthday? My reply to them was simple “I do not have Birth-date”. Don’t u have parent or are you not come from a mother’s womb? They questioned me. “Yes I do have parents”, I said. I become nostalgia when ever someone throws, especially this question. When I was in High school, in winter vacation, I once asked my mother to tell me the exact Birth date of mine. She was unable to answer it. She might have thought that I would be sad as she could not remember the date being a mother. I could see her face turn in sad mood and her voice tone changed so soft. “Since I gave a birth to fourteen children I could not remember all of your Birth date” she said. I immediately comforted her saying it was not a big deal, I simply asked if you could remember. It’s okay mother. Since then as I did not know my accurate birth date, who ever ask my birthday, I reply them that I do not have “Birth date”. I do not blame my parents for not remembering; instead I’m happy that I do not have to celebrate a birthday, spending luxuries.

Never had I envied when I see others celebrating a birthday. In my village, none of the child would have experienced the celebration or hear the term “birthday celebration”.  They are happy if their stomach is filled enough to survive for a day. Rather I felt it was better not to remember birth date, in the town where modern style of life is more in centered. However, with no expectation my friends had overwhelmed me, putting me in modern life of celebration which I never had experience through out my life till date.  

  March 15, 2013, was a conjured day; a miracle and a memorable day! The sun and moon has never taken a partiality, it has been glittering, giving a brightness and live to living things. Now the turn has come to me, the day I had never expected someone would do a surprise thing to me. I heard a knock at the door, when I opened; it was my friends with a cake, singing a birthday song “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU”. I did not know what to do? I was assured it wasn't my birthday celebration since they already knew I do not have B-date. With astonished I asked who’s this is for. “It’s your Birthday, from today onward March 15^th is your B-day”. Sooner I spoke a phrase “I have no words”, my tears rolled down. It was not that I have no words but my rattle throat blocked to voice my words. My friends joined with me in shedding their tears too. I could feel how is like giving a surprise to anyone.   

For fixing a surprise, bringing cheerful to my face and fulfilling my never wished Birthday; I wholeheartedly thanked my friends who have made the day special to me! 

Was I really missing the Snow Fall

Image from Facebook

As-usual, it was holiday for Third Saturday of this month. The time was half-passed Ten when my mobile rang; I was in the bathroom, washing cloths. The moment I heard the ring tone, I drove the cloths and rushed in my bed room to receive the call. It was my friend. She and her friend, they were going out for visiting some places in Bangalore. As I stay alone, she thought I would be feeling lonely. She asked me to accompany them. I convinced her saying I will go next time. Indeed, she was right that I was feeling lonely. Whenever I feel lonely, I better chose to stay at home. They were gone. I got back to my work.

The next, I browse net for searching materials for psychology project work. In the mean time, I prepared breakfast. My breakfast was Pazta-Thukpa. While I was having Thukpa, like everyone, I just flipped into Facebook- so-called Social-Net-Working. As soon as the page displayed, it gave me cherishing news-‘Snow Fall in Thimphu’. Friends had unloaded the news with freezing picture. The picture has moved me into imagination, dragging me back in Bhutan. I remembered the happy moment I had in Bhutan. 

For Three years, to live out of own country is actually hardest thing I feel sometimes. Perhaps, people may like travelling around the world. But, their ultimate wish would be, to live and die in their own Country with peace and happy- ‘we in Bhutan’. I wished I was there in Bhutan, in the time of snow fall, to enjoy with my dear ones and…I missed the Snow-Fall. 

I

I want to go somewhere,
a place where there is,
no attachment for environment.

I want to go somewhere,
where there is no nature,
of born and die.

I want to go somewhere,
where there is no,
sad and happy existed.

I want to go somewhere,
where i do not fall to be,
an 'object'-'source of suffer'.

I want to go somewhere,
a place where there is no 'I'. 

I call I'm a sinner

Today, In this night I felt a spasm of sadness,

My brain squeezed with words,

Heart spoke for bitterness,

And two hands clenched to type the words

Here it goes…

Our tiny body carries emotions-

The pain, suffer, happiness and sorrow,

Which neither can be seen nor grasp it.

Our body is made up of blood, flesh and bones,

And also runs the same impulsive in all souls.

If these emotions can be seen like a rainbow,

One could identify a hue of emotions,

To see if one is in sad or joy mood.

But we observe them by their physical gesture,

And fails to feel what other really feels.  

Many say you’re bold;

It is certain that I too act boldly,

No one asked me to be bold in the beginning,

Both my parents are farmer and

They are illiterates to write to me ‘be bold’,

But I was make sure not to steal and lie

From the day I sense I’m human.

