Sherab Tenzin's Blog

When I was in college, I used to have one active Facebook friend from Tashigang. To be frank I never know when I became a friend to him. I don’t remember myself scrutinizing his profile photos and related details before accepting his request like how I usually do whenever a new friend request appears in my profile. I just treated him like any other friends in Facebook – Hi if he says Hi and then turn him off even in the midst of conversation if I don’t feel like to chat. Nothing more.

But as days passed by, his chats became more incessant and our interactions through Facebook increased, I found myself chatting with him more and more. We used to chat a lot – sometimes just like two lovebirds separated by distance. He told me he is a high school dropout living in village. I loved his status as much as I believed in what he had to say. Most of the photos he used to upload will be of rural lives. In them, he will be either working in field or resting on rocks with a spade near him and a knife dangling around his waist; his skin tanned by scorching sun and beaten by cold rain. Sometimes he’ll be seen with cows and horses.

I have also shared him about myself as much as he shared me about him. In course of time, we became better known. We discovered many things in common. There was so much joy in it. He could later even use some basic terms of Khengkha – my mother tongue. He once said that I can be his brother. I am older to him by two years. That made sense. I accepted it. He then started calling me ‘Brother’. But I used to call him ‘Educated Farmer.’ That was fun. We promised to meet each other if he at all comes to Thimphu or I can make to the east.

We couldn’t meet. I think he must have not made to Thimphu. I couldn’t make to east either. By then I completed my college. Then what? I was cut off from social network – not that I was prohibited. I didn’t have time. I was busy on my own ways – attending graduate orientation programmes, preparing for BCSE, and then hunting for job. When I sometimes get chance to open my profile, there will be piles of his messages – wishing me good luck for my PE, orientations and then job hunting. It seemed he knows more about me. But I never had time to chat with him like before.

And then I got employed. I walked office with a sense of relief. But once I got there, things are more different. Shackles around me have been getting tighter every time. Number of sacrifices I used to make before was nothing. I couldn’t meet my friends and roam freely like before. Whenever they ask me for some gatherings or lunches, I will be the first to reject their invitations. It started appearing that I am getting removed from their circles. When I am free, they aren’t. When they are, I am not. In most cases, I will be the one who isn’t available. When this has become more and more, I was feeling whether they must be having same feelings for me as they used to have; whether I am still a friend for them.

And then other day, a message was dropped in my Facebook inbox. When I opened, it was from that educated farmer/brother with whom I used to chat a lot back during my college days. In that he has written so much – mostly about his life in Tashigang. In particular, he has written, “Brother you’re not chatting with me anymore. Is it I am being blocked or something? I am thinking that so much have changed in you after you got a job.”

He is correct. It seems so many changes have happened in me. I don’t have time to chat with my friends who are nearby and then get together. I was in office one Sunday when one of my friends called me. I said I am in office. He remarked, “You’re the only one who runs the Finance Division of Bhutan Telecom? You’re always damn busy.”

Those things got me. May be I am blindly giving so much to my works. There are many people in Finance. Neither I alone can run the division nor should I make an attempt to do so. But all along I must have been attempting to run the division by me alone. This was wrong on my part. I realized it. This realization has changed how I look my life. I have now started calling up my friends and getting together for which they are surprised at times. I will also start chatting with my Educated Brother. I am going to change now. I want to be lazy and free. I must have missed so many things. They will be having so much to share with me. This should be wonderful.

My friend Pema & Kencho after one of our recent gatherings

Thank you my friends. You have always been there despite I have almost neglected you. Now I know how you must have felt when your invitations were rejected. I was just socially awkward friend. Thank you. I will try justifying your friendship given for me.

Seated on a pedestal in the park, I requested her to tell the story of how she has actually become a prostitute. So this post is in continuation to part - I. But it is more about her life - how she first became a prostitute. Bitter story that none of our girls must have gone through.

"When I was small, I never heard of this profession – prostitution. And a dream to become a prostitute was never ever in my mind. Just like any other girls, I too had a dream; a dream to be somebody who will be able to look after her parents and keep the family closely knitted. I went to school. I have put all parts of myself in studies. I have been thinking my parents and relatives are there to help me if I at all need helps. I just have to study. So I studied hard.

Life is all fair for me. I thought then. My parents and relatives supported my education. I studied well. So gradually I made up to high school. It was only then my education expenditure started escalating. Yet I remained optimistic that they will remain steadfast in helping me. But god didn’t play his part. My parents and family then slowly succumbed in a financial puddle.

My brother who is a security guard tried his level best to help me. Equally my sister whose husband is a private employee tried her best. However, their helps started falling short in meeting my educational demands. Moreover they have their own families and their meager salaries will be too less to support me on top of meeting day to day family expenditure. So I stopped going to school.

My parents were in our province – remote place. The only source of income for our family was vegetable cultivation and their sales. When my father’s health was gradually taken away by age and bronchitis, our family income gradually reduced. My mother who is older to my father by 5 years couldn’t hold the grip. And there was nothing much I could do of it.

Photo source: Google

Our bread winner – my father was taken out of family a year later. Though I was grief-stricken, I didn’t have much time. My mother’s health also started deteriorating with my father’s demise. When her health complications started becoming more severe, I was the only one fighting for it. Hoping for the helps of my brother and sister remained as a hope against hope.

