The board that defined yesteryear kindergarten days

It will not be difficult for most Bhutanese to imagine attending kindergarten classes without a notebook or a pencil. Most of the middle aged and older Bhutanese have done exactly that, thanks to the small rectangular slate boards that used to fit comfortably in the traditional hand-woven Bhutanese bags hanging on one shoulder which served as school bags.
Using the slate board, popularly known as slates, was, to say the least, adventurous for toddlers then.
They used to write on the black slate with a white chalk, rub it off when it was full and write on it all over again. Excuse sanitary lessons, but spitting on the slate and cleaning it with the gho or kira cuff was more than normal.
Unlike the notebooks, the children couldn’t afford to drop the precious slate because it would break and they would then invite the fury of both their teachers and parents. Thus, if a child wanted to get back at any of his classmates, breaking his slate was the first option. As a result, most of the fights among children would be because of the slate board or the precious slender white chalks that inked the board.
Slates with wooden frames and white chalks were provided by schools and better endowed students used to show off by buying colourful chalks and carrying fancy bags.
The advantage of slates over paper was that it could be wiped clean and used repeatedly.
But it had more downslides to it. It was more than a challenge to remember what was written earlier. Once it was rubbed off, there was no turning back to the lessons learnt. It was a one way sport and there was no solution to it.
Homeworks used to make it even worse and remembering what was taught in the class and writing it back was a nightmare.
Children were encouraged to bring a damp cloth or sponge to clean the slate in the classroom but it would be stolen which ended up in fights.
It was also a challenge for children to reach home and face their mother with a chalk-smothered gho or half the homework missing from the slates. If one dropped a slate on his way home, he was probably heading for a beating back home.
If one broke his slate, getting another was difficult. Therefore, it was not uncommon to see children carrying broken slate boards. Something was better than nothing after all.
The above experiences can only be inscribed in memoirs today. With notebooks, the experience of classroom learning has been transformed and much more coordinated.

A SCOPE OF AN INSTRUMENT

Mind you, I have been around for a very long time. I am some 200 years old, French in origin. I came into existence out of man’s sheer quest for invention in science and technology. Although I was a crude stuff like a hearing trumpet, if Wikipedia is to be believed, over the years I have made an impressive evolution. If not in purpose at least in terms of sophistication. That’s my history in short.
Hanging around a doctor’s neck, I have the pleasure and pain to witness varying experiences of suffering and agony. It is a pretty horrible job, no refuting that. But experience has been a good teacher. I have done this for ages, almost for two centuries now, and I have grown indifferent over time.
Before I forget, my memory isn’t too good (age does catch up), let me introduce myself. I am Stethoscope, that instrument doctors plug into their ears to feel your heartbeat.  So, there you go. I am an instrument designed to feel the inner workings of a human body. I tell you, I am just a medium as I can’t interpret or understand the meanings of the sounds.
But at times, I feel, the heartbeats have an effect on me, going by the way I have started to feel different emotions. Moments of pain, suffering, and happiness. Happiness, at the time of birth of a new born. It is a miracle. Life.
Yet again, dragged into the normal humdrum duties of every day, life can be so boring. It is a clash between long endless queues of patients and overworked doctors. No wonder, doctors get it wrong at times. Blame the faulty equipment. Poor fellows.
I recall one of the incidents which I thought was not fair, not from a Stethoscope’s point of view.  A few years back, I was hanging in around a doctor’s shoulders, while he talked to a seven year old girl. After running a few tests, the doctor admitted the sick girl at the hospital. Her veins were pierced by needle and connected to pipes that fed fluid to her fragile body. She was in lot of pain.
After three months, she was discharged. It was only a mere infection. She did not have a hole in her heart. Wrong diagnosis. It happens. This is part of the medical history. How many would have died because doctors made a mistake during a critical operation?
There are also times when doctors are at the receiving end for no fault of their own. One time, a rowdy group of men, seemed like relatives of a deceased, charged the doctors, even threatening vengeance and lawsuits. That was uncalled for. Surgeons do their best but often death is too powerful.
Any ways, a little break from the morbid stuff of life, let me share you a secret. I am a feeler, I feel different parts of a human body! I am sure other instruments envy me. That’s the brighter side of the story. I connect to a body and in its internal workings. I feel the beat that keeps life going. That special sound without which there is no life.

Becoming Gemini

When you believe in something for so long that it crashes you when you find out that it was all a lie or it never existed. Well, this happened to me today. I don’t know if it is all true and I don’t want to believe in it but I somehow tend to.

