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Articles by: Khamdangpa99

Studying in Dhaka

03 Dec 2012 Author Khamdangpa99

I was flying back to Dhaka when on board I saw a magazine. I usually talk to people next to me or at least greet them with gentle smile. This time I was earlier. A Japanese woman who was sitting next to me had a child seemingly an abnormal one.Therefore, I didn’t. I took up a magazine and randomly flipped it. I saw The Hitch Hiking Diary. The first sentence it read; “life is about hitting the road when you are not one among the league of extraordinary flyers”. This kept me thinking for sometime, and I sure knew being in Dhaka is not being in the later. Somehow my determination to become a dentist kept me going.

It is hot today. The temperature is dreary. The beggars on the streets are all the same. Life is full of contrasts. And I am yet to find the equilibrium. Like any other day, I dressed up, put my apron on and headed for college. Lately,I have realized how noisy Dhaka can be, therefore, I didn’t forget to put in my bag my iPod and Dr. Dre along. Yes, Dhaka is noisy, and there is no doubt about it. The moment I came outta gate, the truncated noise came out of nowhere, and when I gazed my vicinity, it didn’t take me long to figure it out that it was a prayer from the mosque nearby. It is early in the morning, as bare a 6 am. Allah sure would have been happy about this. But what the hell?. Why didn’t I recognize the mosque before?

If any thing that needs to be learnt from here is this; it is a taboo, for a guy to sit in the bus without offering his seat to any girl standing, be it teenager, mother or an old grandma. I was on a recklessly driven bus today, and I mean recklessly driven, you wont know it until you come to Dhaka, and a group of boys were seated right next to a windowpane fully comfortable. Right in time, few girls came in with rushed up hush and gladly enough the guys offered seat to these girls and moved to backside which was not so comfy. Yet then again, few elderly lady came along and they again gladly offered their seat. It has been customary here. They respect woman and I very much appreciated it.

I got out from station near my college and was headed to college. Dr. Dre is still playing ample music to keep me floated, the weather not so hot in the morning. I got in the campus, and greeted few professors who very much love using their language in between lectures. Heading to the class, gonna be a pretty much of time in the lift, and I am prone to keeping away with Dr. Dre only if few whom I call pretty classmates are in way of mine.No luck today!.

Physiology lecture was going on. What the hell?. Urinary system?. Didn’t I come here to learn how to take out somebody’s teeth? God damn! It is nothing sorta what I had been imagining a dentistry course would be. Studying eleven modules in a semester. Well not to mention reproductive system and embryology. What’s going on? I don’t k now shits if somebody has a root canal infection in his teeth yet, is this class really necessary? Yes it definitely is. Dentistry, is not just about teeth, it is about almost all of your body.
Thank god we don’t have to study upper and lower extremities, otherwise, what the hell?, I nearly failed in Anatomy last semester. Dental surgery requires more time and patience to go along. Just with teeth as many of us might imagine doesn’t work. You have to study all shits be it your clitoris or the testicles for that matter.

I could see all sort of things during the lecture, I spotted seven people face-booking on their mobile while in lecture. And few others giggling and mentioning how their Eid, Ramadhan or whatever they call have had spent. God, why didn’t these people take the back seat. I could have easily gotten the notes of soft voiced madam Asma. Clearly, they wanted to show up and give what they needed an attendance, but that could have been done even being at the back seat, where they playing smart? God knows!

The next class gonna be dissection class. I would have cried enough with formalin before I come outta class. It is such an irony though, I wonder how government here thought that one hundred and forty students could fit in a ten meter square room with dissection tables all over and cadavers lying all on it. Sure, it is not smelly, but the cry from formalin pays for it. Might one ask why I don’t use goggle? Nobody here does; and it makes me odd being only me using it. and yet surgical gloves and masks. I really think Bangladeshi government needs to do better on promoting public facilities.

At a time rendezvous, I was with few locals for a hangouts. It has been long time since I didn’t play my favorite game, bowling and I called up few girls in if they could come along. We had fun together and went for dinner along with two other guys. Before I could clear the bill, they had it cleared. When telling them it was not necessary one guy said “why? I just fed you”. I was giving a wry smile before I said, “Yes, I enjoyed the dinner you fed me”. The next day, while while I was busy taking lecture notes, a friend of mine poked me and asked, “Do you have a dual pen?”. I gave him a rhetorical look before I realized he meant extra pen, and gave him one.