It was at this time, I made a bold decision – a decision that would matter so much to my life as well as to that of my ailing mother. I went Manila to search for any employment opportunity. I applied for many but my qualification was too low to deserve any better job. And the pay-scale within which my certificates put me was barely enough to survive in the city. I couldn’t bring my mother to city.

One day I met my childhood friend. Though she hasn’t studied like me, she is living well in city. She has rented a spacious flat, bought furniture and utensils needed at home. She said that she also sends some money monthly to her parents back at province. I then wondered what work she must be doing. On consistent asking, she confessed that she works as a prostitute.

I then had a serious thinking on it. I can’t bring my mother near to good hospital and give good medical care. If I don’t get a better-paying job then it’ll be too late. So I also made up my mind to join as a prostitute. It was very hard. Initially I cried every night after reaching my flat. But later I got adjusted. It took a lot of time.

And today my mother lives with me. I have taken her to good hospital several times. It seems her health has improved. She is taking her meals on time. I am happy. I could help my mother before it’s too late. But only thing is I don’t like the job through which I am helping her. She doesn’t know about it. My brother and sister don’t know about it either. If they know it then they will be broken into pieces. Every night, before I go to sleep, I pray and apologize god for failing and doing such a dirty job.

But slowly I am planning to get out of it because it’s not the job I have dreamed all along my life. I joined it out of no choice. I have made some savings. I will use that money and run a small fast food stall on the way to my province."

So let us pray for her success!

I travel around the round world,

In silence without a word,

Away from fears and sorrows,

Not vexed by tomorrows.

I meet great saints and sages,

Along the beads of pages,

Whose presences have more to share,

All things of way beyond compare.

Then I can watch sweet lovers,

Whose love hangs and hovers,

On various walls of society,

Like a cloud without variety.

I can see people on pavement,

Whose aroma fill air from basement,

Not just by their youthful looks,

But more with their sharp hopes.

I can feel might of Great China Wall,

Beauty of arts inside Taj Mahal,

Complexities in design of Eiffel tower,

Maturity of Giza pyramid and more.

But when my journey ends at last,

And reach home without much fast,

I am just with a book on my hand,

Once more I am on a lonesome land.

Source of inspiration

___________________________________________

Does this make any sense?

I have never been good in writing poems.

____________________________________________

It was one year back on this day, 28^th September; I have opened this blog (But it was only after few days I started posting articles). I was then a final year student in Royal Thimphu College. Just like any other bloggers, my initial entry in blogging was as much clueless as it was aimless. I still consider it as some sort of accidents. I was like a moth buzzing around butter lamps. I have never ever heard of blogging before.

One of my high school classmates Sonam Wangdi has shared a link on his Facebook wall. Never knew when he actually shared. But I came across it that day. On seeing it I thought it must be a link picked from other websites. I casually clicked it. On getting opened, it wasn’t a website of an institute or media house or ministry. It was a website of him. I could see his details and many of his photos in it.

The design appeared good and personal. I wondered how he must have done it. More than that, I wondered how he must have so quickly learned HTMLs, Java Scripts and CSS which are needed for web design. My IT friends used to tell those are something that will drive anyone crazy. I thought perhaps some expert web designers must have made for him.He also studied commerce just like me in high school. He cannot build a website by himself was all I thought while reading his articles.

Thank you all for making me reach thus far

When my roommate appeared, I showed him the website of my friend Sonam Wangdi. He confidently said, “This is a blog. We can also open for ourselves.” I was surprised. He had got an ace up his sleeve on this. May be somebody introduced it to him. He is a BCA student after all. It was a surprise. He already have got a blog silently created in his name. I was happy. I then started nagging him to teach me how to create one. I wanted to explore. He finally accepted. And that day after dinner, I started creating a blog in my name. I was being helped by him.

This is how my current blog was born. It’s also how I have started my journey in blogging. And today, after having traveled this road for a year, all I can say is ‘Blogging is Enjoyable’. I have known many things. I have got many things. I have become friends to many. And I am learning every day in it.

So I want to thank my friends Sonam Wangdi and Sonam Dorji for introducing me to blogging. My blog’s first Birth Anniversary is being celebrated to thank you and let you guys know that you’re always being remembered in the journey of my blogging. Thank you.

You can read their blogs in given links:

I have little time to write in my blog these days. It seems I am running a race with no visible end. All people around me just appear to be carrying loops that will hang me to death. Smiles like that of air hostesses which I have been seeing on their faces till now are no more visible. I can see only see frowning faces and cupped hands everywhere. People are coming with bangs and going with slams. Things for me have changed.

Dramas are everywhere – from office to house. It’s very hard to stand still in the swirling eddies of those dramas. It becomes really tough when we’re in them. Sometimes I ask myself whether there would be another person in this world who is being offered by their life like mine does for me.

Demands for me are coming from every corner. But those demands are not for me to be celebrated; they are for me to be tolerated. My worth is getting tested in every move I make. If I can succeed, appreciations from those people are just far-fetched candies. But if I at all fail, blames are falling like autumn leaves. And it’s really hard when you’re the basket who is supposed to take all those autumn leaves. I sometimes feel unfair. I am now afraid even to make a new stride.

