Dorji Tenzin: Random Thoughts like Cries of a Clown

It is disheartening to see how we are fooled by traditional medicinal quacks, traditional healers and miraculous healers.   The medicinal Quacks are often shady monks or students of shady lamas who pretended to be making medicines from exotic herbs available in the villages. At one time, I was at home as I had suffered major paralysis.     A traditional quack visited our slums. He was selling medicines which were manufactured by his Tsawai Lama and him. He told the group of women that he was approved by some people placed high in the social hierarchy.   My sister and few other women confessed about their recurring stomach pain. He told them that they shouldn’t eat for two days. On third day, they should drink their own urine. This would wash away the germs inside the stomach. I couldn’t believe my ears and told my sister not to do but to no avail. She was hell-bent to go ahead and get rid of that problem once for all. The urine may be containing some medicinal value but what if

‘I love you. Don’t forget me,’ she whispered into his ears for the hundredth time in the last three hours.   He assured her for the hundredth time that his love for her was true and only the death could separate them.   Both of them seemed to mean what they said. They believed that they couldn’t live void of other’s existence at least at the moment. The cold winter wind was splashing in their faces. Their hands and faces had almost become numb with chilling cold. They didn’t bother the cruel evening wind. They didn’t bother the approaching dusk. They didn’t bother the ominous barking of street mongrels. They were just lost in presence of each other. ‘let’s go home darling,’ Thinley said rubbing his hand against her to keep both of them warm. The giant    pines around them seemed like enormous deities protecting their romantic endeavor.    ‘Stay for five more minutes. Why are you in such hurry?’Wangmo chided her would be husband (at least she let him feel at the moment). They had bee

My face has become a sharp trough For tears that flowed through for a year Then you came to my life out of blue And finally I called you my dear. God must have watched my tear s Falling freely like showers in summers And He must have sent you dear To make my life blossom again. I was lost in jungle of emotional mess   I saw no way forward for otherwise; Your smiles lit my way with light peerless Like a gift from a man kind and wise. Your nature is written in my heart. Your name is plastered on my lips The happiness is painted in my face And the bliss is absorbed in my system. I thank God for sending me, you; An angel in human form To wipe off tears when I am sad To lean on the shoulder when I cry They say there always is second chance Which I didn’t believe till now You are the second chance that I get And I am happy that god’s gift for me is you.