Saturday, November 30, 2013

The Last of Fall

Mellowed yellowish and orange leaves covered the ground making the earth a mustard floor. It swiftly blows away as the crisp autumn wind gushes. Everywhere you look; it’s the leaves falling to the ground. Thus, today, it officially marks the end of fall.

Long, cold and dreadful winter awaits now. Duvet days are definitely in. In this weather, I simply love to indulge in watching movies in bed or drinking steaming tea and reading or blogging by the fireplace.
What would be your simple delights? 

 Have a happy weekend!

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Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Sometimes the heart brags of human bondage

Thimphu at 6 am in the morning
The half completed assignment was still lying on the desk. The page of the book was perfectly folded and stacked away in the shelf waiting to be read again. The daily favorite tv shows were missed. Everything came to a complete standstill when I left for the hospital. I had an unfinished love affair with my assignment, my book and the tv shows. The hospital ward I had to live in for 5 days became an entirely new world. I was then Alice in Wonderland. 

I had the least of the knowledge that the world I would be living in for the next 5 days will be the one where sorrows, frets and frustrations were everybody’s everyday’s chores. 

Etherized on the hospital bed, my mother had yet to regain her consciousness and return to the reality of pain from the surgery. The water had completely drained from her pale face and she looked ghostly thin. 

Pungent air filled the ward. It fatigued me and made me sick at the pit of my stomach. I wondered how the patients were able to breathe in the air. But they were so much in pain that the pungent air was nothing compared to their pain. 

Dressed in pink and blue pants and shirts with their mouth carefully masked, the nurses came and checked the patient’s blood pressure and gave doses of the medicine as and when required. 

Opposite to my mother’s bed, a middle aged man was tending to his old wife. They had just returned from her chemotherapy treatment from Kolkata, the husband told me. The wife had lost all her hair to the treatment and she looked like a ragged doll. 

Next to their bed was an elderly couple. The wife had just done her surgery the day before my mother was admitted. A urinary plastic bag was attached to her bed and she could not walk. 

The husband was kneeling on the bed beside her and he looked at me with sympathy. I was exactly sitting in the same position like him. He could understand the pain of my mother. 
Through our eyes, we nodded at each other and understood each other’s struggles-struggle to see your loved one go under the knife, that moment of waiting outside the operation theatre and now the moment of waiting for my mother to regain her consciousness and for his wife to heal post-surgery; for her to be able to walk, eat and smile and go back to their village. They came for the surgery from their village, I was told. 

In another bed, a lanky looking man was tending to his wife who had undergone Cesarean Section to deliver the baby. She told me that this is their fifth child in a row. The husband had no job and they had no relatives. “Being poor is difficult, because there’s no one to look after when you are sick.” she said. 

The husband was juggling between the pediatric ward where the baby was kept and to the maternity ward where the mother was. 

The next day, they were discharged from the hospital. An old woman replaced the bed. Surprisingly, she also had no one to look after her at the hospital. Her left part of the body was paralyzed partially. I helped her with her coma to wear the kira and get her meals. She didn’t have a cell phone and couldn’t read or write to have noted down the numbers of her family. 

Everywhere I looked there was agony, hovering with large hollowed eyes. Human bondage is so powerful; even if I wanted to escape it, I couldn’t have gone far. My mother could never have escaped this surgery. 

Soon darkness started seeping in through the ward’s window. I looked outside, the cars flew past, and people were hurrying all bundled up in scarves and warm coats. Everybody had a destination to go to. Anxious they must be to reach the comfort and warmth of their homes, hurrying to feed their hungry and wailing babies at home, excited to see their loved ones. 

Anxiously, I also waited for my mother to talk to me, for her to reach out her hand and tell me to moisten her dried lips at least for she was not allowed to drink water. Often times, the irony of life hit me hard. Today you are here, tomorrow you may be gone. 

Soon silence overcame the darkness. It depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence. I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. 
I longed for the comfort of my bed, a cup of steaming tea and a comfortable place to sit on and doze off. For a big time sleeper like me, eye bags had already started to appear under my eyes. 

Just another night and a new hope would dawn upon, I thought.The hope of going away from the ward excited me. The new dawn indeed brought me hopes. Mother was doing a lot better than expected. 

After another four nights, we were finally going home. The warm autumn sun welcomed us crisply. It was a different feeling for my lungs to breathe in fresh air. 

Outside, everything was perfectly normal, as if nothing grave is happening inside the hospital wards and the whole concept of hospital is non-existent. 

I took a deep breath, inhaled the fresh air as much as I could and my smile was the largest. Largest because there’s so much irony in life. 

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Sunday, November 17, 2013

5 reasons why I can never be a fashion blogger

I have often wondered how all those fashion bloggers manage to look so chic and perfect in their outfit photos. The poses they do to make the photo so appealing effortlessly and of course the outfit. I know this is simply not my thing. I’m more of a PJ and a sweatshirt person. I’m most at ease when I’m in them. That’s why here are the FIVE reasons I can never master the art of being a fashion blogger. 

