The untold Truth

As the evening approaches, Tshering with her long heavy hair tied in a pony tail and dressed in her usual black jeans that complimented her slim legs silently slips out of the room with a pocketful of money. With a head bent low she swiftly enters a shop and whispering to the shopkeeper, she comes out with a paper wrapped bottle and a packet of razor blade. Avoiding the glances from the people she goes to her usual spot sheltered by the gloomy huge trees, away from the paddy fields. The birds chirping in the distance adds to her agony as she wishes to live the life of that bird free of the sufferings.
 She empties the bottle in a gulp as usual as the tears well up in her eyes. Who would have thought that the girl who was so cheerful would be burdened with such heavy emotions? It was only in this place that she could cry her heart out; the trees would listen to her problems without judging her. As the alcohol slowly dissolves in her blood stream she recollects the past that torments her frequently. The feeling of guilt and sadness envelopes her already heavy heart as the bottle empties. She stares at her wrist full of scars and after a moment she swiftly takes the blade across her numb wrist. The blood oozes out and for a split second she forgets about all the depressing thoughts as her mind gets diverted to the physical pain.
 “You know why I cut? Because it’s a distraction; for one moment I don’t feel all the pain, the loss, the hurt. All I feel is that razor going into my skin, the blood dripping down my wrist. I don’t think about the way people talk about me behind my back. I don’t think about how a burden I am to my parents and my broken dreams. As the pain insides gets worse and worse I have to make the pain outside worse and worse. It’s all about control. I can’t control the pain on the inside so I get to control it on the outside” Tshering blurts out with teary eyes.
 She fakes a smile and laughs like a normal person but no one would sense her far away expression in her eyes. She dies everyday inside as the future nears, the future that she had never imagined. “I never wanted to come here at Sherubtse. My dream was to be an engineer. My parents had great expectations from me as I was a bright student from the kindergarten. I know my parents are still disheartened with me and the guilt that I let them down never fails to make me live me in peace” she added. Her life is all messed up and the worst thing is that the road that she chose was never the one that she had fancied as a child. She wishes she had never grown up; a feeble wish as the harsh realities of the world crushes her down. She avoids the calls from her parents as she feels guilty for not fulfilling their expectations, to get scholarship to a renowned university. “I know my parents love me and it kills me that I can never return back the care that they have given to me. I feel sorry for them that they got the worst daughter in the world” she breaks down as the guilt haunts her.
Staring into darkness for almost an hour she clears her tear stained face and gets up with a fake smile. She pulls down her long sleeves to cover the blood stained wrist and regaining her balance, she follows the path back to her hostel. With a blank mind she stares back at the place that sheltered her with a promising thought to come back again.

My “Barbie” days

“The modern girls are really unimaginable. I wonder what joy they get by ruining their natural hair colour” a middle aged woman comments as I walk past her followed by the disapproving glance from the others in company with her.

“Yalama!!! Chilip!!!” the small children giggle among themselves when they happen to fall their gaze upon my new bright reddish hair colour. It wasn’t my first time experiencing such reaction from the others. Almost like a habit, I was now used to such criticisms and it was better to let them comment to their satisfaction.

Few months back my friend and I were randomly glancing through the sample pictures on the online shopping website searching for a particular dress to order and the instant my eyes fell on that particular photo, I was intrigued by the bright glowing hair of an unknown model.  Filled with renewed enthusiasm the two of us went to parlour the next day to come out few hours later with a stunning new look. It was then that my “Barbie” days as my friends have nicknamed me began and the more I looked at myself in the mirror, the more I could not take my eyes off from my hair colour despite the insulting comments of others.

However others did not share the same fondness to my new fascination. I was unaware that I was still living in a society where most of the people are uncivilized and are bothersome about the actions of others. The gruesome looks from the elders as if they have come across a thief were enough to turn off my mood. Even while going out for a dinner to a relative’s house, I had to secure my hair into a tight bun and conceal it cautiously so as not to let my hair loose and reveal the colour.

Even though considered by others to be immature, my ‘barbie’ days are bright and colorful.  I do not regret my action and for those who still despise my hair, a wild hair colour does not define a character of a person!!!!  Life is an adventure and it should be experimented often with new things and that’s what I did J

The stranger spirit

The word “SPIRIT” and its mysterious existence have always enchanted me a lot. According to the definition spirit is a characteristics of a person that are considered as being separate from the body, and which many religions believe continue to exist after the body dies. The question “do spirits really exist?” has always intrigued me a lot and even though it may be foolish to even believe in the things which may be unreal I do believe that the spirits exist. I have often heard of the stories and incidents where a spirit possesses a human body to communicate with his/her beloved after his/her death. My village being a remote one, it is full of strange stories about the paranormal activities.

It is fascinating to know our past and I used to always inquire my aunt who had always been closed to me to inform me of my childhood actions and behaviors and it would always be my bedtime stories to hear one of my mischievous actions. It may sound strange but my aunt once narrated me that I was also one of the victims of such possession by a spirit. It is true that I do not remember a single thing may be because of my small age as I could barely speak at that time but that’s what I believe.


