Spit-wise, not otherwise
I was informed, during one of those orientation days back in 2005, by a dear friend of mine on the massive number of Engineers in Thimphu: having sprouted from the various education systems across the world, they were deemed too many for the Wangchu to wash away- He had reasons, and even ways to prove that the number of Engineers in Bhutan was way beyond the permissible limits, stating: “If you spat from a building anywhere in Thimphu, it was a sure score that the spit would land on an Engineer’s Read more …
Right foot on the brakes!
One cold wintry morning, exactly at 8:50 AM, Chayphee drove his car inches behind a Toyota Land Cruiser. On such a cold morning, for neither was he a prophet nor an astrologer, it was hard for him to predict the moves and whims of the driver in front. To add to that, at breathing intervals, he let out thick vapors from his mouth that he could literally count the water droplets at two thousand. Every droplet from these two thousand settled on the windshield that he had to defog it. Defogging poses Read more …
Of Climate Change, Talking Fishes and the Himalayas
The glacial lakes far north in the country had all burst and the rivers across the Himalayas had turned pitch brown, and the atmosphere was adorned with the most powerful smells of soil and nature. Plant debris floated on the angry rivers as they knocked against each other producing the most hideous thuds. Two large fishes were washed ashore, along the banks of Punatsang-chu, right on to the grounds of Khuruthang after a flash flood. The sky was cast with a depressing family of clouds. Lightening Read more …
Far Away
It was raining outside, and the raindrops trickled down the windowpanes. She stared into the glass and her image looked back at her piteously. “Far away”, she thought. And deep into her thoughts she flew away, away to a land where everything was blissful. Colorful. There she dreamt a life of unhindered joy, where everyone was gentle and kind, where everyone did their business without poking each other’s noses. She had been staring into the glass for more than an hour when she came to reality Read more …
My First Krackjack Smile
It was when I was in class four that the year was 1992, and krackjack biscuits were all the rage that I fell in love with a girl. At the age of 12, one’s heart is still tender with your brain still knitting its lobes that you discover an extraordinary taste for biscuits. In 1992, krackjack biscuits went very well with our class four taste buds. Students with rich parents would buy krackjack biscuits and send them over to their best girls. And the best girls, in turn, would give them their Read more …
Fear that reeks of liquor, smoke and madness
Can we give names to fear? Well, can I, for that matter, give names to it? Mm… To start with, lets say, fear is a day named Sunday. Or better yet, fear is a taxi full of drunken people. Fear is, so we continue, when those people in the car abuse you screamingly! “If you are a girl, I love you. If you are a beetle, hate you like hell!” There is a point to note… I don’t want a bunch of drunken people to love me either. But it is a shame to realize that we are not allowed by our conscience Read more …