SIGNS

(This poetry has been inspired by the numerous plans that has back fired in my life and to know that signs are everywhere, and I had been ignoring them. I am submitting myself to those signs and letting fate control whatever it has in store for me...once).

My ink ruined the parchment.

Of a beautiful story I planned.

The paintbrush on the canvas,

But I did not know and alas,

Heavens sent a downpour,

Spoils my dreams and nigh.

Would have been okay if I,

Took a shelter of any kind.

But a shelter I did not find.

The signs that deplore,

What is not meant to be,

Shall never end a happy.

And signs demand acknowledgement.

That only fate shall command.

                                                                                   peace-dr.Diksha

Liberation.

        I knew he was kind. And nice. He had been the quiet one always. And now he was talking to me. No he was chatting with me on Facebook.
       'Ummm hi,' was the first line.
       'Hiiiiiiiiiiii,' I replied happy to have met him online after four years.
        'You look absolutely hot.'
       'Ahh you have got to tell me something I don't know!'
       'You have changed a lot. Where is that uncouth little girl I knew?'
      'Argh trust me I just have changed my appearance but deep inside I am still the same old person.'
       'Oh!....'
       'I suppose I am talking to you now because I didn't have anything to say. I suppose I am talking to you now because your hotness is acting like a catalyst.' he added.
       'Oh.' I was a little disappointed. Thank god he was miles away from me and what my face bore he would never know.
       'Life is unpredictable. You would think I was totally crazy if I had told you that 8 years ago that I would be chatting with you all night.'
       'Why?' Now I was clueless.
       'I had always wanted to talk to you.But I never thought we would.'
      'We talked! You are confusing me. I mean we shared the same desk for nearly six months and we were in the same class for 2 years and to add we studied in the same school for many years!'
       'All we talked about was aeroplanes and missiles.'
       I grinned to it. He had a profound understanding in aeronautics and things that blasted. We would design on the desk and then he would always find flaws to my designs and correct it. It didn't make any sense to me but I was thoroughly impressed by it that one day I went to the library to find some books on aeroplanes but to no avail because the Thimphu library was in destitute paucity of such books. That always made me wonder how did he acquire all that in his head. I googled and then gave up and always relied on him to design planes and black birds as he called them.
        When I didn't reply, he asked me a question which I thought no one would ever ask me.
        'Why did you hate me so much?'
        I didn't hate him. I hated them. He was one of them. But I didn't hate him. Not to be too obscure or too obvious to answer I thought for a while and typed this, 'Your group was despicable.'
       'You are generalizing. I want to know why you hated me?'
        The question was uncalled for and I cringed. 'I didn't hate you.' I admitted.
       A blankness followed. I should not use the word silent for when one is chatting on the laptop one is generally silent. No words spoken. Only typed.
        'I always thought you had some issues.' he said after a while. I was on another page reading about Lockheed. I knew he would already know about what I was just reading.
       My face bore a wariness.  I had talked about my issues to everybody else after I had long graduated from high school. In fact I had talked about my issues to people I barely knew because it made me feel better. It made me heroic. I was that little person who grew up to be noticed by everybody and then I decided to open up. And I talked about it to everybody. How I conquered the world despite being troubled back in school. And gradually my stories seemed to exaggerate until it passed into mawkish sentimentality. By then it was too late. I had talked about it to most of the people I knew and I knew then I had to stop it immediately. Probably everyone now assumed I was a mendacious personality.
       Now I didn't know if I should proceed. My fingers gave in. 'I am not a lesbian in case if you are wondering.'
       'OK.' He replied in caps. I presumed he was terrified.
       'I was sick of all the taunting you guys put me through regarding my tomboy status and assuming that I slept with girls. It was the same everyday and I was so bored. I was fed up of the same old same old jokes about me'.  I didn't want to admit I was affected. I was not bored. I was hurt. It affected me a lot.
      'I know. I tried to stop them.'
       'You did?'
      'Yeah I know they went over board. It was terrible the everyday teasing and the fights. It was not even squabbles. I have always admired your will to stand up to them.'
      It caught me off guard. My mind went back to some seven or eight years ago. The memory still afresh in my head. He was next to me in our dark red uniform and we are drawing aeroplanes. And then the derogation came from the group of boys who sat behind me. The back benchers! It is a blessing to be taller than most of your classmates but it also made you prone to being placed at the back. My class teacher made me sit at the very back because I was the tall girl in my class. And that is when he and I had been desk mates. He was kind I knew the very first day he sat next to me. He was very popular. I had known about him ever since we were in lower school. But I never pictured him joining them. He was one of them. A part of their group who never took part in their groupism. It hit me then that he had never bullied me.
       'I didn't suffer from any inferiority complex but coming to school knowing it would be the same taunting all over was very depressing.' I wrote.
       'I am sorry you had to go through all that!'
It was real. It was genuine. I wanted to see his face then. A small smile crept on my lips and I sighed as soon as it had appeared because he would never know his apology made me happy.  All that I had grudged towards and waited for vengeance disappeared. And the troubling thing was he wasn't the culprit. It was his friends. So why did his apology mean so much?
       I made smiley faces and sent it to him. It appeared too loud. My smile at the moment was a silent one.
       'I am through with these issues now.' I told him.
       He sent me a smile.
       'I wish I had stood upto them. I wish I had noticed you more. You are so beautiful now. BUt you had always been cute and sweet even if my friends told you were downright ugly.'
       I smiled actually. And laughed. That was very candid. And I decided to be mean.
      'You didn't because you didn't want to condescend your popular boy image standing up for a lesbian like me.'
      'Ouch. Hot girls are mean girls.' he wrote.
      'I am not mean.'
      'I am glad how you turned out to be. You fought well and you won your battle.'
      'I still have plenty of battles to conquer. And as we speak of I battles I will have to conquer my books for now. I am sorry I have to leave now.'
      'Ok. Goodbye. And I would have still talked to you even if you were the same old little girl.'
       I closed all the tabs and switched off my laptop and headed towards the library with a large book smiling as I swung it from side to side. I felt free. Light as the lightest bird, probably a humming bird. I know then that I would stop talking about my stupid issues to others and that I would grow up without grudges.

