The Stance of an Amateur Writer

So as a cook or a chef examines the ingredients to be added to the recipe in preparation, an amateur writer or blogger as me spend time in pondering over which word to be jotted down next, the phrase to be arranged and fixed into a design that can be palatable and perspicuous for the readers.

Digging and scooping my brain for gleaning the requisite word in store, to be constructed into an attention-grabbing phrase. No matter how poor a repository my brain act as, I manage to create something out of nothing, or reach somewhere out of nowhere. And yet I cook another story, blended with varied flavors to incite different stimuli on the taste buds of many an individual.

Each time an idea strike my mind or an experience incite in me the need to pen down my thoughts, I do it instantly. Or it would be vanished the next minute. Am I in a way tiring myself? Or ushering too much a work burden to my little brain? But each time after the composure of a paragraph or an article, I end up being a happier girl, with a lovely little circle of contentment enclosing my lips.

I would spend time in scribbling something as and when an idea flashes across me. Framing and constructing sentences or knitting a few phrases into poetic expression has caught up my attention. Sometimes, I simply wait for my brain to send the stimulus, which at times fails to. If it does, the same I engrave on the white sheet before it dissipates. Many a times, I would find it hard to assign the accurate word to what I wanted to convey.

People say I am funny, some say I am romantic going through the posts in my blog. But the fact is situation makes me so. The circumstances and the fascinating people around me do layout the conditions congenial for the conception of the necessary ideas and theory in my brain. This subsequently drives me towards the spontaneous reproduction of the same after a period of sorting out the jumbled ideas.

At times, when I am too busy to pen down something or update my blog, I feel as if I have lost track on something else. So often, my daily schedule at the college, the erratic network and some miscellaneous things counteract my earnest urge.

If writing and expressing my own or any other’s hidden stories is an attribute of my happiness, then I am going to go on and on. In this simple way, I am going to choose to be happy. I am going to make this habit cling to me like a shadow. So long as I live, so shall it enthrall and dwell in my everyday custom.

For Pen is always Mightier than Sword...

The Impeccable One

O’wondrous nature, thy value innumerable;

The inspiration that you instill in me,

The warmth that you usher me with,

The happiness that you enclose me with,

The therapeutic value that you seal me with,

The fragrance that you greet me with,

The swinging dance that you welcome me with,

The impeccable bloom that you mesmerize me with,

The ideologies that you enrich me with,

Has made me fall for you.

Now, will you let me to ensue the inspirational drive in me?

Will you let me to bask under your radiance?

Will you let me to employ your therapeutic value on me?

Will you let me to gasp your fragrance?

Will you let me to embrace your warmth?

Will you let me to stare at your immaculate bloom?

Will you let me to tag along your ideologies?

A Day For Retrospection and Gratuity

To the Father of Modern Bhutan,

I warble out this chauvinist hymn;

For letting the nation out of the secluded realm of isolation,

For knitting out a myriad of diplomatic links,

Upon which our nation saunters among other giants

Independent steps despite the miniature it is;

And I salute the brevity and wit with which you handled the miniature.

To the Learned and Respected Teachers,

I appraise you with the words of tribute;

You, the iridescent rays that emanated the radiance

On the mundane path of my life,

And dispelled the obscurity caste by my ignorance.

You, the guiding principle,

The steering wheel that led me

Through my crucial moments to the ultimate destiny of triumph.

You, the vital clog in the wheel of motivation,

The reservoir of inspiration and motivation,

That propelled me to the flimsy firmament of fame and reputation.

You, the epitome of value, knowledge and skills,

The inheritance of which bestowed me with

The worth of person I am and the place where I am.

On this auspicious day; a day of retrospection,

 I salute you the Father and the Demagogue of Bhutan,

The Third Hereditary Monarch, Jigme Dorji Wangchuck,

And all the Beloved Teachers treading his path,

And equipping the future citizens with

The requisite arms for successful and prosperous future.