Another moment, guys were playing football. Like every time in my life I was not the one in the field. But I wished I was. Knows why? All guys play nothing different from what I know. A kicker box ball from a friend and everyone rushes to it. In the back of my mind, I was thinking, “common, we all passed eighth grade”. But they didn’t seem to notice it among themselves and the game went on until a girl shouted; “our keeper is the cucumber”, right sentence, but definitely not a right metaphor to use. A cucumber hangs over its creeps, a keeper catches the ball how can there be relation? Maybe she meant keeper is useless, but trust me he played his best not hovering any goals in. Maybe she could have used, our keeper is a magnet”. But who cares, I am not their English teacher and neither am I here to do critics on their mild English. We do good in classes, with professors claiming that he is better one over another. Even so, the same professor doesn’t “DELIVER” the lecture but “THROW” it to us.

Well I too know that I have to be Roman while in Rome, and I hope my time will come sooner. Still then good luck to those in Bangladesh and happy stay. It has barely been five months and already started feeling like years.

Wife Vs Husband

15 Aug 2012 Author Khamdangpa99

Another Forwarded Email I got from a good friend of mine .. Enjoy !@!!!

Husband: Do you know the meaning of WIFE?

It means, Without Information, Fighting Everytime!

Wife: No darling, it means, With Idiot For Ever

………….

Wife: I wish I was a newspaper, So I’d be in your hands all day.

Husband: I too wish that you were a newspaper, So I could have a new one everyday.

…………….

Doctor: Your husband needs rest and peace. Here are some sleeping  Pills.

Wife: When must I give them to him?

Doctor: They are for you

………………..

Wife: I had to marry you to find out how stupid you are.

Husband: You should have known it the minute I asked you to marry me.

…………….

Husband: Today is Sunday & I have to enjoy it. So I bought 3 movie tickets.

Wife: Why Three?

Husband: For you and your parents

………….

Wife: What will you give me if I climb the great Mount Everest?

Husband: A lovely Push…!!!

…………….

Q: What is the most effective way to remember your wife’s birthday?

A: Just forget it once and you will never forget it again

…………..

The Power of Wife

15 Aug 2012 Author Khamdangpa99

This is the forwarded email i got from a friend of mine. i thought you might like going through !! enjoy @!

QUOTES:-

When a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her.
-David Bissonette

After marriage, husband and wife become two sides of a coin; they just can’t face each other, but still they stay together.
-Sacha Guitry

By all means marry. If you get a good wife, you’ll be happy. If you get a bad one, you’ll become a philosopher.
Socrates

Woman inspires us to great things, and prevents us from achieving them.

The great question… which I have not been able to answer…. is, ‘What does a woman want?
Dumas

I had some words with my wife, and she had some paragraphs with me.|
Sigmund Freud

‘Some people ask the secret of our long marriage. We take time to go to a restaurant two times a week. A little candlelight, dinner, soft music and dancing. She goes Tuesdays, I go Fridays.’

‘There’s a way of transferring funds that is even faster than electronic banking. It’s called marriage.’
Sam Kinison

‘I’ve had bad luck with both my wives. The first one left me, and the second one didn’t.’
James Holt McGavra

Two secrets to keep your marriage brimming
1. Whenever you’re wrong, admit it,
2. Whenever you’re right, shut up.
Patrick Murra

The most effective way to remember your wife’s birthday is to forget it once….
(N)Bash J

You know what I did before I married? Anything I wanted to.

My wife and I were happy for twenty years. Then we met.
Henny Youngman

A good wife always forgives her husband when she’s wrong.
Rodney Dangerfield

A man inserted an ‘ad’ in the classifieds: ‘Wife wanted’. Next day he received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing: ‘You can have mine.’

