Saturday, December 7, 2013

My Little Girl is Two

Here is the pictures of my princess's birthday. It was a small celebration but Jamba really had a good time. I bought a white dress for her because I wanted her to be the brightest.



Oh, we forgot to take the picture of the cake. It had the images of one of her favorite charactesr Upse Daisy and Makka Pakka. :) 


Thanks to all the friends who made the day special for her. 

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Why Mothers are hard workers

I wanted to write about “why mothers are hard workers” before but only today I could actually pen it down. By this statement, I don’t mean to say that others, who are not mothers, are not hard workers. Neither did I do any kind of research nor did I compare myself with others. It is based purely on me, before and after becoming a mother.
There is no denying that a woman’s responsibilities get huge after becoming a parent. Of course a father’s responsibilities increases depending on the kind of person he is. (I am thankful that my husband takes his responsibilities very whole heartedly).
It is amazing how little 24 hours is and yet how much we do in that 24 hours. My typical day starts with my daughter and ends with my daughter and in between I do a whole lot of things. It includes, cooking, washing, cleaning, studying, assignments and going to the University. Most people fear how it would be like to be a mother and a student but to be honest it is not that messy as we imagine. If you can’t believe, my exam results are way better than last semester’s when my daughter was not with me. I must say I am a proud mother and if my mother was still alive I am sure she would stand proud as well.

What I believe and I always tell my husband is that I do things more efficiently when my family is with me. I don’t postpone work because I know I have to have a quality time with my family. By which I mean, when I study, I really do study. Same with other work too. I guess I manage time properly now than I used to before. I have completed my assignments on time and never missed my meetings. Of course there were a lot of efforts my other half as well. Without him, I would be a hopeless mother and a lousy student. And I am a hard worker and I believe every mother is.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Reflecting Back

It has been four years since my father passed away though it seems like ages since he left us.I always believed that he trusted me too much to have left such a huge responsibility on me. He passed away seven months after I started working. He has been really sick for a long time and he held on to us because if he was gone, there was none to look after us. Though my father had a son like brother in-law, he never visited us after his graduation and I am sure my father never believed that he would be taking care of us. Though I always thought he should have been there for us, always, I now think my father was actually right. We have no right to have such an expectation from whosoever. That is yet another story and no matter how long the time passes away, I will never forget this sad story of my late father.

My father spoke very few words and through his silence I always got the message that I have to take care of my five siblings. And I am proud to say that I have tried my level best to be the best sister, though I might have failed in many instances. I have tried to be an adviser, a role model and  a friend. It was difficult for me but I must say I am lucky to have my brothers and sisters who knew my responsibilities and always respected for who I am. And I always believed that I must have done something good in my past life to have found my life partner. He is my best friend and if it was not for him, I would be still struggling alone.

Friday, June 28, 2013

Hopeful Mother

I have been going through the bumpy road since the day I flew to Melbourne from Bangkok. I was pretty geared up for this but somehow I really couldn’t make myself understand why I am doing such a terrible thing to my family and myself. I think sometimes we are really not ready to accept the things even when is obvious.
Being a mother to barely a two year old daughter, I always have and will hate the part of leaving her back home with her father while I come here to enjoy the freedom of so called pursing masters. But believe me, I am always guilty and the last thing that I want to hear is someone saying that I don’t care for my daughter. I know it is apparently true; otherwise I wouldn’t be leaving her at the first place. And knowing what I did for her, I am still not able to accept the fact that I might not have cared for her, because I always think about how things could have turned the right way. When I see a little girl talking to her mom in a public transport, I think about her. When I hear a baby’s cry, I think about her. When I see pictures of babies on “Am I Cute” page in Facebook, I think about her.  When I read the blog by Beth on http://putdowntheurinalcake.com, I think about her. Oh, how much I miss her and yet I cannot do anything. The least I can do is skype with her but she gets easily bored. Perhaps she doesn’t remember me at all now. And that is the punishment for me and I deserve it.  

