Monday, October 12, 2009
We were aboard an air conditioned cab, cruising over the rough road from Delhi to Dehradun for our forestry course at Indira Gandhi National Forestry Academy. It was a weary day, traveling for the whole day, firstly via flight, Druk Air (KB 202) and then the cab now. Steamy-warm air impeded the atmosphere outside.
Ugyen Penjor, my only companion, reluctantly sat over the cushion, gazed at me with distaste. A vivid complaint centered over his shriveled face as if to say,'I am feeling homesick, I long to return'.
I felt the same sensation but decided not to exhibit lest I shall aggravate his mood when he was in need of a moral prop.
Really, I was feeling quite nostalgic, going down the abyss of my memory lane and reminiscing over my spent days in Bhutan, a country where joys are computed in totality of whole citizens' emotions and deemed indispensable over the materialistic gain. Trauma at heart seemed to escalate as the trees zoomed past us reminding me of the rich forest cover of my country, a familiar sight.
How I missed the sight of Bhutanese elegance, old men chanting mantras, repenting over their past misdemeanors, those 'Doma' stained teeth, youth in our national outfit, beautifully clad attire of women, the cool breeze and the way Bhutan did look in the dusk, my caring family members, our flag fluttering with pride aloft…..
Outside, it was a complete alien world; wastes dispersed everywhere, dusty road, and numerous noisy vehicles plying incessantly.
A query ushered in my mind, 'My God! How shall I spend whole two years in the country I don't belong to, be deprived of the regular sights I have been used to?'
'Only if I could return to the country I hail from and be a part of those laughing lot, sharing their personal stories of what they did during their carnivals….
I know as the time shall pass by ignorantly, I shall also be there in Bhutan to lay down my sympathy for those who are on alfresco studies far afield, behind the snow capped mountains, away from the land of thunder dragon, and express my 'sorry-feeling' to them.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Over the serene azure night,
Under the starry inundated skies,
Aloof, under a bough of a massive tree
Does she search for her lover with those angelic eyes.
With the queen moon on her golden throne
Woven out of her gleaming radiant rays,
The lady waits, leaning against the trunk
For profuse weeks, months and days!
The earth lie soaked in those brilliant beams
Sleeping- silent, tranquil and still, like the lake
But there’s a hope in those glittering eyes
That makes her brisk and wide awake.
Behind endless hills and snow-capped mountains,
In the state of Uttarakhand is he,
The love of her, equally traumatized
And agonized to the extremities one can be.
She might still be waiting persistently,
As the roses bloom, wither and eventually goes
For her never returning love
Under the skies as usual, who knows???
To sway the elegant self,
To avert scorching warmth of glow,
Shall the blooming flowers await
The gentle breeze to blow!
To appease unendurable hunger,
For the nourishments to draw,
Shall the famished worms await
The tender shoots to grow!
To liven up crops on dead dry substratum,
The trust the season did embezzle,
Shall the perturbed farmers await
For a blessed heavenly drizzle!
To solace the sight of old weary eyes,
‘ere with life she’s done,
shall the age-crippled mother await
the return of her only son!
To pour out my concealed words within,
To whisper my words close to your ear,
Shall I, anxiously await
For your presence my dear