The unreeling moments....

It was a time when the world of my life just laid with the beautiful patterned carpet, where I could sophisticatedly delve into the pleasure and even to the extend of claiming self as a unnamed Big Brother, in our own way. All the world of opportunities was not at all a dearth. The men, women, old and young, rich or poor- I would say, I had enough pride with their unwavering friendship and the fraternity that we nurtured. Their lavish and ambiance of positive energy and comradeship never let the things down. It was a time, when one didn’t mind taking a share of food from the very plate and drank varieties in the same cup; the image of that distorted aluminum cup blurrily appears as I pen this. It has been wisely said, innocent days are life’s best drama that are cherished time and again, and bringing nostalgic happy-pain (ness). I feel, the road was worth and best taken and taken to the fullest, and there’s a dearth of a pinch of regret, whatever being we arrived. Pleasure and pain is an exact meaning to life and the voyages on a sail that we made is no loss rather bridged extensively to the nearer arena of experiences. The mischievous lashes and steel-natured confidence from the unparalleled teachers, we heartedly pledge – they were at their best of all. May be a moment’s serpentine treat ruined the day but we are less of word in describing the immense affect it had in the chiseling of life; our’s one time life, sophisticated-oxymoroned life.

(..To be continued…)

Into a new world

Neither I exactly remember the point from where I started the journey nor have I had the fixed destination curled, to tread the road I have taken. The sense of surety did not occur in my mind, as the plant wasn’t at its bud. Accidently, I got crossover at the selection board for the course that should follow later on. I can blurrily stroke back those magical words, when one lady from the panel shot at me, “can you teach a student?” Actually it was supposed to be a big question for a not yet budded leafless stalk, which’d barely completed his plus two- who doesn’t still understand himself completely! “Yes, M’am” was all I could say to the interviewer. May be she might not have sufficed to the query.

Thought it would have never happen but it happened. After a brief introductory course, we were henced to a place, a place very different from what it used to be. It was 1st March, on the first day of the first week, standing before 32 pairs of innocent eyes in the third grade class, greetings extravagantly and I presumed, expecting more than what they’d been going through to their kindling curiosity of learning. Within that, I tried to compose myself and reassured, I ‘ll do my best to give them best in whatever way it may cost- if it is for them. But, at the back of my mind, could not forget that I am just an apprentice , a learner for myself where, still it’s not yet half the journey to the top, to claim, ‘I am their new teacher’. More than half a year flipping over the leaves of the prescribed texts, doing just narration of what is being asked to do seem merely a puppet: what else an amateur can do? Albeit one possess a little extent of broad concept but without a proper channel (skills and strategies) to retrofit, an invigorating thought of igniting those sensitiveness of a young mind was next to impossible. More over, residing in a hamlet concealed from the outside happenings, nothing much can be done. And adding to the problems, with limited resources and materials, one can do nothing. Vagrancy in professionalism seemed to crawl inward in. It was like driving a cab with passengers in a bizarre labyrinth.

With half-filled satisfaction, I was back to the institute, to shape those ram shackle traits I have encountered during periods and months of uneasiness, to curb those very falsities that I was handicapped and to maneuver towards a professional one. Back in College had I voyaged through different reminiscing explorations! Beginning from the understanding the psychological variations of a child to different principles of teaching/learning strategies and pedagogies, and the professionalism developments; were we accentuated to utmost guidance by the professionals. The sharpest din that tinges my thought is that, to be a teacher one need to regard the slice of every bit of art and mastery. It really is really a crime to keep space for complacency in teaching/learning.

Entering into this world, a new world, everyone’s life would be in different panoramic hues. Few more months from here, a new teacher will be placed, to the forefront of another 30 or more pairs of eyes. This time with different prospectus with same perspectives and weapons fully equipped, there will be dearth of uneasiness after all these years of head thudding and hard chiseling moments. Now, I feel fearless to those words by a lady “can you teach a student?” There’s doubtless that by now, we’re quiet coloured-enough-apple, where a different soul can expect a peck of their share.