                                                        dr. Diksha.

Of Loving The Wrong One.

You cornered my heart,
You cornered me as well.
My soul it was shaken
It left my bones and skin.
I changed then onward.
But to love you I was akin.
Left everything my heart once etched.
What had loving you to me fetched?

The passion burnt me and my desire.
My heart was warm, my soul on fire.
The heat destroyed me and me alone.
I knew better to cease my loving.
The affection and the day dreaming.
The people started to mourn
For the dying person I had become.
My iridescent sadness it outshone.
Outshone the love I had for you.
The sadness in me now pellucid.
With anger that could not be hid.
Anger was alive with myraids of emotions.
Red and blue and black and grey.

I leave you now. Regret will follow.
I have steeled my hear and barred my soul.
Eyes averted and nose away from you.
To a path of self discovery.

                                                                 pE@c3-dr. Diksha

Woods Academy.

(An attempt at short story writing. This piece focuses on Woods Academy, a godly adobe set by PAN to raise the spirits of Earth and how even the spirits are not devoid of emotions-positive or negative despite being far far away from humans. I have read too much of Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Greek Mythology. I respect Rick Riordan).


"The lesson for today ends now", Mrs. Terra announced. It had been a tiring day for the little grown up spirits of the earth for they had been learning the entire day about how the sun makes a brief drift over the earth and the processes that goes on with it namely photosynthesis. This had been a special class for special little dryad Cedar. She was the tree spirit. When she was born a beautiful tree had grown along with her. She was a part of it and the tree was her. She would perish if someone had the tree cut. But in the densest part of the Earth away from the humans where the God of Nature Pan had set grounds for this very particular academy there was absolutely no chance any humanly invasion. Everything was godly here, including the amorous visits by the nasty Olympians to the staffs of the academy. And they didn't bother at all about hiding in a secretive niche. But who am I to question the very Olympians.

Sure there were tens of hundreds of other tree or plant spirits there but Cedar had grown very beautifully. She would not admit it but it was her naiad friend Pearline who would visit her home regularly. She took her freshly water to her and then nurtured Cedar and when the sun would take its course across the sky Cedar would bask and giggle under its light and imagine Apollo riding a red-black blazing Mercedes. Wait, she had no idea what Mercedes meant but Pearline had found a floating strange looking assortment of paper made of wood drifted on her aquatic body and there they had a whiff of the humanly world with "Mercedes" that made them giggle with excitement before Mrs.Terra found those odd assortment of pages and had it to nothing but ashes by her faithful phoenix.  And Apollo was quiet the charmer. Cedar and Pearline had discussed this very information with many of their little grown up spirit friends and no one denied his attributes.

"Dismissed," Mrs. Terra announced curtly and they spirits began to drift away. Some to the earth, some to the water, some to their wooden adobes and some to their windly existence. Cedar and Pearline especially envied the wind spirits the Anemois. The wind spirits were indeed free spirited as their very existence. They were prone to fits of rage and tantrum for they weren't bound to a particular place. The entire world was theirs, as far as the atmosphere extended. Naiads weren't bound to a particular place either but once they left their places it was difficult for them to get back and so no one took a chance to forage the earth in search of lower grounds. 

