And the world’s going to know your name!

 

My nephew, Yoeuhuang
 

What can Y actually mean? This question intrigued me for quite a while. It all started when my eldest sister had her first baby. I mean her only one so far. I was curious to know his name from the very beginning. My first question after her delivery was concerning his name. She winked and said it was already decided. To sustain my curiosity she just left with Y. “It starts with Y,” was the mystery for a dumber like me. I was restless because the only words that came in my mind were ‘You, Yourself, Yesterday, Yeller, Yeti, etc….

It was unfair on my nephew’s part because all sorts of selfish words were related to it. True to be me, I stormed in and demanded to end the mystery. She smiled and whispered, “YOEUHUANG.” For a moment I couldn’t move. “YOEUHUANG?”…. a word meaning ‘Prince Charming’ in Subba, our dialect. I was left with lopsided grin. That little boy chuckled as he sucked his mother’s milk.

Suddenly, the letter Y took a new perspective in my life. Maybe Y could be ‘Yours, Young forever, Yummy….’ We always take things our way and build up notion on anybody or anything. We exaggerate little things and think it as the only way but most often it’s in waiting and taking the other way round that can make us see the better things in life.

 

Life has lots of gifts and purposes. Who knows if I had not known Yoeuhuang- my nephew, my perspective on Y would have never changed.

Although I regret for not having been to write good essays with better Y words but nevertheless, I do now. A popular adage has it that “You maybe late but never too late for anything.” I look at my cute nephew’s picture and all I can say about Y is ‘Yield, yearn, youthful and Yippee....’ and many more.

Unfolding Mystery….Worth it or Earn it!

I don’t know how my life will take the shape. And I never want to know. I was not meant to be like this. I was a kind of child who was so ambitious. Yes, of course still I am today but the perception has been little misdirected. Time has changed everything. The perception that I used to have has been wear and tear. I cannot retain it. Time has made me weary.

Life is so unreliable and cruel. Difficulties don’t come when we are willing to face it. But it comes when we are unaware of it. My father got brain stroke in the year 2009 and he got paralysed. It was during my examination. I was writing my class IX examination. The incident made me numb. My family were all dejected, especially my mother. Her better half was lying on the bed, half dead. I was sad and gloomy.

Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I misunderstood the lesson of life. I want to take things for granted. Now I know and I am confirmed that life is not trustworthy, I don’t plan for the next moment. If I do so, I know that untrustworthy will overspill me and I will be miserable. I don’t want that. Within me, I make sure that I adore the very moment and live to fullest.

I am inspired by my father and his strength of mind. He is still half paralysed. His right hand and right leg is distressed and do not listen to his brain. They are devoid of life. But he has hope that someday they will be thriving. At least, a little. I wish his hope be contented. But I know, this will not happen and he does so. My mother does each and every ritual in a hope that someday her better half will get well. I know she is tired. But she never sighs. Their love is wonder.

At different point, perception takes different direction. I used to think that life is a fairy tale. The ending is always happy but I was flawed. Reality does not contain fantasy. I remind myself that everything has a purpose in life. We are the one to discover it either positively or negatively.

It is not that I am mad with my life. I love my life and people who are part of me. I want them by me all my life. It is not possible, I know. I am worn-out and exhausted thinking my wishes never get fulfilled. Life isn’t so easy. You just don’t worth it, you earn it.

Annoyed Eyelids

 

Some nights I can’t sleep. People say that we can’t sleep when we are in love just because we feel that reality is much beautiful than dream. Not in my case. Actually, love is not in my case. Night mares come. I try my hard to sleep but my eyes don’t listen to my mind. The war between my eyes and mind continues. But the mystery never gets end. I miss my mother. I miss her warmth. While I was with her, I used to curl up in her arms and she would hold me tight. My favourite place where I get world’s best sleep is my mother’s arms. I can still smell her body’s odour and I love it.

I am far away from my home. My mother is not with me. Sleep does not come to me. My eyes wide open though my mind tries to take rest. I think of stacks of things. Social networks have made the world smaller. We have cell phones. I think of calling my mother at the middle of the night but I stop myself. I know she is having sound sleep after her hard diurnal chores. I think of her and try to sleep but still my eyes do not agree.

I can still remember my father stroking my hair whole night just to make me sleep when my mother was out of home. My father used to tell me stories of mighty prince which I now know as lord Rama. I would sleep happily rejoicing the mighty prince’s victory over evil. My father used to cover me with the blanket and switch the light off. I knew making me sleep was a troublesome job for him but still he did. The warmth, the love that he has for me overweighed everything. Just to make me have sound sleep, he would be awake all night. The old memories do not satisfy my eyes. My eyes still does not want to take rest.

