See You Next Year

Its been now so silent in the evening,i felt a rhythm of tranquility beating through the nerves of my body. Oh!,its Friday 31st December,2010.The time in my computer reads 4:05pm.I got down from a day's work,so that i would leave my self a time to post a final adieu to 2010 somewhere in a corner like this, like a diary keeper who wouldn't like missing an important event get skip by without being written down somewhere.My office mates leaving their desk greeting other fellows,"Happy New Year 2011".I quickly gave them back,Sir!,Madam!,See you next year.A shocking response from another table threw the words back.. ,"what, next year?,oh,yeah,yeah...he finally nodded and agreed."Wish you a prosperous 2011 sir!,",and he did vanished from the main entrance.
Its been quite windy,here in thimphu in the afternoon hours.I rushed and drive through the dried fallen leaves and twigs of willow that lie untrodden on the high way winter roads to my house, only to confirm that the sangpho bowl(incense burning bowl) is inside the house and later drive back to take my love for a new year lunch at Mid point restaurant,somwhere in the heart of magical Thimphu city.I had a friend who works in Mongar.He had a day full of sunshine,and we shared our heartfelt greetings for advance happy days ahead.
Well with year 2010 having been completed,its my 2 years in civil sevice serving my country and people through ICT services and asistance to my knowledge and rest from the experience and exposure taught to me from seniors.Some People often complain of having no work or playing games on desktop or simply facebooking from morning to evening,or finding scholarship programs,it may be right or to some extent rumours,but in all,i am sure,there are lot many works to be done.Infact when there are more responsibilities,we learn much more and get maximum of exposure.The sense of taking part and idea of having more responsibilities means a desire to learn more beyond the boundaries.The innovation and flaming desire of serving and excitement of my first day to the office is still within me and i ll keep the spirit no matter whatever lies on the way.
My parents,relatives,friends had been very supportive all the way.
It had been very the most wonderful times of my life and i must confirm to express here the amount of unfailing happiness and richness that i am endowed with for having a true friend like Sangay Thinley (nick name:khengpait@gmail.com/Pema Samdrup),he is blessed with so many names,while others have hardly two.
The warmth and love of another Sangay ('Miss Irish Coffee','one small window',my love and honey made me complete.Thanks to 2010 and years gone by,which otherwise i have never knew the value of 'living in the moments..' And there still many important people who had given me a true meaning of friendship and taught me essence of life.It gives me a complete sense of satisfaction to name all these people who made me and gave me the meaning of beautiful life.I wish you all,where ever you are ,"a very prosperous Happy new Year".I promise beyond words like the actors to their fans,to work and live upto the expectations of my country,friends,parents and my love.

To all the bloggers,incase if you come across these lines,you people had been the sole inspirer.Believe me,your writings had been very innovative and i breath to every pages of your post.These really made me discover an inner voice within me,to fall in love with writing.I promise,i am not a good writer,but my love for writing made me reflections and random thoughts within me.Good or bad,down the memory lane,at times it makes me happy to flip to the pages what i have written some day.An expression of what my thoughts did convey.What else i want more than this self discovery within me?

The years gone by had been really beautiful days and months.I am a two year old and the life had given me many wonderful adventures new meaning and purpose.


To all of You:
MAY THIS NEW YEAR BRING NEWLY FOUND PROSPERITY, LOVE,HAPPINESS AND DELIGHT IN YOUR LIFE...
Happy new year 2011

I was in Class PP A that time..

My dear Fountain Pen and Chelpark Ink,
I was proudly in class II since you were introduced to me.My handwriting was quite horrible,so big,hen-prints that lay aside on muddy clay garden perhaps.It was a rhyme that taught me from PP-down..up..down..up till the words turn into some colorful art.My class teacher Miss Yangchen had a tough time turning my stiff hands work into form. My lips would turn dark of soaking pencil into mouth to get the dark letters. My exercise book almost get bath into cooking oil that leaks out from my pack lunch.Still i manage to maintain a Geometry box rich with pencils,all marked with compass points,won from the compass match that requires a little narrow tunnel shaped and throwing at the pencils-a bet from the players.

