Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Sunday, 27 August 2017

Now what?



How often do we feel feelings that we have no explanations for?
Thoughts running wild in my head
Sometimes I can't even get a peaceful sleep at night…

There are so many places I just want to drift away
I even thought of running away from these tiny hiccups
And the regular faces…

But I chose to be stronger and face this chaos
Stand up for what I believe in
Even if it meant I’d lose a few people…

I long to take risks and go on adventures
No regrets, only a meaningful life to live
Serve with humility and carry forth the compassion…

Wednesday, 7 May 2014

A Beautiful Dream

Finding nothingness in this search
I quench for the last sip
are things meant to be this way?
Dreams,
To what I clenched tight
Blurry and merely illusions
As reality kick in
Clocks start ticking
For I am Wide awake
Wondering...

In times of hazy judgement 
One can see the light
But not the way...
Dreams are but forseen future..
For night and day are logical thoughts
Sleep comes when the minds hazy...

Hazy minds need no distraction
For they see a different kind of light
Logical thoughts too seem to fade
As daylight distinguishes from the night
Sleep is for the old man
who has lived many years to see
For I am only a budding flower
A flower when spring finally wakes

The seasons are strange
Life some offers yet death comes after,
Budding flowers bloom in plenty
Fragrance enchants the air
Yet hail of shower stones the elegant
Flowers by plenty and the air filled with rot...
Be weary of the seasons
They change like the clouds dark yet heavenly...

Banish Fear and Ignorance
For the tide has hit the shores tonight
Welcome the unwelcoming
Release the mental thoughts
As stars dim underneath these clouds
Even silence is slowly swallowed
One moment after another
Dark and Husky shadows of light
As the flames from the candle dies...

Fear is for the brave as ignorance for the wise
Both shapes a soul
the tides are ashore and many to come in haste
For the tides need no gesture of welcome 
Nor did it ever know silence like the calm stars
The flames may die but the ashes will remain 
Embedded in the sands of shore
and the tales of flame the tides shall carry
a hope of silence for these restless tides...

Such like the tales of sorrow briefly washed along the sea
No permanence will it ever know
As fishes do not live to see
No glory in death not glory in living
The colorful canvas paints itself red
In tales of woe yet to be told...

Such is the joyous tragedy of life
the birds sing to the funeral
the dogs bark to the shadows
the breeze blows through a fire
the truth no one knows
if the fishes could speak and the sun could rest
impermanence would just be another lie...

If lies could be told
the rays of heaven speak blasphemy
As sen seek the truth and life does forsee the hidden path
Fire only replays the role left to burn
"As ashes to ashes
Dust to dust"
The golden words remain to b spoken
As winds carry the last sound from the dying conch
Through it be a message of hope...

How far does thee seek?
The realm hidden beneath all beauty
For the fulfillment of the bread when eaten
To the staleness of the yeast untouched
Everything else whispers silence
When truth seems to break and heal
Ans the winds of change come in...

I seek no truth to life
I seek no fountain of happiness
For the lead dried and decay
the winds carry me and the ponds embrace me in circle
I seek not the way nor the path
I remain covered with dirt
For a day will come
When the path find me...

Wednesday, 2 October 2013

Story Part I

The Beginning

It was the year of the dragon, twenty four years ago that in the high altitudes of Laya there lived a little boy with rosy cheeks. He was the youngest child in his family along with an elder sister. When he was one years old, his father died while trying to save his family against the brutality of the feudal lords and his mother and sister did domestic labour around the neighbourhood as it was their only source of revenue. The little boy was born in the village of Gasa, located high along the snow peaked mountains which were only accessible by yaks. The population was barely a few hundreds and they survived mostly by eating yak meat, cheese and rice that were brought up from Punakha during the summer months by the local traders. And those who could afford would exchange their local produces with the Tibetans along the border through barter system for spices and other rations that are not found in Laya.

Ever since that day, the boy’s mother knew he was destined for greatness as his birth was surrounded by auspicious and superstitious beliefs. The entire village witnessed a full prominent rainbow was around the sun and even the thick misty weather suddenly cleared out bringing much desired sunshine and warmth. The clear blue skies above the entire Laya community spoke of a miracle birth of a high lama but however, they could be mistaken this one time.  

The boy’s mother was overjoyed as her son was born on this very day and thus decided to call him Gesar. Before the boy was born, the village barely saw any mothers giving birth to boys for a long duration of five years as most women had miscarriages during pregnancy which gave rise to high mortality rates in comparison to neighbouring villages.  And ever since the birth, the entire village of slowly started to progress forward. Their crops and vegetables started to grow and the entire village came together as one community rather than individualistic. Even though it took a few years for people to change, they started to live together in harmony where everyone was willing to help and be there for one another. Neighbours started to grow closer and families were extended.

But things didn’t stay this way for long and it wasn’t until Gesar turned eleven when the village was visited by a mysterious looking man. His clothes were tattered but similar to that of a gomchen*, the outer skin of his hands was darkish brown almost black in color while his palms were strikingly pale white prominently displaying the palm lines. The texture looked almost like leather but had more resemblance to an old man with dirty, long uncut nails. His face was scrubby looking, hardly shaved and his shoes had several holes in them from walking miles after miles and his bag looked almost empty. When the village people had gathered to welcome this man he declared himself as a paow* who foresaw into the future and came to warn the people of this tiny village.
He warned the village elders about what is yet to come and not to let any of their children travel outside their village until they turned seventeen as there would be huge consequences which the entire population would face and if the word of warning is not taken seriously then they would soon all perish to be non-existent. Soon after the entire village held a meeting and decided to put signs and build walls to protect their children and their village from the evil that was yet to come.
Gesar’s mother Dema was frightened of the thought of having Gesar grow up in this tiny village as education was scarce limiting knowledge and opportunities for personal growth. Her main reason to send Gesar to Punakha when he was fifteen was particularly the death of her husband Tobgay who was brutally killed by the feudal lords. It happened when the lords increased taxation and demanded surplus revenue from their family and when he spoke back to defend them without any mercy he was brutally killed.  

Four years passed by and Gesar was now fifteen years old. The warning soon became a tradition as only those who turned seventeen that year could leave the village. Some returned with tales about seeing the takin in Thimphu, some even brought back electronics that fascinated the elders while the rest only spoke of beautiful men and women whom they fell in love with. Gesar was no ordinary boy as he taught himself to read and write without attending school as the only nearby school stood at the foothills of the mountain passes behind the high inaccessible snowy peaks. Dema was worried for her son’s future as he was truly gifted; some even believed him to be a reincarnation of a high lama that passed away a few months before Gesar’s birth.  

Reverse Heart

Every conversation feels like a breakup And every poem feels like another goodbye What is the meaning of this? A constant reminder stuck in ...