Reviving Blogging

Pic: Pinterest

Blogging was a rage then, I used to check now and then for the updates from fellow bloggers and it never disappointed me. Whenever I refreshed the reading lists, there used to be new updates. Time has changed since then, after almost a year or two break from blogging, looks like almost all the bloggers I used to ardently follow left or are hardly active. So, I am not only the one who lost touch with the world of blogging. Only couple of posts from few bloggers surfaces on the reading list. I was curious enough to check individual blogs hoping its some technical glitch and error with my settings for no updates. Sadly, it is not as majority of them last updated a year or two ago and few domain doesn’t even exist.

There is a strange ache of loss and longing for wanting to see them writing again. Then, I realize moving on is the way of life. We can never hold on to past and block the inevitable future or mess the present. We must learn to accept the truth. Sooner, the better. What happened to us? Did really living and responsibilities engulfed our passion? Reality check; the work pressure, social and domestic responsibilities, family time and at an end of a day, we hardly have a time to spare to write. We are exhausted, aren’t we? The cycle plays on loop and blogging got sidelined. Well, that’s what happened to me plus I didn’t have anything meaningful to write. Not worthy of publishing even if I managed to scribble. Not that it makes sense now but I am trying to do what gives me a joy. It has always been my escape and it always will be, for that sole reason, I am reviving blogging.

People blog for different reasons and for me, it has always been personal. I am kind of weird, I wouldn’t say half the things I write. I expressed well through writing. If I have to say, words get clogged on throat and feeble heart gave away. Not a vocal person but if I am given a liberty to express in writing, I can go on and on, like Rachel Green of F.R.I.E.N.D.S sitcom, can write 16 pages letter  front and back.

Past couple of years after graduation have been roller coaster ride both professionally and personally. I have shelved myself in and cut all the ties from the world. I just wanted a lone time to figure and understand the meaning of life. Quite a quest (laugh), am yet to get the answer but I got redirected to path of enjoying the process of living. Getting too philosophical? Yay, stop me but that’s the reason I am blogging, to share the journey and learning from the life. Take anything that comes on your way, it teaches us many valuable lessons. I am still a lost soul finding way back home but can safely say that am better than the person I was yesterday. Each day, I am trying best to be better version of myself. Hope I will rise above ground and I have many things to learn. Being positive to be positive towards everything.

Writing is a haven for my soul, and blogging shelters it.

Lesbo

Friend: Everyone will have better luck than me.

              For me I always lose my love no matter how hard I try.

Me: Oh

Friend: There always comes a challenger

              And this time it’s you (angry emoticon)                           

   Lesbo (*frown* *frown* *frown)

Me: My luck (*tongue out* *tongue out* tongue out*)

Friend: I always doubted your feminine version

             And I was not wrong.

Me: Hahhaa

I too felt that

A guy inside my soul.

Friend: Wish I could kill that guy version in you.

Me: Hahaha

Btw will loving a guy make me ‘gay’?

Coz I once loved a guy. ROFL

Friend: You won’t be considered gay but the one love you is definitely a gay.

              Hahahahahaaa

So it all started when a guy friend of mine fell in love at first sight with my best friend. A painful one sided love story it became. Unrequited love groomed his writing bringing out poet and romantic author (blessing in disguise, I guess). I must admit that he was always good at writing, he needed little push which a love gave him, a painful push in fact…oops. So after a real long persuasion when his love wasn’t wholly reciprocated, he finally left everything in God’s hand, mind it he never really gave up. What choice he had rather to leave everything at mercy of fate? Love can’t be forced. 

Now he partly thinks I am responsible and he blames me for robbing his love; I am a healthy competitor for him. Can’t help laughing. Can’t defend him because we (me and my best friend) are very much in love. Ho..ho..hold on, of course not in the way you guys are thinking. Love in divine way. No words can really describe what really exist between us. Without pretense, I can be comfortably myself with her. We share a weird dream of going to faraway place leaving the strings of responsibilities behind. Together, child within us come out and we don’t care about the rest of the world. We giggle, play, laugh and do all the stupid things enough to raise eyebrows of anyone who sees us.

Where by my relation with a guy friend is more of a cat-dog type; we can’t stand sight of each other till we insult each other. All derogatory lines surfacing out of our mouth like we had grudge of past 6 generations and it is the last chance we have to insult each other. That is the beauty of individual. Dude! Even if your place is in the bottom of my heart, you are within my special circle. I need you in my friendship circle to make me realize how great my other friends are. Hahaa….I am so used to insulting you….Even when I want to say something good, things like “Jerk” will come out first followed by many worst line. I simply don’t know how to be polite with you.   

