Friday, October 16, 2015

Little Angels


'ལུང་པ་རང་ལ་མེད་ན། གཞན་གྱི་བྲན་གཡོག་ཡིན་ནོ།།' Ringing the lines from the lyric in my ears, I want to say:
Tibetans are enslaved in Tibet. Then why not outside. We should know what we are. The process of great mixture of people through globalization has tarnished its shine. Now as we can see in the West, people are connected more by virtual world than personal interaction through basic understanding of human senses, will and envie. Seen are those sour expressions, now insecurity expressed by taut faces too ready to flip into another twisted form like swerving one's steps on a path dotted with potholes filled with water. Despite being so infectious it is learning after all, but only through self-mirroring. Yes, as a few of so rare experiences, I have come across so lovely smiles emanated from lovely cosmopolitan faces younger than 10. I should say they have healed me so far.

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One of my fellow compatriots here in France, who I met a few days ago after almost a couple of years, has left me sort of trying to figure out how to see through his eyes. He has changed a lot. Now equipped with a smart phone, an iphone, with constant beeps indicating influx of incoming messages on Wechat, he switched between personal interaction with me and dealing with his phone like he was rather semi-consciously hovering betwixt the two. Once poked at his fuss, he nervously behaved like he wasn't paying attention to the other. Knowing him so far, even back in India where he used to be a loner, I had the impression that he might be seeing me as just there, a company who breathed and talked. Once spotted something of his interest on me, he sneered and seemed to be seeing me as a comic figure trying to compose myself in letting appear less lagged behind. Or, as per his own fuss or semi-consciousness, as a drifter, a lost one. It was like our insecurities communicating themselves without our conscious knowledge. That is what we have become aside from the more fussy businesses of searching for, having yet not satisfied with a drudge. Not seeded with a viable learning root, we just let ourselves become alienated from us. But we pose to be interested in our cause as ambiguous as relying on, mouthing in quandary like a child learning to speak for the first time.   

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