FED-UP OF STUDYING!

It's the end of May and June will start. And the whole month of June and July I will be giving the exams for the second professional year.


I am sick of studying. I have been studying diligently  since January and now it's going to be JUNE! 
I realized my final year on Earth (according to the Mayan calendar and the movie 2o12) is not as fantastic and fully lived as last of lives should be. 2011 was a good year. Half of 2012 gone in doing nothing else but study.


To make it up for the fun parts lost, right after exams I am going to be... ummm
-Boozing.
-Steal the lecturers car.
-Graffiti paint my Forensic lecturers wall (NOT FB wall).
-Dig a pit and trap that annoying boy in my class.
-Spike the drink with Furosemide ( cause excess urination) and give to the girl before a 3 hour lecture.
-Break a leg (Literally). And wouldn't it be fun to get all the attention.

pE@ce.

Chortens and Plants.

A child plays hide and seek.

Chorten means a small shrine dedicated to the gods and the local deities.

Religious inscriptions on slate.

Make a Wish.

It's wonderful enough to see them, more wonderful to hear them crunch!

And for those of you who didn't get bored and close the window, that is ME. (Exclusive).

The Grim Reaper and the Old Man.

DISCLAIMER: This is a long poem. Overall not so bad.
By Poetess- Diksha Chhetri.

In the darkest hour of the night,
When the stars are shining and the moon is bright.
Came the grim reaper to reap the soul,
Of a five year old boy as he had been told.

The darkness spread in his presence.
He had taken souls for eons and eons
Of many unsuspecting souls.
He was only doing was he was told.
His eyes glimmered a bright bloody red.
Scars and stories made up for his head.
His faithful scythe he carried in his hand.
And scoured the living unknown land.
His cloak was black and his face
Showed no anger, no love, no hate, no grace.

He finally reached the little house.
Where the little boy lay tucked in like a mouse.
He lay entombed in the the cold.
The doctors had told he would not grow old.
The reaper had come to reap the soul.
Of this little boy as he had been told.

The house was small and dirtier were the mats.
There was only this little boy and no other brats.
Their furniture were creaking old and bad.
Where sat the worried sad old grand dad.
It was a cold chilly winter.
But they had no room heater.
Nor was there any fire at the fireplace.
To set the grim reaper ablaze.
The old man in his late eighties,
Made soup of cabbages and pieces of fish
For his darling little grandson
Who would not grow old enough to be handsome.
The owners of the house,
Were not even rich enough to feed a mouse.
They had gone out to do the odd jobs.
Which would only earn them corn cobs.
Such were the conditions under
Which the little boy was to surrender.
Out of this sad world of greed and hate.
Of poverty and demolition, where poor men prostrate.
Where the evil men eat and be merry.
Where the good men are losing their dignity.

The reaper entered their tiny home.
The old man sensed him like a storm.
He turned around and met those blank eyes.
And the scythe-it was the reapers device.
The moment then completely froze,
Pointed to the boy and said, "He goes,
With me to the eternal land.
His time is up. I hope you understand."

It hit the old man like a lightening had struck.
It was a sign of sheer bad luck.
Then he gathered courage and finally said,
"He is just a little boy, please take me instead."
The reaper still expressionless,
Said he did not want to create a mess.
Old man your time has not yet come.
But the boys life is over before it even began.

This is an absolute injustice.
Take me away, spare my boy please.
The reaper considered this for a while.
But there was no goodness in him. He was vile.
So he said this time with anger,
Old man I am taking this young boy, you cannot wager
Yourself in exchange for his dear life.
Such is the law of nature and it's strife.
The old man scared he was a lot!
There are many things I have brought
in my life. This is my final wish to buy
My grandsons life. I do not want him to die.

My friend suggested these instead of THAT LINE!

The reaper annoyed very much now.
Shouted out like an angry cow.
Brandished his scythe at the old man.
And said, "Very well then stop me if you can."
And he went right through the door.
"I have never met any one like you before".
The old man immediately entered the tiny room.
Where lay his grandson in his doom.