But I am not a timid mother or woman, for that matter, to drown myself in sorrows and self-pity. I am an optimist and I always believed in silver lining in the dark clouds, the rescue by the charming prince, and in that sappy saying that the good thing about bad stuffs is that it comes to an end too.  I may have felt like punching myself for what I did, but I always end my day with a hope that  I can also be a better mother. I will just have to prove it to myself. 

Friday, June 7, 2013

Crazy Things During Exam Time

I have posted this question on my Facebook status: What is the craziest thing you do during your exam preparation time? Because I always have this weirdest ideas of having to do so many things on this particular period. I look forward to taking a break from the study time and spend time on those things. Things like I am doing it right now. Like blogging is more important than studying at this hour. Or things like watching Michele Phan's videos on makeup tutorials. For god sake, I don't even do make up. Or or watch the top 100 billboard from last week. Or watch news,  I hardly have time for that when I am free.

Lately I am obsessed with the itch to clean my house because suddenly it is screaming for my attention. Hopefully, this feeling wont go away once my exams are over. Excitedly waiting for the exams to be over. Believe it or not, I am still feeling like a high school girl only this time I have a god sent husband and a beautiful daughter by my side. Smile.
   

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Introducing my Husband

Here I am going to write about my husband Sonam Tashi and his life before our marriage. Our life together is altogether another long story. I wanted to write this like an autobiography, but I will never be able to do justice to my husband and his life with my standard of English and my amateur writing skills. I am writing this so that when our daughter grows up and have her own kids; she will have so many stories to pass on to them about us.

Sonam Tashi is from Themnangbi, Mongar. His father was from Ngatsang, Mongar. His mother passed away when he was very little and his father passed away soon after we decided to live together. His mother died of blood cancer and his little brother was still breastfeeding her. I can totally relate to what was going through them after the demise of his mother because we lost our mother when we were little too and my little sister was just born. Anyway, his mother, Tashi Tshomo, was well known for her super-fast skills at doing works and everyone would wait for her to start the harvest because everyone believed that she brought good luck to the village. I always listen to my husband telling how she would weave a set of Gho for her brothers on the night before their departure to schools. She really was a super woman. And every time I listen to this story, I literally have to fight back my tears because I can feel so much pain in his eyes.  She suffered so much pain because of this treacherous disease. She could not recover even after she was refered to big hospitals in Kolkata. But every good person dies at young age because it is said that good people are needed in heaven by god <br>.

So, since his village was little far from the nearest school and there wasn’t any boarding or residential facility that time, he and his brothers (Darjay and Sheru, both younger to him) had to build a small hut near the school, known as Gorbaktang, to be able to study. The hut was built on the property of Meme Kabula. The man was kind indeed to have done such a favour. Sonam Tashi is still thankful for his kindness and last time when he met him, he didn’t have anything to offer him so he took off his Gho and presented him. Later I heard Meme Kabula fondly likes to talk about his act of kindness again and again.

Well, education wise, it was very difficult for them because they had to cook their meals using wet firewood and all of them were too young to take care of themselves. His grandmother, who he fondly calls Ama, had asked his paternal aunt to take care of them. Oh wait, they at first stayed with his aunt but later moved out because they felt it was better that way. So, I was saying it was very difficult for them to cook that sometimes they would eat half cooked rice so that they get to school on time. I am sure Sheru will have his own version of story and I am not sure if Darjay will remember anything. Once in a while, they would go to FCB and buy the cheapest rice and change their regular meal from Kharang to white rice. It was a luxury that they couldn’t afford every day. When they had enough ration, he would cook the lunch as well with breakfast but unfortunately hungry dogs would steal their precious lunch sometimes because it was easy for the dogs to break into their little home. He skipped lunch till he got admitted in Mongar high school in 2000.

Sometimes he would go home at Themnangbi to get ration after school and come back the morning to reach their little hut to be able to cook and serve to his brothers. And imagine with wet woods. I am starting to dislike Shing Yenglu. During the weekend, he would again go home to get ration but he would play and swim in Gangola River on the way and exhaust all his energy. When he reaches home, he would be very angry when there was no food in the kitchen. He recalls his stupidity because everyone at home to be at work. His meme likes to call him Uthuma because he would extend his arms and drag down the corn plants on his way out.