When all are gone and everything in you're consumed, god will be there

However, I will move forward despite all sorts of confrontations. I may be blamed, cursed, criticized, tossed, turned, kicked or roasted. My speech may become inaudible with lack of confidence; my walking may be staggering without encouragement and guide, I may not get appreciations for all good things I do and blames may befall on me if I commit mistakes, yet I must go one. It’s not necessary to be appreciated. I have never heard that a tower was built with candies. Appreciations aren’t necessary for good things to appear good.

Rome wasn’t built in a day so will be the case with good things in me. Everything has time. There are shadows just because there are lights in other side. Hope those things will also slowly give their ways to time. I will wait and in waiting I will make new and bold strides. When I park my car and rest at the end of road I have travelled and then look back, if that road has no visible twists and turns, how can I claim myself to be a good driver? I want to celebrate my journey and claim myself to be a good driver. So I should tolerate all those and rise every time I fall.

So friends, things around you may not be as you wanted. But sooner they will wear with time. Trust yourself and in whatever you do. No one should determine your life. Don't trust anybody. Hands that fed you yesterday may be the same hands that are choking you today. So live well and walk hard. Good things will be on your way. Take care. God bless you all

I have never read of Chetan Bhagat – English language novelist from India. It was very recently when I came across a NDTV program where his latest book ‘My Half Girlfriend’ was being discussed, interpreted, criticized and debated live in detail; I came to know more about him. I thought bad of myself for being so much away as much as I have tried to remain updated in this area. Watching about that program, I felt inspired by the way he talks and the way he answers any question. So I thought to buy some of his books and explore him.

The very next day I went to Junction – one of the bookstores in Thimphu from where I usually buy books. But that day it wasn’t open. So I went to DSB Bookstore. It was open. And on asking whether they have any books by Chetan Bhagat, the counter girl brought three books; all of them by Chetan Bhagat. They are:

One Night at the Call Center.
Five Point Someone.
The 3 mistakes of my Life.

When these books were presented in pile in front of me, I was sort of wow this man has silently written quite a number of books! But his latest book ‘My Half Girlfriend’, about which I have watched the live program, has not yet reached DSB. However, thinking that those will also help me in knowing about him, I bought all three of them.

Out of three, The 3 mistakes of my Life appeared to be more interesting and lucid. So I started reading it first. My assumption was right. It was written in such a way that I didn’t feel like to use my book mark very often. I neither felt lazy nor sleepy while reading. Instead I made a history in my life. I completed reading it without even a cup of coffee or tea. When I turned its last page, it was just 2:08A.m. No wonder. I can remain awake reading even whole night if a novel is interesting one.

This book also provides easy reads like any other novels by Nicholas Sparks. The author of the book, Chetan Bhagat is brought into surprise when he has received a suicidal note cum confession email on Saturday from G.Patel who claims to have no reason to live as he has committed three unforgivable mistakes. The author has no acquaintance with him. However that man has given some aspiration when he mentioned his hope of proving Chetan as some help for him as for him he is some sort of inspiring author.

The author then gets involved both emotionally and physically. He tries to trace the person who has sent the email. But it was only when his college professor Basant helps; he could successfully trace and meet the person who has actually sent that email – Mr. Govind Patel.

And in hospital, the author asks this man reasons for sending him the email. In the process, whole of his story is being narrated to him. It is here then readers will be taken to past days of G. Patel. The whole book is a story G. Patel narrated to author. Therefore three mistakes are actually the mistakes committed by G.Patel.

Photo Source: Google

However, as his story unfolds, we’ll discover the story being about other two friends Ishaan and Omi as much as it’s about G. Patel himself alone. All of them have different traits and passions. G. Patel is good in mathematics and is interested in business. But Ishaan is but a cricket freak and Omi is a son of Hindu priest. His interest lies in keeping his body healthy.

When people of different interests and backgrounds are brought together, there will arise some hitches. This is exactly the case with the friendship of G. Patel, Omi and Ishaan. The turn of story builds up with Ishaan introducing Ali and then going off his way to make him play cricket because of his natural gift in cricket and G. Patel falling in love with Vidya – younger sister of Ishaan.

Therefore, we can say that this novel is about problems and charms one will get if business, cricket, love, patriotism and religion are being mixed with friendship.

I have completed reading this book. But did I tell you the three mistakes G. Patel had committed which are still so much with him despite him being bed-ridden in hospital? I won’t tell you. I shouldn't do actually. I will keep them unearthed for you. I don’t want to nip your eagerness to read this novel at bud. Go ahead and discover the three mistakes which Govind has committed which then helped Chetan Bhagat to come up with a book. And then if possible also don't forget to analyze reasons for the word 'mistakes' in the title of book to be in strike-through.

Thank you. Enjoy reading 'The 3 mistakes of my Life'

I am in Phuntsholing. This is the second time. The first time was when I came to write a selection exam for Credit Officer in STCBL last year. But this time I am on my first official tour to South-Western Regional Office after having joined Bhutan Telecom Ltd.

Photography on the way to Phuntsholing

I don’t have much experience of Phuntsholing from my first visit. I reached here at dusk and left Thimphu right after lunch the very next day. I only remember myself asking more than three people the way to Jaigon and then once there vomiting because of stingy streets. It was during that I wrote this post – And I discovered the wonders of my Bhutan.

