I wrote a note in a coat

I refrain
from pain
to be sane

I laugh
just half
to laugh the other half

I sing
to ring
tring tring

I fly
to flee
in glee

I sit
on seat
to eat

I pray
to stray
every day

I think
to brink
and sink

I sank
in a tank
that rank

I drank
and drank
got drunk!

Anju

You are eighteen today,
I was five when you were born.
I have held you as a baby,
seen you grow up to a beautiful teenager.
We have fought and quarrled and belittled each other,
but despite all I love you and I know you feel the same.
Common blood binds us and common ancestors combine us,
common roots connect us.
We are sisters, two branches of the same tree.

You will soon embark to see the world,
a world of much people, ideas, spaces and places,
of much death from history and hope from technology,
of much destruction, evil and love,
of much self disvovery and recovery,
of much exploration and adventure,
all I can say is enjoy it, savour it,
for they are all yours,
live it and love it,
for they are all become memories.

Have fun.
Follow your heart and you will be fine,
live like yourself and you will be you,
on a dark night when you do not know what to do,
read my poem and know that I love you,
I am always there for you.

Happy Birthday, enjoy your last birthday home.

Mindfullness

Let me share a secret
that everyone knows.

Happiness comes from being happy.
Being happy comes from being content,
content comes from appreciation,
appretiation comes from compassion
compassion comes from love

Awareness and thankfullness for moments
live in 'here and now'
don't make it then or when
enjoy the water in the tap, the food in the shelves,
the clothes on yourself,
enjoy enjoyment
joyfully
happily

Future you can't predict so why try?
past you can't erase so why brood?
Now is what you have, live it.
Mindfully love it.

Loosing the Human Touch

I walk in, pick up a basket and start throwing in groceries. It is a typical supermarket, brightly lit to accentuate the colourful items decoratively collectedly from countys and countries; French salad potatoes to African Fruits to Indian spices to fish and meat. I throw in more things, cheese, juice, milk, and every vegetable you can make datshi with. Infact I have discovered a new way of fast food, with the datshi drop in some rice as well, there comes your Bhutanese quickmeal.

I then wonder who grew these food items, what must their life be like, where, how did they fare from the deal, were they cheated, who makes money out this item that I buy, are we destroying the environment by buying food? Is that why we need to buy certified environmental friendly items? Cetification in most cases are a scam in itself so who do we trust? Is it an ethically produced item, ethically advertised and marketed?

I scan all that I need, I look around and see children chauffered by their parents in prams, calorie conscious people looking for no/low fat foods, no one talks to each other, for gods sake it's a SUPER market not an area of social interaction.

How recent is this supermarket phenomenon? How long ago was it that people went out to the local markets to buy necessities of survival, man on man? And I am shaken from my reverie of supermarket thoughts when I reach the queue. Everyone queues here, no one cuts lines or no one pushes, it's a calm queing process, of moving like ants, I must say I enjoy it. It gives me all the more time to look at people, what they have bought and what they are wearing or how they behave. I see some scratching themselves, some dazed, some listening to music and some simply in a hurry. I know nothing about any of them, I never see the same one in the queue again. I never know the man or woman behind the cashier is like - like I do when I buy things in India or Bhutan. The bill shows on the screen, he/she utters a number and a debit card swap, deal done. Some say have a good day or thank you, some are just disgruntled, I say thank you and leave.

I miss those bhaiyas and didis who had not even have calculators and who were open to bargain and talk and who had fresh food! I miss those amas and apas and agays who would chew doma and calmly give me my needs at the same time turning their prayer wheels or beads.I miss the humaness, the genuineness of a smile and conversations that made buying a process so interactive and an interesting experience.

What have we have done to ourselves? I just see silence, silence that seperates the human from the human and makes a computer or an ipod more personal than a person itself. I miss those bus conductors who would smoke biris and talk to you, narrate you stories.

Life is all about stories in the end, is it not?

I see the developing countries now marching the trend of supermarkets- in every field, that too with great pace,hurry and surity.

Is it just me who is emotional?