One day there was a football tournament and his captain wanted him to play no matter what. He insisted that he didn’t want to because he didn’t have shorts to wear for the match and obviously he didn’t tell that to his captain. So, he had to buy a shorts and that was the first half pant cum underwear he ever wore and that became his favorites. I can see the warm smile when he recalls. So after he did his exams in eighth grade, he worked as a part time labour for road construction. I don’t remember the place. He kept on thinking how much they suffered while studying and decided to not continue his studies and rather run away with the Truck Driver as his helper after the road work was done. He and his team mates had to work under a scorching sun that it gave them intense sun burns which he fully recovered after two years. During meal time (thank god, meal was served), he would be the first to eat and he ate so fast that he could join the line again for his second share. He still finishes eating his meal so fast and when I asked him once about it, he told me this story.

His results were declared when he was still working at the road construction. He topped his batch from his school and it was such a proud moment for him that it gave him inspiration and motivation to study again. So that’s when and how he landed up in Mongar High School. School was fun then because the food provided was enough to fill him up and regular lunch was served. Before you start judging him, I must mention that his family were and is a well off at Themnangbi. It was at school that he and his brothers suffered because there was no transportation to transport the ration and whatever little they brought with them didn’t last much.  And no one needs to be told that money was a scarce during that time and I am sure it is still at some villages.

I will continue the story next time.


                                                                                                                                  

Friday, May 31, 2013

Scary Reality

Quite recently my housemate's nephew was lost in Damthang, Haa. He was just about 5 years and found to be nowhere when his mother came back from picking firewood. The father of the family works in the armed force and has to be away for his duty most of the time. It was quite strange of him to go anywhere since he was not a type of kid who would go out and play. After days of searching him, he was found dead near a small river. Surprisingly, the search group have been in that spot before. It was a pity that they didn't see him there before. 

I have heard of a vague stories of "Tromchoe" before but never ever have I imagined that it actually happened in reality. People are taken away without his or her own knowledge. Some are released after few days or weeks, but rarely survives. I get goosebumps even when i write it. I will narrate the stories told to me.
There was son who was very pampered by his parents because he was the only child in the family. He was loved dearly by his mother and father. When he graduated from RIHS as a health assistant, he was placed in Sakteng, a lovely place in East. Since it was his first placement of his work, his father accompanied him since there wasn't road during those days. While the father and son walked along the foot path, suddenly the son ran without saying anything. His father called him back but he sped fast and within few minutes the father lost the son. He was nowhere to be seen but little further the father saw only the clothes of the son. People searched for him for days and weeks but no one found him. When the parents sought help from the Oracle to predict what actually happened, they were said that the boy saw a bull chasing him and he had to run. 
Some people say they sometime see him in forest, all of his body covered with moss and he hides when he sees people. 

Isn't it strange and scary? This story is haunting me. What is this or who is this? A big question mark???

Sunday, May 5, 2013

The Storm is finally coming to an End.



The worst days are coming to an end soon. The best thing about this storm is that we learnt how difficult it is to stay away from each other. Our love grew stronger and we knew that we can’t live without the presence of each other. There was never a day when I didn’t cry thinking about my family back at home. The simple thing in life brought tears in my eyes, the simple writings touched me and the quotes on life seem very true to our life. The lyrics of songs made more sense and feel that some of the songs are just made for us.  When I see so many people around me, I feel I am the unhappy one. I feel lonely most of the time having to wander alone amongst the midst of strangers. It is like a darkness has befallen on me. I wonder sometimes, is this some kind of hell? Because hell can be anywhere. I feel more sad when I think of death and the little time we have with us and we are already living apart. I don’t want our daughter to feel the absence of me or her father. I regret having induced such kind of situation in our life. But as days pass, I keep my fingers crossed and keep on counting days for my reunion with my family. 

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Cultural Shock??