It all started with the death of a boy who died of an illness without receiving any medication. As told by my aunt he was a year older than me and our close neighbor. He used to be always attached to me as I was his only companion and his playmate. Call it a coincidence or fate but the night he died, I fell seriously ill and lost my consciousness. The next thing I regained my consciousness, I started talking which is strange because at that time I could barely learn to talk properly. It was for sure that I was possessed by the spirit of that boy as he started requesting to call his family so that he could talk with them for a while. After talking to his parents, then only did he leave my body and the next day I was as healthy as before…


After revealing that incident to me by my aunt, I have often wondered about the possession by the spirits. Could the spirit of that boy possess me because he had always been attached to me or was I so weak to have even been possessed. If I was so weak then why was that possession my first and the last? I sometimes come to the conclusion that maybe he could not let go of me even after he died. I remember years later when I was leaving the village to settle in the town where my dad got a job. We were about to cross a big river and I remember clearly my dad holding me in his arms while crossing the river and the next thing we were both nearly drowned. Luckily we were able to get out of the river and my mother who is quite religious was chanting some prayers.


Now when I reflect upon that incident I think it was some sort of sign to urge me to stay in the village instead of leaving it or maybe he didn’t want to be alone. I am still curious to know if he was the one who made us to nearly get drowned feeling that he was being abandoned. Even today when I visit the village I feel some kind of indescribable emptiness inside me and maybe he is the reason why my parents do not allow me to loiter in faraway places and prefer me to stay in the house. Sometimes I clearly feel all these things to be crazy stuffs but deep down in my heart I hope he has been able to move on and had been able to found a new life even though he was a stranger to me. I can never remember him how hard I try…

Hopeless me

I have often wondered where destiny would lead me to. Would I be able to take a new sharp turn from the same old, tired and lonely road? But the answer never seems to change. It is always the pessimist answer that is no, I will never be able to reach to that point. I believe that this answer will never change throughout the course of my life.

I am the one that is lost in a haze, unable to see the path, blinded by the thick fog of failure. My friends are miles ahead of me with their bright future already blooming in the near garden waiting eagerly for their own master but here I am, unable to move forward to search my own garden because I am always held back by my stupidity.
Being here in Sherubtse I could somehow console myself into thinking that at least success would greet me one day but every time I hear the lecturers announcing our marks, the hope goes down the drain. I now realize that I am a complete idiot to have such expectations and my life is not going to get any better. It is always going to remain imperfect, charmless and lonely. Till now I had always been carrying a wrong notion about myself. I am not courageous enough to let go of the past and fight my own battle and that is what I will always remain throughout my life, a complete coward.

Am i drifting apart from myself?

With the passing of seasons and with every ticking of clock, am I moving far apart from myself? Sometimes I feel like I am completely a different person, a stranger to myself. The person who I used to be has turned into a distant ghost whom I can no longer recognize.

Where is that innocent me? A simple girl who had so much faith in god and in this world? I never believed I would turn into a person who I am in present. Was the harsh wind strong enough to blow away my innocence or was the rain powerful enough to erode my faith? I don’t know if I was just an unstable rock from the beginning that was to be surrendered to the harsh nature but one thing that I am sure about is that I am no longer that same old rock.

I am really a million miles away from myself and I just wish if my old self would return. I really miss that old “ME” who had a positive outlook towards life. It seems like I have lost myself in the thick mist where I can’t even recognize myself. Have I lost myself completely to the harsh challenges where I can no longer differentiate myself?

Failure and disappointment ( a page from my diary)

An unexpected storm has suddenly struck my life. It has totally washed away my hopes and dreams that I had once cherished as a little child. It has now destroyed the path that once was laid for me and the path that was supposed to take me to a successful future.

Being a bright student I never imagined that failure would greet me one day and that also in the crucial stage of my life where no second chance were given. I am in dilemma whether to blame fate for playing such a cruel game on me or myself for being so unlucky despite putting my best efforts. Sometimes I wonder if I am being punished for the bad deeds that I must have accumulated in my previous life. I know that I am not the only one in history to have faced such failure but thinking about my life being ruined by it makes unstoppable tears well up blurring my visions. I really envy those people who were brave enough to cope up with the challenges and move forward without any regrets.

I doubt if I will be strong enough to let this harsh reality slide from my memory and be an unpleasant chapter in my book of life. Deep in my heart I know that I will be forever plunged in the abyss of regrets with happiness light years away from my life. I cannot find a space in my heart to forgive myself for killing and stepping on my parents’ hope as I can never be a good daughter.

Now with my previous path destroyed by the harsh storm, I am left with no option but to take the small road which I had despised in the past and was sure never to take it. I know I am taking a really different journey, a journey so different from the one that I liked to imagine in the past. As I pour down my feelings over these empty pages, a realization is constantly at the back of my mind that life is unfair and I am one of those unfortunate people whose dreams had been shattered completely.