P.s: Both of you are damn special. Wish you guys a luck :D  

Just Friends

I tagged along my guy friend to buy kitchen items. For the beginner, I need those essential and basic things to settle down. I am going to start living myself, independently. We hopped from shop to another looking for something good but unfortunately ‘something good’ turns out to be very expensive and those falling under the range of my budget weren’t up to the marks. I needed the best one at reasonable price (Wink). Welcome! To real life of independence, where you started to own ‘spoon’ bought from the hard-earned money of yours.

One point, we dropped by internet cafe to buy ‘movies’ though I must admit that things have changed since I started working. I can hardly complete a movie without falling asleep; there were times when I used to stay whole night watching series, next day directly attending the class. I must have been ‘super girl’ at that time. It costs Nu. 50 per movie. ‘Whoahhh’ it is too expensive, I told him how we used to download every latest movies in the college. Meanwhile transferring, we casually talked with the owner of an internet cafe and my friend asked from where we can get gas stove in the market.

He replied question to us “Newly married? I immediately corrected “No…no…just friends” by laughing off and my friend too was laughing. It was not his mistake to think like that, we gave the impression of it; a guy and a girl shopping for the basic things to settle down, if I were him, I must have thought the same. It is the flaw of the society; no guy and a girl can be just friends, a society made a trend of judging that way. He is more of an elder brother to me than a friend, a caring one in fact. He addresses me ‘Chungku’. I can say a brother from different mothers though it will question the fidelity of my father, jokes apart.

In one shop, I met a friend of high school; she was also with a guy, buying buckets, ladle, cups and all. Seems, she too was settling down like a dancing dust after vibrant youthfulness in the sky. She asked me “Your husband?” Gosh! I thought “really?” what was wrong with the people. I said again “Just friends”. It turned out; a guy she was with is her husband. I congratulated them and went venturing the things I needed to buy.

My friend said his father was in town and he had some work with him. I didn’t accompany him knowing it will give only ‘one impression’, an impression of a couple. He didn’t ask me twice, may be knew how a mind of an old man works. I chose to wait for him in a bookstore nearby which led me to buy books though it wasn’t in my priority list at that time.

The next day I had to go and get gas cylinder early in the morning, so I was going for a sleepover at friend’s house that was going to accompany me. I couldn’t take things with me, so I had to keep things with someone I know. That Uncle notoriously asked “Boyfriend?” I shake it off and said “Guy friend.”

He wasn’t convinced because he asked about the other guy, confused, I asked “Which one?” from the way he looked I understood what he thought of me. I at least had a curtsy to answer his questions. I was little infuriated with the way some people thinks. I felt sorry for those who got only one track thought. He has a shop below my office; from there he can clearly see me walking up and down. I got couple of guy friends who sometimes drop by my office, sometimes in a group and other time alone. I always walk them till basement simply because they are my friends. I enjoy a company of good people that I don’t mind hanging with them in a bar till midnight even if I am an only girl. I feel so secure with them because they are the people worth trusting. What others think about me is none of my business, so I am letting it pass. An only thing matter is what I think of myself.

By the way being ‘just friends’ between opposite gender is the trending fashion in the world of friendship.

Wrong Turn!

“What was that, the trailer of wrong turn?” I asked myself.

The merciless slashing of the bodies, the skillful yet swift beheading of men, the floating bodies in angry bloody flood and I was in the isle, injured, at my best to survive.

Then I realized it wasn’t a trailer of Wrong Turn but replica of ‘Bajiroa Mastani’ I watched before I slept.

The gruesome nightmare woke me in the wee hour, the morning cold scolded me to sleep, the mattress begged me to stay, the blanket lured me to embrace it and a mind, a slave of my lazy body almost readily agreed to it when I heard Apa in stern tone “ Woo sho Tshering! hang ya zamin rang mangiwa dabu yebchona.”

“Apa please wai…dasu yephey.” I begged hugging blanket tightly.

“Woosho yegpa na. Wunthan Amchi ga toh tey chos pey rumcho.” Apa said again. I could hear the clinking of utensils from kitchen confirming she needs help in the kitchen.

Wrong turn! I don’t want to disappoint my parents again. I reluctantly but guiltily woke up, promising to be more responsible. Apa is currently doing M.Ed at Paro and Ama, Memey and siblings came from Gelephu Tsachu and we are houseful at Amchi’s place. And it was not the best act to sleep like a log when a fireplace oven demands the log to be fed.

One wrong turn and you are doomed.

Rough Start

Only the sound of shoes and heels reverberated despite the queue of people waiting for the visiting hours. Both anxieties and excitements shone in their face. It reads 5:56pm, four minutes to go. People rushed, I directly went to level 3 at ICU section. Uncle greeted me with a weak smile and directed to a place where he was kept. The security guard on the way said we can’t go inside. Uncle requested and begged saying I am patient’s sister, guard let us visit him and asked us to make our visit short. Am I the only one who feel whole hospital set up is so intense and depressing, can’t it be little livelier?

