tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291781512058217792012-01-16T09:24:57.737+06:00For Reasons Reason Knows Not Of...Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.comBlogger191100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-27223156545105043392011-12-22T11:22:00.004+06:002011-12-22T11:38:36.500+06:00

There are moments...moments when you feel the panic rising because you can’t remember them so clearly – that memories got so stuck in one place while you have been busy moving ahead with time....with age. It was only days ago when I could remember moments from the time I was only 3 – the day my younger brother was born and how I thought he was the cutest baby, the times when my elder brother

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-52599817203750615852011-11-24T17:18:00.001+06:002011-11-24T17:23:32.546+06:00

One of my good friends, also my roommate when we were studying in India, narrated the following true incidents : There was a woman whom she, my friend, addressed as “Aunty”, known to be a jovial and a happy go lucky soul by nature. Once when the woman had gotten somewhat seriously ill, she had summoned her loving husband by her deathbed and told him that she was going to be no more and that

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-88803268600118819292011-11-07T10:49:00.000+06:002011-11-07T10:53:48.828+06:00

Well, if you are wondering where the heck I have been, you will be disappointed to know, that I haven’t been to Rome or Paris yet, and I definitely haven’t been in a gondola with a Greek God either and therefore, have no adventure tales to relate and the most I have travelled to is to my barren mind, going in circles to the point of madness. I go out of the house in the morning and come home to

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-84840239419682254622011-10-03T09:39:00.000+06:002011-10-03T13:10:14.580+06:00

One boulder is all it takes To crumble a mountain One tear to cause a flood One word to break a bond All the years of building, Forming.. Yielding.. Reduced to rubbles To nothingness And none exempt from it The high and the mighty The good and the humble Friends Kins Spouses Fellow mates Subjected to all crevices of life To fall out And down.. Bruised and hurt Giving way to vengeance Hatred and

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-42116400033074222482011-09-29T18:56:00.001+06:002011-09-29T18:58:25.426+06:00

This is the digital era with apparent pros. But its downside can be far outreaching and dangerous than one can imagine. Not very long ago, people alleged that disruption in internet connection was depressing. If it went on for days, they went maniacal and hissed at the service providers. Now, what depresses them is the speed of the connection. It frustrates them and it agitates them. They want

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-45476723388118405382011-09-16T12:03:00.002+06:002011-09-16T12:23:08.010+06:00

Last minute struggle is a popular trend among the Bhutanese but having a child around is quite often an added woe. Few weeks ago, I was running late for a submission but my little one would not understand. She would climb on my back and stretch my hair or squeeze onto my lap and demand to watch cartoons on my computer or croon to her like she was a baby. As a last minute attempt, I locked myself

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-5776022191855934062011-09-01T14:46:00.000+06:002011-09-01T14:57:40.514+06:00

Do you ever open a blank page with a blank mind with the sole intention to type furiously about anything or nothing, hoping to unleash through your fingers all the things contained consciously or sub consciously through all the years you have lived so far;  a feeling that is undefinable and lying downtrodden along the path between hope, happiness, misery and everything else there is to feel

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-46840963125946428642011-08-30T12:03:00.001+06:002011-08-30T12:03:35.763+06:00

If Lamzang was an actor, this could be one of his biggest shows till date and the rounds of applauses he’s receiving would leave one wondering if the people of Bhutan are awoken from a drunken slumber to a madding crowd of brouhahas. And man, he deserves all that hoots and cheers after endless days of walking around like a rag doll – looking for a crowd jerker. And who in the last Shangrila dare

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-14379966644035780662011-08-09T12:53:00.002+06:002011-08-09T12:56:32.052+06:00

The thing of favouritism has not yet been housed in God’s dictionary – the reason why no one can escape life without paying his dues. One must pay for what he does – one way or the other and if not in this life, then perhaps in the next or next to next. Some people pass through this life only once before the embracement into the divine land, others like us keep coming back to even out what

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-60499877826609686972011-07-26T08:30:00.005+06:002011-07-26T08:53:25.104+06:00