As and after being a teacher, this is not the final stage as well. Teaching and learning should go in-line like the biological cycle-to the exact U-turn. Learning should remain pre-disposed to every angle and axles of aspects for a teacher. Someone rightly said, teaching isn’t the end process of leaning instead it is the beginning of learning process in life. Knowledge is sans bound and complacency should be void in human, at the most in teachers.

“Teaching is not just filling up the container but lighting the fire” says in the words of W.B.Yeats. As you read these words of the great one, the question may arise in your head, ‘Am I filled enough to fill another?’ Wishing you all the future teacher friends, a successful career.

In The Moonlit Night!

(This poem was written by one of my Student when I was on Teaching Practise In 2008)

The prayer flags around the chorten was fluttering
And the crow was perched on the top
The silent moor was gentle slope towards the
Bottom, where the silent lake was found.

The chilly breeze rushes from the
High peak frozen with snow
Tickling my face and the moor
Appears quite silent and dark.

The snow was gently drifting down
Towards the silent cloudy lake
The timid Sun clings just
Behind in purple glow.

Suddenly the white circular moon
Appears in the blue glittering sky
Reflecting the beauty of jeweled sky
And, the silent moor and the silent lake.

The moonlit night was shadowy
The frosty mountain was blazing
And the crow was calling
And the prayer falgs are fluttering.

The road was bending through
The underneath towards the hills
And I stood on the top of the hills
Gazing towards the lake that rippled.

Sudden chilly breeze keeps whispering over my ears
And what could be the signal!
I wonder for sometime
Just staring all around me.

Once again the chilly breeze rushes from
The high peak which was frozen with snow
Tickling my face and
My wavy hair in the silent moonlit night.

What could be the signal-
What could be the signal-
It is amazing
It is amazing………….
The glittering moon also crept behind
The far away peak and the
Monnlight night was dawn
With chirping of birds.

I could hear in the distance
The people bursting into laughter
And the singing lady and the birds
Flapping their wings and echo of man calling!

Once again the chilly brezee rushes
From the high peak which was frozen
With snow, like the shrill crescendo
Through my mind.

Suddenly in a distance I could see
A lady rushing towards me
As if she shouldn’t be missing the dawn
And shouldn’t be existing during daylight.

Nearer she came, my heart beat faster
As if like playing of music
I was waiting for her to get near
Putting my life on the top of a cliff with
Unimaginative fear.

With no words she hugged me
As if she knows me
I wonder with no words to say
And without knowing anything else to do.

Her face was as white as snow
Which was lying on the peak
Her eyes were chinky with plumy lips
And her hair was waving in the dawn.

Her boot was glassy with red coat
And skirt seems to be as beaty as
Blooming lotus in the silent sky
Which can be easily fitted in my heart core.

Who could be she? From no where
Fragile heart-fragile heart the echo
Came and went on and on-
Over the atmosphere.

When the dawn was about to touch by daylight
With last waords and hug, she went back
Through the bending road on the hills and I kept on
Staring until she dipped behind the peak.

I don’t know from where she came
And where she’s goneWithout a single words from her
The golden moment flew away.

As soon as she left, sun was peeping through
The window pane and I was still lying on
The bed creating my new world
Beyond any imagination.

Since then, when the moonlit night is shadowy
The frosty mountain is blazing
And the crow is calling on the top
And the prayer flags are fluttering

I remain on the hill top
Cherishing the past event
And waiting for her in the
Moonlit night and looking forward

To make my dream in reality-
In reality-
In reality-
In reality!


(Pema Dorji Tamang

Cl-IX

Mendrelgang Middle Secondary School

Tsirang)

Teaching and Learning:A Never Ending Process.........

This is the footage on the Exhibition coordinated by the II year (Secondary)trainees teachers of the Samtse College of Education on the "Teaching Practise Journal Display" for the experience sharing and making it learn for the juniors as well.................................The day's programme was witnessed by the Director of the College and Lecturers and the students from the High school as well. "The display was so educative " shares Sangay(I year Trainee), one of the eyewitnesses of the Program. " Hope I 'll be able to pursue the same idea that I gained from the exhibition for my coming teaching practise", adds another trainee, Dorjee (I year trainee). The hustle and bustle also is being added by the displaying of the old collections of photos of the lecturers when they were as a trainees....