It was later i choose to go for marbles than compass game.My luck was not good,you know.We had a group of friends who take pipe cycle to the school.A pipe cycle is a circular pipe with metal handle that chase the pipe wheel to turn while keeping balance without falling down.It was not about Apa reaching you in Mercedes,but a distance of more than 15 kilometre walking in a liberty shoe with village mates.A bully is sure on the way.You got to have techniques of giving them a chocolate or bribe,so that you don't get screw up.School going was really fun for me.Despite hurdles and tiredness,we live through apple orchards,peach ,plums like monkeys.The long distance walk would be enough to exhaust up all your breakfast energy by the time you reach to school.It was in the very first period,that you started falling a good nap,unless a bee sting from the back of ear wakes you up and you would then realized,all class mates chuckling at you and teacher taking all the energy to pull your ear up.Haha.I was at least lucky not to have experience the taste of prick nettle leaves on my butt like my friends.

Life in school is really interesting,even in the high school days,i lost up all my english exam paper time just writing 5-6 pages 20 mark essay on school life,because life is really beautiful and i felt it,that's why those memories never gets wipe out.

Well,dear fountain pen , I mean to be more specific,the Chinese Hero Pen and the chelpark ink,i still miss these two equipment.You know here in office, we don't have to use the pen frequently, that's why i lost all the beauty and the skills,art and connection with you.Still then this is a letter to You.

The class II A were in their most exciting moments,as they can now start using the pen.Some big handwriting,that goes off the exercise book track,some torn out their pages of ink flow on their book,some blue mouths,on ear,face,desk whatever,that's a scenario from a typical Class II A students pride in having a privilege of using fountain pen.The beauty of using a fountain pen,early morning i rise up rushing to brush up my shoes to get some cherry polish,only to washed with mud on the way,and filling up chelpark ink in the hero pen.After the breakfast,then its a time to go to school.Calling the friends and we rush in a queue with pipe cycle.

Beautiful moments of life still makes me and sometimes,i feel like going back again to the time where i come from.It is then helpless,I can just feel the life,i can silently write somewhere how beautiful those days are.

The Interpretation of Ata Kesang's happiness

It dates back to the days when Ata Kesang Tshering like other ordinary school going chaps can find jobs like treasure cave. You just need to point at the best gem.Gone were the days,where you get free even the soaps and towel at a remote boarding school.
"Our days of school had made us bold and brave,rising as early as lark,toiling through the dense forest,crossing massive rivers,walking up hills",said Ata.

"Today I am happy because those hardships and beautiful moments had given me sense of great contentment and happiness".

53 years old,Ata Kesang from Tashigang Thrimshing has been serving the country since 1975.Today he works in one corner of Flood Warning Section office under the Department of Hydromet Service.
Going to office has lots of fun.It's not just about the work of the day.Ata brings his favourite yellow -white stripped pack lunch hot-case ,and he opens up the aroma of kewa datse from his sumptuous vegetarian meal. His sweet wife has prepared his day's meal with all love and care.He could easily sense it from the taste of his lunch.

Today is Thursday.It's exactly 1:00pm.He shouts 'choai' 'choai' in sharchopkha dialect.The alarm signals the rest of his fellow mates reminding them for lunch time.Every one breaks out for lunch .
At times,it is hard to find space at the canteen.People like Ata Kesang finds a joy in togetherness. The taste of food is one,the conversation after food is another.It is here that I was introduced to his way and world of simple and humble living,a satisfied yet dignified style of life dedicating his free time to prayers .He spends a meaningful time with his children and make sure that they get enough of his attention and good values.

The earlier conversation we had at our lunch time was his profession and the times of his life.Ata was infact country's second group and the batch of students who were trained in wireless telegraphy operation.They were known as Babus-indeed wireless Babus,of higher profession.Initially as Ata recalls,there were only 13 of them.Some resigned now,few promoted as heads in several agencies,several others still at Bhutan Telecom.

It was in Eighth standard when Ata Kesang with group of friends decided to join the service offered by the Royal Government.There were many opportunities and scope.Competition wasn't that tough. Ata always had a notion to get a job,not because you get paid but that excitement and curiosity to serve and stand on your feet is a dream.His passion to be able to operate wireless telegraphy was of latest communication technology during the time.They were trained for almost one year in its operation.
The Wireless telegraphy at that time was under Information and communication.It was later used effectively for hydro-Met services in the country where Ata served as a part of the team.He received Nu 150 during the training phase.Later was incremented to Nu 250 per month as his salary. The wireless telegraphy uses code and morses.As Ata recollects, many of our people did make best use of it.However they also need to pay for a certain group of texts typed and sent."Initially we just had the message system,which was later upgraded to voice communication",said Ata.

