The Train

image source:rightmoney.com

Before college, I’d never even seen a train, let alone ventured south of India. I used to fantasize about epic train journeys, sketching landscapes or flipping through star magazines, just killing time in the most glamorous way possible. Well, dreams do come true, folks, because I was about to experience a train trip so legendary it might as well be the stuff of novels.

Let me tell you, if you’re picturing southern railway food as gourmet, prepare for a shock. My 54-hour marathon from New Jalpaiguri to Salem (yes, the mango paradise) felt like it could single-handedly tilt the Earth off its axis. But Indian Railways has its own charm, and it’s all about patience. The trains might be gloriously late, but they’re an adventure.

Packing is a workout in itself, especially during boarding and deboarding. You start with a cup of coffee at the station, followed by a parade of mineral water bottles. For a tasty start, indulge in puris, bread omelettes, and cutlets. Then the train arrives—her majesty, dressed in maroon and blue, looking like she just stepped out of a royal procession.

Once on board, the real fun begins. In sleeper class, you get to meet all kinds of people. You might shed a tear for someone missing out on fancy shoes while you’re lamenting your own lack of luxury. It’s a rollercoaster of empathy, with some moments straight out of a Shakespearean play. And let’s not forget the “chhakas” in sarees who’ll try to sell you everything from lipsticks to hand creams, while calling you by Bollywood star names. It’s all part of the experience—and your wallet might be lighter for it!

The sleeper class is a world of its own. It's not about comfort, but about making the most of what you’ve got. Another round of chai (or maybe just tea if you prefer) pairs perfectly with youthful guavas and spicy cucumber slices. As for the food, don’t expect momos or thukpa—this is Indian Railways, where you might find yourself eating egg rice or, if you’re lucky, some train chicken.

The scenery is breathtaking: buffaloes cooling off in homemade ponds, bungalows surrounded by coconut and banana trees. And if you’re ever on the hunt for cashews, be prepared for a bargaining showdown. Picture this: a cashew seller, trying to hawk his wares to a friend named Chettri, who’s holding out for a bargain. The seller’s reaction to Chettri’s low offer was so hilarious, we all nearly split our sides laughing.

Train rides are also a great opportunity for some social time—whether it’s playing cards with a bit of palm slapping or trying to ration your dried fish and beef. And after a vacation, walking back to college feels like a breeze. Just a tip: for bathing on a train, bring a jug and prepare for an unexpected steam bath. You’ll want to refresh yourself after a standing shower experience that’s as memorable as it is essential.

You’ll pass through major stations and witness sunrises and sunsets that could inspire poetry. When it rains, the droplets on the window create a magical effect. The trains might not always be punctual, but they’re always full of stories.

I’ve never had an AC seat, but those southern train journeys are a chapter of joy and adventure in my life’s book. I’ve promised to return because, for me, those moments of simple happiness are worth everything.

Angay BOU- A Tale of Suja and Wisdom

Dear Bou,
It's been 7 years.How have you been?. I always confide myself that ,by now you must have reborn as a good human being somewhere,someplace.Well except for your baba  (She believes tobacco consumers would be punished in hell) and your little wild anger,I have no doubt your meritorious deeds would out law your little mischief.Your white stars must have given you wings to discover your own good path.It was one dull summer evening. I just got down in Thimphu after the completion of my degree from India.The Mahindra bolero  taxi had left a lasting smell of diesel on my carry bag.So much powerful that I had a complete fuzzy dizzy feeling throughout the journey.

The mid summer rain beat down the tender branches of trees along the road side and my heart ached.The journey had been  a rough ride ,unexpected surprises and I knew something was wrong.

Tears roll down my youthful cheek and I silently cried with a heavy blow.I arrived there just one week after her final rituals.

In this picture,my niece Shelkar spending a quality moment with Bou

Time flew by. We shared,we cherished and lived the moments. Your immortal words remained inscribed in me and I found in myself, a beautiful me.Her goiter is her signature and I lovingly call her angay Bou.

Bou is energetic,Bou is a confident woman.Bestowed me with her thoughts of old time stories,struggles of life ,poetry,folk songs and jokes apart.I always see in her,high level of tolerance and acceptance.life has not always been a perfect ride.I am often a keen listener opening my mind's eye to those intuitive wisdom, bountiful insights and life's thrilling challenges and experience.

