Monday, August 17, 2015

Of writers and writings...

Every time I see my barren blog, my heart cries. It has been four months that I wrote nothing in my blog. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t writing anything. I was writing some other things and studying my textbooks. To make my excuse more genuine, there was no internet facility in our hostel.
During these four months, I learnt many things about writing and writers.
I came to know writing isn’t a cup of tea. It requires immense inspiration to make the right choice of words. I forced myself to come up with a blog post and landed up writing some rubbish. I also knew I can write bags of rubbish but I can’t write precise, exact and economical sentences.
I developed this fear – writers lived cursed lives. May be I read too many biographies of writers. Some died trying to complete their last masterpiece; some wrote what we call masterpieces in great agony, physical pain and poverty. Some died thinking they can never convince the world as their books were banned for obscenity and some of their books were rejected by the publishers. Many years after their death, their books became international bestseller and critically acclaimed literary piece. Does that mean their generation never understood what writers wrote?
To be a good writer, you need to experience many things. I am scared what if I lose my identity in the process of experiencing versatile things. Heart-broken – shattered. Drink and drive – fall off the bike. Drink and play – fall. Enjoy – what it means to cry? Shout on top of your voice – get arrested by security guards. Does kaleidoscope of experiences make a good writer?
Am I going insane?
Because I wake up at midnight, put on the light and jot down new ideas that strike my head. Sometimes, I laugh out loud, thinking about the hilarious character I created. Sometimes, my heart beat so loud and fast, when I create rowdy character. Sometimes, I smile and lip sings the romantic song that my character sings. It runs so clear and vivid in my mind that I fall in love with the heroine I created in my novel. The craziest thing is I feel like she is waiting somewhere for me. Sometimes, she comes in my dream, smile and wave bye.

I don’t know when I would write next as I have examination in September. Folks, wish me loads of good luck. Till then, keep visiting my blog. 

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Playing in the rain...

We feel so special if we are good at sports. And there is another unknown charm in playing sports when we are not good at it. I seek charm in later category.
I was never a sport person while in school. I little regret for why I never played any games. But I am trying my best in college though quite old to learn.
I never felt so special like yesterday. It was like only me. No other person – I, me and myself. I played like I was the only one playing there. I felt happy when everybody giggled looking at me. I less care that they make fun of me – but it give immense pleasure when you become the reason for another’s laughter. It doesn’t mean my friends discourage me – had there been no supportive friends like I have now I wouldn’t have made myself to play ground. They encourage me, teach me and above all they make me play (I only know how badly I play haha).
Warm-up session...
11.04.2015: We were expecting it to rain as dark clouds hovered over us. It was just 5.30 pm but it became so dark. Wind blew so hard that small pebbles struck us. And frequent flashes of lightening made me feel like I was somewhere shooting for horror movie. I was afraid wind would blow us off or it may bring something that would injure us. Not to forget, I have phobia of thunder and lightning. But it didn’t stop us from playing. We kept playing and more fun sprout when ball got carried by wind and no one scored so easily.
We were playing basketball.
Then, it poured. Heaviest rainfall I ever observed in Raichur since I came here in 2011. And wind made it worst. But we kept playing. We got drenched from top to bottom. It became so hard that I had to gasp for the air to breathe as rain became so intense. Within no time, our play ground became the swimming pool – where we couldn’t bounce the ball. Splash!!! And ball slipped out of our hand. I rejoiced the moment. I felt relieved. I felt relaxed. I felt like I was cleansed. It was the complete and euphoric moment. No pain, no dream, nothing...complete emptiness. I heard nothing, just the giggles of my friends and screaming on top of their voice – jumping and rejoicing the moment to the fullest. It had been so long that I never played in rain but yesterday I did it. It also brought along the memories of my childhood making me feel little nostalgic. Those were the days of innocence – sans jealousy, sans love, sans hatred, sans sadness...  
That was it. That is the true happiness.
With my friends...
PS: I couldn’t capture any photos yesterday as it was raining heavily.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Gone Girl....