With a weary gait they were proceeding that Skaya, the Anemoi appeared in front of Pearline and Cedar. "Hi, you look so...what's the word...gorgeous today Cedar." Skaya said. She meant it or did she just mock? She was often a difficult character to understand with her always away to create tempest in parts of the world. She was a cosmopolite  and not so much as Mrs. Terra had traveled as much as her. She was faster and swifter than other wind spirits and she was strong. With a strong tenacity for fury and windly destruction she was often a feared character. She never had her feet on the ground. Cedar blushed for she couldn't help it and uttered a "thanks" in a slurred tone. She wasn't intimidated by her of course. But especially now there were other spirits hovering around who heard the loud compliment. 

"I have to fly now. Perhaps I will gather news of your wooden leafy maids at the humanly earth and I can deliver messages," offered Skaya.

Cedar was confused. She didn't know anyone much so far away than her tree roots extended. "Ah, I know no one. You are so lucky you get to see the world the humanly one. How I wish I could, " she fumbled. 

"Well we did see a little bit of it and it had our inner energies gushing out That black blazing chariot I often dream Apollo riding upon, "admitted Cedar.

"Oh you mean cars," Skaya looked playful. "There are handsome mortals who ride it and I get to seep in through their lovely quiffs."

Other spirits were listening intently though they made no attempts to join the conversation with Skaya talking mostly but only to Cedar. But the others were listening. The news of the humanly world was beyond imagination the most excitable.

Pearline made an attempt to end the conversation as she was sure Skaya would continually ignore her no matter what the situation. "Mayhaps you should go to your worthy duties now and we have to leave too. The sun is setting."

The final bell for the day rang and they had to go to their respective houses. They were little grown up spirits that would one day be fully independent of the tiresome lessons of the academy and their jobs were to be themselves. Grow beautiful and look out for each other. Therefore why the need of an academy if the only task was to grow up. Often many lacked the very spirit of livelihood. The team work.

Cedar went in her bark and snuggled in. She felt her energy replenish. She grew along with her tree.

Something ran on her roots that made her wake up with a startle.

"Hey Cedar," it was a faint whisper. It was completely dark and the sky remained studded with thousands of those celestial bodies. Her favourite one being Cassiopeia constellation and would she ever be honoured as to have her place in the skies. Her wooden eyes weren't exactly keen at seeing in the dark. "Who is there?"

"It's me Myrtle right here," she sounded annoyed.

"Ok so why did you call me?"

"I heard Skaya. She loves you a lot," chided the other tree spirit. He voice sounded curt.

"I think she is a good wind spirit if no one intimidates her, " supposed the other.

"Well, the problem is she is the problem. Too much attitude in her. The other day Hazel and she got in a tussle and then Skaya got very violent that she nearly shook her roots out of the ground," she informed. "A scary sight it was. If it had not been for Mrs. Terra Hazel would be treeless by now and would have perished." She accounted.

"Oh," was all that escaped from her throat. No one had informed her that.

And something washed upon her. Pearline!

"Mind if I join?" Pearline grinned. She had left a trial of water behind her. 

"Oh Pearly we were just talking..." continued Cedar.

"About Skaya? Yes, she is indeed a boastful one that one. Must keep in mind to avoid her as much as possible," Pearline noted. 

"She has her head full of air," said a tiny voice. It was Chisel and the forthright mockery from this tiny dryad made the rest giggle.

And while they mocked of Skaya little did they know her windly spirit was floating around.

"Oh my, it's quiet a little party here. I am sorry for breaking this meeting. I hate you all," broke in Skaya who sounded not less than Zeus thunderbolt booming above them. She was indeed a fierce character perhaps just because she imposed onto others.
Silence lasted maybe for a split of a second and before Cedar could settle this uncomely overture Skaya bellowed and out came all of her Amenoi powers. A really hard tug of the wind and the trees were nearly upto its uprooting! 

Tiny Chisel was blown away and there gathered other spirits who were terrified to their most. Pearline made a splashy grab for Chisel which she missed and therefore in her fit of anger sprang towards the forces of wind. It made a terrible little storm, there was wind and rain not less than any hurricane and the combined force started sucking in everything in its path. Before Mrs. Terra appeared along with the God Pan, that satyr and immediately chanted something that stopped the hurricane abruptly sending in gashes of water and wind everywhere. Then the  spirits were just merely girls. Normal girls devoid of powers or any connections to the earth.

The satyr fumed. "What is the meaning of all these?"
Skaya was on the ground unlike her usual self floating everywhere and Pearline was next to her. Both of them were caked in mud.
His question went unanswered.
He sighed.
"I knew you spirits have a lot to learn but this leaves me completely disappointed in myself, in Woods Academy and mostly in all of you."
Skaya was near to tears. "They spoke of me behind my back."
"But have you yourself been nice enough to have not been spoken behind?" asked Pan.
Her eyes lowered and she felt water brimming in her eyes and it flowed. "I am not supposed to give out water from my eyes." She sobbed.