Bou proudly lived up to 86,devoting herself into evening and morning prayers.She  prostrates in the altar every evening, thanking god for letting her feel the presence and overflowing blessings.The Triple Gem in giving her strength in facing trials .She prays for the welfare of all the sentient beings.Her meal time had prayers with humble bow to the food she eats, as she lifts her daem (wooden bowl/plate) on forehead.I don't really question whether somebody above us do really watch our actions.But ultimately her good thoughts and humble submission derives her positive energy keeping her healthy and happy.Suja had been her favorite tea.As long as hot steaming butter tea fills her cup,she will not let even barley flour spill out of the cup's edge.The genuine smile on her wrinkled face resembles just like the bright glows of the moon at dark.

My journey into life has always been inspired through others' story of courage ,values and daring attitude.On my vacation and back to college ,she has the habit to wrap up a scarf for me. With ngultrum hundred in her hand and tears in her time-faded eyes,

 "Tashi,my only note for you is, avoid riding on bike in India".Be good and do good.Simple ,profound and precise wisdom indeed.The colorless hair and her body ache reminds me of her crippling age and withering strength.

It was until in my final year.That one day I had a phone call from home.It was my mother."Tashi,angay wants to speak to you",she said.

Angay bou's voice was at the brink of her death and she struggled in her last moments.She just uttered ,"My dear,you don't need not worry bout me mey",she said."I am confident that you will walk with good foot steps in life and please don't ride on bakbaa (bike/scooter)".Those were her last words.

There was never a sleep in my eyes and rest to my eyeballs .All the exams were finally done.It was time to go home.The bolero's diesel reminded me of that journey back home.

On auspicious occasions,I recall her smile by lighting butter lamps in the name of all sentient beings.

The living moments are always recaptured and recalled even today after 7 long years.

It is always good to remember:-

“A river never passes the same place twice,” says a philosopher. Our life's beautiful moment are indeed like a river.

Her Fury on Monday's Miss Call...

It was perhaps an unexpected moment.But sometimes its right that what can't be cured must be endured.I studied science,Geography and i also have trust in it.But m serious when coming to beliefs too,perhaps because may be i was brought up in my little mythical world,of gods and goddess,of trust and faith,of truth and karmic justice.At the end i always love my bhutanese perspective of viewing things.I linger in my mind all the time,exploring inside like a NASA space research.At the end its the inner peace ,the discovery i make.
As usual i was working in the office,when suddenly i felt my arm chair trembling.just wondering ,out of shock,"am i suffering some kind of driziness"?.i Just peeped outside through my small glass pane.A driver was wiping off dust from his troika without any feelings.I realized,it was perhaps just my psycho notion that doze me off.It lasted about 2-3 minutes.Then i realized,it was Earth shaking off her hips."Why of sudden she got pissed off?",i asked my self.We Bhutanese are so devoted and we love all the companions around us,we respect care and love her,may be somewhere something might have gone wrong.Is this a kind of mass punishment?,or can i call it perhaps a miss call of pseudo world that we bhutanese are slowly heading towards,the degrading values,moral ethics,an artificial smile on faces without an inner happiness.We might have in a little way wronged her.We dont deserve this,i cried.But gently this time we got to accept,we might have crossed our limits perhaps.This self realization had alarmed me several times and i thought to just put up in some corner to wake my fellow friends from the path of pseudo world that just lie untrodden.In the Evening was the news from different parts,killings,injuries,all of destruction and damages.I just stood silent and my inner mind wondered with many clouded thoughts,only i can do to the victims and injured was to cry within,the hardest thing,no tears but a feeling of sympathy and a shattered dreams of my bhutanese mates who have been this tragic victim.

At the end the best help i could do is to lit a butter lamp and say a humble prayer
for all those who have been affected.

May we show no envy and not fury her again by repeating the same mistake what other humans around the globe had done for the sake of materialism.
we create our own atmosphere and surrounding and lets not blame anyone for it.If anything goes wrong,its the impact of our own creatiion and cause.Lets be aware of this MOnday Miss CALL for it might happen someday again if we dont react .