Earlier, we sat under a canopy and talked of GNH and jobs. Tshoki told Jom that I am more interested in writing; she said I have landed on the wrong job.
Tshoki: “She will be contributing more if she becomes a reporter; she is interested in writing.”
Me: “No, come on. I can actually imagine the job of a reporter. It would be tiring having to interview so many people for a single news.”
I add, “I write stories and I enjoy writing but I know it will never actually happen.”
Jom: “Why not? You know, it is only you who is stopping yourself. You can make things happen.”
Then Tshoki adds, “She wants to watch the sun set.” But who doesn’t? I have always enjoyed watching the sky glow in majestic color of orange as if the ink is spreading on a sponge. It doesn’t last long but even the briefest joy you get watching it is worth an hour of meditation.
I did take a solitary walk along the beach as the sun started setting. But I was quickly caught by my friend Karma Yangden. We walk, take a few pictures and talk a little. I’m mostly talking to myself, so we didn’t converse much.
I lay down flat on the beach. I listened to the sound of waves, closed my eyes; opened it and watched the sun set—the majestic orange spread over the western horizon. There was no specific thought. At such moment every single sound settles down and you are engulfed in a silence that envelops you in the tranquility that transforms you into the furthest possibility of being enlightened.
I walked back. Then Tshoki came. She wanted to experience the peace of the evening by lying on the beach. So we all joined. What happened next will be completely a different set of story. ( I will try to bring in as soon as possible.)
Author’s note: Later all my friends got a little drunk. Jom kept asking me, “Ms. Kuenzang, how was your sun set?” It became a kind of a trademark.