First Guy (proudly): ‘My wife’s an angel!’
Second Guy: ‘You’re lucky, mine’s still alive.’
Anonymous

SEND THIS TO ALL THE GUYS TO GIVE THEM A GOOD LAUGH……AND TO THOSE LADIES WITH A SENSE OF HUMOR WHO CAN HANDLE IT!!!!!!!

Bandhu Sangma !!!

11 Aug 2012 Author Khamdangpa99

In the boarding school, the food used to be very poor. However at one dinner line gathering i saw dried beef preparation !!! Unfortunately, we were given to self serve only rice and the curry was to be served either by captains or cook. Even so after being dreary for so long without meat i had so much yearning for it and I was thinking “wow today’s dinner gonna be feast!!

As my turn came, i made sure i served enough rice (which was quiet a mountain over my plate), not caring if captain or cooks gives me lesser share of curry. As i geared towards the curry pot, i discovered it was Bandhu Sangmu (dried Brinjal) and not the DRIED BEEF!!!.. poor me .. captains wouldn’t allow to throw away the left over rice !! i had to take all mountain plate of rice with Bandhu Sangmu curry @!!! 😛 😀

A bun in the Oven

28 Feb 2012 Author Khamdangpa99

“So you got Bun in the Oven?” asked Chencho as he takes a step closer to his most beloved naive waiting to see him. “Yes,” replied Karma with her most beautiful smile surpassing all community bashed rumors and stress she holds within.  Her parents didn't confined within her the trust that she should tell them either. She was aware of how her furious father would burst into anger and lament over the silly mistakes. Her mother was not angel to her more so. There fore it was a war within herself to keep up going with what time might bring her situation to. She knew what her neighbors would tell of mothering a fatherless child. Yet she knew it was just a matter of time. She was going to become a mother in few months time, but she never disclosed her secret to anyone. It was a classified secret within her vessels until she came by a man she thought was responsible.

 

“So what have you been doing all these time out of my life without telling me a pin head of what was happening, and why all of a sudden ??” Chencho tried to be gentle, but his facial cranium nerves failed  in covering up his debility in accepting himself a father. Karma was in absolute temperament; but she didn't show it. The hiccups dawning behind her spines, she asked, “Do you remember the last night we went out together?”. Chencho nodded his head with resting chin over his clubbed hands. He was waxed and the utter discomfort felt over entire network of  neurons in his body and brain. He was aware of what happened that night. No remonstration issued from any of the sides. They were drenched. They couldn't talk. The flicker of sunlight under the eucalyptus dimmed each ones side. They gazed at each other binding with obstructions of their own knowing.

 

The ice was finally broken, when Chencho out of desperate hues said; “I wonder if it is a good idea to have the child aborted?” He blatantly issued the statement as that he knew somebody from nearby town of Jaigon who could help them. The fate of child seemed vague. Chencho couldn't imagine of what his family back home would bark him of. He was the most trusted man from his family and having a child even before his graduation would mean a lots of eavesdropping by his family and friends. He couldn't just imagine. But under no circumstances is Karma determined to throw away her child. No matter what, she would never let it happen. She was determined that harshness and cold  or for that matter pain and sorrow is just a matter of change in season. She was hopeful with her blissful eyes.  The argument stood still. Chencho wanted it his way; but Karma never in her slightest weakness was  drooping towards Chencho's faulty appraisal.

 

“It is okay kiddo, I am a man. I know I am responsible.” He smiled wagging his shiny brown flute, a long one over his shoulder. The white collar shirt he wore didn't deter him the least. He stood marveling at what Karma had just brought in front of him. At the hindsight, it was inevitable that he was held responsible; but he had no way to make it otherwise. Karma was relieved at last that her child has confronted with a good luck. Her half unbuttoned purple shirt waiver into air as she stood up to thank him. She wanted to give a tight hug to Chencho but her bulge belly wouldn't let the trick happen. She hold unto his hand, looked into his eyes and murmured some words of gratitude.

