When wind blows, leaves sway with it.
When wind is still, leaves also stay still.
Leaves move not by choice,
But wind makes it move.

What is different between us and leaves?
If we follow without checking our conscience.
After all, leaves are brainless
And what are we, if our brains are like metals
Sticking up to every magnetic forces?

Tenzin and his teaching job.

                                              

I was just looking around and drinking my latte, waiting for my friend Tenzin who was supposed to meet me at Moon Peak café. Since he is a teacher, I thought he might have got hold up in class or something. In the mean time, I enjoyed the beautiful sunset that I could see across the lofty mountains. An American couple was sitting across a table from me; they were discussing how they should manage their money once they get back home as they may have probably used most of their savings here in Mcleod Ganj. The man was saying, “Maybe I should work in my father’s company as he always wanted” and she was saying, “no, you can’t. You will not come home early and you will be away a lot of times if you work in your father’s company.” The man was shaking his head and said, “no, I won’t. I promise you that I will be at home as much as I can. Honey, you know that we need to earn some money as our baby is coming soon; we need to make sure he gets all the things that we never had in our life.” When I heard it, I took a quick look at the woman and noticed her small protruding belly. Once I knew that they were having a baby, I stopped eavesdropping on their conversation.

Later, Tenzin showed up. He sat on the chair across the table and said, “hey, I am so sorry, we got hold up in an emergency meeting.” He has been a teacher at Tibetan Children’s Village (T.C.V) School for over 10 years now. We grew up together in that school. He used to say that the reason for his choice to be a teacher is that he wanted to give it back to the community by serving as a teacher. But I have always wondered why he is lying to himself. His teaching job was the last option he had after his graduation. First, he tried to get a job in some companies, but he got rejected right within few minutes into those interviews. Then he tried to get a job in Central Tibetan Administration (CTA) but his Tibetan language skills were so poor that he came last at the entrance test for CTA recruitment examination. Finally, like many youngsters who have graduated with a piece of paper called degree in their hand but with an empty brain, he decided to go for Teachers’ Training Institute under CTA’s Department of Education at Bhuntar, Manali. After one and half years, he got a job as a social studies teacher for junior section at TCV. I still remember Tenzin telling me before going for training that he thinks a teacher’s profession is the most stable job in our community. So sometimes, I wonder why we lack good teachers in our community. May be our youngsters weren’t inspired from school days to become a teacher. I don’t know what went wrong or I am not sure what I think is right as I don’t have either a degree or knowledge to be a teacher.

Tenzin looked at me and said “Do you know what happened at the school today?” He looked like a child too eager to tell his parents what has happened in school. So to let the time pass and also let his coffee go smooth, I asked what has happened. He put down his cup and said, “a student was beaten by a teacher who has anger issues. He broke the student’s hand. It was not the first time he has done so. Earlier, he knocked a student out of consciousness by continuously punching him on the face, but this time, the student with broken hand is son of a rich family in McLeod Ganj. The father is a Member of Parliament; he came up to the school demanding the teacher to be expelled. So we had an emergency meeting about it.”

“What was decided during the meeting?” I asked. “Well, some teachers supported him saying that even though corporal punishment is banned in TCV School, some students need to be guided with little beating or else they won’t listen to the teachers. They further added that if the teacher is expelled from the school for beating a Tibetan parliamentarian’s son, then what about others who raise their hands on students who have come from Tibet and have no one looking after them. The director and principal were confused. In the end they decided to transfer the teacher to another branch of TCV in south India.”  He took a sip of his coffee and continued “well these days, if a student is not studying, teachers are blamed, but if a teacher raises his hand on a student to make him study, the teacher is blamed for resorting to wrong methods. I am lucky that I am not so ill-tempered. If a student misbehaves, I just deduct some of their marks. This approach has improved some students but some students don’t care about marks; they are the ones I am most bothered about.” With a sad face, he lit a cigarette. I also lit one and said “maybe you should try to talk to them personally, listen to their problems and give some advices. Try to be their friend, not a boss.” “Well, if I try to be their friend, they will think that I am weak or something. I am sure they will take advantage of me. They don’t even respect teachers these days.”

At that time the American couple left their table as a bunch of loud domestic tourists came to sit at a table behind them. Some of them were staring at the American woman. Well, staring at a woman as if they are an object in museum is an unpleasant habit of many indecent men in India. Maybe the woman got uncomfortable with their stare. So they left grumbling “so uncivilized….”. I took a last drag from the cigarette and stubbed it in the ashtray.

“Well, maybe if you try to reach them genuinely, they may respond well and listen to you. About the respect part, you should earn it. Being a teacher doesn’t necessarily mean respect come along with your salary. You will have to earn it. When we were in school, we don’t respect every teacher with genuine feeling. We used to respect them out of fear. But we respect and love some teachers and we still remember and admire them,” I said, trying to put some sense into him even though I was not really sure I was saying the right thing.