But this time, my stay here will be comparatively longer. Hope I can explore more and gain so many experiences. And hope those experiences will be good ones. By the way, Phunstholing is still very hot.Until then enjoy your days, my dear readers!

If Druk Punsum Tshogpa is to face quite a number of accusations, then the scam in supply of electro-mechanical equipment for Punatshangchuu-II and Mangdechhu uncovered by ENERTIA will be yet another one after popular Gyelpozhing land scam. This can be an accusation to it, not only because its members and supporters are accused to have got noticeable involvements in them but because this scam has happened during its reign.

If we believe in figures, the amount those parties must have pocketed will shock anyone – 1.5% commission on total supply of Rs.16 billions. Many people both in India and Bhutan who were involved in this transaction would have become rich beyond proportion out of it.

But we must also look into the reliability of the report. The original report came up from Indian media house called INERTIA. And Indian Medias are said to be good in blowing things before getting actual conclusions. In bi-lateral relationship between India and Bhutan also, it’s always the former that defines track of latter. This may be then one of its strategic moves to guide Bhutan to make it move the direction they want.

Courtesy: KB Wakley

In Bhutan, The Bhutanese Newspaper has pasted the report and blasted in Bhutan. It has taken up to take hold on it and report the development. And also here, we know how this newspaper will remain ever active in things that are meant to be against Druk Punsum Tshogpa. This can be related to the ways it used to report before 2013 election and then after the election.

But ENERTIA has got the original letter sent by BVT (Bhutan Ventures Trading) to its principle BHEL (Bharat Heavy Electricals Ltd) signed by its Managing Director where the rates of commission to be charged are explicitly given in it. If we look at this, it appears more likely that the commission was agreed between the two and pocketed.

However, as I said we cannot yet draw conclusion. It is still in developmental stage or say uncovering stage. In the process things may change. If the conclusion drawn comes as ENERTIA reported then it will be one of the biggest scams in Bhutan. Parties involved therein must be brought to justice. Anti-corruption Commission and Royal Audit Authority need to do more this. You need to explore all ponds. Your strides in exploring things shouldn’t be influenced by the size of fishes in those ponds. Hope you two shed some lights on this issue. We'll just wait.

Note: Too see the letter sent by BVT to BHEL, click on this link& zoom to read.

One day my cousin brother gifted me a book – The Enormous Turnip. It was during one of my primary school vacations. I was at home. I don’t know, probably it must be here I have felt the wonders of books for the first time. I read it again and again. Sooner I was able to narrate it to my friends. It became a matter of pride. There was no problem of having-no-friends. My presence used to be a celebration. I felt myself a useful and wanted friend.

But I wanted to know more stories. I don’t want to tell my friends the same stories again and again. So I thought to request for another book. As if he heard my thoughts, my cousin brought me one more – which was quite thick and colourful – The Jakarta Tales. I loved it more. It has more stories.

He must have thought I am reading well. Number of books started coming from him. Of course I loved reading. But I lacked something that time – something that would have perhaps made me complete reading all those books – inspiration from my parents. My illiterate parents started blaming me for holding and reading books at home which according to them was supposed to be done only at school. I couldn’t read them during day. I couldn’t read after dinner either. I had to sleep immediately because my parents didn’t want to finish kerosene oil at home.

Photo source: Google

I should be a good son. I spared my reading interest. I packed all those books never to be touched them again. As usual when my friends came to see me and my books, I didn’t have anything to show. My worth of being a wanted friend slowly faded. And after reporting to school also, I didn’t read. Not that my teachers didn’t allow me to. Instead an interest to read didn’t come up to me again.

Therefore parents also play important role in instilling or nurturing reading habit in children. I was very unlucky. Firstly my parents are illiterate. Secondly they didn’t realize the importance of reading for me – their son. It was only much later I realized the importance. By then I was late. Friends whose parents are literate and have encourage them to read more books were already ahead of me.

It was a blessing though. God gifted me a power to realize its importance despite being bit late. What will happen in the lives of those children whose parents are too innocent to know its importance or kids themselves don’t realize before being so late? Therefore, parents need to inspire their children in discovering the wonders of books and instill the reading habits in them. And kids having parents who encourage reading habits in them must feel lucky without taking their encouragement for granted.

I can feel Thimphu getting colder every morning I wake up. Winter must have already started its journey to our homes. Trees are becoming leave-less and roads dusty. Dressing patterns in people are also changing. I can see only few girls roaming town wearing pencil-length skirts. Soon they will also surrender and started wearing thick clothes. More over warm jackets and leg-length boots are slowly invading more and more shops in Thimphu.

Back at home, my dad must have already started wearing two ghos by now not to mention one thick north face jacket and also pants inside. My village has similar climate to Thimphu. If I were back at home, I also would have started wearing pants inside a gho. I used to do that before. Though doing that used to help in fighting with coldness to a greater stretch, I can’t think of doing that here in Thimphu. Otherwise people in streets will look at me as if I was some sort of recently BBS broadcasted regular sex-offender.

