Tshewang's Journal

Upon our arrival in Bhutan, Phuntsholing greeted us with open arms, beckoning us into a local restaurant where we indulged in a feast of Bhutanese delicacies, a long-awaited treat after a year of absence. The journey's dust made an impromptu visit to the restroom necessary before I could fully enjoy the meal. There, amidst the comforts of home cuisine, we reveled in dishes that spoke of familiarity and nostalgia, far removed from the Alu Parathas that had become our staple abroad. Our journey took a humorous turn upon reaching Gedu. My friend, known for his reserved nature, unexpectedly disrupted the silence with a loud fart, prompting an exchange of jests between us. His excuse? The fermented curd hadn't sat well with him. Little did I know, my own stomach would soon join this comical rebellion. Indeed, as we approached Tsimasham, my insides began their own uproarious laughter, compelling us to request an unscheduled stop. I silently prayed for anonymity in my discomfort, unwi...

Embarking on a journey from one of the world's second dirtiest cities to the familiar embrace of family and friends, I found myself reflecting on the uneven scales of life. It hadn't always been a ride of sheer joy or profound discovery for me. Yet, amidst the academic grind and the nocturnal battles with sleep, the sudden announcement of a delayed next semester exam felt like an unforeseen holiday blessing. It was an opportunity that hadn't crossed my mind until then, igniting a spark of anticipation for the break ahead. Our departure was marked by the reluctant farewell of the sun, setting the stage for a nocturnal voyage. The flight's smoothness was a stark contrast to the rough journeys of past, where constant jolts and the startling honks disrupted the quest for rest. The turbulence of wind against the slowing vehicle and the fluctuations in fuel levels added layers of discomfort to the ordeal. This was the reality of travel for those of us not privileged with the ...