He looked at the sunset for a while and said “don’t worry mate; I am soon going for a trip to England with some students for a student’s exchange program. And I am planning to run away once the program is done. I will go to Sweden from there and seek asylum. My uncle is in Sweden and he told it is best for me.” Well for once he said something for which I didn’t have anything to say other than “well good luck, you shouldn’t have become a teacher at all.”

After a month, I heard that he had run away from the airport while he was coming back. No one knows where he has gone. TCV was so embarrassed that they had to officially apologize to the British Consulate and the school responsible for the program.

Here I am stuck in rain,
Not by choice but by accident.
What about those stuck in life,
Not by accident but by ignorance and ego?

the wind is blowing east
few leaves on the nearly dead tree are swaying east
papers and plastics on the ground are being blown east.
but I with my conscience walked west.

Rain, you can slit through wind,
Explode after hitting the ground.
Don't you dare to wet me
And let my clothes smell.
You can soak a beautiful girl
And admire  her exposed breast,
Yet, don't you dare to let her catch cold.

I asked, You replied. - a poem with my friend choezom

The wind blows freely,
The rain falls at it's will.
But, why my heart feels a thing
And says another thing to you?

-freely wind cannot blow,
That wind directs rain
Nature, reasons and circumstances
Do hinder the flow.

A fallen leaf, sways where wind takes it.
On the tree, it is part of something.
On the ground, what it is? A trash?
Or may be, part of a larger existence?

-the moment you sway,
Belongs nowhere but decay

That fallen leaf exist

For nothing and no one.

The sun is reddish,

Showing its end over the far away hills.
Why does it have to go?
Why can't it stay up forever?

-the sun shines to set,
After-all humans live to die.
If not, it is stagnation,
Maybe - moon won't allow it.

A lone tree standing straight,
Amid a barren dead land.
Is it pride or solitude?
Or maybe waiting for rain?

-a lone tree is meant to be,
Not a choice nor fate.
Like sun, is solitary
In fullness it stand.

love and lust

Love and lust,
Stand apart, a vague consciousness between them.
Love is to be alive
And lust, to thrive the love.

Saka dawa, stingy man n two beggars.

A stingy man walks the kora road,
A lazy beggar pulls his hand out,
A disabled beggar shows scorn face to the lazy one,
And tries to display his helplessness,
Yet the stingy one walks away with indifference
To the dismay of both.
He recites a mantra while grumbling about the beggars.

A walk in the rain

Under a colorful umbrella

I walked with her,

Smiling, hiding my nervousness.

Her smile enchanting me more,

Her laugh sounding musical,

We walked in the rain, 

Under a colorful umbrella.

The rain was falling softly,

The sky was gray

The wind was blowing gently,

Swaying the leaves to and fro. 

An ideal romantic scene.

Yet, we weren't holding hands.

Nor we were kissing under the umbrella.

Why didn't we make our  moment a memorable one?

Sadly, her heart has no space for me.

She said she's confused about me.

Why didn't I kiss and hold her hand?

Am I a coward or a decent one?

Would she have blushed or slapped me,

If I did kiss he?

That only she knows.

A thought on existence

I was born long ago

And will be dead soon enough, 

Was I born, just to die?

Surely, It can't be that absurd.

My existence, yours too, must have a purpose.

Then what is the reason of my existence?

I still don't know.

Yet, I don't want to know.

I just want to live

As my existence can't be just to survive.

Then is it also to love and be loved?

I believe so,

I have loved and  be loved,

Found and lost,

Accepted and abandoned.

Laughed and cried.

But what is life without love?

An existence without love, a real tragedy.

Don't mock me rain.

Oh! Rain, are you mocking me?

Or are you consoling me?

You came early but also a little late,

She was gone already.

There is no wound in my heart

So, don't try to soothe anything.

There is no sense of lost in me

You don't need to mock me.

I've loved her, not knowing what is love.

She is gone and I am lost.

Beautiful memories, all I have left with.

I don't mind the  pain of reliving them.

I am a hypocrite

Hypocrite, yes I am that.

I think something but say something else.

I have a principle of my own,

And it does have a limit.

When it works against my benefit

I let it go, easily sometimes, 

sometimes with a heavy heart.

I am scared of others judgement,

What to do?

I want peace not grudge.

I say what they want to hear

And suppress my opinion within me,

Forever banishing it,

To a remote corner of my brain.

Love

Love? A beautiful word, complicated meaning!

A thing of multiple faces-attachment, desire and possession, lust.

We die for it, is it that precious?

We cry for it, is it that painful?

We kill for it, is it that lethal?

I don't know anymore,

Is it destroying us or bringing us together?

Love, an addictive thing, yet the most sought after thing.

Roads, or not roads.

Two roads diverge in a wood,

One road looks promising,

Yet it is filled with rocks and thorns.

