Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

13 November 2013

Lunch for Dr.Lotay and Team

Dr.Lotay's team began their voluntary surgical camp in Bajothang on 4th Nov 2013. The next day my wife underwent the surgery. During my two days in the hospital I have witnessed the finest human qualities and absolute sacrifice. He ran from one end of the hospital to another with bright smile on his face, between two surgeries he sees 10 to 20 patients, still there are people waiting to take chances on his way to the OT. He shows no sign of disgust, he rather walks them to the bench and ask them to wait there until he finishes his next case. This continues from 8 in the morning to late into the night. In the following day the team spent over 18 hrs straight, completing record 32 cases in a day, and calling it a day only at 5AM in the morning.
Dr.Lotay doing his last surgery in Bajothang on 13th Nov.
 I was so proud to see my school mate and adopted sister Nime Chunda in the team. She always had that caring nature in her and this time she has found the right team to work with. She hides her shy smile behind the mask and deals with hundreds of patients with consistent softness. I offered to bring her meals but she declined saying she eats with the team in the hospital itself and that's when I learned that they were eating at the hospital mess. I know the food there isn't so bad but for the team that's doing so much I felt it would be an honour to offer them good meals.

I made a casual post on Facebook about offering lunch to the team and suddenly I received a message from a Bhutanese living in New York. Ugay Wangmo supports various causes in Bhutan and this time she asked me to offer lunch to the team and has sent me Nu.10,000. I was so motivated that I offered to serve them lunch throughout their stay here. Even my school and my friends promised their help. By 10th Nov morning my wife recovered enough to help me and together we worked on menu for 13 member team and over 6 helpers. We ordered the lunch from the best hotel in the town.

It's interesting to observe that the team has no set lunch break, they run for lunch in twos and threes as they get time and rush back. Dr.Lotay himself had less than 20 mins to finish his lunch before the next case was ready. But I love it so much when he looked at his menu and commented: "Someone must have told you that I love fish." Yes he loves fish. He was so pleased to see my wife standing and working. Later in the evening when we went to serve them tea and momo, he took my wife in front of the crowd of anxious people and said, "See, there is nothing to worry about. She had her surgery and now she can even work, she is our cook." She was made to show her healing wounds.

Patients consult Dr.Lotay during the Lunch Break
That night they went on till 5AM in the morning to complete 32 cases. After few hours of rest on 11th Nov they conducted 80 endoscopy and still managed to work on seven surgeries which took them till 2:30 AM, this morning. During the lunch I expected to see everybody exhausted but not surprisingly they were full of energy. They were relaxed and had little more time to spare. They say that jokes keep them awake and give them energy but at the end it's the passion that drives them to extremes.

I got a call from a young entrepreneur, Chencho Dorji who wants to help me in offering lunch to the team and he contributed the additional amount of Nu.2000 for yesterday's lunch. For tomorrow a close friend of mine, and an inspiring young leader has offered his hand. He said said, his is not rich but he can do so much for Dr.Lotay. He will send me Nu.5000. He chose to be unnamed. At the end I may have to contribute only a small amount but experience of doing it is an honour for my family and all thanks to three of you.

The following is a poem that has inspired Dr.Lotay and I hope it does the same to all of us. Thanks Tshewang Rabgay for sharing it.

Do it Anyway

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. 
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. 
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. 
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. 
Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. 
Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. 
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten. 
Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. 
Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God. 
It was never between you and them anyway.

~Mother Teresa

28 September 2013

Blowin' in the Wind at School Poetry Recitation

My class VIII C will be reciting Bob Dylan's "Blown' in the Wind" today at the Mass poetry recitation in Bajothang. Poetry recitation in my school has become an exciting event since last year after it was made mass event, where the whole class goes on stage. Junior classes love it so much.

My class was hunting for a poem without success, every poem they put their finger on seemed to be taken by another class. Then I suggested "Blowin' in the Wind", which many wouldn't even think of as poem. But eversince it was included in class VIII reading list I confidently regard it as one. But the lyrics in their text is all messed up so I had to download the original and let them listen to Bob Dylan on Sound Cloud.

We have divided the class into three groups for the three stanzas, where each will have three questions to ask and the answer will be given by the whole class:
"The answer my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind."
However, I came to Thimphu on official assignment and my class was left on their own. The class captain updated me on the progress. Yesterday they called me to say they are done, I asked them to get ready and give me a miss call. When I received the signal I called them and listen to them over the phone. They really seemed ready. Today fourth period is the show time. They promised me some dramatization and banners, which I don't want to miss, so I have request a teacher friend to record on his cell phone for me. I will watch it when I get back.

All the best.

23 March 2013

Poetry Marathon in Agra Lite Festival

If you find me writing too much about my Agra journey, you must forgive and understand that it was my first time attending a Literature Festival. But I was prepared by Tshering C Dorji not to expect too much and to enjoy the places and traveling experience. He told me that Writers are strange species of people who wouldn't listen to your story without finishing theirs- and each has a story that will last a life time, which means no one would be interested in listening to us.
 
Once upon a poetry stage- 11/3/2013
On the second night we finally got our share on the stage to read our poetry in Poetry Marathon, but unfortunately both of us weren't poets for quite some time. Tshering chose to tell a story from his life and I thought I would speak of Blogging in Bhutan. However, I noticed that we cannot speak peacefully if we run longer than a few minutes therefore I readied an old poem from my poetry blog. Tshering found it interesting and encouraged me to go ahead with the poem. And I did!

Shut Up Grandma
Shut Up Grandma,
Your stories are lies.
Sing us a song instead,
But do you even remember the tune?

I’m old enough, grandma,
I have found my own tune.
Forgive me if it hurts you,
Because I've always forgiven you.

Thank you, grandma,
For the life you chose for me,
But sorry again, I rewrote my destiny,
To walked my own free road.

Whose blood runs in me, Grandma?
It feel so cold in my heart.
There is dirt in that, grandma,
I have bled all of it.

There is a question I feared ask, Grandma,
Because I have always felt your answer.
But it doesn’t matter anymore,
So tell me grandma, did you ever love me?
 This was written many years ago when I was a high school boy and I don't know what I meant in these lines. I chose to read it because it sounded very naughty, and also it was short enough to please the writer audience who were waiting to read their poems.