Half of my life is passed, and

Half unforeseen life has to crawl through.

In the day to till today-

I walked through rough road;

I felt a victim of betray and neglect,

I listened to a song of sorrows and

Wrote a few verses of, my own, in my diary.

As a medicine I drunk alcohol to quench

My pain, bitterness and suffer,

But it did not work.   

I met different people and

Learnt different life experiences.

Today you see me as who I’m not who I was,

It is all because of hardship I went through,

And the people who gave me lessons who I should be.

If others see a bold heart, I must confess even bold has pain

And it cries for others good.  

  

My tiny body too carries emotions,

Yet some feels I’m ‘bold’.

To act bold it seems heartless,

Show no love!

But boldness encompasses the pain.

I have not enjoy the sadness and happiness

That is not yours. I feel I’m cruel because I act bold.

But I will not stop to put into practice to be bold.

As I act bold-I call myself a sinner.

Still I here plead be bold too. 

Know or unknown I hurt many souls,

I might have beaten others by my harsh words,

Made cry and killed the alive soul.

If I say I did all for others good will,

It seems dramatic. But the heart speaks the truth.

Until one could comprehend my verses genuinely

-I call myself a sinner. And

You may delete a word sinner if empathize my phrases. 

I borrowed 'Kira' to wear on 11th November, In 1996

                          Part-I

The bustled school campus; all the teachers and students assembled at the football ground. Teachers’  orderly distributed work, appointing a leader in each group; energetic boys sent to forest for collecting wooden pole, bigger girls were entrusted in decoration aspect and along with 30 students I was sent to bring white sand (in our dialect we call ‘Sakkar’) which is used to mark a line on the ground to make distinctive line for athletic's sight. It is three hours walk-able road  to and fro. We were made sure by teacher to return back within three hours which was a limited time, otherwise no lunch would be provided us as punitive. Led by house captains students were put in respective work field.  

It was to celebrate 11^th November, in 1996. In Bhutanese calendar, this particular day is exclusively recognized and celebrated as “The Birth Anniversary of fourth Druk Gyelpo Jigme Singye Wangchuck. 

It was left only 24 hours the next day (11th November) to come. Everything seems lively and everyone was preparing for the next day. Whereas me, my head was crushing thinking about ‘kira’, nothing I could think apart from getting ‘kira’ (Bhutanese National dress worn by female) which I must wear on cultural show next evening. For this I was desperately in needed a new kira.  Even my younger sisters needed too. Our father went to Diafam, it is a small town adjacent to Assam, India, where our villagers usually go there for shopping. It is tedious journey of two days. If my father won’t arrive home on time I have to look for other solution to get kira. We were made compulsory that dancer should wear nice kira. I was assured that I had no nice kira at home. With those sorts of thoughts creeping in my mind i was still on the way where I was sent to.  

I was alarmed from my thought when house captain called my name to be loaded. He lifted the sack and loaded on my back.With heavily loaded i started tottering - way back to school. Again i went back to previous thought in continuation; this time i come up with an idea “borrowing kira from my relative whose very closer to me”. By the time I was nearer to school when I knew I was still in the queue walking tirelessly, sweating and was fully exhausted. I lowered down my load (a bag of sand) and reported to teacher. There was still time left for lunch. Sun was in full shown and I took a rest under Nim tree shade to get myself cool.  Lunch bell rung and everybody made a queue with empty steel plate firmly grasped and waiting their turn to come. I didn’t take lunch thought I was starving long before. My appetite was lost and the very growling stomach has been filled by worries and frustration. My best friend asked me glancing at my weak face if I was sick. It was a nice hearing from her inquiring about my health.

I sacrificed lunch and went to relative’s house for borrowing a kira. It was only 15 minutes walk from the hostel where I stayed.

I knocked the door humbly;

“May I come in?” (I spoke in fumble)

Mathang (In-law-sister) – “yes, come in”. (her voice seems reluctant, probably she knew it was me)

I saw she was washing cloths. “Let me wash mathang, you can take rest”. By seeing her grimaced face I got a clue it wasn't a good day for me to ask about kira. Whatever might be there was no other person whom I felt convenient to ask for. i had left no choice rather decided asking her once.

“mathang can I borrow any of your kira for cultural show, tomorrow, only for an hour? I pleaded.

She said “No”, I don’t have lots of kira that can be borrowed to you. One which I have has to wear myself tomorrow on 11^th November”. Her answered was too short “No”.   

