Kuenza's Diary

Happiness in this world is temporary. So is suffering. But they have one difference. We have to strive to create conditions (karma) that will guarantee good birth, and thus happiness. But to have suffering, it will come without any hard work. It is guaranteed. And you will find yourself so easily inclined towards actions that will create karma to cause you to be reborn into lower births. No matter how beautiful a girl or a boy is; no matter how powerful a man is; no matter how wealthy someone is; these are all temporary. They are like dreams too. I have seen rich people suddenly suffer in downfall. I have seen poor ones rise in times to come. So nothing is permanent. Things change. People run in fear of accepting this change but it catches us no matter where we try to run to. And I feel sad to see that despite all the easy visible facts, we are still wishing things were permanent. Death is as temporary as dreams. So is life. We don’t cry when a newborn comes into the world with a cry o...

L … but death is something that tears you apart, inside out. K : Yeah I know, even when we know that it is natural. L : I fear the worst at times. K : …I told him that I would remember all this closeness, each in close detail and I would dread to live. L : And now I fear myself as a victim one day K : I was telling him if I would be able to come out of this fear if I tried to leave this life. That is what Bumo. I used to tear myself inside with that fear when I was studying. And now I sometime wonder if those were the worries that never let me put on weight. L : I get this fear constantly and also the same magnitude of fear of I not being back home. K : You will come home L. You will be here soon and without problem. L : I see life slipping off like from a fall. I am growing skeptic se. K : It is true that we worry about what hasn't even happened. L : Do you find it silly that we think way too much? K : That is what Buddh...

PowerPoint Presentation Two friends are walking, arms in arms. And they are singing this song, ‘come friend, come here, let us go together.’ I am still feeling as if I want to rush over to a friend and give her a hug for no reason at all. I am feeling so lively and inspired, so full of energy that I could run a mile and not get tired. I wish there was a better word I knew that would describe exactly how I’m feeling right now. Tshoki and I are the guests at the Changzamtok School. They have this storytelling programme. They have called parents to come and tell stories to students. The principal introduces herself with an exuberance of energy that catches you and puts you in her track. I can’t help smiling. I’m smiling as I watch the students buzz around. The noises fill you up and you are in a completely different world. Class PP students come together to take the table to the other end of the corner like an army of ants. I am smiling all along. I know I have been thei...

I felt so down and low. I had no place to be. I had no friends around. The friends I had didn’t seem to share my mood. I had to find a place for my own—where my emotions would be better understood; where my feelings would be interpreted without judgment. And my only resort was to look for a friend online. Sometime it is the best haven. I didn’t need to introduce; I didn’t even need to care about whether I looked the right way to meet someone. It is nothing like—you are going for a date for the first time with a guy you have liked for a long time. In that world, you don’t have to care if you are wearing the right make-up; or if you are wearing the right dress. You just show up, and speak out your mind, ruthlessly straight. I did just that, that evening. I found a friend already, even before I had time to catch a glass of wine. (I know this is my imagination carrying me again. I would never be in a party hall where I would be so majestically standing, holding a win...

I hate being emotional sometimes but I think that is what I am. I sometime wonder if people reading my blog find me weird, because I write everything here, as if it were my personal diary. But then, I don't seem to care. I get carried away in my own thoughts. I seem to carry hundreds of dreams in my head, each one rushing to be let out first. But there is always a fear...a small fear that can stop them from gushing out at free will. And they seem to have no other safer place than my own head. So I beg them to stay there until I find a good place for them elsewhere. But there are times when each one burst out and scream until I have to close my eyes and say, 'yes, here, today I will listen to your request. Now you sit here and be a good girl.' It is so true that our life and happiness therein depends on the people we meet and not really on how successful we are. I meet a person and even when I have not seen him/her quite well, I can have the whim of my imaginatio...