The reaper determined to reap this boy.
And take away the man's bundle of joy.
He said to the reaper once again.
To take his soul, it would be a better bargain.
He had got everything in his life.
A decent job and a beautiful wife.
Loving children and all those little happiness.
A lasting love that did not regress.
I am poor and unable to afford healthy food,
Or else my grandson would be health-wise very good.
I am poor and so my grandson suffers,
But he is a darling boy and be buffers
Al the badness in this world.
He is smart and uncunning and very bold.
He helps everybody in his little way.
He can brighten up anyone's day.
He is good to his fellow mates.
Oh reaper, I am your suitable candidate.

The reaper tired now of the man's perseverance.
Turned away from the little boy and hence,
asked the old man if he was sure.
The granddad nodded and made it clear,
He was a good man, a good granddad.
This little boy was everything he ever had.
He wanted this little boy to live.
A good life being a good man with faith and belief,
That this world is not only dominated by
Bad men and this unruly lying alibi.

So the reaper reaped the old mans' soul.
He did not do as he had been told.
He was not as vile and dreaded.
As people had branded him with hatred.

The old body flopped onto the floor.
The poor couple returned at around four.
Their little son lay in his warm cot.
Rosy cheeks and a good life his granddad had bought.

The poem ends in this final verse.
With the decoration of the old mans hearse.

The flight from Paro to BBSR.

I flew from Paro to Kolkata and then to Bhubaneswar. 

Now this may sound very stupid but I admit that I am a teeny weeny itsy bitsy bit afraid of travelling by air. Maybe this has some connection to the fact that I am acrophobic too.

So I sat by the window seat. I always have to get the window seat.  A past middle aged man sat beside me and he constantly kept reading the in flight magazine. The plane started moving slow at first like being in a car, and then it started gaining more momentum.

Here are some of the things that I think of:

When the plane is elevating: " The plane is going to crash right at that mountain and we are never going to make it outside the plane. The flames will consume us."

When we are still ascending: "Why is the plane not flying straight? Oh no! We going up and still more up till we overcome gravity and then we are going to fly right past the ozone layer and the exosphere. We will run out of air and our insides will pop out because of the pressure."

When the plane is in the stratosphere and makes a change in direction: "Uh oww... Something is wrong. We are tilting more and more. The plane it going to flip over! If it flips over what are we going to do? Will the stewardesses be thrown around because they aren't wearing the seat belts!"

When we hit turbulence: "The internals of this plane has broken down. Oh no! Who is going to fix that! I think the oil is leaking and then we running out of fuel! The pilots are not telling this because they don't want us panicking."

When the plane is descending: "The pilot is losing control. Oh no. The gravity is pulling us to our death! If we crash I am going to cover my head with my hands."

When we land: "The plane is unstoppable. WHY IS IT MAKING SO MUCH OF NOISE! The engine has burst, that's why!" And I look outside to see the engine perfectly fine and running.

And along with all that crap thinking I hear a lot of creaks and groans in the plane too. Strange that no one but I notice all that. I look around and see people calm. I appear calm too but all these thinking rages in my head.

But then I think again. I am not going to die. It's not my time to go yet. I still have to a lot of things left to do. If I die I am going to a pain-in-the-butt ghost! 

Yesterday as these rumbling thoughts were taking place in my head, I put my hands over my head (pretending I was protecting my head when the plane crashed) and then the tangerine juice on my tray came crashing right on my groin! The man next to me startled and called the stewardess immediately who handed me wads of tissue paper. everyone on board knew what happened! The juice had plenty of pulp. I calmly dabbed the juice from my jeans and felt it seep into my underwear. But I had to smile and let the stewardess think the situation was under control! She left. 

And I was left with smiling and dabbing away the juice- from my jeans!

After that I had six hour halt at Kolkata where there was a Caucasian a total look alike of Chad Micheal Murray who constantly kept an eye on me. Creepy, isn't it?(Actually I think it was awesome). Maybe he thought I was super cute. (Oh that's what I actually thought). But to be real, I think he was just BORED.


It's wonderfully warm in India. 

The Black Sheep and The Beautiful Swan.

That is my younger sister. She considers herself as the black sheep of the family. So I made her into one.
And as if that is not enough she ridicules at my status as the eldest one in the family and all the power that comes along with it.

Therefore, I turned myself into a beautiful swan.


We have been joking about how Ann-the Black sheep's' wool will be turned into a RARI. A what? Yes, a RARI. That would be a like a mat made supposedly made of superior quality wool, but only the ones who have sat on it would know how bad the rashes and sores it leave on the butt.