I was 15 and was studying in class five that time. I was very young enough to reiterate and exhort her after hearing her futility reply. I simply said “it’s okay” mathang. In fact I was woeful and saddened. I asked myself, if own relatives render no help than who will aid pitifully?

Part-II

with great expectation and hoped i begged for kira has been turn down. My heart filled with sadness and disappointed. In sober mind i tottered like a alcoholic man. On my way back, before i could reach hostel the bell rung signaling that everyone should be assemble at the ground for March past rehearsal. Over the past half month we have been practicing march past for the 11^th November celebration. I had no idea how school in urban areas celebrate this day but whereas in rural schools as I witnessed at my primary school, teachers with their enthusiastic and loyalty they painstakingly make schedule beforehand to remark this day cheerful and successful one. On this day all the people over vicinity; staffs from different offices and even villagers takes a day off from their tedious and nonstop work to witness this day. It was sure the ground will be crowded the next day.

I directly rushed to the ground and attended the march past. Rehearsal went well. The next step was to go to dance club which was also rehearsal. I was in the state of mind that I do not want to go there. I sat down on the footstep in front of the hostel in hopeless. I saw my best friend walking towards me. She said “Aro” (friend) you are called by teacher for dance rehearsal”. Without a word I followed her. If i denied her I would have got punishment because it was me who was leading other dancers. I was put in three songs to be danced. Zest for moving my body has become vulnerable. I was feeling dizziness and faintness, it might be because i being in saddened or due to starving stomach. Somehow I managed to do my part well.

Now, school’s hectic work has been completed. Everything was made ready for tomorrow’s program. Every students were moving home.  

But my personal problem hasn’t solved yet. Where to get kira? Will my father arrive today evening? Constantly these two questions was being piercing my mind. All I could do was sitting and waiting for father and praying god to bring father back home safely in the evening.   

In the morning assembly, Headmaster had precisely announced that the hostelers who all are nearby school can go home and was asked to bring necessary things for tomorrow’s program.

Part-III

On that evening I went home with a great expectation that my father would have arrived home by now. It took 30 minutes to reach home. Normally the distance between my village and school takes almost one hour.

Seeing the door ajar, I believed both father and mother would be in the home. This very thought brought me alive from my current tension. Quietly I stepped in and slammed the door gently without my parent’s knowledge. When I got inside it was only mother, seated near the hearth, grooming firewood and readying to lit fire. She was just come home from daily field work. However, seeing my mother has alleviated my tension. She looked at me and we broke into smile. Before i could ask, mother said “father hasn’t come yet”.  I was nearly stunned hearing her assertive phrases because my mother did not know in what situation i was in. Nonetheless, I remained calm only to let my mother be calmed.     

I helped her preparing diner. Dinner was made ready but we waited father till 10pm to have dinner together. There was no sign for his arriving. After starving for so long we finally had dinner. We ate bokpi and chilli curry which is our everyday meals. Sometimes we take Thukpa (porridge). As I haven’t taken lunch I ate heavy dinner that night . My stomach was fully packed but I could still feel it’s emptier.    

Like always night, the remote and solitary village is overwhelmed by the darkness of the night. Night is the only few hours that the villagers gets free time to take rests from their daily manual and unfinished work, whether it’s raining or sunning day they work incessantly. This is the way of life that the villagers are dwelling in which is inexperienced or unseen by people who are dwelling in town. By this time every people must be taken rest to bed. My mother and younger siblings were already fallen asleep. I was kept awake not by noise pollution but the circumstances I mentioned earlier.           

It was half past 1Am and the new day begun for “11^th November”. Palpitation of my heart increases with the time passes closer. I stood nearby window, leaning my head at the window edge and looked out through it. The moon was in half shown that the moonlight was dimmer to see houses precisely or that could visualize night wanders in the darkness. Cold breeze was gently blowing and the sound of prayer flags could be heard which it beckons me of recitation “Badza Guru”. Instantly my heart arose cold and my eyes were moisturized with tears and it dripped over my cheeks.  I sobbed silently..

 

“Zamin” (daughter) my mother called. I knew she too wasn’t fallen into sleep.  

“Yes, Ama”

“Take nap, u haven't slept entire night, you will fall sick”.

"Its okay, Ama, I will stay till father comes"

“Your father might be on the way; walking through out the night”

“You are right Ama, he must be exhausted”

“Did you ask anybody?”

“What are you talking about, Ama?”

“About kira”,

“Who told you?”

“Your sister told me you need kira for the cultural show tomorrow evening. Why didn’t you tell me before? I would have asked from our neighbors”.