Everyday Ata comes to office as early as 8:00am .His task for the day mainly includes fetching weather data updates from numerous stations across the country.For instance,Mongar,Samtse,Dagana,Chukha Sunkosh,Mangdechu sershong,Tendru and Deothang.Once he gets done with the morning routine,he prepares for the second update in the evening.If you happen to be around flood warning office,you would probably see Ata Kesang with wireless voice system  receiving and noting down the data  as far as from Lunana. The data is then being used for rainfall,flood and other weather analysis.

Away from work,Ata is a self sufficient and contented person leading good times of his life with children and his sweet wife.The savings he made from earnings is enough to take his wife and family for a yearly pilgrimage tour to bodhgaya.Ata walks all the way from Chanjiji to the office place with group of friends,conversing and sharing cheerful moments of life.He also takes advantage of the  city Buses.These buses had a theme,"Take a ride and be happy", which is similar to his noble philosophy of life and happiness.

He never had been late to office till date.
Ata looks forward for continued good times of life.Not only he prays for his family's welfare,he lays all his heart for the happiness and well being of the sentient beings.Just as he finds joy and contentment  in every simple thing,each day he discovers a great sense of INNER PEACE and meaning of living. 

Somewhere in 1960s..A story from my Late Grandmother's Diary

"For Sangay,what he thinks is,life without crossing troubles and hurdles is at times not worth living for there wouldn't be moment of happiness or the charm of happiness cant be felt at all.In the following imaginary story,Sangay brings out the aspect of life in a rush away time..."

Officer Mindu crawled to the switch cover and finger pressed hard against the switch button that glowed the dim bulb lighting up the heaven in his hell bedroom.The sound of coughing out drops of thick blood that ardently woke up his ailing grandmother sleeping adjacent in next room.He looked back to his rolex watch,Its 1:00 am.From a freshly shattering dream that haunted life more than the harsh treatment of reality,perhaps the night he had filled up all his guts with numberless liters of alcohol, the only answer to the solution helped him fight back the justice of his fate.The aching back and nerves deteriorated the health more than tobacco smoke did cover up breathing lungs.His grandmother filled him cups of spring water that ran down and balmed his pale stomach struggling the cancerous cell counting down number of remaining days on earth.

Mindu-like the 6 sparkling stars in a crescent night, Why girls would not have a crush with him,if they have lived in his times?.Mindu could speak hindi fluently than anyone else forget about english,could recite a poem,compose songs play a professional Dramgyen and even to bagging all school rock star awards.He is a perfect traditional archer and bull's eye shooter.He even went to India through his excellent academic performance.He could speak out french somehow.

Mindu is in his late 60s.He had all the perfect begining of life that anyone wished to have crave for.In schools,a brilliant front bench chap who did never let his teachers down.He would fetch and score subject marks that never descended below 90s, a mathematics wizard,physics genius,chemistry dexter.Sometime,he even wrote a beautiful essay on behalf, that gave his girl friend-a center of literary attraction in the school.Every class,there is a mouthing of his name like the prayer chant.And Mindu for times to come,had always been an examplary ,what professors called as the finest crystal and model of models. He dare to head shaved and inspire fellow mates on every down trodden occassion.
Now people watched with wonder, how many seeds like Mindu had almighty sowed on the planet.

His story of successful journey continued and fortunate that finally he had been blessed by a handsome paying job that secured him and life of sunshine path started.That was one chapter of his life closed with successful remarks.For many a times in life,Mindu remembers one thing through all his journey of life.An unfailing trust and faith in God,perhaps he was brought out in the village through all turmoils,difficulties and shouldering family burden.He had a hardworking pious devouted father,a farmer by profession who never lead family to suffering but self reliant and independent, to him Mindu often see as his role model.

