I have nothing good to write about. I have been talking with Luzee on the phone for a long time. We were sharing our woes -- we know actually it is through such opening up that happiness can be shared. I know she is going through some hard times. Office and home and so many associated stress. I have been having the same stress too. These days, there is no weekends for me. And it is so hard to get a respondent for the survey in Thimphu. In the village, a gup or a tshogpa knows everyone in the village, but in Thimphu? A person staying in a building doesn't know his next door neighbor. And these days, my task is to hunt them down. Those people in Thimphu who are in the sample for GNH Survey. It is one hell of a task. I don't know if I'm enjoying it or getting frustrated. But there surely are times when I have to go home with severe headache that won't leave until I take a tablet of paracetemol.
I have not logged in on my blog for a long time. Today, my colleague Tshoki handled the job and I got a little free time to breathe. It is 5:32 p.m. right now. I logged in on my blog just to see how it has remained. Say, to say hello. And I was surprised that it is already the end of June and I have not written anything for a long time.
People I have talked to have been busy because it is June closing time. You know one financial year of the government offices closes and the new one opens from July. I am surprised it is July already. Are we growing old that fast? I can't believe it. I have been feeling lonely in the villages; I have felt frustrated with the enumerators; there were times when I expected so much out from them and thought they were not graduate enough; and I thought the time dragged. And when I saw that I've already half stepped in July, I was kind of shocked and I was reminded of my death once again, all in the truth of naked reality. I have been listening to Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse's teachings a lot these days.
I was bedridden in the village and his teaching kept me alive. It is surprising how truth can pierce right through your heart and keep you alive, just so you want to know it for real; really, really want to know that it is the truth, not in your head alone, but in your flesh and bones, and heart. I think, it is this craving for truth that sent me into shock as I realized that time is running fast.
July 2010 tomorrow is. But I know in, like a snap of a finger, it will be July 2011. I don't even know where I will be. Now, as I write this, I get a feeling that some of my readers might feel sick of hearing me talk of death. But I have no choice.
If you feel sick hearing of death, do you know when you are dying?