    Isn’t it too quick and abrupt?
    I was always afraid of your speed. I was always reluctant to take those fast steps but I didn’t back up when you said, you are my choice. I love you and it is forever. That wasn’t said a century ago. But as much as I never argued with your decision, here too, I respect your decision – strongly.
     If the care I rendered when you were sick, when you needed me and when you were vulnerable amidst the barks is not enough. I must say I may not have done more. If those walk –hand in hand with smiles and blushes, days and nights we spent together promising numerous things meant nothing for you. I am afraid I may never have loved you more than that. If what I did for you with what I had and what I could do isn’t enough, I must admit that I am not settled and established enough to give more than that.
     If two years is so long a time, I am confused what you meant by I will wait for you for whole of my life? If you had to decide within short two days I don’t know what does, please never leave me... promise me, baby meant? I may never understand those connotations.
    There used to be a time when only death departs two souls. But I wasn’t aware that faithlessness and lack of commitment also departs.
During photo shot for novel's cover page
I think I knew why you were so hurried to publish this novel. It was because my time was ending. Novel writing is such a tedious and long process that even your girlfriend leaves you before it is published. It is funny, yet true. But I must be strong enough to shoulder it on my own as it is almost done and I have blessings and good wishes of many. It was my promise and I will 
fulfill it by hook or crook.
   Nothing comes ready-made in our life. It must be earned with much hard work and dedication. I will rather be poor and unrecognized man than to be popular for none of my effort.
   What for your nag and tear was for? What am I to do with those gifts that still remained unpacked and undisturbed? What explanation should I give to my friends and parents? Wasn't those messages and texts that I wrote taking out time from my busy schedules and compromising my sleep enough? Wasn't good morning wishes and goodnight messages not enough for you? If so, why you used to cry when I don’t write a message or call you just for a night? What were those calls that you used to make every time you wake up – be it at night or early morning - searching me? How is it possible for you to delete every photos and forget every memories altogether? I think my friends were right when they warned me. But I stood by your side through all thick and thin. And yeah fruit is quite bitter.
Just a month ago...
I am proud of you like never before for you took the right and firm decision though it was within the shortest possible time, and all my wishes are there for your successful and happy life ahead. Always obey the elders, follow the rules and make your parents proud like you did till now. I salute your brave heart.
   And honestly, I am happy because I got this never known freedom from insecurity, captivation and guilt. It may be difficult for a while to walk ahead but don’t worry I can walk because my path is still clear and bright.
Thank you...

Monday, March 16, 2015

Right of Vision and Occasional views...

Title of the book: Right of Vision and Occasional views
Author: Thakur S Powdyel
Editors: Needrup Zangpo and Tshering Gyeltshen
Publisher: TG Media &infotainment (TGMI), Thimphu, Bhutan.
Printed by Omega Traders (India), New Delhi
Total pages: 189
Price: Nu. 399/- 
First of all, hats off to Mr. Needrup Zangpo and Mr. Tshering Gyeltshen for their efforts to bring out this anthology. What more would a teacher ask from the students than this? It is a book of double tributes: two editors’ tribute to their beloved teacher and author’s tribute to Druk Gyal Zhipa on his 60th birth anniversary.
During book release... 
I am very reluctant and nervous to review a book by such a literary giant. I am afraid; I may not do justice by reviewing it.  Sometimes, I felt if their typos are really typos because what if they have different justifications and connotations. With this, I don’t mean that this book is filled with typos –very few and very minor typos has escaped the hawk eyes of two editors.
I jumped with joy when I came to know that Dasho Sonam Kinga launched this book along with Lyonpo TS Powdyel and Mr. Needrup Zangpo. I desperately wanted to read it. Then, I asked her to send it to me by any means. It is an honour to receive such a masterpiece as an anniversary gift. I would always cherish it.
I heard a lot about Lyonpo from many of my teachers since I was in Primary School. But I wasn’t fortunate enough to meet him in person until I reached High School –his speech still reverberates in my heart.  He is one of the finest and most decorated teachers who inspired thousands of students as a teacher of various schools, Vice Principal of Sherubtse College, Director of CERD and as a first democratically elected Education Minister (2008-2013). He is an icon for now and forever.
This anthology is neatly divided into three parts.
1.      Moments and mementos
2.      Milestones and Messages
3.      Journeys and Journals.
And opens up with the poem that author wrote while in Class X –which is so profound and rhythmically melodious. And it continues incessantly with deep contemplation of education and national integrity which is the essence of Powdyellian profundity. It is so deep, so inspiring. I felt his whispers close to my heart. Sometimes, author takes you far and has to read between the lines and sometimes he speaks directly with us –face to face, eye to eye, and can’t deny his statements. It makes me ask myself, if I am doing enough? Mostly, he focused on education as the solution and as a solace for everyone to find ‘soul behind the role.’ It is a book of meditation.
Cover page.... 
It also takes us around the country. It enlightens us on how our fellow teachers are struggling at far-flung valleys and hills where urbanites complain when electricity goes off just for few minutes or an hour at the most. It made me realize how fortunate I had been compared to some of the brothers and sisters.
I read some of the articles (of the anthology) through newspapers and other means. But many of them were new for me.
It has excellent paper quality, binding and design.
It is a book which you wouldn’t leave it in shelves after reading it once. Such is the magic of this book, of powdyellian wisdom...  To read this book is like drinking salty water where your desire to read it escalates every time you reach the last page.   


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