 

“Thank you, thank you so much!”,The tears flown down. She tried raising her hind legs on her heels to reach to Chencho's height for a gratitude kiss. A swift moment over his cheek and she found herself smiling. She was happy for the first moment after her pregnancy. “I could bother less of what my friends and family tell now that I have a man to led by”, she thought. She was wrong. She was committing for a marriage to which a man was not ready for.”Will you be good to me in our married life?, she asked not knowing it would be the last question of her life. “You know I am a tough guy; I can hardly be nice to anyone, but I have always been sweet to you” She gave a fanatic lovely smile and was being sweetened more; “I always told you that your sweet side is always your best side”. By this time, his flute had over ridden in his right hand with the grip of lions. He tried to be good and replied, “So I guess that is why you are the only one who has ever seen it”. His grip tightened and Chencho knocked off  Karma with is only flute. She was dead instantly.

 

The next day Chencho was in room watching live BBS about a pregnant woman who had committed suicide under the eucalyptus tree. The police blamed her parents of their naivety, and media blamed government policies.  Chencho was oblivious; but he was guilt ridden. nobody knew anything about what happened that day. And Chencho was not keen in sharing to any of his mates and family either. The murder was concluded as suicide; the blame furbished towards the other ends; and Chencho escaped without a glitches of mourn, yet with bountiful of guilt.

John Cena

10 Dec 2011 Author Khamdangpa99

A woman from Eastern Bhutan was in States for her heart surgery.

By coincidence it happened that the WWE Wrestling Champion John Cena was also in the same hospital; The woman out of pain shouted “ahhhhh; Jang Shiiiinnnaaa (ohh i am gonna be dead).

John Cena who was taking the bed towards her right yelled back; “Woman, my name is John Cena; not Jang Shinna; Be a good fan” .. LOL

Twisted Fate

18 Sep 2011 Author Khamdangpa99

Ugyen was walking home from her evening CE class. A deluded aroma refreshes her face as the light is first switched in her dark room. She then realizes she had not closed her bedroom window. A crimson curtain sways gently as if something is missing. She had it grasped and closed the window. A gush of breeze kissed her chicks as she lay tired from the class. No matter how dark the night, she saw the difference in her life that evening.

At a time rendezvous, the blackout happened. Thimphu didn't shine in night as it used to. The radiant light has gone. In a darkened room she lay perplexed. She reached her hand for the prayer beads she had and was praying. Quietly had she grabbed the match box when she didn't remember where she kept her candle. On her windowsill was an unlighted darted candle. She grasped it and was about to light it. The frail thin body of her made sure the candle was at its last stage.At the far corner on the desk was a half burnt photograph of a fine young man. Nestled in the cob web, the photograph shrouded her in mystery. She looked at the photo as candle is first lit in her darkened room. She starred at it and was taken aback.

It was in her high school classes. She used to be the most beautiful girl of her time. The stature and her physique would have surprised any mortal spies and would surely have won the pageant Beauty Queen. Everybody talked about her specimens that most often it became the regular subject of class's gossip. She was lovely as she was wise; she was gentle as she was intelligent; and with such benign qualities; she was a tactful, yet an anchor for a bewildered Nordhen who was head over heels for her.

Hand in hand, with a crisp breeze, they walked down the clock tower square.  It took them sometime to reach at the centenary Children's park. They shared their turtle's dove together. They whispered sweet nothings to each other.  With her head rested in Nordhen's arm they seemed to be the most loveable couple. The beaded bubbles over the bypassing Wangchu River shrouded them with whirpool of cold refreshing breeze and were in perfect romantic consternation.  “If only Nordhen doesn't change at all” she thought.


“Damn!!!” she was brought out of reverie. Still holding the half burnt photograph in her hand, the wind form the backside window had the door shut with enormous bang. She couldn't help the brine flowed down her red chicks,. Before she realized her candle was at its final stage she nipped it off with her finger.  She then slogged herself in her bed with sadness over run, still crunching upon the mystery unresolved. Her dozy about to sleep consciousness resumed her loss of the love of her life. She didn't know whereabouts of Nordhen after a month later. Some said he was sick, few of my friends said he is dead, and few others even went of saying that he was burnt in a burning house fire.  