I will take out those thick ghos which I didn’t wear even once for this long. And I have bought two thick jackets last time. Moreover maybe I can also use mufflers. My wife has knitted two for me after I said she doesn’t know even knitting simple muffler. Those two were just by products in the process of challenging me. I will be benefited. Certainly. She has now started weaving even a gho for me. Guys you have to give challenges to your wives in such areas.

Thimphu town sometimes at the end of autumn season

Hot coffee or tea taste better in winter. I don’t know. Even hot plain water also tastes better in winter. I don’t have much taste for Suja in other seasons. But in winter I shamelessly claim love for it. My wife loves preparing it and keeping in a flask. Sipping suja with Tengma (beaten corn flakes) before having breakfast and dinner is a charm of winter.

I can see number of people selling Thukpa (porridge) after dusk along the pavement of Thimphu increasing. Thukpa do taste better in winter than any other times of the year. You gotta try having it once at least. In late night, those hawkers also sell hot butter teas and of course hot buttered Ara. But for latter, you have to know from whom you can actually get it. If landed asking from wrong person, you’ll be looked like as if you have begged for both of their kidneys. Words of an experience by the way.

And then winter has always remained as a season suitable for coming together. Winter weather hardly proves problematic for long journeys. Conducting reunions, going for vacations or pilgrimages or family members gathering will be conducive in winter. I don’t have plan of reunion or vacation. I don’t have a plan to go for pilgrimage either. I have a different plan; a plan to bring my old parents with me in Thimphu. Hope they will also accept my plan and agree to come with me. This is actually a long due plan of mine.

Hope you guys will enjoy the winter season in your own ways. And also you must have planned series of activities to be done in winter. Enjoy every day of winter. Take care.

Do you keep different passwords for different sites? By sites, I mean like Facebook, Gmail, Hotmail, Twitter, Flickr, Instagram and list will go on, in which you have your own account being created. Or you simply keep same password for all. I used to keep different passwords for different sites. On counting, I used to have around five passwords for five sites.

I have to remember all those passwords. Otherwise I will lose access to all my accounts. This wasn’t a problem when number was less. But recently the number has increased. I have joined instagram, twitter, Wechat and Hotmail on the top of my earlier User IDs in five different sites.

When this number has increased, to remember all of them has also started becoming bit difficult. My memory started faltering. I have to keep them listed. Sometimes, when the list is being lost, I used to face hard time in remembering all of them.

I didn’t want to keep same for all. I was never for it. If at all one is being leaked, all my accounts will be unlocked leading to leakage of all my personal information. My mind was pre-occupied with this thought. When I was in college, my Facebook account and college student portal used to share same password. When one of my friends who knew my student’s portal password easily unlocked my Facebook account, he has posted so many vulgar updates on my wall. Without my knowledge, it has gone very viral. It was only after I got so many calls like that of a Customer Care number, from my real friends and relatives; I came to know about it. Luckily I caught that person. I made him apologize for it.

Photo source: Google

And recently I couldn’t login to my blogger account just because I have got its password wrong. When I couldn’t access even after several attempts, I was blank. I worried whether my blog, which has been very much part of me and had been attending with care for these many days is going to be lost due to my poor memory. I was emotionally down at that instant. I cursed myself for keeping different password for it. If I have habit of logging out whenever I open it, forgetting of password would have never come up. But I used to keep it always logged-in. In due course, I have forgotten it.

But luckily, I must have given my mobile number as an additional credential to recover it. After following gruesome procedures, I have recovered its access. My joy knew no bound then. And the lesson was learned. I have changed passwords of all my accounts. I kept all same. Now additional duty on my part is to protect them. If I lose any one of my account’s password then series of my accounts will be unlocked.

My dear blogger friends hope all your User IDs are well protected. Please be careful. If you don’t care to hold passwords well, you may have to face problem similar to my college incident. You may also lose your access in blogging which luckily didn’t happen to me this time. I am sure none of us will be happy to lose our blogs that way. Our BLOGs are more than just blogs for us. I am sure, all bloggers think so.

Madhav, a boy from Bihar, goes for an interview to try for an admission at St. Stephen College in Delhi through sports quota. When he waits for the start of his sports trail after an interview, he sees a group of college girls playing basketball. One girl among them, with a letter R on her shirt gets his attention.

He sees everything in her perfect. He becomes irresistible. During a break, he could talk and also get her name – Riya. She then gradually becomes very much part of him. But Riya isn’t ready. She just wants to be his friend. When Madhav pushed little farther, she agrees to be little more – his half girlfriend.

Chetan Bhagat like in most of his books usually begins a story when he meets a person and then through a narration made by that person. Madhav is such person in this book. He meets him in a hotel room with a stack of journals Riya has written. Madhav requests him to read them as he himself cannot do so. In the process Madhav narrates how he has first met Riya, and how he has fallen for her.

The story of Madhav and his half girlfriend Riya happens in three places: Delhi, Bihar & then in America.

They get separated from Delhi. Riya goes away saying she is going to marry with one of his childhood friend, businessman based in America. But later she discovers dark side of him and breaks off and then returns to India.

Madhav despite getting a job in one of the companies, he refuses it and goes back to Bihar and helps his mother in running their family ran non-profit school. The school being little old, Madhav and his mother try to find some helps from the local government for its repairing. Here we’ll find different ripples of Indian Politics being displayed. It was only later when Bill Gates visits this school, their school gets fund from his foundation. Sometimes before visit of Bill Gates, Madhav once again meets Riya and confessed she has divorced from Rohan. She helps Madhav in preparation of speech to be delivered in front of Bill Gates.