Source: google.com (can be seen in Melbourne)


Source: google.com (seen in Bhutan)
I really did get a cultural shock when I first came to Melbourne. Everything looked so different from what I have seen and been to. I have never been out of my home country for more than 3 weeks. 3 weeks is just enough to have explored new places, tried new things and just you are starting to miss your home, you are back in town. Departing to Melbourne has been toughest for me especially because this was my first separation after the birth of my beautiful daughter. Well, that is another long story altogether, perhaps one day I will post about my two years stay at home with my daughter.
Coming back to the point, back in home, I am so used to seeing elderly people chanting Baza guru near the Chorten that I really get surprised when I see people at similar age group going shopping and doing some transactions in the bank. I am not used to leaving a baby in a pram and not pay any attention even when she/he wails. I am not used to sitting across each other in a bus and pretend you don’t care about others. I am not used to people asking me ‘how are you?’ and not waiting for my response. Only later I realized that may be “how are you?” here means “hi”.
It really came as a shock to me when students don’t even care about the presence of the professor in the class. I mean how could they put their feet on the table in an ongoing class? I would not see such behavior back in my home even in our private places. While it was very interesting for me to experience the diversity in the culture and social, it made me appreciate the values that I am being brought up with. I am glad I am from a country where we show respect through our gesture because I feel that only when we feel it in our heart that we will be able to express it. I don’t know if my professor care about it at all but I make an gesture to show my respect to them though it may look ridiculously funny to people who are not used to seeing such rare thing. But this is the person I am molded into and old habit die hard.

(All mentioned above my personal views and thoughts)

Monday, April 29, 2013

Painful Days


I was on my way back to my place from the University when I saw this picture and it instantly engulf me with tears. Only a mother could endure such pain to love and feed her child. And here I am on  the luxury of studying, leaving my only child behind with her father and make them endure the pain of separation. I could have chosen to stay with my family and somebody would have easily taken the responsibility of filling the gap by studying what I am studying now and contribute to nation. Everyone says, time heels everything but no, it is making it worst. As my child grows up, I am not there to let her hold my finger. When she speaks her first few words, I am not there to cry with joy with my husband. When she first started to pretend play, I am not there to be her playmate. I am missing out on so many precious moments that I will never encounter in my entire life. My girl will never be the same little girl again and I will never have the memories of her first steps towards growing up and I will never be able to forgive myself for doing that to my family.  

Saturday, April 20, 2013

I Hate Goodbyes


My housemate’s friends came over to Melbourne for a short vacation and stayed over at our place for couple of days. I could see the fun of reunion after seven years but I could hardly spend time with them as I had my own commitments towards study. But during their last stay I managed to sit with them and share what not things about life.  
Today we went to see them off to airport and I could hardly hold back my tears as the memories of leaving my family behind flashed back. When we saw the airport we wished if we were going back home to our loved ones and bid farewell to Melbourne goodbye forever. Goodbyes are always painful and probably it is one of the hardest thing I have ever known in my life. Even though I know that we have to leave behind everything and everyone behind, it makes me sad to see someone leave. I just hate goodbyes.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

The Pain of Separation


Sometimes we make mistakes and sometimes we make terrible, horrible, and unforgiving mistakes. And whoever said that we don’t know what we have until it is gone is damn crazy right. I am believed to be a strong person and I try to believe it but when it comes to my family, I am on my knees. As a mother, I couldn’t forgive myself for leaving my baby at such a tender age when she needs me the most and as a responsible wife I am to support my hubs when he needs help.
My heart broke into million pieces to leave them and I could hardly see anything. I didn’t care about no one and I couldn’t stop my tears for hours. No appetite, no sleep, there was no charm in doing anything and I felt like I was lost in the big jungle. First day was worst, my baby cried so much the moment we started to Skype. I can’t imagine how much questions we have put in to our little daughter’s head.

My hubs and I concluded that it is some kind of karmic effect that we are all suffering from this separation. I cried when my hubs said “I don’t know how long we are going to live and we are living separately already.” I just hope this will end soon and see better days soon. 

(saying goodbye is the most painful moment I have ever experienced in my life: My little darling during our days together in Bangkok)