Sunday, October 31, 2010

A footprint that remains engraved forever

Many people come and go. But the lasting impression of theirs always remains in us either as something that could be there as pain or something as inspirational as anything big in life. It keeps its dimension of anything growing bigger for which they be remembered in our heart and mind throughout our life. Some become big, while some big are brought down. In the former, the repercussion brings a positive –life building-energy, while in the latter, some enormous package of grudge thrives on to thrash the beauty of life. In both ways, the leads are maintained. There is no end to the lengthy widths of figures in our spacious mind. We engrave them. It’s caught and it remains. It makes you reminded and learnt.
Down the lines, when the man who has followed the path not knowing where it would actually lead, but has been following ever since time could tell,  can actually end up being aided, being inspired, being educated, being energised but by many people: too late even to feel thankful and too many to remember all of them. Time has just wiped out and all that we remember is ourselves in every battle of life we waged. There is no room for them, but well few are always remembered perhaps because they made our most prized moment of life or because they are the ones who made us to what we are today that we feel thankful.
One such figure of my life is my grandpa. Today he is not in this world of ours. He’s been long taken out of the onerous burden of life. It’s been almost five years since he left us behind. He was without any ends my most influential person. He not only taught me how to live my life but also protected me in any way he could. Right from the cradle, he cared me. Not to mention how I used to be his loved grandson. There could nothing be more precious for a person than the child he saved from succumbing to death because of cold and rough birth. I met with an accident while I was five year old. I still remember my grandpa fighting a case for me. My father had to go to the court because of me. The vehicle was wrecked badly, and thanks to the mercy of god, I didn’t hurt myself so much in the accident. Today I feel sorry for the people who had to adjust to such a huge loss due to the accident. I was not legally liable for the punishment for having caused an accident.
After the case was over, he took me to the village, away from the tension and away from home. I loved every moment of my life with him and the grandma. They tended me with their love and I grew up with them. There was nothing sweeter than that. Grandpa used to promise me sweets in exchange of my acceptance to study. Those moments can’t be bought back. But they still remain in our heart.
There are many people in everyone’s life who makes us aspire, and leaves us inspired. They mark wonderful things in our life. Miss you Grandpa!

Photo courtesy

Is your friend the one you can trust?

There were times in the mythical period where trees could speak the language among themselves. There were times when trees actually had a kingdom under a big tree. There were times when they lived under the sovereignty of a king protected and taken-cared of. 
“Oh! Lord, protect us?” the trees were standing before a king.  A king, giant tree with so many tall trunks and big branches, with its palace adorned with many beautiful leaves and sweet fruits stood tall to hear the plea of his fellow subjects.

“What happened?” It roared gently. 
“Our enemy has come to our forest. He may chop any one of us at any time”, trees collectively cried to the mighty resort of their king.
“Is it our enemy or it has come up with one of us also?”
Trees saw that the woodcutter was carrying an axe without handle. And the king assured them that there’s no need to panic for. Woodcutter left without any tree. They were relieved.
But however, trees again gathered before the king and plead the same thing about their enemy in the forest and about them getting chopped off.
This time also, king made them do the same thing. They however saw the woodcutter carrying an axe with a handle which was made out of wood.
“He has come up with one of us as its handle”
“Then we should be careful. It knows our weakness”, the king helplessly lamented the presence of one of its own subjects who could harm them as it knew their strength and weakness.
There is not much a pain your enemy is capable of inflicting in you than your friend can. 

Picture Courtesy:

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Fishermen's lesson

He’s lying cold and breathless. There was the petrified look on Dorji and Wangchuk was taken aback into dead jolt. Sonam lied speechless. The sun was passing out. Dusk was already there, and the terror in these men’s face is far from being concealed. Sonam was as good as dead person. There was uproar, and the confused ones didn’t really have anything in their heart than fear. The river commanded their fear with rippling and splashing. Winds stopped flowing harsh. Men couldnot tell the difference between sweat and the water stains.  Mud and sands have drenched the lifeless man.