After successful completion of studies from India,Mindu settled down with life and happily married and been bestowed with a pretty daughter and sons who later grew up seeking faith in late parties than prayers in the altar,taking refuge in drugs than offering incense.Mindu later realized,it was his own fault perhaps not have taught and passed down those prayers or else could have told them stories of himself,so that they could taken it as role model and grew up as better citizens.Now they are being brought up in such a well established environmnent but without a moment of hardwork,its hard to make them realize and feel the extreme depth of natural happiness.With these moments,life had been really hard for Mindu to express the extreme inward feelings that clouded and faded all his glee of his school days although he hardly worry about the wealth.He could no more find peace even at his own home inspite of having all the latest modern infrastructure.
His own children,for him difficult even to make them understand all the realities.Mindu's wife had been a role model for gambling.Her children ever since from a baby,might not have received the motherly care.Its all in the hands of maid and baby sitter that did brought out somehow managed and untoppled.She now has to go searching for drug that would heal the pain of her beloved son.

As days passed on,the faith of life and mystery,even chanting prayers,the basic mind calming and concentration which has been Mindu's habit for years has now been lost.All he could do is,one-one turning-one-one wife.He gave his every wife a basic need such as house,and a car.
The story of his life continued,he even visit his elderly children.His initial wife had a good understanding,doesnt bother about Mindu's whereabout as long as money flows to home.Even the children later did marry and started with new beginning of life somehow.Mindu has been ignored.His own mother succumbed to death with high pressure and stresses and finally heart attack that was gifted by her beloved son.
Mindu's only true friend was a prestigious lama meditating for many years and always been away from materialistic world.With his advice,Mindu did even initiated and sponsored some good merits and deeds.The only pilgrimage that he undertook was during his father's time,that was the time when a community service was mandatory for every household and Mindu was somehow got to assist his father carrying loads to a reputed temple nearby.

Mindu's children did not heed to his words.They threw back his words,argued and his sense of giving them care and love,treating them chechy-his heartly dear as he realized was in a wrong way."I spoiled my children,and i deserved this for the justice",he uttered silently.The restless days and sleepless night hover around for every seconds of his life.
Since then life always been a burden to him.He took up alcohol and smoking as a companion.Someday he came across doctors who warned him of his failing kidney and liver.He didnt bother and that didnt mattered him even for a second thought.When he wokeup,he changed himself to come back to life and lead it peacefully,but the haunting trails did never let him escape reality bitterness.He lost all the hopes and dreams of his family and life.

For many a times,Mindu look back to life with contentment and thanked for small things that made a huge difference and height.For one thing,a mistake that he had committed,looked not as lessons,but hardest thing haunting even at his brink of death every now and then.

After life had successfully paid him back his hardwork and dedication the bitter chapters started flipping as if time did never heal and forgive for the mistakes he made.He didnt bother to look back on times,for he has now rush up everything for the last minutes of his breath
The most beautiful converation of his life was with his best friend -the lama who advised him to donate and contribute the worldly belongings to monasteries and gompas for it would help him sleep and rest in peace.

Mindu now only left with a land somewhere and his car.He sacrificed and did not find any pleasure in the worldy affairs.He sold the car and contributed half the amount for some Animal Tsithar-saving and rescuing animals from butcher/death and remaining portion donated to a monastery for construction of stupa and MANI's(prayerwheels).
The amount received through selling land was contributed to a shedra in the remotest corner.

Mindu then contemplated back to his school days and reminded of beautiful days of rockstar and of all receiving the best student award from his Principal.
His grandmother cried as she helped her dearly grand child take a last sip of water

Mindu struggled and managed to flip through the remaining pages of "Tibetan book of living and Dying" as he count down the last days on Earth and finally gave away his breath.

A dreamer who lost amidst the woods..

The perennial stream that run through the woods begin its course far flung the climax of Phajoding,a heavenly abode of gods and goddesses.

I narrate it as traditional masterpiece, hidden on the mountains where colorful prayer flags flutter and bravely stood against the mighty sky.

Stupas lay there so quiet yet so ancient,
The hills and mountains  awake me of   fairy tales,the happy endings.
I went up picking summer mushrooms.


It's Thimphu,a beautiful setting.
You fly through the woods,powered by wings of imagination
waving beyond the dancing clouds,
the Bluepines and grassy earth ,
I crept like a creature walking barefoot,
connected to the motherly earth.


The smoke incense from mountainside,
Three birds glided softly and vanished across,
I wish i could stay there forever.

