Tibetan DIARY

Whenever, I read an anthropological literature/ethnography I get amazed by its minute detail accounts of people and their cultural aspects, whom anthropologists studies! Since past couple of days I am reading this book titled "Tibetan Diary:from birth to death and beyond in a Himalayan valley of Nepal", while reading this book and specially it's chapter on 'family needs versus spiritual deeds' which contradicts Tibetan Buddhist's cosmology and worldly existence, which author shows through biographical anecdote of Pema Dondrop, yet again let me dwell to my child memories and my existential crisis. Which to my reflection on my past life as child I was eager to ordain to be monk and endeavor to seek spiritual life apart from mundane life. However, I am not sure of it now whether my childhood desire/willingness was my innate pursuit or culturally conditioned but whenever I ponder about life rather I will say life style of living at this age I still opt to live a spiritual life. In a way this days, I find myself comply to Buddhist tradition and their teaching which says that 'when we came to realize that suffering is based on our failure to understand the true nature of human existence'. This pursuit of mine is taking me to understanding the true nature of human existence which I tend to seek through spiritual life!

Nyima Dorjee Bhotia

"One of things i cherished about our meting was that sometimes with our fellow friend, a lot of chat becomes about money and business. With Nyima we didn't talk about those things. We talked about books, idea, politics, language and world at large. it was sort of conversation you fantasize having with people you admire."

Is life worth Rs 40000 in Nepal?

How government reacted to Everest deadliest accident by compensating Rs 40000 something was such an insult to hear. Everest is of national interest, the hero's who works there act, acts of bravery. They should be adorned with garland of flower not with eye of ignorance.
The $ 300 million royalty government earns indirectly through them, goes on whose pockets? If government can't allocate portion of it in their relief, when so needed. Moreover its not money its about pride that all of us uphold firmly in our heart.

Where the development of literature heading in Nepal? or still is struck in past?

Extract taken from diary dated 12th April

                                     
The Day before- Kathmandu Cancer Hospital

As I entered I saw a board “welcome to Kathmandu cancer hospital” hanged on the glass door. It was like any other hospital in the country. Names of Doctors, qualification and universities they had attained were adorned on the left side of the information Cell like tiger heads in the hunter’s home. In the background there was a painting by Nepali famous engineer turned artist Arjun Sharma which has covered the whole wall.

I stepped towards  information Cell, it was barricaded by the glass.  Inside there were three staff working on some stuff.

Hello! I greeted.

The central seated male staff who was working on some file turned towards me and ‘said Yes sir, how may I help you?.

Can I know in which room Miss DeepshikHa Lama is?

Sir, what relations you have with her, ‘he asked in a soft voice while checking files.

I don’t have any relationship with her.

But before I could finish what I was saying he interrupted. Sir I can’t give information, it’s against our hospital policy and privacy policy of patients too.

Is it so? But she had called me, can I meet her? I asked.

No sir, how can you. It’s  violates both the policies I referred before ‘ He  answered with fake gestured.

I could have told him that gesturing  is not male job, the male always are imperfect in this art. But I felt it’s unnecessary, so I let it go.

She had called me, I need to talk. She wants to share her story. ‘ I said

What sir, She wants to share a story.  To whom?  ‘ He asked  with a desire to investigate.

No, you are getting wrong. I am a Freelance writer. She wanted me to draft her life into words. ‘ I explained.

Eh! Really?’’ sounds good. But can you manage to write? He said in a doubtful statement, other two also draw their ear to listen, what this 18 years foolish looking creature has to say. Who their in mind even might can’t write a short essay will write a story.

What do you think? Can’t I?

You Gurung? ‘He question

I hate those differentiation questions but I move my head to say ‘ No

Sherpa then? Or Bhote?

Sherpa  ‘ I answered firmly so that other two can also listen.

Hmm! Highlander. ‘ He said for conformation. He spoke again, it’s not you guy's job to write a story. It’s Bahuns and other high caste people's job, they are good at this. Not you people.

I hate his statement more than anything. "these things irritate me. Can’t you please change the topic and let me know can I meet her or Else I have to leave ‘ I said

Sir, you are in Nepal. You can’t get rid of such things.  Even if you succeed in writing what you called story. You have to find a publisher. Most of them are those people and they reject  without going through your script. Then it's going to irritate you sir.

Don’t teach me, I know what I have to do and what I am doing. It will be better if you concentrate on your work. Or else you open the private caste consultancy service, then you consult your client studying their caste what work to perform, what not to perform, what they are good at and what they are not at. I swear You will make good money. You are really good at this. ‘ I said as I calmness

Ouch! Sir, you get hurt? I don’t mean to hurt you. You have taken all things wrong. Anyway lets skipped. Miss Deepshikha Lama right?

Yes,  then can I meet?

Of course, If she called then she might have found something in you, that we don’t have. ‘ Three of them laugh  briefly.  Room No 14, you may proceed .

Where? Second floor?

Go straight, you will find x ray department, in opposite there is a stairs getting upstairs. ‘ I mean  second floor he corrected.
                                                      

Kind Of Education

Education system never amaze me, I always believe that education of this kind never do liberate our thought and neither do implant morality, on which school are set up. In most or almost whole part of India and in Indian sub-continent, education is act of dictation then child endurance to earn and learn.

A Good Retreat

In the middle of year 2010, when i got suffered with abdominal TB, I know how miserable, unlucky and fragile I felt about myself. But yesterday, when i saw people without hair, some as thin as their structure of bone can visible even without going through x-ray.
My mind or let i say inner soul embark me a new thought about myself "how fortunate i am, how beautiful my life was and how beautiful it can be".  When those cancerous people who even don't have few more days to live and cherish life, who are waiting in a lane beholding death. Their family getting despair of unpreventable disaster striking on them financially, mentally and emotionally which might end of their happiness forever, if not for a certain period, for sure.

knot

Strong are the rages of storms,
stronger is knot of my love.