After recollecting so many memories still, my eyes wide open. I try to reach my hand to the table to catch hold of my cell phone. The sound bothers my roommate. She wakes and asks me why I am still up and I just give her a lopsided grin. She forces me to sleep but in vain. I know she gets wound up because it has become routine but still my eyes do not understand that. It does not want to close. My friend gets into her fantasy world again. I order my eyelids to hug each other. They do not listen to me. It feels like my eyelids are annoyed with each other because they do not want to touch each other. I turn left and right but still no sign of closing my eyes.

I peep through the curtains, the soft rays of dawn touches my eyes. I gaze at it for long time and the energetic rays of sun warms up my face. It is already morning. Another night, without sleep.

 

 

The Craze For Education.....

I am the youngest in my family. And I was the last one to go to school. From the very young age, I always wanted to go to school. I have seen my brothers and sisters going to school from the very beginning of my childhood. I always had a dream of going to school with them. Every morning, I would sit beside my mother and watch her dress them up. In that blue uniform, my siblings would look very neat and tidy. Seeing them wear, I would dream of wearing that blue uniform. After they have left for school, I would linger around my mother nagging, to dress me up too. My mother is illiterate but she knows what education means. She never denied when I asked her to dress me up. She with lots of love, would dress me up and for rest of the day, I would play happily with my toys. I would scribble anything that came to my mind. I would scribble on my bed room wall. I would get satisfaction seeing that I have written so many things.

Every evening, I could hear my siblings shout something. They would be memorizing at top of their voice. Silently I would also repeat the same thing after them. After they were done, I would go to them and shout the same. Undoubtedly, I could pour out everything that was in the Dzongkha book of class II. They would chase me. My father used to teach me how to read and write. I used to run to my mother after I am done and show her my writings. She would look at it and would fondle my hair and smile. I would be so contented and would go to bed murmuring the memorized sentences.

I got admission in school in the year 2000, when I was six years old. I was the happiest person but to be frank, my mother was more than me. I could see tears in her eyes but still smiling for me. My family was happy for me. I started going to school. It was like my dream come true. Now, my mother used to dress me up- the blue uniform that I used to dream of wearing. I would look into the mirror and smile. For me, going to school was like more than anything.

I was very good in studies. My entire teacher used to appreciate me. I used to stay late night writing my home works. There was no one to help me. My siblings were far away from home. They were in their college. My father would be out for site. No one was there to help me out with my works. But my mother always stood beside me. She would stay late night with me besides her tiring day chores. She used to tell the names of animals in our local dialect and I used to translate it in either English or Dzongkha. I used to cry for not finishing my works and she used to console me with lots of love. She would look at me and smile. I would get that satisfaction and would again continue my work. My mother would sit beside me and watch until I am done. She would wake me early morning and make me study. My craze for education amplified with my mother’s sacrifices. I wanted to do something for my mother. I don’t want her sacrifices to go in vain.

I got my education and still I am with it. I know everyone- my father and my siblings are happy for me but I want my mother to be the most. It is said that, “What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.” So, I remember how my father used to teach me, how my siblings helped me out with my obstacles but more than anything, I remember my mother’s sacrifices- her sleepless nights, contentment and her love.

More than me, my mother has the craze for education. Now, at least she can read and identify the numbers. I am glad that because of my craze, my mother could help out with herself in this materialistic world.

There are always bigger and better things available...

 

I am Kuch Kumari Subba. Born on 29^th_March, 1994. I am a kind of girl who loves to talk, argue and wants to be always happy. And yes, I am always happy and smiling. Always being with my parents, I never questioned myself about anything. At times, I was unable to overcome my obstacles and at times, I was on the top. Still, I never recognized my potential.

Till my high school, I had the notion that happiness is at home being with my parents but as I entered the university, the notion that I had, I found was not so promising. I never questioned myself about what I want to be and who am I? As I finished my high school, the questions “WHO AM I?” and “WHERE I WANT TO SEE MYSELF AFTER FEW YEARS?” patted my mind. At that very moment, I was confused. Then after, I realized where I want to be and who am I?

 

One must have chaos with oneself to give birth to a star and within me, I found that I always wanted to explore things, communicate with people and disseminate information. I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to grab every opportunity that comes my way. And finally, I got my way. By choosing media studies, I can accomplish my passion. I can communicate as well as explore. And this will always be an on-going process. There are always bigger and better things available.