For some reason, I am contemplating over the life of Nelson Mandela today – a man who lived and led by example. And the poem that kept his spirit aflame in his miserable times in a prison for 18 years with the floor as his bed and a bucket as his loo weighs heavily on me now. One question that nags me constantly is : what would I do if I knew I would live only for a year or two? Would I make my

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-88334246486534750962011-07-17T10:36:00.002+06:002011-07-18T11:06:50.462+06:00

I am baffled by this piece of news on Kuensel website titled “Dies at 112” that ends with this line : “The centenarian was a teatotaler and stayed away from tobacco.” Does it mean that the guy never touched tea in all his fortunate 112 years of good life? Things are supposed to take a competitive edge by now, with several private newspapers bustling around. Logically, the world advances with

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-17487151295077204912011-07-14T13:11:00.001+06:002011-07-14T13:11:19.468+06:00

A week or two after we squeezed in into a friend’s dwelling here, a friend lost all his valuables – thousands of dollars, laptop, passport, external drive and even the pair of jeans that he had neatly kept on the table next to his bed that night. A lot of aboriginals live in the locality and it went without saying who caused our friend’s loss and the numerous headaches thereafter. Aboriginals,

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-41660999479455242392011-06-20T12:24:00.005+06:002011-06-20T13:14:54.756+06:00

It’s such a cliché, yet so true – a smile can brighten up the whole world, like some effervescent light uplifting the gloom of the world. A man reciprocates the smile on another face and passes on to the next person he crosses path with. Literally, it’s the smile that travels from face to face, from one moment to another – eternally time travelling and globetrotting. Imagine a world where no one

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-30685886473670286062011-05-23T17:04:00.001+06:002011-05-23T17:07:03.039+06:00

My good friend laughed at me and said “It’s so obvious you are having exams...when else do you hop in for a chat?” And she’s so right!! The last 5 years of uneventful working has caused me serious head damage. It’s now turned seriously dysfunctional and the only thing it understands is the Facebook. The last exam I gave got me classified as Mad and had me swear I would never, never give another

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-2815286755736937792011-05-17T19:15:00.000+06:002011-05-17T19:15:46.687+06:00

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-87654638712508732052011-05-16T07:55:00.002+06:002011-05-16T08:09:08.421+06:00

The house was unusually quiet. I wished she would throw her tantrums again or that atleast she would laugh when I made funny faces at her. Nothing seemed to work. Easter holidays were on and medical stores closed. All I could do was watch my little one moan occasionally as she lay down in bed, bereft of energy and liveliness. But she wouldn’t complain, you see...she’s wouldn’t say she was in

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-45374061806155199132011-05-08T12:22:00.005+06:002011-05-08T12:26:16.468+06:00

I met Pain one yesterday, yet again In his dark, gallant Armour He sat mellow under happiness’ silhouette Doubling his darkness His eyes were intense with depths Of destiny’s haunts and agonies He asked if he could come by But he came by the other day and before that too He will sate a poet’s hunger, he promised Give seasons to my heart And that he’d craft my soul with a door To his unseen,

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-83303232602859020082011-04-20T12:38:00.005+06:002011-04-21T19:22:01.469+06:00

This morning, my husband got up with a pout bigger than Angelina Jolie’s and wouldn’t speak to me at all. Upon  my persistence, he asked me straightaway “Where’s your blog?” And I told him I deleted it some days back because I just can’t keep up and I would prefer not to be a blogger at all than to be a bad blogger. “It’s so bizzaire! To give up just like that!!“ His pout was filling up his face

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29178151205821779.post-23500548341295808132011-04-20T12:36:00.000+06:002011-04-20T12:36:26.561+06:00

Dear God, what Life is this with no time to stand and stare; when my shadows run faster than me and looks back at me with that incredulous expression? Yesterday, my left eyeball hurt, the pain shifted its stance today. Maybe I am thinking too much. Yesterday, I nearly drove up a wall with a weird realisation. It is this : why must only the drivers wear a seatbelt? Must only he survive an accident

Kinga Chodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013380915751404805noreply@blogger.com0