Tshewang's Journal

Dhaka is a city that pulsates with relentless activity. It's not merely busy—it's a tempest of motion, where the ceaseless cavalcade of vehicles creates a tableau of urban struggle. The city's streets, ensnared in perpetual congestion, transform what should be a brief journey of fifteen minutes into an odyssey stretching over hours. This congestion is not just a matter of inconvenience; it's a vivid illustration of the city's grappling with its own growth and infrastructure challenges. The public transport system, stretched beyond its capacity, fails to provide a reliable solution for its inhabitants. Coupled with a scarcity of stringent traffic regulations and the uncontrolled flood of imported used vehicles, the city's roads are more than just crowded—they are a vivid display of the complexities of urban development gone awry. Caught in this daily turmoil, I write these lines. Stranded for hours in the snarls of traffic, the frustration and idle time bred insp...

The incessant buzz of life, much like the unyielding clamor of Call of Duty, pervades without pause, accompanied by the ghostly visage of a spectral lady haunting the peripheries of consciousness. Life unfurls its mysteries at depths we scarcely comprehend, relentless in its momentum, untouched by our desires or the fleeting grasp of control. The grandiloquent promises of politicians, their eloquence and statesmanship, offer little solace, mirroring the ephemeral allure of an amateur's melody. We find ourselves adrift, like fading zephyrs, grappling with the paradox of giving more than we receive in an endless cycle fueled by insatiable greed. The stage is set, awaiting our performance in this grand spectacle of existence. The narrative takes unexpected turns, presenting incongruities that defy conventional wisdom—a monk indulging in tobacco, a corrupt politician, a biased journalist, and the aloofness of societal elites. These figures challenge the boundaries of expectation and tr...

So it's true! That I didn't learn until late that 'village people are the real practitioner of values and town people only prattle of it'. Fun it was, as it should have been, on a tour to remote Bangladesh with classmates for Clinical Out reach trip. The cry was pretty fowl as rather we found ourselves standing in front of the camera tow so often. The hundreds of acres of tea garden are mesmerizing! The pound with croaks of frogs makes sleep an expensive affair! Well, croaks are no visuals but a displeasing aura! The visual beauty  is the lone moon giving it's blissful rays over the giant silents plains! In the mood oft; a train whistles it's truncated blow; through the plains of  eternal extension it sways; of meandering yet straightened; on sunken hills a far! Hundreds alike in odd hours! Travel is an inevitable facet of life. But that didn't scared me. On a high up in sky was the vastness of sky, with a glittering forage of busing stars. The Capricorn ...

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 ...

Beneath the moon's soft glow, a vision did unfold, A mouse, not grey, but azure, brave and bold. It danced across the mended, darkened floor, With eyes like pearls, it stole my gaze once more. A whirlwind blue, it scurried to my bed, Where flat I lay, in slumber's depths instead. Curled tight, it seemed a demon in disguise, Panting softly, moonlight in its eyes. Beside it, bathed in shadows deep and cool, My black cat slumbered, unaware of the jewel. With pouncing grace, a hunter's instinct stirred, Oh, the fragile beauty of the mouse unheard. Terror sparked, a flight of turquoise wings, Bones like coral, where the moonlit ocean clings. A phantom ship emerged from shadows near, Carrying the mouse away, dispelling fear. But in the cat's dark eyes, a reflection shone, The pearl-light glimmer, claiming it his own. No conscience questioned, nature's call obeyed, The blue mouse vanished, in the hunt's cascade. I stirred awake, and gently pushed away My white sheet, f...

After a rejuvenating two-month hiatus, I've returned to Dhaka to continue my undergraduate journey, marking this as my first post since my arrival five months ago. The solitude sometimes prompts me to question the decision-making of the scholarship division for not pairing me with fellow students in this alien environment. Dhaka, with its unchanging landscape, dusty air, relentless traffic, and the seemingly perpetual construction of an underground pipeline, feels as unfamiliar as ever. The city's streets, filled with the same beggars reaching out to strangers and cars honking incessantly, starkly contrast the quieter, more orderly streets of Thimphu. Despite the chaos, I've found a warmth in the Bangladeshi people that's undeniably genuine. If the quality of friendship were measurable, the locals here would undoubtedly score high. Yet, the language barrier presents a unique challenge, with my limited Bangla and their struggle with English creating a comedic yet frustra...

In azure sky of prophetic Yangchenphug Those nasty rascals around me Sharing their own memoirs of goodness And their charm of life, are: Contemplative Bumthanp,Samten Wangchuk And dawning Ap Sha, Magic Pencil, Reflective Ngalop Rin Penjor And a glancing dude Dechen Wangchuk Forget not to mention our Chettala, Nagay Dorji The life through which I gallop Play by them, a part not minor And in freedom walk I in nature’s bounty For it is life worth to live with these Rascals A glimpse at the drifting lives of ours, Memoirs a lot, but a part do I share:           An angry face of Bumthap in a fight of friendship’s woe     Yawning for share of women’s love an excited Phub, Magic Pencil Private Property, to which he is sworn to, is a face of Dechen, And a lapse of jokes on his fa...

The wit of human nature doesn't comes to an end. Not especially when one is tied his upper jaw with lower jaw and cannot eat anything except liquid juices. The god -given nature of human faces are fragile. we are given with five scenes to take care of these fragile creation by the god. But there are times when  often one gets into an intimate nature of friendship and doesn't know his limitations to jokes. The pain i have had was really hard. It may seem funny to narrate whole incidences, but i admit that it is worth sharing since i have learnt a lesson. It has been two days since i have had inter dental wiring cast within my mouth. I can neither eat nor talk properly with my friends as my upper teeth and lower teeth are perfectly immobilized, kept in same place to fix my jaw fracture. I missed Ema Dhatse, I missed my favorite steam of Broccoli, i missed rice and i missed sandwiches. Nevertheless i am lucky to feel that i ...

Wearied but awake Tshewang wipes away the sleep from his glazed eyes and his world comes into focus. It is not really his world, but rather the one which he is encompassed by after his wandering from Tashi Yangtse has finally come to a close. After several months in an alien environment, he comes to terms with everyday life of Yangchenphug, almost. Each day after waking up, freshening up, washing and having something slight to eat, he faces an academic world-a world which is still developing in his mind. How long will it take for this man to be a member of Yangchenphug, rather than a tress passer?? The nightmares help; they partially blind the deep sleep as the book is first opened in the lighted room. No matter how dark the tint he sees the differences everywhere each day which his eastern school days made incomprehensible to him. A five to ten minutes drive and finally he arrives at his place of academic world. Entering the gate he walks to class with his friends. What will ha...