Pan came closer, his hooves clicking onto the ground. "Listen little spirit. You are powerful alone, but together you are all wonderful. Look at how mighty a hurricane you created with your friend Pearline. But ones powers musn't be misused. Think how wonderful it would be if you could carry your friend and then let it rain over the trees. It would flourish. Likewise with the trees flourishing it will always keep you clean and beautiful. We are all interconnected and this power has been bestowed to you for good."

Pearline and Skaya looked at each other and smiled. 'I am sorry," said them together. And hugged. Skaya stood up and faced all of the others and said, "I am sorry for how arrogant I have been so far. I  must make it up to all of you but it will take time. I hope you all will come to forgive me eventually."
Cedar came and hugged her. "You are forgiven."

Afterwards they all settled down and learnt the spirit of teamwork at the very Woods Academy and if they worked hard enough some of them would get to go to CAMP HALF BLOOD with Percy Jackson!
And with that the story ends. 

Blah blah blah.

                                                                pE@ce-dr.Diksha

Angry for what reason.

(Expressing my anger and frustration. Maybe someday I would write a poem that genuinely ignites the pain of anger to my readers, not that I write so well).

Pernicious heart yield lethal results

The poison in me has spread.

Awakens the deadliest of the cult

(Of course its all in my head)

And even though its all the play of my brain

And I can absolutely control what I think

But never what I feel and so I maintain

This growing anger that doesn't shrink.

It is fed with the on-going confusion.

Many a times I find myself slow

I try to work, to play, to reason.

It's just that I keep falling down below.

The toxicity that poisons me has spread

I am no longer myself I am lethal.

The longer the feel stays in my head

It cripples my heart and apocryphal.

The burden doesn't go it has excoriated me.

                                                               pE@c3-dr.Diksha.

Being the man she wanted.

The blue hair gel was container was nearly empty but he kept squeezing out more. His hair was not like what he wanted. Not like what she wanted. She had said spikes, not so prominent but visible enough "to give a boyish and a manly look at the same time". He wanted to be good enough for her.

Today he would show her he could be authoritative. He would no longer be a "follower who waits for his leader to lead by" anymore. After several shapings, he picked his nearly empty perfume spray. It was old but it smelled still the same and he sprayed it carefully not to let its vapor evaporate away from his body. Wasting was not an option for him.

It was a beautiful morning and he had his friends waiting for him at the casualty. His friends giggled upon seeing him. 

"This is a hospital and not a fashion show dude" said that boy with large spectacles.

He blushed,  "I bathed twice this morning. Maybe that's why I appear nice today."

The other boy prodded his spikes and said, "Oh so you get spikes on bathing more than once huh?"

They laughed and he felt slightly uncomfortable but their gathering was short lived. There were sick people everywhere in no time and his spikes outshone everything else. The nurse eyed him suspiciously. The spikes were no threat but his new attitude was. He was rushing forward pushing everyone behind to do something, anything. The problem was he wasn't behaving a medical student today. He was a doctor. He was a Leader.

She came in to the sickly ward with a pallid face as always. He stood there like a tall monument and he was storming. He appeared fierce and mighty while he ordered a nurse so many times his senior. She loved that man. She had finally got that man out of this nerdy little boy.

She didn't notice a hoard of angry nurses. She didn't even see his friends who appeared "too uncool all the time". Their eyes met and all she saw was a lion ruling his territory. He loved her dearly and how very pretty she was and he was sure he made that impact because her eyes were dreamy and smiling. He saw her real smile which was a very rare sight indeed. This filled him with pride and he thought he must be doing right whatever madness he fallen into.

Lunchtime it was and he had never experienced the passage of four hours in what felt like a few minutes. This manly transformation sure was dramatic as well as fun.

They were to eat lunch together at the college cafeteria. They always dined there and he had lessons there on being a gregarious person. First it's "the appearance, the style and everything else comes later" she had taught him.

But today he lead her to their table. And then he started to gobbledegook about his victory over the nurses and his superior medical knowledge, a smart nerd he was few hours ago now transformed into an unknown and unpleasant bloke. 

And he just wouldn't stop his gobbledegook for she had told him "an interesting person uses smart words at right places and will tell his interesting anecdotes of the day". How could one change so much in such a short span of time? She was thrilled and didn't seem to miss that little boy who had loved her so much. Now that he was a "man" did he still all the same worship her?

At the end of the day when he came back to his hostel room he was completely famished. Boy! Being a "man" surely took up a lot of energy. And he looked at his empty gel container and went to ask his friends if any one of them had gel left for tomorrow he needed to be what she wanted too.

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.

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).

Bruno the Wonderful Dog.

I discovered Scribd and here is my first post with the scribd embedding. This is a poem about my pet dog Bruno and I have to be honest, the poem is not excellent in its language though in its content it is very rich. Happy reading. (The poem is not too long so take a look).

Bruno