And that would be a RARI.

If I was a Super Hero now.

If I was a super hero now, would I have been a medical student?
If I was a super hero now, would I be in my room studying so late?
If I was a super hero now, would I have been out on the streets in my supercool costume?

The superhero Diksha.

I would be big and green
And a beauty Queen.
All the boys would respect me.
My hair would sway as I would walk by
And I would be the awesomest of all.


I would be out there fighting that big bad guy,
Instead of crouching before a big fat book.
I would be the apple of Batman's eye.
And I would be the nightmares of all the crooks.
Then Superman would greet me as a colleague.
And Wonder Woman and I would fly together.
I would be a member of the Justice League.

Spider Man would come to visit me.
I could help him with his web or two.
Instead of getting tangled with the medical degree.
I would be flying around the dark streets.
I would dance to the hip hop beat.
And 

Time to end my fantasy, although I can keep going on and on. 

The exam has rendered me insane (not that anybody would care).

Bhutan has a long way to go.

Last night I was chatting on Facebook with a Bhutanese guy who studied abroad and now has a job there. As a friendly commentary we got to discuss his pay and then he just added as a friendly whole commentary that he should stick out there for few more years and marry a blondie(Irrelevant to the topic but and we were joking). When asked for my opinion, I actually no no clue what to answer. And I thought for few seconds and told him this, "Given the current situation our country is in, it would be better if you lived out there and earn the hard currency, earn a little lot more and then come back to the country with the advanced expertise and of course the hard currency." (I did not advise to the blondie joke).


It wouldn't hurt if he is missing from Bhutan for a few years. As of right now the sky is falling in Bhutan and quite literally. Had anyone thought this day would come? And not so significant if looked from an foreigners perspective. But as a Bhutanese citizen we are in dire need of an eleventh hour Samaritan who would hand us over a billion Indian Rupees. 


Yes the country's source of everything is now slowly depleting. Because almost everything came from India and some other countries. Massive imports and so little of export. This day was of course then destined to come. Eighty percent of our population are engaged in agriculture and yet we had/have to depend on the imports from outside. Why is that? Why hadn't we not taken up to reinforcing the eighty percent of our agricultural potential in supplying our citizens the basic demands of life?


And of course the other basic demands of life- clothing and shelter. Everything comes from outside. Your t-shirts and your jeans are from Bangkok. Your sports equipment are from Hongkong. Your SUVs are all the way from Japan. And then your food and vegetables are from India.
Why are we here today? 


I will admit I have never studied economics in my life. But as an idiot I am, this mind of mine tells me that Bhutan as a whole has skipped a lot of those stepping stones of development. We come in one of the fastest developing nations of the world. What was Bhutan 20 years ago? There were no roads and people had to depend on the sturdy foot of their mules and horses. And there were no chemical fertilizers, but people worked hard and their plots flourished with vegetables and rice and those basic things that earned your survival.


And in these 20 years, the development has boomed so much that people grew indolent. The easy life was presented and people always choose the easy life. The basic necessities of life for which we did not need to depend on others before, we chose to just "import". And import more. After all the varieties from outside the country are always a bit 'exotic'?


We haven't seen people on bi-cycles and then graduating to Scooters and then finally to a small affordable car . Everybody wants a Land Cruiser. Pass out from college, enroll in a decent job and buy a Land Cruiser. On loan. (I am citing just one example).
What a waste! This unpractical approach to living has generated a nation whereby we have become so dependent on others. Because many citizens of the country drown in the vicious cycle of not being able to pay and then having to give up "what has been earned".


The youth are sprawling on streets of Thimphu and move around aimlessly as unemployed lot while we have numerous labourers from outside the country. The urban problem continues.


It is time we should now go back to the very basics. First would be of course the vegetables and cereals (funny as it may sound). There are ample land and human resources. Let us look to that. 
Minimizing the imports and minimizing those Land Cruisers too. Respecting blue collar jobs. Of course the economy of the country is not strong right now, and it will never be if we ignore these signs.
The Utopian nation we are trying to create by ideologies like GNH and 'One nation,one people' is not going to thrive long if we are unable to sustain our hungry stomachs. Let not the easy life fool you. Rather work hard and be somebody and earn for your country.