1. I’m not a great poser: I just don’t know how to pose like a pro or look cute at least. In all my photos, my head is always tilted to the left; it goes off automatically as if I’m programmed to do that. Call this my signature pose. The HAND; 95% of the time I’m not sure where to place it and I tend to place it at the wrong place all the time. The picture below is the testimony. 
1.The Signature pose, head always tilted to the left. 2. Same Cardigan in the first and second pic 3. Check out the cross legged pose 4. The hairstyle

2. I’m not a fashionista : Apart from the traditional dress for work, 90% of the time, I will be wearing the same outfit over and over again. I’ll be droning the same outfit; Jeans, a top and of course the cardigan with a pair of loafers. Even if the weather gets too cold, I’ll be layering up ultimately with the cardigan. I buy clothes, shoes, bags and makeup but wear the same cardigan and carry the same bag, wear the same shoes until it breaks or wear the same scarf over and over again. Grrr…I’m this plain boring and lazy. 

3. The same old hairstyle: My hair is not exciting. I never try to experiment my hair (again laziness it could be or I dare not to look outrageous). It’s the same old left parting. Wash, blow-dry (sometimes), comb, let loose and go- that’s the only routine my hair have gone through for the past 27 years. 

4. My life is monotonous: My life lies on the 7 km road stretch between home and office so I land up wearing the same outfit again and again. Apart from the little grocery and vegetable shopping I do while returning from work, I do not meet many people. So neither is my life interesting to plan outfits.

5. My color palette is black or dull: I feel like I’m screaming if I wear pops of neon. So 95% of my closet is filled with either black or grey or dull colors. But, I’m learning to incorporate other shades.

So,do you also have reservations to become a fashion blogger like me?

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Saturday, November 9, 2013

How safe is your town?

Image source : Kuensel

It isn’t surprising any longer to hear news of burglary or auto stripping in Thimphu these days. However, when you wake up to the news of a cold blooded murder in your backyard, it disturbs you tremendously. The murder of a 48 year old Indian official in Chang Jalu, Olakha on the night of November 7 shook the residents of Chang Jalu. If you have been following this blog, you know why I’m gravely concerned over this for the virtue disadvantage of being a Chang Jalu resident.  
Chang Jalu is largely a residential area. However, it has all the facilities of bars, drayangs... that encourage unwanted activities. It’s common to hear fighting at night and people high on alcohol disturbing the whole neighborhood.  
With majority of the offices located in the core city, returning home from office late in the evening is becoming a safety issue. There are no street lights in the area. In fact, the area where the body was found dead is a pitch black area in the evening where you encounter deadly looking young men and women.

The security personnel just a yell away isn’t of any help either since they are mostly locked inside their cabin to escape the awful cold in the night or they must be snoring to heaven’s glory, we can’t blame them. 
The previous night, my nephews who were returning home from celebrating Diwali were also robbed off their mobile phones and cash on the same spot. 

Urban Bhutan is becoming increasingly unsafe. Why don’t the concerned authorities do something to avoid such social ills? In this case, putting proper street lights in this area could have avoided the miscreants to carry out unnecessary activities. The concern of street lights has always been there for this area. My cousin who returns from office late in the evening given the nature of her job shared with me some months ago that she doesn’t feel safe to walk home from this area. I, as a concerned resident and a responsible gender focal point raised this issue in one of the consultation meetings with the relevant stakeholder long time back. However, the outcome of the meeting remained in policy papers only. 

Not long ago Thimphu was considered as one of the safest cities. It was perfectly ok to run to a grocery store to shop leaving your car’s ignition on. Now what has become of urban Thimphu? This could be just a tip of an iceberg, so many cases go unreported. Sadly, it’s our youths who are dragged and involved in such social ills. 

I hope the concerned authorities really start doing something immediately so that the next morning residents of another town do not wake up to the news of another murder in their backyard. 

I pay my deep condolences to the bereaved family.  

Until then, remain safe. 

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Sunday, November 3, 2013

100 things I ❤ - Part Ten

Finally, finally this post saw the light of the day. It has been on my draft for quite some time now. May be because the series has come to an end that I didn’t want to end it by posting the last part or I was plain lazy to do it. I’ve a strong intuition that the latter could be the reason.  
All these while, the cold weather has chased me to hibernation and the queen of procrastinator I’m, I want to shoot myself sometimes. Three days off for a weekend and all I did was spend endless time on the internet, doing nothing productive of course. Well, I need to work on the thing that is due tomorrow, but I just got the greatest idea for this other thing that is due next month. I’ll work on that first. That’s how I sidetrack work.  

Sometimes I wonder whether I’m really alive and kicking to have possessed this kind of attitude. I'm not having a quarter life crisis, am I? Seriously, I need some motivatiooonnnnn….

You know what I want to do. I just want to sit around a fireplace, reading books and drinking coffee. I wish I get paid for that. I‘d have easily given up my 9-5 job.  
See, I’ve already delayed you in this post, the finaaallll post to Things I  ❤ series. 

#91 Sweater, fluffy and comfy in this weather


#92  Sleeping to the sound of rain

#93 Trees in Autumn, yellowish and orange in color

#94 Watching movies in bed

#95 Romantic Evenings

#96 Discovering a new blog

#97 Book Shelves : As much as I love reading and sniffing books, I love to collect and preserve it. And I'm on my mission to building my fantasy book shelf.

#98 Bonfires

#99 Being loved

#100 You, my dear readers for coming this far with me. 

Woah! I'm finally done with this series. I'm not sure what I'll blog about now. I had so much fun getting to know myself by penning down the little things in life that reminds me to be happy and thankful about. I'm sure you enjoyed as much as I did. And I don't know but I didn't want this to end.

[All image credit :]

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