A tree house,swinging from branch ,
the hush and tranquil breeze,
the cattle that graze on the meadows,

This Utopian bliss did cast an enchanting spell,
I picked up some more mushrooms,
Sooner my bag did fill up,

The city blooms in a majestic fashion,
an icon of heavenly country side,

From the hill that lounge the valley,
The awaken Buddha takes a glimpse,
The sparkle of his compassionate face,
relieves the rays of wisdom and profoundness,

I walk down through the woods,
skidding on bumpy slopes,
the echo of the mountain spring,
lasted in my thoughts,

I took the last gaze of the city,
A beauty beyond the words,
It lies there so green and so beautiful,

Summer Rain-The Remedy of my Aching Soul

Summer is one of the most beautiful season with moments of blooming perfume that lasted through call of spring reaching to every gardens and lawn.As clouds skip and walk majestically,i can't control the temptation of falling my self taken away by perfect icon of bliss.The scorching flame of day's extreme heat,worns and torns are being healed and relieved as summer rain droplets beat upon the wooden farm house shingles,through the cities of green and red metal sheets.Birds perched on the trees, dipped heads and furs up.The greenery part of scenery raises fresh and breathes out fresh tons of mother nature made-oxygen to the creatures who raise the child planet grow aside.
The blades of long flat youthful leaves and grass spread joy amidst the pathside that gave way to travellers through ages.Petals bloom and gaze as misty clouds passby with dazzling sight.An innocent pinky rose mesmerizes the fellows just by a first sight.She lay there charming and hypnotised, enough to converse to your heart's glee.
Summer Rain is the voice of mother nature's outward expression of happiness that washes and flushes away worries of dust,the negativity and impurities inside our mind.The rain at times can behave in two kinds of appearance,yet without her we are dumbed and numbed.
She is a mother, feeding to help generate revenue for the country.She is a music that provides rhythm to the farmers to help them sing life's song.She is an inspirer of life's survival.She wakes up every creature from the brink of their death bed.She leads the cycle of life and maintain its continuity.
To a photographer,she creates magic and wonder of the planet.The rain symbolises every aspect of life's element.
The beauty of landscape after a summer rainfall shouldnot be missed out in everyone's moment of happiness,because the power and charm in itself heals the weakening stationary minds of time.To me it has been a line of poetry,an escapism,reliever,healer,soothing balm and glass of wine taken with joy,pride and lasting moments of thought.

A Day in the Paddy Field...

My dear Apa and Ama,
Sorry,I couldnt come for helping you all in this most busiest time of the year,as i have some more urgent workshop days here in Seoul.But let you keep my pie and portion of work,so that when i come back,i would do my part in gathering water to the thirsty fields.

Its 5:00pm,as i took an evening walk after a day's lecture on information technology Systems.There in my room as i opened up my notebook and peeped through my yahoo email,its my sister's letter in my inbox.It read: Dear Tashi,Glad to know that you doing good there.We have just finished with our changla(paddy transplantation) a day before.

Well i still have missed this golden opportunity of connecting with nature.I dont know how people consider and take it,but for me,it has not been just a work since childhood,but an art that can heal time and remaining connected with nature.I remember recalling days with the power tractor,the farm ferrari.Its not so difficult in learning how to plough field.I heard tales of my brother plouging fields with oxen.Now how fortunate i m having been introduced to modern mechanisation,which not only ease effort but time and money.My apa had tough times of his years gathering shingles for house construction in olden days.Similarly ama was not bad,she is really a hardworking housewife.These features and qualities in them made them a perfect couple,understanding,yet quarrelsome at times."Like minds flock together everywhere" and its been true to my belief.

Life in a Bhutanese village is really interesting and peaceful.Earlier we do not have roads.The traditional way of crossing river through the wooden logs have been very popular.The busiest times of the year in farmer's life is transplantation season(changla)watering and weeding our weeds(damo and jitogni).The paddy has been oneof the most important crop,sustaining livelihood since ancient times,although mode of farming techniques had improved quite a lot after the introduction of modern machines on bhutanese soil.

Transplantation season is one of the most beautiful time of work.The work in our fields have been hectic.Usually during changla,around 20-30 people are involved only in transplantation,while 5-6 are for the langdo(mixing and pounding of mud with water)and one ofcourse with the tractor,crushing and preparation of muddy mixture.

Young group of ladies cajole throughout the day's work while transplanting the paddy in designed columns.Now with transplanting machines,a lot chunk of working is getting reduced.

