A STIR

Yet to hone and see,
How much more to go
The fullest realization ahead
I starve for…
A hue to be added—
This bleached heart so pale.

A scintillating thought,
A learning to draw closer
What a wise one prepossesses….foresees,
But it remains that unsullied,
Now a thin line surfaces
See how crude it is there!

Oh, yes, for it,
What it should be...
A new chapter unfurling.
How stupid I’ve been,
Unprepared, albeit honest and firm.
It isn’t ample—should see deeper.

And there, as I learn along,
The pain lies as said,
But mere indulgence I care not.
My ground is still firm,
A shield I have already built
To wage a war—what I find there.

More such painful stories pierce my numbed ears;
I still hold on being confident yet not unwittingly.
Spontaneous it is; strained how it can be—
Why I look deeper but still remain intact…

Hold the ground! I whimper ignorant of those peeps, gapes—
I don’t find it going down, but should hold the ground firm ever.
A ledge I can carve out from it, the precipice manageable,
A foothold I can and should find there—not from here, I lag far behind.

Yet Another Collection Gifted by Lodoe: Good For Desktop Wallpapers

The crawling winding road from Manali to Leh; he took it after arriving at a certain point of the summit where the taxi stops for a break en route.

 

A scenic capture of Manali, must be taken from where he stayed for dipping in hot springs.

 

An apple-garden in Manali; the greatest time of the year with blooming fruit-trees around. For me, a true reminiscence of my home and childhood in Bhutan.

 

This is the present scene of the hot-springs housing camp where many go for dipping that is believed to cure a certain ranging diseases of chronic carriers--dyspepsia, arthritis, rheumatism, backpain, jointpain, etc.

 

A night scene Lodoe could capture in time. The lonely silhouette of the giant-looking tree is manipulated to look that sedate and forlorn.

 

In Manali, a waterfall he and his mates came upon by accident during their hiking excursion in the hills. 

 

In Manali, the towering snow-clad ridges, the part of the Himalaya ranges.

 

Another scenic capture Lodoe had on his ascending way to Leh from Manali; it's in Manali.

 

A nice capture from the taxi en route to Leh; a view of Rathang La.

From My Friend Lodoe's Recent Journey To The Himalaya Regions: A Picture Essay

A Tibetan baby-boy beside his mom: A nice picture.

The one part of Leh, the main town or capital of Ladhak.

The other part of Leh surrounded by barren landscape.

A barren landscape in Ladhak bears its beauty against the verdant one below exuding its verdure.

A blooming potato field in Garsha, HP, that seems to exchange its exuberant lushness splendor with the clear ocean blue sky and the half-clad shivering snowy ridges grandeur: A matching reception.

Its Countenance

I

Self-Proofing

Delving into and poring over the internal passion that has compelled me to wade through the quagmire of winding emotional warfare, I now happen to find a nuance--the comparison that should be studied and noted: really my part lacks the gist of being free of any hindrances and setbacks; it suffers from a sort of filth like personality based dignity maintenance that hauls me back to my only craving position, so crude and unqualified. I suffer and so I have to. Even if I can now identify my poor side, I find myself tethered there, to be there where I am. I withdraw that I should do being considerate towards the other side, if there is one, or no matter how ridiculous it is--an unilateral crudeness. "This part is over!" I hear an inner voice, but I can't grasp what it tries to say. Isn't withdrawing justifiable? Who is there to answer this question of mine? I think you can't just simplify what is complicated and complicate what is simple--I learned it from a quote by Arundhati Roy, one of my favourite ones.

II

A Looming Shadow

A predicament there can be,
A malaise, a dilemma and so on...
To learn, to hone, to put to test--
How eligible you are.

But, wait, even there can be,
Wonder an epitome to compare with,
A standard to judge it:
How deep your pain is.

I confess I failed.
"Your ground is shaky!"
I take it as I feel it--
This limp heart is almost defunct.

Still from the overcast night sky
I see the reflection of rays,
No, can't be a beacon but a light
I can stare at, the only illumination.

With my shaky ground,
I crane, swivel my head
Is there any I can spot around--not at all.
I find I am blind from within.