As we went nearer him, I saw him lying but inclining on the bed, living with the help of various technology and machines. He wasn’t he; not a chubby healthy smiling person I last saw him. His eyes fluttering, traces of tears at the corner of eyes, mouth slightly opened, he looked like he hadn’t eaten for months as flesh abandoned his bone. I felt my heart at mouth and I broke at that moment seeing a cousin just two years older battling for the life.

R.I.P Cousin

I couldn’t meet uncle’s eyes; eyes of a helpless father filled with a terror as he saw his son dying in front of him. Moist filled eyes that were looking for a miracle for his ailing son. When I asked him what his disease is, uncle said Doctors are yet to diagnose it, though ‘TB malignancy’ was suspected and he was being treated for that. Uncle recounted his every memorable childhood stories to the details of last few months of sickness. One day when uncle was back for a lunch, a cousin woke at that moment and confronted them saying that they didn’t care him well saying that somebody chopped off his hair in their presence. Another time, he asked them to fetch a person at door who he said has come to treat him though nobody was there actually.

At 8:00pm, an uncle whose daughter at 21 was admitted due to chronic kidney failure informed us that our patient’s health had further deteriorated. Fear gripped us as we looked at each other’s eyes and began praying for a miracle. A minute later, a relative informed that he is little better. We kept praying in a silence, a minute felt like a millennium and waiting seems tedious.

Precisely on 1st January, 2016 at 8:57pm, doctor said sorry to us and we lost him forever. He chooses a path, never to look back. The pain left him and he left us. He was too young to die but god felt he is too old to live. He was a 2^nd year B.Ed student at Samtse. He was at vacation, perhaps a vacation so long that he might never return to his institute.

The cremation took place at 11:26am on 4^th January, which lasted more than 5hours and when finally his ashes were sprinkled on the river, he went to the place beyond our reach yet to everyone’s destination.

What is new about this ‘New Year 2016’ is that old faces are vanishing from my life. I think 2016 is the year to lose the people around me; some to death and some to situation. Both can brings tears in eyes and haunt me enough. I am looking for the reason; the reason to live knowing we are to die ultimately and sometimes abruptly. The reason to live without feeling; when we can feel, we can feel the pain and when the pain feels us, we are hurt bringing unbearable sufferings in life.

Death is an old phenomenon yet every time it strikes us, the pain we feel is new and fresh.

Sugar

“Do you want a tea?” my colleague asked.

“Yeah…thanks.” I said continuing to work on estimation and BoQ.

“Hey…put 2 two cubes of sugar.” I added.

“Huh? What happened today, you usually drink tea without sugar?” She asked curiously. When I first joined, she gave me a coffee…too sweet for my liking so I barely touched a cup.

With the passing days and blending atmosphere, I told her that I prefer tea without sugar. She noted that though she forgets sometimes *smile*.

“My life is too sour and bitter these days. I need to bring sweetness in it. So I am thinking of starting by adding sugar in a tea.” I said as a matter of fact but she brushed off by laughing “Oyeee” while handing me a cup of tea.

I sipped from the tapering white colored cup; I grimaced with the taste unable to gulp the concentrated sweetness.

She looked at my face studying the reaction and laughed, “I put three instead, so your life can be sweeter in jiffy.”

I made a face, what kind of; I don’t know…I bet not the pleasant one.

“My fault, I need sweetness in my life not in a tea.” I muttered, barely audible to myself.

< Baby >

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yes, I am.” She said with a beautiful laugh further confusing me.

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows wanting to believe her.

“I mean it.” Yet another laugh escaped from her.

“Ok” sigh “why now?”

“What’s wrong with ‘now’? She particularly stressed ‘now’.

“Seriously? You are 50 now.” I laughed at her face not wanting to believe but wishing she meant every word.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in a serious tone.

“Do you know what are you agreeing to?” I wanted to confirm she really wants this.

“Yes…. I am, with full determination and commitment.” She looks convincing.

“What will people say about it?”

“I don’t care. Wait a minute…. I will say it is your child.” We laughed; it is such a pleasant discussion.

“Hahaa…people will believe it.” I managed to say between vibrating laugh.

“Even if I say it’s mine, people will not believe and will think it’s yours as I am 50 and you are 22.” She made her stand clear.

“No problems as long as you are agreeing to take that child.” I couldn’t help smiling.

“Promise me, you will raise that baby well.” I wanted to ensure the future of a child.

“You have any doubt?” her teasing tone further made me doubt her words.

“Yes…..I am doubtful. You are excellent mother of three. You raised your kids well but here, it is different. Due to personal obligations, her mother is ready to give in safe hand.” I stressed ‘safe’ making sure she gets it.

“Have I mistreated you ever since you are not my child?”