Riya is nowhere to be seen after Madhav completes his speech delivery. A girl later hands a letter to him left by Riya. In it, she has mentioned that she wants to go somewhere where she finds peace. She has thanked him for his help and then has also mentioned that she has got lung cancer.

Photo source: Google

Madhav searches for her. He goes to her apartment and also to banks to check whether he can get her where-about information from her account details. She is nowhere to be found. By then he realizes the dream of Riya – which she has told him earlier – to become a singer in one of the bars in America.

Madhav then applies for an internship in Gates Foundation so that he can search for Riya in America. An acceptance of his application for the internship provides little hope for him and he leaves America.

He continues searching for Riya. He visits every bar. But Riya isn’t anywhere. His internship’s end is just a day away. The next day he’ll be leaving to India. But at evening, he gets a brochure for evening street show. Going through it, he finds a singer named Ray whose description resembles his Riya. He books the seat and goes there to attend the show. He finds Ray at backstage. She is indeed his Riya. They meet each other for the third time.

She promises to be with him. But author doesn’t tell us what happened to her lung cancer. They return to Bihar and continue to look after the non-profit school. Madhav’s mother then retired teacher stays at home looking after their two-year old son Shyam. At last Riya not only becomes full girlfriend of Madhav but also becomes his wife.

This book also provides easy read with good love story. It not only brings out how Indians still hold on races and their wealth in defining social statuses but also some of their small yet popular political ripples. Madhav is always being discouraged by his friends from loving Riya just because she is from a wealthy business family and Madhav from a poor state of Bihar. But at last Madhav proves if we have true love, we can get through any hindrance – no matter how big or small. Half Girlfriend, a well written novel, will be loved by all ages of life. Read it yourself. This review in many ways will be full of shortfalls.

It’s only during holidays I am able to remain myself. In other days, I am busy trying to prove how hardworking and sincere I can be. I have to remain careful in the world of competitions. There are many people who watch every move I make. But as much as I try to maintain a required pace, I might be failing to hold the grips. And then in the process of making necessary attempts to hide my shortcomings, those people around me will be seeing the other side of me – which actually doesn’t contain original parts of me.

But during holidays, I am so lazy to put on those masks which I put on at my work stations. I don’t need to use them actually. The laziness those holidays provide takes me one step closer to my families, friends and relatives with whom I have milked the essences of life. This holidays-filled week has provided me laziness – a laziness which made me realize how much I have missed from my life.

I was away from blogging and other social networks for quite a while. I wasn’t involved in back-breaking and knee-wrenching works as to quote reason for it. I was busy trying to remain myself and showing all those people with whom my life is related, the originalities of me.

Druk Gyalpo Jigme Singye Wangchuk. Source: Google

Those people are also just like me – who are equally busy in their own ways. It is indeed sad to learn that we have almost forgotten each other. But when life provides with such moments to catch-up with earlier lost moments, we feel rejuvenated as if we were back to that stage where life was easy filled with funs.

The Birth Anniversary of Druk Gyalpo Jigme Singye Wangchuk not only brought whole Bhutan to one, it also brought small social units – families together. I, along with my family went Changlingmithang to celebrate this holiday. It was the first time I entered this stadium and that also with my families.

And then the Descending of Lord Buddha came. We went to Lungtenzampa Police ground to receive blessings. Though sun was bit hot and surrounding dusty, nothing deterred us. We didn’t go there to get blessings; we went there to get blessed. It was almost dark when we finally got blessings.

This is my short review of the week. Hope you guys also celebrated this week in your own ways. Until then take care. By the way, weekend is almost near. Have a lazy yet wonderful weekend. Thanks for your visits. God Bless you All.

When I told my sister back at village that I am coming to get our parents to Thimphu with me, she was shocked. Not only was she shocked at my call at that unusual hour, but also for such an abrupt decision from my side. I called her at around 10:30 p.m on Friday. I have decided and my itinerary was set to leave the very next day.

I usually love surprises. Therefore, I must have never told her when I am exactly coming to get my parents. But my love for surprises was just like a decision of a hunter for them. They were very reluctant to send our parents until they are mentally and of course materialistically prepared. Moreover they have so much to say; they weren’t given enough time to set an appropriate date to send our parents away.

I pleaded them to consider my decision this time. I had to actually. Otherwise the amount I have paid for hire of a car and also for the driver will be wasted. My family has sacrificed so much to reach that amount.

Walking Buddha in Thimphu Centenary Park

It took them so much time to consider it. I sighed like a burst of an air-tight balloon when they gave a green signal for it. Still I felt a tint of reluctance in her voice.

The next day i.e. on Saturday at around 5.30 a.m my journey to Zhemgang started. It was cold. I was snuggled inside a car to keep myself warm. As I descended down Dochu La and then reflecting upon the words my sister has said the previous day, I started wondering whether I was doing the right thing. With that thoughts loaded in me, we could reach the destination at around 10 p.m. My brothers, sisters, relatives and of course were waiting for our arrivals. Some of them have already slept. Our arrivals immediately took them out of their cushions – sound sleep.