The olden days parops hire and relatives come as far from Haa to help transplantation get done.In return the rice and other necessary stuffs were given as charges and payment.There were good mode of interaction through the long journeys,work,infact every place people go,the system of gross national happiness is strong although the right term has not been coined earlier.This dependency on each other made our Bhutanese stronger,happier,bonded,secure throughout times.

It is here that i realized,this important art and work,necessity in the life of our Bhutanese farmers do not get unnoticed,so that every people out there in the city can feel the presence of our roots and forefathers where we have been brought out,while understanding and imparting this living traditions to our generations as we pass down to the younger people.
There are still cases in the world where children see cows only through nursery songs and movies and portion of urban people do not have experience of countryside as rural sites turned into skyscrappers and high tech cities.There are more cases of growing crops in the town,using pesticides and fertilizers,chemicals enough to mature and ripe fruits before season.

We still have the live of living Bhutanese Village infront of our own eyes and sure it would go down the generations depicting the way Bhutanese lived throughout centuries.

Recalling my Childhood Ambition..

The other most interesting days of my school life were those when a new batch of trainees from NIE(in earlier days we call 'National Institue of Education' ) would come on thier teaching practice in schools.With smiles and new looks,they tend to make lesson very interesting through jokes,songs,poetry and even sometimes narrating their personal experiences of life and love stories of their school days.This could be perhaps one reason why we like and see them more closer and friendlier.But at times, it has its own pros and cons.

Well,infact the very first day of their class would meant a lot to us those days.It starts with introduction session and a brief psychological shock statement and question such as 'What is your ambition'. To the students is very common.Nevertheless,everyone donot seem to fear this question as answers are stereotyped.Perhaps i realized sometimes that,this question itself has lot in it.It would by asking make us visualise and set stepping stones to make goals come true.
Well i had a dream too, of flying in the air.My village is located in the heart of fertile agricultural terrains of paro valley amidst the bank of pachhu.Since my childhood,it drives me so crazy even to leave meals behind and run to our courtyard to gaze the flight soar higher and higher.The propeller of first aircraft Dronier 18 seater speeds in air as it makes a huge sound waving the monster through the clouds.That time i was just a little kid not even enrolled in school.Such was my excitement and joy.There was no sense of fear at all.Then it had always been joy to watch helicopters rotate blades as it crosses the white capped peaks like a giant bird hovering across the mountains.
This childhood 'watch and show' of excitement had kept a spark of motivation in me perhaps to become someone who can rule the sky oneday.The dream started with growth and achievements from the school days.But one fine day,a question lingered in my mind like an unpleasant dream that wakes you up from every reality.Can an opportunity be taken or otherwise can a secure vacant seat be there during my time.This sense of consciuosness awoken me up many times..perhaps high time that i opt for another field.The rise of electronic gadgets been very popular and slowly and steadly my interest in airfield started diminishing like a lantern almost reaching to the end of its fuel.I have no more mindset now,m not determined,i dont want to programme my life,i lost myself in the air of confusuion.I dont want to take a deep research on something and take life so seriously.I m a prepaid card and have validity.Now whatever comes m ready and bold to take the way ahead,i promised to be sincere to myself not serious.
It was until then my love for computers picked up.And yes i like the fun and all the applications.It helps me to network more friends,design beautiful family pages,troubleshoot confusuions,search and browse meaning of balanced life,provide security to internal mind from outside confusions.

Today yes its funny at times,but its good to recall those days,a childhood dream of pilot has now landed up in the age of information technology.Still then i do take and rule the sky riding the planes in the playstations,its cool and fun.

Most of us when we recall our childhood ambition and life now,tend to land up in different career as we change our perspective and interest and of all our love towards a particular work as we move on,whatever matters in the end is,i think we should be flexible with the change and ready to takeup anything as we love it and as we should do it..!!
.... Life is really a nature's beautiful art....

The Blooming Spring who stole my Heart...

The drizzle of spring rain dances on our little kitchen garden,which my sister cherished and cared ever since last winter's frost.

The garden has a robust iron fence with complicated pattern, which would not even spare  mice escape.

The dwarf baby sag,bean,chilly,green spinach and tuber shoots started peeping from this very fertile soil.

The soil had a compost all the way from Sangaygang.
This rain incessantly beats on a soft loosen earth,ultimately giving a kick away drink to all these cute little buddings.