“Yes, I'm in needed. You have lots of work to do so I didn’t pressurize you”

“If you have asked to Mathang she would have given you her kira”.

“I did”

“Then what happened”

“She said ‘No’”

As soon as she heard the word 'no' she looks saddened and expressed her feelings ruefully.

“When she becomes mother of more children, when she becomes a grandparent of her own sons's and daughters's children, and when she will see her own children in difficult situation only than she will realize our today's suffering that we are going through. Your father’s parents died when he was young and I didn't get a chance to look after them. Today I wished their souls live in peace”.

When you are grown up, you will not be single; you will become wife of your husband and in-law-daughter of his parents. Give the same respect and feelings that you have for us. Your husband’s parents are your parents”. My mother said. 

How beautifully she spoke with meaningful sentences. She often used to tell us that not to differentiate between in-law-parents from own parents. I didn't know what makes her to says, especially this things again and again…Today I’ m grown up and realize her moral advised that why she has spoken invariably. Her words has got  that much potential even to let forgot my worries for awhile.  

Part-IV 

  
Cocks and hens made a chirping sound, letting the farmers’ wake up from a sound sleep. I was still awake and my mother didn’t get a chance to wake me up that morning. In other days usually she has to provoke me for waking up every morning. I used to be the last person to wake up late in the family.

It was around morning 3am when I finally heard a knock at the door. I had no patience to wait and see who it was; I suddenly got up, stumbled at the door and unlashed it. “‘Yes’ it was father”; his untidy shirt was still dripping wet, face moisture with perspiration and he looks feeble. I introspect how fast he would have walked that night without even taken a nap. My mother already waked up and was preparing some food for father. Seeing him tiresome I could not dare ask him whether he brought kira or not. My mind was still whirling of tension.

Outside it was still dark. I must reach school earlier before sun rises as I was assigned some responsibility for the program. I told my parents that it was time for me to move to school’. Until then my father utter words ‘wait for sisters in the school’. Hearing his words I comprehend that he has got something for me. For that something I was waiting for the whole night and dreaming of it.  

As I stepped into the school gate the school campus looked seemingly different; the liveliest campus and fragrance of happiest. And all of my friends seemed hyperactive of enthusiastic, made self looked beautiful and elegant. Smile could be sensed on everyone’s face. How happy they appeared.

Few minutes left for assemble for the ground. My sisters have not yet come. I was worried if they be late. I stood at the veranda waiting for them. This waiting offers me a breathtaking panorama of the campus. The football ground was beautifully decorated with buntings, flags and white marked lines. Thrilled in me could be felt giving me a solace for awhile. I got lost in imagination.  

“Ana..ana….we are here…..” they were gasping.

“Come in …..Hurry up, hurry up, we are getting late” 

“Today i m very…very…happy….” One of my sisters said

“You must be, for now shut up and get ready first”

She was overwhelmed with excitement and continued expressing her happiness “We got new cloths after couple of years back…this could be the happiest moment that I ever had felt before…” I could see happiness in her bulging eyes. It was happy to see them happy. I dressed them up, comb hair neatly and ushered them to go to the ground.

I made ready myself and rushed for the ground. Delirious of joy could feel in me on that day as I was in new school uniform. But still there was unsolved things left about ‘borrowing kira’. It was to wear on cultural show in the evening after the day program was over. On every 11^th November our school used to conducts cultural show to the people and staffs by which accumulate some money for the school fund.  

Now the day was about to beginning. The ground was circled by crowed audience. Staffs from other Department office were invited as a chief-guest for the program. The fourth King’s portrait is kept before us. Headmaster hoisted the National flag along with we sung the National Anthem in choir. After that welcome speech was given and we did march pass.   

The most entertainment part of the day's program was sport competition. My house captain has put my name for eight various games. i pleaded him to cut my name from high-jump and long-jump lists. During that time these two games were new to us and more over girls would feel shy to take part in. girls in remote is typical coz we used to argue with house captain for refusing to play games. Captain did not listen for my pleading; however, I had to participate in all eight games. Out of which i got 7 prices; first price was steel plate, second steel cup and third two pencils. I received 6 steel plates for first prize and one steel cup for third prize. Those prices are no worthless as it was a gift from me for my parents. I brought a grinned on my mother’s face that day. How thankful we feel ourselves to see our parents smile. In contrary, a wealthier people may seem such a steel place is worthless but whereas the peasants like us who inhabits in the remote place who are depriving from congenial city lives are hardly afford to buy even this cheaply things. Hoped I’m not offending anyone by confessing what is truth in life. If affluent person will touches the earthly life of peasants then only one could comprehend afflicts that farmers are bogged down with. 