The other road looks tiring,

Yet it is worth the try.

I stand in the wood,

Staring at the two roads,

Wondering which one is easier to travel,

Yet I am not sure, 

Not sure the easier one will give,  give me the lasting peace.

And I have no courage to follow the tougher road.

Am I a coward?

Am I a pessimist?

Am I an unrealistic soul?

I can't be sure.

May be, 

I am everything but not a happy soul.

I am not even sure, that these roads are a road.

An Ambulance

Whenever I see an ambulance

Rushing with its loud siren,

I always wonder

What is the patient suffering from?  

May be a heart attack, 

When he knew that he has won a lottery

Or he just got a bad news.

What a pity,

I hope he will be fine.

Om mani pemai hung

 Whenever I see an ambulance

I feel like its reminding me,

That life is so fragile and uncertain

It’s now or never,

Live fully while you can.

Sometimes, I wonder

What it’s like

To be in an ambulance

Lying on a stretcher

All your near ones around you

Gazing with worry and hope

Praying for your wellbeing.

Hope it will never come to me

At least I hope and pray that

An ambulance won't come for me,

Yet, still life is uncertain

I kept thinking

My roommate is snoring,

Dogs are barking

As if their time has come.

I am smoking,

The rooms light is on

And a fly bummed against the window.

Someone opened their door.

But I kept thinking.

The days been long,

It’s Holiday and nothing to do.

Somebody is using water tap

May be boiling a noodle soon,

It’s cold and noodle is good.

But I kept on thinking, thinking about her.

Then I retired, I want to be up early to get my breakfast.

                                                                11/01/2014, sara college.

Noises From The McLeod Ganj

Hey, how you doing?

I am a Tibetan,

Came from Tibet,

Just trying to survive here, not living here.

Hey, I am an American,

came here for my spiritual development,

And now I am living here,

 And yeah, what is different between living and surviving?

Hey, I am a Tibetan, was born here.

Hoping to go back sometime soon,

Hey, I am British,

came here to make a documentary movie on The Dalai Lama and Tibet’s Issue.

It’s so peaceful here, so inspiring.

Hey, I am a Tibetan,

waiting for my visa, my golden ticket.

I am so bored here, I can’t survive here.

Hey, I am from Germany,

I am thinking about settling here,

got married to a Tibetan girl,

But she wants us to settle in Germany.

Why so? It’s so hard to survive there.

Hey, I am Tibetan.

I will be 67 in this June,

All my children are in New York,

And I live in an old age home.

Hey, I am from Vietnam.

Came here to become a monk,

But my Tibetan is not getting any better.

Hey, I am Tibetan college student.

My family survives on sweater business in winter,

I would love to work here after my studies.

Hey, I am an Indian.  I will be 72 on this may.

I have witnessed every phase of change in Tibetan exile community.

I have great respect for Dalai Lama.

Hey, I am a Tibetan boy,

I like pizza and pasta a lot, have you been to Dharamkhot?

My grandpa loves Tsampa. He says I should try it.

Hey, I am from Italy, I love this town.

The aroma, the scenery, the sky, the food and the people,

Everything is so wonderful, I just love it here.

Hey, I am a Tibetan girl, I love my grandma.

Every morning we use to go for circumambulation.

She always tells me about her life in Tibet.

Hey, I am an Indian tourist from Delhi.

I love His Holiness and also his temple,

So simple, Yet so magnificent,

This town is like a multi cultural museum.

I love being here.

Fatherless

I just know his name,

But I never had a photo of him,

Nor have I seen him.

Did being fatherless affect me?

Yes, it did.

I was violent at my tender age,

But I have never felt the absence of him,

Because I have never thought of him,

Even if I try to think

Nothing comes out,

Just his name and a blank image appear.

My mother never talks about him,

And I never bother to ask.

Now I have a stepfather,

Whom I call my dad,

I feel and love him like my real dad,

Forget about the damn blood thing.

All I care is love and affection

Which he generously pours into my family.

Now I am grown up,

Sometimes I wonder

What he does........

How does he look like?

Is he still alive?

Maybe he has passed away during the Cultural Revolution.

Does he know that?

I am under the guidance of His Holiness?

Even though, he hasn't done his responsibility as a father,

But, maybe something forced him to leave me.

I hope he is living happily wherever he is.

A Tulkhu

A Tulku walked by,
Wearing a ray ban shade
May be hiding his red eyes.
Carrying the latest I phone,
New symbol of supreme realization.
An old man bowed,
I just smiled.
Then he was checking out my girl friend,
I thought of punching him
But then, lots of ignorant people with blind faith were around.
I gave a small peck on her cheek,
She blushed.
The Tulku walked away briskly,
Embarrassed?- I am not sure.
Angry? - I am not scared.
May be to find an another woman- another target,
Another poor victim.
May be an ignorant foreign woman.
The I realized the difference,
The difference between Buddhism and Buddhist.