Friday, December 14, 2007

In Your Thoughts

I read this now and laughed all alone. Don't quite know what mood I was in...

You said hi but I wasn’t sure it was you
You said I knew who you are
And you called when
I said you’d if you were who I thought you were

Oh yes, it began more like a joke
Now we stand more committed than anyone
I asked if you’d like to take an adventure
You said, “I join you for the adventure”

Did I call you honey?
There wasn’t a dearer word
I held you in my heart
And wanted never to part

Many years have passed
The adventure began once upon a time
But here we stand now
As new a lover as the two darling doves

Marriage didn’t have to be spelled
It happened in our heart
And we knew the knot was tied
And promise was sealed

Oh! My sugar! My honey!
I love you
I miss you more than ever
And I wish I could ride the moon to be where you are

Indefinable dream

When I go to bed, I always pray I have the ability to know that I am dreaming. But it hasn’t been successful. I should admit that I am one dumb person and such clarity hasn’t been expected miraculously to come my way.

It was few days back (11th December, 2007) that I saw a very vivid dream that haunted me and didn’t let me sleep.

I watched the movie “The Terminator” where the star is a robot and wouldn’t die no matter how many bullets he had been shot. I think this is what gave way to the dream I had that night.

I was at my home in Menchari. I was inside one of the rooms and there was some sulking fear that was dragging me from looking straight. Whenever I think of or dream of my home in Menchari, it is always associated with memories of my father and it gives me a kind of mysterious, unabated fear.

Some very big fear was tearing me apart and there was my hero to protect me. Funny that it was my sir – sir Phuntsho was the one to hold me at his chest and protect me from this fear that was eating me. I tugged at his bosom like a child and closed my eyes to shut out this fear. But I was suddenly to know that my father has been living there without the knowledge of anyone of us. I was to learn that he had actually been living all this time – that when he was on the funeral pyre, he quietly ran away and hid all this time leading a silent life away from us. I then meet him for real in the smaller room in our house. I stroke his face, and look at him closer and find no scar. I lost him in a fire and I thought there must be some scar, but I find none. But he has lost so much of weight and he looks very thin and tired.

I woke up suddenly still breathing heavy and fearful. My thoughts carried me helplessly to my home in Menchairi and I couldn’t go back to sleep.

My husband was in Punakha and only my mother and I were at home. I was sleeping with my mother – which gives me a secure feeling. But, that night, I couldn’t even touch my mother’s hand. I feared that this would somehow be connected to the dream I had about my father. So I didn’t disturb her. I thought I will call Karma but he must have been in some big slumber. It was dead night that time. I thought I would call my friend Yeshey – but that didn’t seem so good an idea either. So I hid behind the blanket and prayed hard. I prayed for my father. I talked to him inwardly, telling him that he should know that he has passed away from this world and should realize the truth and find peace in a better world. I visualized my tsawai lam and sought refuge.

But no matter what prayers I recited in my mind or what talk I tried to talk, I just couldn’t even open my eyes with the fear of finding an image I wouldn’t want to carry the rest of my life.

I had finally fallen asleep with the grace of my tsawai lam but I still had some vague dreams of my father. This has been haunting me and been thinking of him a lot these days. Such dreams bring reality closer to our hearts than anything else and make us want to drive even closer to find the truth.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

The Real Person


Sometimes, nothing exists in your world. There is no distraction whatsoever. And at such moments, you are what you are and there isn’t any trick.


Strangling Silence

Did he say he would be back? He did, didn’t he? It has been two months now.

The cattle grazed not very far away. Yanki sat on a stone by the river. Yes, she had heard great masters talk of emptiness and how it is likened to a river. “There is no substantial ‘real’ river – there is only the flowing” (Be a Lamp upon Yourself, pp.160) She mentally concentrated on the flowing of the river and thought of her life. She knew, nothing lasts forever.

When she fell in love with Lotay, did she think love could lead her forever? Only one thought existed then – that she was in love. Nothing seemed more important. The day she kissed Lotay by that same river, she wanted to live more than ever.

But just that same evening they shared secrets and built dreams, he had to leave. He was on hunt for a dream he said would bring more joy than they could find other wise. But to her, what mattered more was their being together. She would have loved waking up together to see the same sun rise than waking up lonely and wondering everyday where he was.

He had not called ever since he left. He had not even written a mail. She was on her holiday at home with her parents. It was at such times when she was all alone by a river side, that she missed him the most. She longed for him to come back and take her with him.

She thought of him more than her result. She wouldn’t worry if she got a back paper. But she dreaded never seeing him.

It was not like her Lotay to not write to her or not even tell her how he was doing. Was he caught up in some grand scheme of things the world is crazy about? The grand scheme of things that make you think nothing is important but money? Oh, but he was coming back.

How long she might have to wait was unknown. Even while it was breaking her heart to think he had left, probably never to return, she couldn’t think of finding love somewhere else. And now, the same reason that once made her want to live forever was conspiring behind her mind and she was thinking if death wouldn’t be so easy as jumping in a river or a cliff and never having to worry about another day.

When I was on the Verge of Quitting

I am writing this post one year and one month after my last post. I buried writing as a past hobby, or a habit. I buried my urge to write as...