Kuenza's Diary

This was a blogging topic in Redroom. The instant I saw it in my mailbox, I thought, I would like to write something about it, but it lay in my mailbox just like that. I didn’t log in Redroom, neither did I write anything about this topic. I think more than three months passed just like that. But today, as if I have no other work, I thought I will write about it, here, now, because I seem to think a lot about getting old, of growing old, of the stages of life.    First, traveling in the east with the young graduates made me think I have grown so old. I found that their thought process and mine differed. I found that their interest and mine differed too. If they wanted to roam around every small town in the place we visited, I remained hooked in the corner of the gup’s office the whole day. But I watched hell lot of movies. This is the recent instance that made me think I’m already so old. But there were many things which made me wonder...

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 h...

I ate an early heavy dinner today. Karma goes to play basket ball these days. I have no objection in playing sports, but playing cards is what I cannot accept. Not that I see it be utterly useless or anything but without any good reasons, I don’t find it good. I had been waiting for him to come home. I wanted to open the door as he returned, and I wanted to serve him dinner like a good wife would do. But rather a not-so-in-a-rush person, he is always late by the count of my time. Earlier in the evening, I told him, ‘you will reach home only after three hours,’ and he replied that he comes home straight from the game and it isn’t 3 hours. But I was right. We humans always keep record of time in our head when we are supposed to wait for someone. And so when that someone doesn’t return in the expected time, you get impatient. I thought I will not call him but I did when I thought he should have been home. He said, ‘I’m on my way honey.’ I thought it wouldn’t take 10 minutes to reach home...

He never comes His reason I don't know But I wait, and I wait Not the first time Not even second But I still wait How long, I wonder Yes, how long? And would I still wait? Oh no, there's no question I've waited long I'm scarred bad I'm only human I tried And wait I can, no more Goodbye honey Separate ways is what you seek Here's freedom you've chosen