“What do we do now?” Dorji was crying. He couldn’t just imagine his poor wife and their children suffering at the pity of poverty, and he is not there to answer their struggle. It was just terrifying.

“....Police?” Tshewang was stammering. “There is no other choice left than to report to the police?” Wangchuk couldn’t imagine his father and even himself getting behind the bar for being in a same company of a person who went missing by drowning in roaring river. Actually being able to see his uncle Sonam getting drowned  with the fishing net just as he turned around to see his father who was throwing the net few distance away from him, it was dreadful experience for a boy of his age to have been the sore witness. It just was enough to clip his un-preconditioned thoughts with worrisome incident. They gathered with pale numbness in the nerve, the once warm and pleasing experience of fishing dried up to be caught in sheer panic. What in the heaven these two men and a kid going to say to the police about what just happened? What in the heaven, they are going to explain to Sonam’s wife and his three little children? How in the heaven they are going to make it better to put away from getting it worse for their family? It was simply scary. They don’t just have the answer for it.
Dorji threw the net several times into the deep waterlog. They couldn’t fish out Sonam. Rain has started to become heavy. Soon, rivers going to swell.  And that would mean that they could even land up without being able to find out the body.

“Are you sure, boy, that you saw him here?” The sweats have broken down on Dorji’s face. Sometimes terror comes in a very promising package. They were asked to get a fish by a rich hotelier. The lucrative offer by then never meant any sort of danger but good money to support the family. What could be more fascinating than fishing and getting paid? And for fishing, Dorji was expert not to mention his families survived mostly in his fishing adventure than in money he earned from his regular job at furniture workshop.

“ him taking out his hand waving at the direction towards when getting drowned”.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Life is built on memories- I

The past is never dead, it is not even past.  ~William Faulkner.

Things are not easy to be left forgotten because they make something called memory, we remember those moments in the past which make the part of our life. It defines our un-passed past. Life never ceases to be left undone. It comes along with us. Sometimes its harsh things which are yet sweet to remember, while it’s the good hours that may make it to be cherishing. It’s all about memories and it’s all about life being made bigger with these small moments of life from the diary of oneself.

According to science, in simple sentence it is called as an ability of an organism to store, retain, and recall information and experiences. And going even further with boon of science making its great impact on the world, computers function with certain memory and storage. Human experiences comprise our memories. Some bad and good ones are saved and remain through the ages. Bad ones take our time, and all that left is to suffer so many times for same reason. Bad files take unwanted space. On the other hand, good ones always bring the smile on our face. It makes us relive the moment that went by through certain cherishing things, thus building another memory. Good files are always worth to share with people. It makes everyone contented.

Experiences and memories go hand in hand. They finally submit to the ultimate one-life. Experiences build memories which in turn build life. Dreams those one experiences becomes ones to look up many times and cherish the experience. Some crashes down leaving us with painful memory. Yet still, people in adversity actually learn a lot than others who didn’t had much of hard lives. There is always wisdom and substance in our memory. The diary can comprise of so many experiences. The unlimited memory of human brain can’t really be filled to the end. There are many and so many. It’s ceaseless just like life.

Memories are constructed through experiences and an every second of our life can produce another experience. It builds wisdom. It may be regret or another mistake. It may be a love or a journey. But it comprises your memory. Bad or good, memories have become part of our life. It connects with people once we knew. It gets us there to the place once we lived on. We bring us the undying sense of joy of remembering the kind of ourselves in that very old situation of life which didn’t become an old memory though age has wrinkled our flesh. Memories remain alive of those who are buried; memories remain within us of those who left and memories keep us together with of those we loved.

As I end here, I hope every one of you there has lot to cherish and remember. How bad it is, or how good it is, memories are what keep you moving, learning, and experiencing. It can never be a separated part of you.

Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember. ~Seneca