I watched through my balcony.
The music of rain took me away.
The ushering cool air rushed through my fruity cruset jelled hair,
 like the afternoon spring wind ,
dancing from valleys to the green woods.

Dipped robes of fluttering prayer flags stood midst the profound sky,
When the claps finally stopped and mighty sun paved his way through the dark clouds.
I walked through the fields of this majestic spring,
A path from the hill that took me in the middle of blooming peach woods.

The road that filled with scent and flowers of young orchids,
All I could notice is the blushing cheeks of the blossoms.


The willow trees laughed,
The oak hugged,
The blue pines whistled,

To the top of my voice I roared,
Welcome back spring,
Only trees and flowers did respond,
I knew this song is the call of re-birth,
The return of hope,
The glory of happiness,


So calm,yet so fulfilling,
The soothing balm left me with years of thoughts,
Wonders and doses of beauty,
I felt like the Heaven on earth,
My heart has been stolen,
This is the kiss of spring..!!


Sangay Tashi,
written on random thoughts
Place:Thimphu,Changangkha
Spring,2010

From West to East towards South..

A beautiful sunrise across the horizon,when chirping birds gave early flights in the silent morning hush of Thimphu City,i wokeup from my Bhutan Better Product made bed,from the soft pillow of twilips color,a warmth fur of chinese silky blanket,i threw myself like a huge giant monster,hair up,and tatoo marks of towel on my face,rushed towards bathroom for a desperate shower as if been travelled in a hot place for quite a long hour of journey and missing a fresh cleanup.
Ahh..Yeah Thats it like yoke been removed from a pair of oxen in day's tiring plough,m relieved and refreshed from night's tiring dreams.


This is perhaps for the first time in my life that i m travelling to east and then towards south and back to Thimphu again.I m going to narrate a tale of an adventure,to be more precise of a young bhutanese tourist(definitely me) and his colleague(my friend)'s journey, which most of you might have experienced,but for me its unique in the sense that i m going to skecth out to you of climbing hills and mountains,down through the valleys,penetrating across thick fogs,incessant downpour,rolling boulders,bumpy tracks,across the edge of rocky scapes,country roads,while from south to north,striving hard to catch up fellow speeding cars,for you might lose track of directions,especially when you travel without knowledge of new roads and landscapes through Assam duars.Mission accomplished ,I m back to Thimphu again,driving safely.It goes like this...

Indeed every journey has its own pros and cons when goes into depth.And to me Its also a mixture of joy,fear,laughter and courage.Ofcourse i have never been to Lunana like the snow man trek do.My prayers of safe journey were answered and i m glad to have believed in faith and trust.Most probably when you drive, i m sure we ought to be more cautious and careful to avoid unnecessary accidents on our journeys.

