I savor...
The afternoon mellow sun in winters caressing my face...soft, warm and gentle in it's embrace.
Thunderstorms...lightening, strong winds touch my face, dance through my hair. Rain lashing out on the window pane, pitter-patter on tin roofs.
Walking barefoot on dewy fresh green grass.
Wandering through the morning mist of the hills...sinewy paths of tea-gardens.
The music of the ocean, soft silky sand, rustle of the palm leaves.
Sleeping under a starlit night sky. Drape it around like a blanket...soaking in the beauty of solitude and silence.
_______________________________________________
Much of my craving for nature, beauty, sights and sounds are based on my childhood experiences i reckon. I am attached to my past and i try to cling onto the beautiful sights and sounds and crave for those long lost serene moments when life was without complications...when life was relatively innocent.
My earliest memories would be that of North Bengal. The tea gardens, train chugging along - windows open to the lush greenery. The cobbled walkway to someones bunglow...i can't remember whose...
I remember Bhutan, Pungshilling...teesta with water so clear you could see pure white stones on the river bed. My tricycle...shambhu the boy who used to work with us - who took me out on my tricycle every evening...Vague memories of the restaurant we used have rosomalais from.
The first taste and sight of snow when we moved to Tsimalekha...Huge windows with breathtaking views of hills...the tin roof, Bukharis (Bhutanese version of room heaters!)...Bhutan was one of the best time of my childhood...though i was quite young at the time i have quite a number of memories of Bhutan...The palace at Thimpu, Paro....beautiful mountains...friends collecting wild strawberries, wild flowers...
Even to this day i have dreams of Phungshilling now and then...the winding roads and small bhutanese cottages. I would keep walking on these roads...neverending - never knowing where I'm heading...
I would like to revisit all these old places once before i die and soak-in the changes...I feel I'm an old soul who has preserved centuries of feelings and memories inside and not being able to let go. I would like to revisit and let go...let go off everything in the past and be excused from this cycle of birth-rebirth and endless burden...
The afternoon mellow sun in winters caressing my face...soft, warm and gentle in it's embrace.
Thunderstorms...lightening, strong winds touch my face, dance through my hair. Rain lashing out on the window pane, pitter-patter on tin roofs.
Walking barefoot on dewy fresh green grass.
Wandering through the morning mist of the hills...sinewy paths of tea-gardens.
The music of the ocean, soft silky sand, rustle of the palm leaves.
Sleeping under a starlit night sky. Drape it around like a blanket...soaking in the beauty of solitude and silence.
_______________________________________________
Much of my craving for nature, beauty, sights and sounds are based on my childhood experiences i reckon. I am attached to my past and i try to cling onto the beautiful sights and sounds and crave for those long lost serene moments when life was without complications...when life was relatively innocent.
My earliest memories would be that of North Bengal. The tea gardens, train chugging along - windows open to the lush greenery. The cobbled walkway to someones bunglow...i can't remember whose...
I remember Bhutan, Pungshilling...teesta with water so clear you could see pure white stones on the river bed. My tricycle...shambhu the boy who used to work with us - who took me out on my tricycle every evening...Vague memories of the restaurant we used have rosomalais from.
The first taste and sight of snow when we moved to Tsimalekha...Huge windows with breathtaking views of hills...the tin roof, Bukharis (Bhutanese version of room heaters!)...Bhutan was one of the best time of my childhood...though i was quite young at the time i have quite a number of memories of Bhutan...The palace at Thimpu, Paro....beautiful mountains...friends collecting wild strawberries, wild flowers...
Even to this day i have dreams of Phungshilling now and then...the winding roads and small bhutanese cottages. I would keep walking on these roads...neverending - never knowing where I'm heading...
I would like to revisit all these old places once before i die and soak-in the changes...I feel I'm an old soul who has preserved centuries of feelings and memories inside and not being able to let go. I would like to revisit and let go...let go off everything in the past and be excused from this cycle of birth-rebirth and endless burden...