It was get-to-know each other sort of program for us. I realized how much I have grown old for these few years. All my nephews and nieces have grown beyond the proportion I can recognize them.

We started our return-to-Thimphu journey at around 5a.m. Despite annoying bumpy and fidgety roads, we safely made to Thimphu at 11 at night. Though the journey has consumed so much of us, we were happy – we finally made to Thimphu. I was happy. My parents were also happy. Hope they’ll have a wonderful stay with me here in Thimphu.

When our life like sun descends down,

Our death like shadow looms near us,

Just like a hair out of frozen butter slice,

We will be soon taken out of this world.

We can’t take any part of this body with us,

Yet we blindly take care of it so much,

Deeds which will follow us like shadow,

Are being left at shore without much care.

Empty-handed we have entered this world,

And if we don’t do anything good in this life,

Just how we have first come in this world,

We’ll leave like a trader who returns home broke.

Therefore, it’s not too early for all of us,

To either do good deeds or give up bad,

When this uncertain life beckons us to leave,

Only they will be capable to pave our ways,

________________________________________

Courtesy: Google

If you like showing quite a number of posts in your blog and also if number of widgets added in your blog's sidebar isn't few, the vertical length of your blog will be quite long. And in such situation, for readers, it becomes quite cumbersome to scroll back all the way to top once they are done reading till its bottom.

Photo source: Google

To solve this problem, we can add BACK TO TOP navigational button in your blog. Though some templates have this button inbuilt, many don't have it. Therefore, today I will give steps on how to add this button in your blog. Just follow following steps:

Step 1:

Step 2:

Click on TEMPLATE of the blog for which you want this button

Step 3:

Click on EDIT HTML of the blog

Step 4:

Find this code in it. Below it add the given code in it and just below it add the given code

Step 5:

Once it's being added, click on SAVE TEMPLATE button

Step 6:

Now towards left, click on LAYOUT button

Step 7:

Add one HTML widget i.e. HTML/Javascript

Step 8:

Once this widget box has popped up, in the CONTENT space, cut and add the given code (you can leave the title space blank)

Step 9:

It's almost done. Click on SAVE button at the bottom of this new widget box

Step 10:

You can reposition this widget wherever you want. No matter where you place it, this button will appear only at the right side of the blog's bottom. Once you click on SAVE ARRANGEMENT, it's done. Now open the blog. It'll appear at the bottom of your blog.

There was a son who always used to come home late from school. And then when he reaches home, series of excuses used to flow from him to avoid scolding from his parents.

When his late comings became more consistent, his father was put into worry that his son is going off track socially. Therefore, one day he brought a robot at home and made compulsory for his son to explain reasons in front of the robot whenever he comes late. This robot has got an inbuilt capability to detect lies and slaps the one who tells lies.

On the first day, as usual, the son was late. The father called him in front of the robot to explain reasons. Curious about how this robot’s going to detect his lies, his mother also came near the robot. A robot was in middle and three of them around it.

The son continued his explanations. The robot in the midst of his explanations raised its hands and slapped him. When slapped for the first time, the son didn’t give damn and continued his explanations. When slapped for third time, the son broke into cries. “This robot is telling lie. I went to get my books.” The son sobbed. The father was simply laughing.

When the robot kept on slapping the son, the mother raised her voice and said that how can a father enjoy so much when his son is getting beaten up. “Can’t you guide your true son using non-violent tactics?” The robot raised its hand and slapped the mother.

Just for the sake of post thumbnail. Source: Google

The father sensed lies even in the words of his wife. Arguments broke in the family. Father was angry for the only son wasn’t his. Mother was angry for bringing that useless robot and making her son and her getting slapped unnecessarily.

“How could you be so unfaithful to your husband?” the father thundered to his wife. “When I have been loyal to you all along, you must have been playing around a lot.” The robot again raised its hand and slapped the father.

The mother was fired up. “If this robot is actually capable of detecting lies, then even you’re a liar.” The father thought the robot is so intelligent and kept his lips clipped. The son was still sobbing at the corner. When the mother suggested selling off the robot, the father accepted – he was afraid that otherwise everything will be revealed.

The next day, the robot was sold off to one of the scrap dealers. The family was back into earlier square. The son continued coming home late. His parents stopped telling him anything ever. Yet air of confusion remained in the family – all thought whether they are being true or that robot. Yet none brought this topic out. All kept silent.

This is the story of modern families. But such robot isn’t yet invented. If our scientific advancement pace is so high and comes up with such lies-detecting-robot, I am quite sure all of us will get slapped – nobody is being truthful in this world today. Faithfulness is long forgotten concept, trust is nowhere and love and care are long buried principles.

“Hello, Apa”, I am Sherab, your son from Thimphu.

“Who?” came a husky reply. “I am Sherab, your son”. I made it bit loud this time to make him hear my words. Exactly he has got it. “Ok. How have you been then?”

Keeping same pitch, I said “I have been fine Apa. Hope everything is fine there?” “I cannot see anything around me. And I can hear only shouters. Otherwise everything is fine” was a reply from him.

I was brought to thought. “What happened to your eyes?” In 2010 there wasn’t any problem to his sight. I was wondering what must have happened to him during this barely four years.