Finally clinging upon the hope unreturned, she dazed off to sleep. In her half sleep, she heard her door creaked.  Her prayer beads rattled. The cold air swept over her. She knew something was not right.  Quietly enough, she reached her hand on the windowsill for matchbox; it was not there. She felt creepy. Her heartbeat numbered high, yet she convinced herself it is nothing. In a distant, a faint feeble voice faded in, “What is it Ugyen? It seems something is wrong with you.” She didn't utter a word. She was scared.

As her scary heartbeat pounced more than usual she eventually grasped for the lantern.  It was Nordhen. She couldn't believe her eyes. Perplexed, wondering what it is up to, she kept starring at the silhouette.  “Nordhen?, but after all this years ?” asked her finally. With his finger crisscrossing his own lips, the silhouette uttered, “shhhhhh…. I know, but you got to go with me; I have come to take you with me” she looked puzzled. Her head frowned and she gave her hand to him. She felt icy cold. They walked down the meadow, with beautiful landscapes over the fluttering prayer flags. That was her happiest moment ever since Nordhen left her. 

At dawn next morning, Karma a friend of Ugyen came by her house. She knocked. There came no answer. She knocked again. Yet still no responses at all. Out of frustrations she pushed the bolted door. She found her friend Ugyen in her bed, still, cold and speechless. As she walked towards her, she stumbled upon an old diary; she opened up to read;

“Dear Diary,
As number of days near my count of living, I know I cannot hold onto living forever. Ugyen you deserved a better man, a man with full heart not the one with scar on it. Not the one with cancer on it. There are moments when I write down about my own love, but I don't understand myself why words don't come so easily. Now I see the true old time for our life is depart, but please don't misunderstand me. 

My dear Ugyen, I am not leaving you, but I am going to go for a very long walk. For now I think my destination is still unknown. I promise I will be with you every time you think of me as I am still in love with you and will be. Darling, I need to go now. I hope we can meet someday, somehow even that be on the pyre. I don't want to say goodbye, because I really will be missing you.
With Love
Nordhen.”

In yangchenphug

19 May 2011 Author Khamdangpa99
Wearied but awake Tshewang wipes away the sleep from his glazed eyes and his world comes into focus. It is not really his world, but rather the one which he is encompassed by after his wandering from Tashi Yangtse has finally come to a close. After several months in an alien environment, he comes to terms with everyday life of Yangchenphug, almost. Each day after waking up, freshening up, washing and having something slight to eat, he faces an academic world-a world which is still developing in his mind. How long will it take for this man to be a member of Yangchenphug, rather than a tress passer??
The nightmares help; they partially blind the deep sleep as the book is first opened in the lighted room. No matter how dark the tint he sees the differences everywhere each day which his eastern school days made incomprehensible to him. A five to ten minutes drive and finally he arrives at his place of academic world. Entering the gate he walks to class with his friends. What will happen today, anything new? Or the day to day occurrences which he has become accustomed t? His colleagues don't treat him as easterners, he might as well have been born here, and completely comfortable around his associates he socializes on such a level which almost makes him forget where he is. Different in one's own way, different perspectives and different characters; but all non-caring about the pale complexion, wavy hair, and strange dialects (sharchokp), which is rare amongst this group.
The assembly commences, sung with the unification that most people can barely understand due to common logic of the students cooperating being near to impossible, it is a beautiful display of cultural awakening. The girls gave the soft treble which makes the flocks of flying locals envious while the boys give the bass which strengthen the prayer and powerfully combine the two sounds in the perfect combination of cultural dignity.
Finally after the announcements are made by a few faithful teachers' students' walks to the classes with even more pride this time. A short trip to 11 science D block follows as Tshewang passes by the finely pruned trees, plants and shrubs. The only item left imperfect is the plain of grass, short in parts, long in parts, some parts bare; a reflection of some of the aspirations most places in his wills are lacking.
Soon after the class commence. He along with his associates warmly welcomes the teacher in the crowded classroom. The teacher tells us to sit down and we thank him in return. Is the welcome genuine? Is it the gratitude? What does this diverse group think of the teacher?? All this are questions Tshewang constantly considers. The lesson progresses, at least with most of the students. And there are some of us who still needed some more help. Some students stagnant… and yet the teacher knows it is an unavoidable factor in any part of the world…..
He knows he can change the world… that he needs the right way to do it…

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