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Sunday 14 December 2014

Wreckage escaped


image courtesy: google.

Sailing through the ocean of ephemeral samsara,
I am deeply shaken by turbulence of chilly breeze.
Buoyantly as I float, the wind drifted me afar
Chaotically making me lost between painful waves.

I am sinking but I see you swimming,
Go! catch the end of voyage which is awaiting you.
The hero awaits to hold you hand to save you,
And shower you with love and happiness.

For ship of my life is wrecked,
I might be destined to drown.
Ever if I resurrect on Almighty's grace,
I will pray for your love and happiness.

Sunday 7 December 2014

Message from the Black Mountains.

The beautiful autumn colours were gradually fading and a sensation of parchedness and chill of winter breeze was easily felt. The beautiful valley of Phobjikha, like every winter, had already welcomed their regular guests; I could see flocks of Black-Necked Cranes rummaging through the marshy plains. In some areas, I could see cranes in pairs. Through their melodic calls, a strong reverberation of calls from my dear angel rung hard in my spine. I was among the team of four conservationists to conduct high mountain wildlife patrolling in the Black Mountain regions, the steepness of which rises from Phobjikha, located at an elevation of 2800 masl.

With the rations firmly packed and with the sleeping bags and mats compactly folded, I picked up my Rucksack and began the weeklong mountain expedition. Patrolling is a risky and arduous job for the foresters. The chances of encountering the poacher groups face to face is never zero and with a small group of only four people, it is even riskier. I looked forward. I could see the last house of the village finally giving way to hills of Fir forests. With each step, I was moving a distance farther from my beloved one. I looked back. Perched on a hill top, I could see the sacred Gangtey the seat of great Peling. I closed my eyes, with prayers on my lips, I sought a refuge during our mountain expedition.

We ascended the woods of Rhododendron & Fir and finally reached the mountain top at noon. The vegetation shifted to Junipers, many of which were left  skeletal after  the recent fire outbreak. There was no more mobile connectivity.

 "You are moving in the cold terrains of wilderness. Eat well and take care of your body. I will miss you."  This was the last message of love I heard and for the next 7 days, I was not sure whether I would get to hear a melodic tune again. I would miss her in the cold.

From the hill top, the elevation never descended below 3500 masl. As we walked over the ridges, we never failed in our duties of inspecting the evidence of poachers entry into the core of our National Park. Jigme Singye Wangchuck National Park is the third largest national park in the country, endowed with rich biological and cultural diversity. Over the last 20 years, the dedicated foresters had put tireless efforts into conserving its sacred habitats. I am lucky to be part of this current scenario.

We spent our first night in a herders' camp. The yaks had already migrated to a warmer region, allowing us to comfortably spend the night in their vacated hut. This was my first unusual evening without phone calls and text message exchanges. Diary! I was advised, numerous times, by my senior conservationists to maintain a diary for future reference. We ate our dinner before dusk doomed us. Soon after dinner, as my colleagues were gossiping, beneath the light of candle, I opened my field journal. After jotting down the highlights of the day, I wrote my first message.

Date: 18/11/2014
Time: 6:23 PM
Place: Yakchutak.

My dear sweetheart,

How is your evening going ? Are you experiencing an unusual evening without our conversations?

Though our last conversation was at 9:00 AM today, to me, it appears like it has been eons since we last spoke. Today I am having an unusual evening. I am missing our long evening talks for the first time after many months of our intimacy. I switched on my mobile to see if a miracle would happen, but the network signal never popped up. If not of my unwavering feelings of love and missing memories of our togetherness, I am totally disconnected from you. The cold air penetrates the walls and hits us hard. It is cold even beside the burning hearth.
 I miss you in the cold.

My dear angel, with each passing second I am recollecting some of our sweet conversations and caring text messages that we exchanged. We never know what the future holds for us, but I have the most beautiful cherishing memories of you and I. My only dream is of you. I will strive to bring my dream into a reality. I am so glad that fate has been so generous to make our bond stronger with each passing day. Our faith and trust will be the forces that will keep our karmic connection firm and complete. If you remember, I told you a month ago that my lost of trust and love in you will be the day I breathe my last and that I miss you with every single breathe.

Do you know how many times you pop into my mind in a day? I think and dream of you often, but it's never enough. In my heart, we are together forever but the distances and obstacles bar us physically. Particularly today, in an alien mountain, as solitarily I sail through the alpine clouds, in the dark silent night, I feel alone. I can't imagine how my life would be without you. Anyways, before I close my journal and attempt a cosy nap in my sleeping bag, on this crispy night, I am referring here to a message which I texted to you one lonely evening;

Oh endearing lotus,
You are frequently swayed by the frosty breeze,
If meeting not ever off lay parting
How elated I would be.
And the greens turn yellow
Only are the faithful words that still remain.
Like the cumulus shades I might fade
but with each diminishing phase
I dream a hundred you.
And in every step I proceed,
Your thoughts pull me a step closer to you,
Simply you are my destiny and I am destined for you.


With love,
Ap Bokto.