23/25, The heart breaking moment.

It was about to strike eleven at Legshey Jungney Guest House. Everything was at its pace; Pho chu rumbled, people worked, and motors plied. No one would have expected a sudden shudder in such scenery. But, unseen fate has mean potent to ruin what it is not foreknown.

“Brother! Where are you?” I could hear a daunting voice on line.

“Brother, VIVA is today. Your name is being continually called.” Brother Sonam Phuntsho godly said.

“Wait! What?” I snapped. “No brother, mine is on twenty-five” I re-joined.

What could have obscured my pupil? Twenty-three and Twenty-Five are perceptible digits. Where have I gone wrong? The dew of many unknown thoughts filled the brain, making it difficult to hold.  Today will be the day I would remember habitually if it results in ruin.

Indeed God did grant me petite luck that panel glittered glory in the dusk.  The wise words of my teachers, Madam Tshering Om Tamang, Jigme Dorji, and Choney Dorji, were handy today. I learnt that their word of wisdom and advice have me prepared for so long.

I went to the room of torture assertively. I was not taking anything than the words I was told by my exceptional teachers. For example, Jigme sir told me to say the things that I know the most. As opined, in the introduction, I told the panelist that I like translation. Guess what? To my merry it worked; three of the panelists asked me about translation.

Prior to the interview, I met a few affable girls to whom I pursued what they had been preparing. They were really angles. Together we shared everything we knew and conserved in ENGLISH which was really handy later. I really got dumbfounded hearing them speak native. It was enjoyable though the clock ticking intensified the pressure on our foreheads. They too were a blessing in disguise as they increased my confidence.

At last, hundred-kilometer running beats could literally be at ease.

The Heaven under My Nose.

Lighting Life Lovingly in Punakha 

I sat on an opening where
No tress, no bushes and no shrubs grew.
But, only a mighty, elegant stupa stood
Dressed in a cloud-white overcoat
And a blood-red belt ran in between
On which, in the midst, nests little Buddha
Its edges hooked
The network of vibgyor flags
Of divinity flattered
In the three realms
Like the perfect painting on a canvas
I, under its shelter
Contemplated the creation
And wondered,
Alas! What on earth
Has the “king of kings” innovated?
Far beyond the distance
From where I sat
Lay the sublime abode of Tsangkha,
The core point of Bhutan
Beautifully and apparently
Covered by the heavenly clouds
The road coiled like a snake
Like the work of an ant.
The God’s boon:
The birds, rivers and trees combined.
The birds chirped while rivers rumbled
And the trees clattered with the beat of drum,
Though apart from each other,
Created Pan’s music
Adding flavor to my sight
In admiring the view
This gave me the pleasure,
Piercing hard like a needle.
I escaped
Far beyond, very far, very far
From the mundane world
Hitherto, I was in the quest of true heaven
But then
The heaven was under my nose.