Wayfarer's window!

A family wedding , with a lot of paraphernalia having origins somewhere in-between the Tibetan and Bhutanese Buddhist realms. Nice pictures to post!!

It hangs on the map of India like and uneasy mangled arm. The North-East; so different from the rest of the country. Almost, as if, you could push it further, quite into oblivion! The struggle has always been there for the slant-eyed (they are called Chinkys), flat-nosed, mongoloid people groups from this part of India to be merged with the country's mainstream. While I boast of friends and relatives from every corner of Northeast: Arunachal, Assam, Manipur, Nagaland, Tripura, Mizoram , Meghalaya and Sikkim, my own hometown Darjeeling is separated by a minor twist in history; but otherwise, can so easily be clubbed with her sisters. Gifted with music , the children of the North east sing the national song.The struggle for acceptance and recognition, get lifted in the waves of  melody and prayer. They believe that since their hearts are right and their prayers sincere; their love for the Country will help  them overcome every difference and let them become a blessing for t...

Imagine a world of darkness and despair. Imagine the world of a person who cannot see. Imagine a world bereft of colors, lights and shades.Imagine being surrounded every moment with these. And yet, despite this; imagine a heart of thankfulness. A song of delight.A melody which sings of the vibrancy of creation. Music that makes one weep! John Dick Khawas, I have only briefly met this man. Yet, his songs have touched my deepest , rawest emotion. For someone who lost his sight when he was a child; his songs reflect an amazing depth of thankfulness and joy. The one I particularly like sings of creation and the creator. It speaks of the blue skies, the white mountains, the songs of the springtime flowers and the melody of the song birds. How can a man without sight sing so passionately about colors and creation, much beyond his reach. This is a secret of a man who has known the unconditional love and absolute goodness of God. I was enthralled listening to his newly released album ...

There we were, a good two hundred of us, lip smacking for a taste of the "call of the wild". Our itinerary was well chalked out: everything to make it eventful, enjoyable and worthwhile! On the face of it, it looked good. In reality, while there were a smattering of well organized events, the jungle trip was only a packaged deal of a whirlwind tour for three-hours packed in safari jeeps. We saw little. They had told us that in the 1288 square kilometers of forests there were only around 200 tigers: the odds of seeing a tiger was always against us. Hanging somewhere between excitement and dismay, we met the man. We met him in two unassuming places; a cottage where he once lived and at the bookshop! As I got to know him better, I began liking him. He was everything I knew him not to be! I knew him as a hunter, whose call to fame were a score of man-eating tigers he shot and killed. Instead, he was a friend of the wild. The vast tracts of remaining forests, the survivin...

Our hosts in Bhutan were my wife's aunt and uncle and a few long-lost cousins and their families. They were gracious and warm. On many days, they would take long hours to prepare the best of Bhutanese delicacies. The best one for me was the Trout -fish curry; adventurously caught in Thimpu river by my wife's cousin and lovingly prepared by her uncle. We also had a visit to the local market to behold the sight of local food and Bhutanese handicraft memetos.