*****

State

“Grant me refugee

In your vast sanctuary

I have no where to go

Nor any place to reach.”

In the freedom of solitude

The phenomenon of solitude is that it either embarks enlightenment of thought to provoke even goodness in badness. If not rather it leads to suffocation with discovery of lonesome state, and this discovery sometime demands life.

How i love thee

Ten thousand times or more I met thou before

Still stranger glance I ever gaze to thee.

From a many distance I visit thee

Still ever surprising such is thou.

Many of knots are broken in opposition,

Still I know nothing except to love thee.

Mad man

I left everything, every object, every gift, every memory and every things that binds me.
I scarified this life that is grown with knowledge dictate rather then learn with endurance.

I turned myself into madman and in madness I earn the degree of thought,

I am mad I travel endless to reach and still I never reached
As only mad knows there is not a thing call home, we all are refugee.

And in madness I reborn.

Shame

When thunder rage upon thee and thine every thought deepens into a wound .
How thou bring glow in thy act makes visible invisible god.

And seeing thee, what a shame comes to me
My tolerance is master of none.
In a flash of a thunder I sit to compose impure song.

Eternal

Thou hast embark me eternally,
Before Thee wise I do meet
Are group of  impatience fools
Manipulating each words to conspire
Conspiracy against their pretended fool.

Come to Trouble land

In rightful act of virtue,
I see the wrongful sin committed.

In the name of mythical God,
They separate me from them.

 In seek of physical pureness,
They intoxicate their inner purity.

Mother, come to trouble land of mine
Only thou can unite this fragmented heart.

Your strength

When I parted from thee,

My separation was thy very own.

When I came back after defeating oppressor,

Oppressed came to thee to give their thank.

Ah! Mother at last they come to know;

My bravery was thy strength.

Invisible

I'm afraid your quest will go in vain.

You will never find me in a flower garden
Nor will you get to gaze me around dusty street
I am void, for search I have no identity.

Rumor

They have mixed many alcohol in your glass and served.

Your anger was no wrong

You was drunk of rumor and was lost.

Knowldege

O! How adventurous this play of life for poor mortals,

In search of immortality how restless their heart roams.

I being one among them, the  knowledge I carried on my shoulders,

These seems, pile heaps of burden.

Mother, peace will only come to me when I do vacant this high post’s vanity,

And come to Thy door to win over Thy lap.

Begger's heart

Amid of thy presence, my lord
Yesterday, my powerless truth lost in strongness of lie.

Today, unashamed by shameful act
I came to thy door to beg as begger for thy forgiveness.

Mother

Mother, every child is born blind
Of thy radiance they see.

Thou embodies truth of truth.

From innermost heart, when every child abide thy service as virtuous service,
Truth of life, of joy and of suffering come to meet.

Truth

I discover truth in thee
That I long to search of world.

Thou hast reveal me deepest secret
Even unknown by master poet.

Mother, my this body is thy creation
Inside each cell exist thee, to guide me.

Mother's gift

For thou, I open all my heart
Come and scold me with thy thunder
Pour thy anger
And fill me with thy sacred water.

For thou, I stretch my arms wide open
Embrace me, again; thinking thy lost child found.

Oh! Mother, my life is a give thou given
Only thou can give this notion, a full thought.

Prose

She never search for love, love bless her. From a child to old present, love her as beloved.

When, rich girl from city visit her, they finds hollowness in their beauty, if they born in rich home being poor. Her beauty was large heap of wealth buried inside her father's home.

And when, rich man from city visit her, kind of unknown calm and peace slides into their's soul. Every sight of her has soothing effect upon man's mind.

So every man try to lure her
Wise man with their thought,
Rich man with their gold,
Merchant with their profit earned.

Though, singing delightful song she declined everyone, but nobody ask why. They return joyfully with charm of her in their heart beyond any measure.

And soon the day came. When handsome prince of the kingdom visit her.

I am prince of this kingdom, every lady of this land wish to be my princess. But I came long, searching for you. Your beauty is well received in capital, 'he said.

I ask you to be my princess?

She gaze to her father, he was smiling. He was pleased by prince words. But she refused the prince purpose, 'i can't, she said softly.

And added afterwards, Oh! Nobel prince love is not to search, it is to lose.

Waiting

I accompanied,
 My very being to thy service.

 At last, at last
Thou hast come to my home.

Beloved, through my endeavor,
 Fool mistaken my sacred heart
To be silent devotee of solitude.

 And here, my endeavor
 Not gone in vain.

I wait for thou with
Trust, mother do to her son.
Blindly, forgiving every wrong and sin.

And here, my wait
Not gone in vain.

I wait for thou with
Pure truth, that every whisper they whisper
Deeply untrue.

 And here, as thou appear
Every whisper vanished,
Like water evaporate.

I wait for thou with
Patience, everyday the day pass
If I coming closer to thee.

And here, as thou shown
Arouse hope to a man near to death
That he is yet to be born.

Your bloom

Methok, I call you my own

Though,

You have now sweet fragrances as roses have

Still I call you my own

As only I witnessed your bloom.

Note- "Methok" literally means flower in Tibetan.

RAY

With your loving sun's rays
escort me wherever you go.
I have the guts to walk,

Everyday, the days of my life.

Beside, along you

 by all heart

I sense of victory,

I’ll follow.