It was correct that, young moments bring you the energy back during the hard-living days.....and seems all the visitors were having their lungs full of shares thru' munching over the old B/W photos.................

Jigsher: Host of our Love.

Gone were those happy moments,where,
We remained tuned to the songs that
Played in the name of luv,indeed,
A calf-love but cherished fullthrotedly.

Still, sweetest words waive my sense,
As I turn over those lyrics that you
Have penned with great lexicality,when
At times, I was made buoyant object.

Your sweet name, ours? made jointly,
Blended from JIgme and Sherub, with
The wishes, never to apart,
As the name itself is!

Alas, true to the nature's nature,
Everything must change; so was our love,
With the nature's divine, we 've fallen,
A curse that would be naught, to spell!

Seasons took its turn,but remain we,embedded,
Strong, in our cutiest love, prayed,
To the Almighty love, let the season wheel,
But, not to wine the fate to topsy- turvy.

As destined, we met, for a time too less,
And,departed without a farewell,too,
The blooming dreams that we had,gradually,
Ceases to blossom as we drifted far way.

Little, had we known, that it was early,
Pouring the every inch of heartout,
Was an unexpected nemesis;now,
When, all these pangs of thoughts glare,naked!

Glamorous scene becomes less interested,
Even, the hairstyling habit are fretted,
Life seems to dragging towards,
Hollow Island, where the poets usually resides.

Jigsher Nite: Breaking the rules... A Reunion!!!

Do anything sort of party/gathering go without a list of drinks in a menu? Exceptionals, mosh? But most believes, a parties without a few sip of wine do not heat them up and feels hard to get along with the moment. Generally, the mixed of these elements surely do makes a gathering spirited-up, hitting some steps of M.Jackson; few trying hard to throttle-out lines of lyrics, which ultimately make the remaining silences to burst their lungs out!
But, we are wrong as so-called conservationists puts -in, a parties/gathering can be enjoyable without the said vapourisers, too....Heeding to this, we seniors, organized a small gathering for the freshers in the institute, under the occasion "Jigsher Reunion". The party kicked-off with tea and snacks and some waffling introductions across the oldies and newcomers (ex-jigsherpas). Drinks were restricted for the nite. This is for the first time, the Jigsherpas had to undergo a party without a drinks, which was their hard life................Hard times?......... Yes, since none of the student coming from the Khaling school remain aloof without a taste of it! ................Ask any fellow who studied there, only one or two may be pure. The culture of drinking has been embedded from the time they are confined in the serenity of Khaling. But, the true nature of Khaling(Jigsher-Ever Higher,ever Onward) has still been strongly withheld in the heart of each seed that She had nurtured.......In the occasion to celebrate those moments, the "Jigsher Nite" have been purely enjoyed and surprise........none complained with the abscence of that! The first ever rule to have been broken............! Everybody felt satisfied...satisfied in the sense, because for the first time, they realized the truth behind a party worth enjoying without a drinks...................Thank You Bros and Sis for your coming and making this moment lively!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Beautiful days in Jigsher......

Ah! Six o’ clock, alarm rang sonorously,
Reluctantly, woke and peeped out,
The blue firmament decked with clouds
And, the calendar marked 20th June,2003.

Peer….eeer! there goes the whistle.
Hastily, with little splash, readied for the morn study,
After, which, comes the ever-flaming desire, slurring,
Walked with juggling plate to swallow a mounted fried rice.

My gho, albeit in ruff and tuff, damned less,
Fall in line to let heartiest hymnal song
To Him “ the God of Wisdom”
And, full-throatedly, a wishful hymn to “ our beloved crown”.

After a short but heart- rending prayer,
Who should be waiting there at the corridor?
A well-built man. Sir Lhundrup, vigilant on dress
Hanged on three parted whip in his hand.

Lash! Printed a pale green mark,
Walked towards class in lamed manner,
Teasing fans voices gushed in, “ any happening, Jim?”
With, semi- crashed face , retort I, “ a piece of Driglam Namzha”.

After all, the painful day ran swiftly
Till the last yellowish rounded metal gong,
But the pale green mark still keeps me reminding
The unforgettable days in Jigsher, mixed joys of yesteryears, hard to forget.