For the past 23 years I believed that I was a cancerian (Zodiac sign Cancer) and then just today found out that I am no longer one. I buy horoscope book religiously every year and read them almost every week thinking that I am a cancerian.

I am so much into it that I see my traits in it and have adapted to the books on astrology so much that I adapt to whatever that has been written in the books.

Hypothetically, I was living my life based on the books and the traits that were in them. I was in high school when I read a horoscope book and found out that I was supposed to be sweet, love my family and hold them together. And be subtle and kind to everyone that i know of and be a nice human being over all. And also carry home on my back, which I think meant that I am a home loving family.  

But then it made me wonder sometimes if I was really of the traits that were mentioned in the books. Sometimes I would be not kind and hate other person but then again the thought of what was written in the books changed me. So there I was never the person that was in the books because some article in the internet tells me that now I am a Gemini. How can that be possible? And how can I turn from being nice to two faced person (a trait in Gemini)?

My stomach crunched when I heard that from my editor and I am not willing to accept that. All my life just because I read the books I tried so hard to adapt to the traits of Cancerian and now what do I do with them? I am not going to read any other books on Gemini and adapt to those traits. Well, I know nobody is forcing me to do so but ME, will be forcing to do so sooner or later. See, that is the extending trust that I have on the sun, moon and the stars. They have been and me being a cancerian has been a part of my life through out.

Oh! I should have guessed that it was a lie coz me and my best friend are of the same zodiac sing yet totally different. She is more daring, go with the flow kind of girl and I am more of a in the box girl. Yes, I did always think about us being so different despite of the similar zodiac but people are suppose to be different, aren’t they?

But then again, when I think about me believing in being a cancer has helped me a lot. Cancer is one of the most sensitive zodiacs from 12 and I read this in a book, so subconsciously I might have been sensitive to peoples feeling and emotion more than I am would have been. I think it is a good thing. Me believing in being a cancer has brought good traits in me, at least.  
Since the time I could remember, I wore a pearl ring which is a cancer stone and every full moon I could see my self in changing moods, because cancer is ruled by the moon and is effected more on full moon nights. Even my mom believes that me wearing a pearl ring controls my temper (I don't always lose my temper, occasionally). With the change in the moon, stars and the sun my stone is Jade, Aquamarine (I like the name) and Topaz. And I will be ruled by Mercury not the moon (but I love moon and it is romantic). You can't even see the planet MERCURY. It is like the moon has betrayed me and left me for Mercury to feast on, like I am some kind of meal.  

Now that I am a Gemini, the thought of being one haunted me last night. For many it won’t matter but for me it means a lot. So then I am a Gemini according to the stars, then so be it. Hell! yea I am a Gemini because one of the traits of Cancerians are that they adapt to things easily.  
So here are some of the positive traits of a true GEMIN:

.Adaptable and versatile

.Communicative and witty

.Intellectual and eloquent

.Youthful and lively

I hope they are true now that I have lost my faith in the aliment of the planets.  

                                                 

Money matters! I know that now.

When I was a little girl all I wanted when I grow up was a family of my own. I was not ambitious at all, I was not worried about money or house or anything. All I was looking forward to when I grow up was a nice life without all the thing mentioned above. 

But today, it's Christmas eve and everyone is planning to go out but I dont have any money. I am so broke that even if you squeeze my purse not a single dim will fall out of it. See that is my condition but not to offend my parents who fills up my pocket every month (they will kill me if they see this). 

Then to my rescue, my younger brother who is still a student called me up to say that he was coming to stay with me. And I came to my usual sister form and asked him for money. Note* he is still a student. imagine how embarrassing that was for me. 

Now I realise that I want MONEY, I want HOUSE and I am WANT to be SOMEONE. At this point it's hell to a family that I always wanted. At the age of 23, I do care about the money I have at the end of the month in my purse. I care if I dont have fuel in my ALTO which is Vxi for your information..he he he... and to buy cloths and accessories that I want. 

I am a normal girl, who is in her early 20's and wanting to be someone, some where.    