For the fact that journeys are difficult at times,but at the end of day you wear a smile of saticfactory experience and memorable moments.A moments of having a cup of tea or a coffee in a small tea stall with only available parle-G Biscuit,an altitude sickness as you ascend higher altitudes at passes or often called La in bhutanese.My friend prefers Eastern Sikam Phakshas all the lunch menus while i feed on beefs or either Kewa or Shamu Datsi.
There is a magic in noodles(i mean maggi).I lose 3-4 kilos of not taking rice all the dinners.
Its exactly 2:00pm afternoon,At Wangdue,trees dance as if never heard music,i mean windy,a forest fire somewhere makes it quite dry.Along the glamourous yet so majestic flowing Puna Tsangchu,I see flock of wild ducks rafting,while chasing and teasing others.The sight of turquiose flowing beauty is nature's most irreplacable art.
We proceed towards our lunch somewhere near Bajo where my sister resides.
A big hug to my little nephew who is just one year old.He must have been missing his uncle who have sometimes been accompanying him for playing his toy cycle and feather ball.
Then ardently the journey of adventure continued.Along the ridges of nobding,we reached towards a spot where cutting of rocks and expansion of tracks going on.Slowly and carefully through Pelela,fluttering prayer flags smiling towards the blue sky.It then started snowing,i should rather say hail storms just for 20-30 minutes soon we descended from Pelela.The Rukubji village seems to be peeping from white ground like a shy object in the winter mist.
Sun strived his rays through the darkest clouds,and we could see potato fields and farm houses giving finest lustre.A scarecrow from a field signifies keeping wild pests at bay.
At Chendebji guest house, 2-3 cups of coffee and chocolate-flavoured biscuits gave us extreme energy to pass through narrow winding tracks of Trongsa.We halt our night in a bhutanese cottage lodge near the town.The small compact yet clean and tidy town welcomed visitors for it has a rich history and importance.
Every morning is an auspicious occassion for me,for its how every day is going to start with.A journey towards Bumthang of 68 kilometeres approximately which would take utmost 2 hours and 30 minutes drive across Yutongla descending across the the breath taking traditional sights of Chumey Valley,you then need to keep moving downwards until crossing a mountain,upwards to Jakar Dzong.Bumthang is rekonwned for most of the holy sites and also its an example of typical bhutanese life being displayed by its unique traditional house constructions.
Cutting from a rdge across Thrumshing LA, Now the next place is towards Mongar.I heard stories of Namning-BRAK and Melong BRAK.A tale of foggy and fearful trip.But m sure to explore with my own eyes this time,so doesnt matter whether rain or snow or fog on the way as long as m conscious and extra careful. And yes its damn beautiful.Very steep,as if gazing through flight window from a very high altitude.
The road towards Mongar has now been well furnished as you descend downwards,felt like m walking on cake.I noticed one difference,a change in temperature.Yeah..its hot and humid now.A night in Mongar town is so silent and peaceful as if curfew been launched.I heard of people's Earth Quake experiences 4-5 months back,when everone rush outside as the houses gave a strong shake.Even for now they are prepared to run outside if it happens.
Watching Druk Star with other hotel mates near the counter is really entertaining.
Well its hard to find lodge in TrashiGang,especially in times of festivals.The Hotels are being booked by tourist and people who come from other parts of the country.Fortunately we made it.I remember my school days when i stayed as boarder in a Lower secondary schools.The bed bugs crawl through broken scraps of wooden fungus-beds.But this time,first priority is having a shelter to spend the night.
My friend is an ex-sherubtsean,a long year back now.He pointed me his college of fame proudly,showed me popluar places.Thanks to him,for i now know Potato-House,Pregnant House,PALAS,Mountain canteen,View Point,Suicide Point.I learned lots of new facts.He chuckled and recalls his days in the college,The football ceremnoy,monsoon cup graced in a traditional manner,running through locality for a search of local brandy,the raggings,what else the popular RBGS-Rejected by girls group.
The Yongphula is now clouded with thick fog.And its been raining.The journey seems to be tough.Visibilty is extremely poor and at times i fear because its raining,soil moist and rocks lying as if waiting for a chance to knock somebody like the wrestler's trap.Slowly and steadly we headed near Khaling,a beautiful paranomic view on the hilly ridge,cluster of houses enough to mesmerise your senses.
Towards Samdrup Jongkhar,a lunch at tiny Wamrong town,sights of restaurants and small shops are coming up which once razed down by huge fire breakout.
The road seem to be going tougher.If you dont blow horn through sharp bends and turnings,speeding coming trucks would smash you through the cliffs.
Now its even more hotter than Mongar,through Dewathang,road widewning is under process and be prepared to face dust and bumpy tracks for 20-30 kilometers approximately.Norbu,my car desperately needs some shower like me.I took him to workshop in the main town.He smiles as drops of shampoo being sprayed to him.

From SamdrupJongkhar to Phuntsholing,the early 6:30 am we reached to escort point.Nearly 25-35 vehicles being queued up like during boarding school meals.We received a token of number that needs to be showed as we depart.The rough terrain,bumpy and gravels,muddy,taxis,boleros are running for now at a constant speed as Army monitors our speed at points.
At certain place we are now own our own way from Indian Border.The highway seems to be like airport runway and cars started speeding to keep track of each other.There are chances of collidng with lorries that speeds from opposite direction if you do not keep control of your car or while overtaking others,needs to be very cautious,its not like our traffic here.So 360' awareness from driver's side is extremely necessary.
Well the story of long distance travel has now come to end.We reached Phuntsholing at 4:30 pm,which almost took 8-9 hours drive for me.
While there are many ways of travelling modes and experiences, what i feel at the end is always a safe journey,memorable,experiences and of course having fun.
In Thimphu,once again looked back to the map where we have travelled and m glad that our trip had been very successful.I m taking another light shower and will take back these wonderful memories and put it somewhere someday..


.......................Have a Good Day..........................................