PHUNTSOKLING DIARY
By Tenzin Nyinjey
It’s dawn. I could see a vast open field from my train windows; the sun has just arisen, its colorful rays illuminating the entire space. It is peaceful, serene, and all green. Not a soul exists. It appears
paradise has descended here. Far away from the hustle and bustle of city life, this must be the place where Gods dwell. Such a vast open field; perhaps historical battles might have been fought here between the ancient Hindu kings. Birds fly in the open and borderless sky. I wish I could spread my wings and join them.
A station finally arrives. Nature seems to be shedding its tears; it’s dusty and gloomy. Torn papers were littered all around. Electric poles stand in line, as if they are guarding the local Indians attending the nature’s early call.
Just stepped into the borders of Orissa; passengers around me dabble in Oriya. All are cheered up and are at the top of their wits. Is it because, they are closer home or due to the arrival of lunch? Perhaps a combination of both methinks.
Arrived in Berampur. Paid a call at Girija restaurant, the city’s pride, where some of the world’s most delicious chickens are served. Spoons, forks are NO NO. You got to use your ten fingers to fully enjoy the delicacy. A glass of lassi outside the restaurant completes a fine lunch. Of course, the threat of mosquitoes, and, because of it, the malaria, is always there. People still smile, and life goes on!
Anarakali lodge, another pride of Behrampur’s, breathed its last. The global economic recession seems to have its deadly impact here as well. The hotel has been converted into an insurance company. The lake nearby, as expected, is parched and dry. Rukmini and Gautam seems to
have lost their sheen, as they only show Oriya films. Paramjoti still reigns, as it showed a latest Bollywood movie of Sharukh Khan…
We spent the night at the Hotel ROYAL CASTLE, supposed to be the most opulent in the city. Contradiction has reached its zenith here. It’s air-conditioned, but infested with mosquitoes. Fans smeared with dust, there was no running water, and the phone is dead as ever. ROYAL
CASTLE, THE NAME REALLY CONNED US!
Hired a taxi home; arrived in Phuntsokling. Everything seems a plenty, including the mosquitoes. Just had a chat with young Tibetan lads of this settlement, about Tibetans boycotting the New Year. Some say the boycott is done to oppose China’s ongoing violence in Tibet; some say it is done to remember our fifty years in exile, while some say it is to mourn the death of His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s brother, a staunch Rangzen activist throughout his life. I thought, “Well here are some
sincere and well meaning young Tibetan boys who are not affected by the germs of Middle Way and Rangzen split”.
–The writer is managing editor of Tibet Journal,
a quarterly publication of the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives. The views expressed in this column are personal.
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