One of my mother’s relative asked for a steel plate ( prize i got ). My mother calmly gave one plate to her with no reluctant or with no heart of saying ‘no’. When I was young I was good in games but now after stepping into adulthood it was totally opposite. I become idle and clumsy, especially athletic area. Despite the tension I had, I found the day was interesting. I now considered that day as a monument that I will cherish in the time when I feel desolate and dreary.

The ‘11^th November’ celebration ended with ‘TASHI LAKBAY’ song.

Now it was time for the evening program to start the cultural show. It was to start after having dinner. Within half an hour I must get ready for the welcome dance. Other participants were getting ready; my friends were looking awesome in new cloths but this time not in school uniform. They were in casual kira.   

For me I haven’t got kira and the time was moving very fast. If I wore school uniform it would have looked awkward. In saddened I retrieved of yesterday why mathang had not let me borrow her kira. I was certain that she knows how to loam kira and has a number of cloths. My elder brother came running and asked whether I got kira or not. ‘No’ was only i could utter apparently. I wasn’t in a state to talk more. He suggested me to borrow from mathang which I did yesterday and was being disappointed. He was shocked and furious because he knew that she had given her kira to another student, a friend of mine. I wasn’t against her refusal. I convinced him. My brother cried hearing my despaired feelings. I tried acting bold in front of him but could not hold my tears.

Part-V

My brother went back to his hostel. I stayed on the footstep, filled with sad and despair emotions. An acquainted friend who's from another village, came and seated on the left side to me where I was sitting. We never had a talk before though we were studying in the same school. However, we have exchanged a smile whenever our eyes get fixed to one another. She used to be a simple girl in the school.

This little known friend had finally pacified my two days endured worries about ‘kira’. She has two kiras which one gave to me. The kira was big enough, double the size of my height and body as it was her mother’s kira. I double folded the kira and wore. Fortunately I was thin that time and that’s why, in school, one of my teachers used to say ‘you don’t stand in the wind, otherwise, vigorous of the wind might blow you away”, he also nicknamed me as ‘Dry Fish”. Having those memories freshly in my memory I vividly can visualize my teacher’s amusing talks.

By the time, all the audience had taken seat. Audience had seated not in a chair or on a bench or on the carpet but on the earth surface as their mattress.  Teachers and participants were reported at the tent. I was going toward tent. I could see people hastily moving here and there, might be in search of what they need. At the time, I was a person with no worries anymore because I got what I have been desperately needed for.  I reached there exactly at right time when welcome dancers were called on stage to greet the audience through our welcome song. We did welcome dance and then other lists of programs followed one after another. 

For a moment, on that night, the remote school and the peasant audience had an eventful night. Shouting voice of enthusiasms, parents sobbed in children’s glory and screamed of innocent child could spill from the audience. Whoever presents there could feel the night filled with enjoyment and thrilling. In such occasion and during village festivals, the tranquil and ever solitary village seldom turns into animate.

Everything was over; the day’s activities and the night cultural show. ‘I returned back the kira to her with wholeheartedly thanking her’.

When everything was over the time was already around 11pm. All the people over there were moving home. I had to look for my mother since my father did not come for show. My mother took a little alcohol that night with her relatives having being met after many months. I pushed myself through the crowed, eyeing for mother. She was nowhere to be found. I dreaded as she was little drunk. I immediately thought of my relative ‘mathang’ if she would have taken her at her place. I forged toward her place. My anticipation proofed true. My mother was cautiously taken cared by her.

As soon as I saw her with my mother, a strange thought crept in my mind. “She did not land me her kira the previous day but the very night I saw her caring mother. That’s a great thing I knew about her. My negative thoughts and distrusts about her melted away having seen her current action. Every soul in this world is never born badly”. I thought.   

The particular day, 11^th November, 1996 has bidden adieu. Within these two days there were many things happened which rendered me a lesson like every day things happening to us.

The End 

     

moon

How sad sky must be feeling

when cloud overtakes,

veiled seeing the earth    

How happy sun must be feeling

when no cloud appears to block his way

for sparkling on an indigent souls

in the very samsaric world  

How despair we feel

when a rays of hope

dissolve in the darken cloud

when no sun brings grin on dingiest face

Oh! The Lord Guru

I believe you’re omnipresent

I bend at your feet

with pray-

Let the moon always shines   

in the terrible and greediest night,

glisten the darken cloud

into blue skies,

bring smile on sufferers face

at least by the torch of moon

to walk ahead

through hell of darkness

to the heavenly abode