“May be the age is gaining over me. Nothing physical has happened actually. I don’t know. I cannot see anything”.

“How do you feel without being able to see anything?” I don’t know what made me ask that question. Later I regretted.

“I am totally handicapped and dependent. Ama has to be always near me. Without sight, it seems I am older by may be 10 years.” I took a sigh and said, “You mean you can see nothing?”

“Nothing. I wish I could see at least for a month. I am wondering how Damcho looks like. He was unluckily born when his grandfather is blind.” He paused. And then from there I didn’t hear anything. I was lost in thought and already started planning if I can bring back his sight.

“He isn’t good looking. His looks don’t deserve your look. You better be blind” I joked. I said goodbye and then I was snuggled up inside my blanket with tosses and turns thinking if I can help my father to gain his sight.

It was sometimes at that time, I got to watch a program in BBS. It was about how old people are becoming blind due to thickening of their cataracts. And then doctor was explaining how and where it can be done. I pinned those words and promised myself to bring my father at Thimphu to see if the reason of his blindness is also thickening of the cataracts. I then started saving some amount out of my monthly salary.

My home Thrisa. Courtesy: Tempa Dargay

There was so much sense of an accomplishment when my savings could bring him at Thimphu for the medication. I couldn’t wait any longer to reach him for necessary check-ups as much as he did. Yesterday, after series of check-ups, his right eye got operated. And then as asked by doctor, we went to hospital today to undress it.

When all bandages have been removed, I could see smiles on his face. I assumed he is able to see now. After taking out of hospital room and on asking whether he could see me, he was more than happy to say that he is able to see well.

My mother was waiting outside. On reaching near her, he smilingly looked at mother and said, “Oh, you have accumulated so many wrinkles on your face. I never thought you would be that much old by now”.

“This shows I have served you enough, you an old blind donkey”, she fired back. He laughed saying that he is no more blind now and started walking ahead of us by few strides to show off that he can walk without our supports now.

And from there we went to Memorial Chorten. We made few rounds and I thanked gods for successful operation and then giving my father a sight for second time. From there three of us went around Thimphu Town which according to my dad is Bazaar Gongma and then to Children Park. As we walked, unlike in morning when we brought him to hospital, when I saw him walk freely ahead of us without of anyone of us needed to support, I could see my first achievement in life. The second achievement will be after his left eye is being operated.

I have already started missing what winter will bring - snow. I have experienced snowfall only for once in my life - 2013. There was so much joy. But I couldn't enjoy it much. I was just fighting to get myself settled when heaven brought those fluffy white snow flakes in my residence streets and pavements.

But now I guess I am settled. Hopefully, I may be able to enjoy the beauty of winter season this time. Thimphu has become already cold. This means snowfall will be not very far.

But before winter will bring its own beauty, let me revisit summer season and its beauty. For this, I have posted some of the flowers I have taken during one of the summers. Hope you'll enjoy them.

Singye Namgyel, a little boy from Thimphu Primary School used to be one of the active bloggers from Bhutan. When I came across his blog for the first time and then reading about him, I doubted whether he is actually a primary school kid. The way he writes, I thought, will be something anyone can expect from a boy of his age.

But it was true. He is an Eleven year old primary school kid who really blogs well. That's why, I heard, he was called in to make special appearance in one of the sessions of this year's Mountain Echoes as the youngest inspiring Blogger from Bhutan.

However, it has been quite a while I haven't come across any update from him. I wondered what must have happened to him. So today I typed his blog's URL to see whether it was me who had never read his updates or him who hasn't updated for this long.

Courtesy: Singye's Blog

The discovery I made from it is indeed quite a sad one. He has lost all the contents of his blog. There's hardly anything in his blog. It's only the 'About Me' page and few comments on that which are visible for me. I just wondered what must have happened to his blog - may be the contents were lost accidentally.

I don't know how he must be feeling about it. If I were him, I would have gone nut for losing all the contents. It will be like a losing flowers from a garden of passionate gardener. His blog has personalized domain. So my doubt is whether he has hosted his blog in a reliable web-hosting company. Otherwise this shouldn't happen to his blog - him - a young inspiring blogger from Bhutan.

Therefore, my request for his parents or his relatives who have nurtured so much of this blogging passion in him to fix this issue as soon as possible. Otherwise this passion in him will experience a premature death - which you all certainly won't want that to happen. And me, as one of the regular readers of his updates will be waiting until it's being fixed. Hope Singye's Blog will make reappearance very soon. All the best of luck!

This is my realization at Last

An evening walk with a prostitute part - II

I travel around the round world!

Looking back the day I first entered blogging

When all things appear to be against my way

Chetan Bhagat's The 3 mistakes of my Life in Review

My second visit to Phuntsholing Bhutan

On supply of electro-mechanical equipment SCAM

When our parents don't know the value of reading

When winter has come to our homes

At a war to remember all my passwords

Chetan Bhagat's Half Girlfriend in Review

When holidays bring people together

I finally brought my parents at Thimphu

When our life like sun descends down

10 steps to add BACK TO TOP button in your Blog

Modern family story - A robot that slaps liars

When blessed with sight for the second time

Celebrating winter with flowers from summer

What must have happened to Singye's Blog?