Drying Money in the $UN

Angay Gyem is 83 and angay thinks she is still strong because she drinks Horlicks.. Which is true:)

Yesterday angya (grandma) and I spend a wonderful time together doing the most messy thing in the world. We were cutting the meat and drying it in the sun (Bhutanese style).
It has been long since we have spend time together, I went to college then shifted to Thimphu for job. We have been living in Paro for almost 25 years and all the while I was my angay's favorite granddaughter. There was  time when I couldn't sleep without her and now I live in a 2bhk all alone. I use to wonder lying beside her, what if she is gone then who will i sleep with. This was the most feared thought I had.
I went to a boarding school and my grandma went crying to the principal because she knew I could not sleep alone. She asked him to let me stay with her and she promised that she would make sure that I went to the school regularly.
It has been five years since then and I almost forgot the incident. She is 83 now but still strong and willing to do all the chores by herself. Few days back mom had bought 100kg of beef to make shakam and she agreed to take up the task. Though she was the one who agreed to do it,  I was the one who was at loss because she dragged me into it. I was outside the house cutting meat, helping her to dry them. It took us the entire day and I had gone there to spend my weekend as usual.
We sat there and started to work on the meat. Angay was sitting right beside me and started to talk about all the old time we had together. She said, "I think now you should spend some more time with me, I feel lonely." The moment she said that, I was hurt, it made me feel like was the WORST granddaughter that one could have.
Then something very hilarious happened, we were so busy with the meat and the talking that we did not notice a dog stealing the meat. My grandmom jumped out of her skin to chase the dog and said, "This is not meat, it's money."
For her noting was funny in it but for me to see her say that was the most funniest and the cutest thing in the world. That instant I captured her in my mind. After that she asked me to go to a neighbors house to steal bamboo canes because we were running out of them to dry the meat. I was like no, I wont go there, it's stealing and she was, "It's not stealing, it borrowing." She had the most beautiful explanation for that, "The sun is still up so it is not considered stealing it's borrowing with out asking and anyways, we will keep them back."
Both of use smelled of wet beef all over our bodies and had a good laugh after a very long time.

was Cinderella a liar? hummmm!

I am reading a book named, "Cinderella was a liar" and I was so intrigued by it. This book is about how we, specially the women have built our hope around fairy tale and is alway looking for our knight to rescue us. I was once like that, I always believed that my prince charming is out there and I will meet him someday, in that hope I met with lots of men and failed to be with anyone. Looking back at it, I was looking for my prince charming in them, which was out of the question. But now, I tell people there is nothing such a prince charming but i know deep down that I still am waiting for one.

Flipping through the magazines and watching movies, I see lots of happy couples in the world but when I look around me then I find men and women cheating on each other and always fighting. This sometimes makes me wanna give up the hope of meeting my prince charming. 

Then one day, a friend bought this book, "Cinderella was a liar" and she passed it on to me. At first, I was like, aite the author is one agitated and over the world kinds a person. Then as I turned the pages, she says, women always try and look for something that is not there and fail to see what they have it right infront of them. 

We are so lost in looking for a perfect guy that we ignore the ones that are there for us. Then I look at the mirror in search of self inner reflection and to my surprise I found out that i am among those women. I dated so many wonderful men but failed to see my prince charming in them, I was blinded by the fairy tale of knights and white shining armor suite.     

When you call Cinderella a liar, it not that she injected the hope of becoming a princess from a maid to meeting a prince and living happily even after. Its just that, not all the prince that we meet will be holding a glass slipper which is of your size. He might be holding a size 6 but your feet is like size 7. The whole idea behind is that whether you are willing to take the size 6 shoe and make it yours and accept that person with all the faults. In the movie, Cinderella it is just still the prince and the princesses get married after that it is the end. Nobody knows that happened to them. It is said that they live happily ever after but I did not see it and neither did you. It's like in the real world. You meet a couple, they seem just fine together, holding hand and nothing seems to be wrong but who know they are the most unhappy couple in the world. 

if Cinderella was a liar and we are no different then her. 

blogs and what i write

This is the first time i will be writing something that will be read by everyone. Yes, i am journalist and i write articles but they are just facts and figures. What i write are not personal and it does not allow you to be personal with your work. I have tough time writing what i really fell because i am afraid that others will know it and they might know me well. Actually i am a free spirited person, dont normally care what others say or do and most of the time its my way or the high way. But when it come down to my writing, i get conscious and very nervous.
I have been writing it down in my diary for several years now and have been making sure that no one reads it. i have this strong tendency of writing negative thoughts or about bad things that have happened to me in my diary. I share good thoughts with my friend but keep the bad to myself. May be that is one of the reasons why i burn them after i finish writing it.
this is my first attempt on writing it online or in a place where people can read my thoughts or even know me better. I think i am a step ahead now from what i am and what i use to be. As i am writing this thought down, it is making me realise that to share is to let go. To have faith, confidence and to love yourself is the most important thing and if you dont love yourself then you dont deserve to be loved. I think i am letting go of the phobia to write online and let people read.
I know a lot of people who express themselves through their facebook status and let the other person know what they are going through but that is not the case with me. i just write about what i have noticed and most of the time my status box is empty.
This is just the baby step..