“Come on! It’s different case. I am your sister’s daughter. We are related. There is no question of mistreating me. She is different…a stranger’s daughter, a special baby.”

“What difference will it make? I need a kid around and she needs a mother. Our situation is like a jigsaw puzzle perfectly fitting each other.”

“You are growing old and she is too young. If you need kids around, I am sure you will have your own grandchildren after couple of years. Here, the security and future of that baby girl is in question.” I sounded mature to myself.

The discussion got stuck there with no sign of further movement. I feel for the little life that is unaware of the people weaving her fate; tangling, juggling, tossing and messing with her life. She is a god gifted, a miracle child who deserves the best in the world. And unfortunately, I realized I am not the best choice for her. Forget it…not even close to being good for her.

Walk

The sun hides behind the gloomy cloud depriving the world of its warmth of this cold winter, the chill of winter breezes can be felt despite the layers of clothes on. In the midst of dancing dust, moving vehicles, rushing people, I am one of the heads walking on the streets of the town. Blowing warm air, rubbing my palms together and bringing it on my face, tightening the muffler so there is no room left for air to sneak; I walked straight to the place where I belong. The night announces its arrival too soon, the wind is wilder than I ever experienced, and people are so distant. I focused on the road, careful to avoid bumping with people or potholes on the road. Unconsciously scanning the faces and noticing how different and beautiful each person is; appreciating the beauty, innocence, confidence, style and uniqueness of each individual and imagining how beautiful the world will be, if we know everyone, everywhere or anywhere. The warmth in strangers are yet to reach their eyes, the connection yet to get linked and the welcome yet to feel, but I believe the sun of tomorrow promising new rays of hope. 

As I walk this walk in the crowded street, only assurance is that tomorrow will be better; the sun will be brighter and warmer, dust little calmer, wind little milder and the people more friendly.

I take my cell, plug the earpiece and play the music. Perfectly, Hozier at his best begins singing ‘Someone New’. I get immersed in his song as it perfectly suits the situation

Go take this the wrong way
You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you
Only blue or black days
Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose

Would things be easier if there was a right way
Honey there is no right way

And so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new

There's an art to life's distractions
To somehow escape the burning weight
The art of scraping through
Some like to imagine
The darker caress of someone else I guess any thrill will do

Would things be easier
If there was a right way, honey there is no right way

And so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new

I wake, at the first cringe of morning
And my heart's already sinned
How pure how sweet the love beneath it yeah
You would pray for him

'Cause God knows I fall
In love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day

Love with every stranger, the stranger the better
Love with every stranger, the stranger the better
Love with every stranger, the stranger the better
Love with every stranger, the stranger the better

And so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new

Will You?

Who will cry when you die?

Yes! A book by my all-time favorite Robin Sharma but I am yet to venture into the beautiful journey.  Yet I find myself wondering who will cry when I die? Will you?

The tittle triggers the memories from the Korean melodrama ’49 Days’ I watched in 2012. Forgive me; I am not very good with the names. So here it goes like this, a protagonist, a girl of twenty something meet with life changing car accident just before an engagement or a wedding (my bad, I forgot). There, she is clinging between life and a death but a messenger of death, Scheduler as he calls himself give her a time of 49 days to complete a task. A simple task to collect three drops of tears genuinely shed for her from three different person excluding families and kin. A task, when completed, she will be able to live, if not she has to die. Just three drops of tears, sounds ridiculously easy right? Include me, I thought so too.

As the story unfolds and days counted, she discovers that the tears people shed for her were just in the sake of expectations of the society. People she loves were with her due to some ulterior motives. A heartbreaking journey to collect just three drops of tears will definitely make you genuinely shed true tears for a girl in the screen. She will make you wish that your tears can be counted to save her. While she lost the hope of survival from the betrayal from the loved ones, I couldn’t help standing in her shoes and questioning myself. The questions remain here; will she succeed to complete a given task in just 49 days?

I was wondering if I die, will there be anyone who will cry with the genuine feelings of lost? Will they miss my presence, yearn to hear my laugh, see me play and crack joke with them? Will people miss me when I am gone?

Who will cry when I die, will you?

That Girl

***If you don't write when you don't have time for it, then you won't write when you DO have time for it***

She was amiable,

Not very hard to read

But beyond understanding

She was a mystery,

Inhibiting the mind

Of those who try to decipher.

Nobody knew the color of her feeling

For it kept changing

A moment it was red, yellow,

Green, white or black

But blue was prevalent.

Everyone saw the exhaustion

In the beads of sweat

But not her pain

In the grilled of emotions.

And there was no heal,

For her body wasn't in a pain

But her soul was on the quest.

And she was flawless with the way

She carried her flaws with an ease.

She was no less in agony

But it was no less miracle

To see her moving on.