The sweltering days are dry

And wintry nights are blue-

While I await the dawn (With hope out of no hope)

With its promise of dew.

The memories of my bundle of joy,

Now a fragile sixteen year old boy,

Oh! My mealy-mouthed wain

My only son is far, too far away.

Beyond the pristine hills and lofty vales

Of that bitter-cold, rain-fresh land,

I've to fly over misty mountains, tawny foliages,

Over the white clouds and silver sand.

Across miles and miles beyond my count,

And rills and dark rivers, winding springs and streams,

Oh! But I can reach my son

Through my haunting dreams.

I dreamt one day I was close to him,

I kissed his cheeks of blushing rose.

He sat upon my lap and asked,

"Ama, why do you look so morose?"

"And why did you leave me alone

In this secluded alien land?"

"I've many things to let you hear

But you will not understand."

"I don't need Appa; I want you too,

I need you to be near

Your absence I can't bear."

His innocent voice choked,

His soft eyes gleamed; I saw a tear.

But when I tried to hold him tight to comfort him,

To soothe his festering sore,

My poor, poor lonely little boy,

My dream was as if no more.

Love Marriage: Resembles procedural programming language. We have some set functions like flirting, going to movies together, making long conversations on phone and then try to fit all functions to the candidate we like.

Arranged Marriage: Similar to object oriented programming approach. We first fix the candidate and then try to implement functions on her. The main object is fixed and various functions are added to supplement the main program. The functions can be added or deleted.

Love Marriage: It is a throwaway type of prototype as client requirements rises with time thus it is a dynamic system and difficult to maintain.

Arranged Marriage : Requirements are well defined so use of waterfall model is possible.

Love Marriage: Family system hangs because hardware called parents are not responding.

Arranged Marriage: Compatible with hardware Parents.

Love Marriage: You are the project leader so u are responsible for implementation and execution of PROJECT- married life.

Arranged Marriage: You are a team member under project leader parents so they are responsible for successful execution of project Married life.

Love Marriage : Client expectations include exciting feature as spouse cooking food, washing clothes etc.

Arranged Marriage: All these features are covered in the SRS as required features.

Love Marriage: Acceptance test possible you can try before you Buy.

Arranged Marriage: Product is sold on an as is where is basis, Product once sold will not be taken back !

 “Ama, naangyei jaangga kira lek la mo?” (Mother, do you like my kira?) She asked of a passing stranger, a shopper in the vegetable market. “My Ama wove it just for me.” The woman was astonished to see the girl asking her with a tear in her eyes.

“Well, I think it's very pretty Kishu Thara, so tell me little one, why are you crying?" With a quiver in her voice the little girl answered. "After my Ama wove me this kira, she had to go away.” “Well, now," said the lady with interest, "With a little, lovely girl like you waiting for her, I'm sure she'll be right back.” “No Ama, you don't understand,” said the innocent child through her tears, “My Appa said that she's up in heaven now with Meme.”

Finally the woman realized what the child meant, and why she was crying. Then kneeling down she gently cradled the child in her arms and together they cried for the mother that was gone.

Then suddenly the little girl did something that the woman thought was a bit strange. She stopped crying, stepped back from the woman and began to sing. (Saem ma cho,saem ma thri…) She sang so softly, carelessly moving her pink lips stained with ice-cream, that it was almost a whisper. It was the sweetest sound the woman had ever heard, almost like the song of a very small bird in the morning.

After the child stopped singing she explained to the lady, “My Ama used to sing that song to me before she went away, and she made me promise to sing it whenever I started crying and it would make me stop.”

“Tha gocho,” (See here,) she exclaimed with satisfaction, “It did, and now my eyes are dry without tears!” As the woman turned to go, the little girl grabbed her sleeve of her tego, "Ama, das nongsho tah, jaanga hang thur gaenmey chha!” (Can you stay just a minute? I want to show you something.) “Ya ya, drigpai,” (Of course) she answered, “Naangyei sho haang gaenmey chha ya?” (What do you want me to see?) Pointing to a spot on her kira, she said, “You know, right here is where my Ama kissed my kira, and here,” pointing to another spot, “And here is another kiss, and here, and here,” “Ama said that she put all those kisses on my kira so that I would have her kisses for every moment that made me cry.”

By then the lady realized that she wasn't just looking at the kira, no, she was looking at a mother who knew that she was going away and would not be there to kiss away the hurts that she knew her daughter would get. So she took all the love she had for her beautiful little girl and put them into this kira, which her child now so proudly wore. She no longer saw a little girl in a simple Kishu Thara kira, she saw a child wrapped in her mother's love.

The lady left wordlessly, shedding silent tears silently without buying anything, not even a small bunch of coriander....

November 17th '07: Every time I close my lofty eyes I see Jampel, her dark eyes, piercing, dark, staring back at me through her glasses. She has been in my head for months, ever since I last held her in my arms during the college Tarayana Jam Session, and still it feels like yesterday that I lost her. But this happened in my haunting dreams only...

Ever since, these are the memories that have wounded me, chased me through life, up these plains of West Bengal, into this secluded place, Samtse. The cold and the wind blow through me from the northern hills so hard I swear I can be lifted off into the sky, the loneliness bite into my skin, as if I am on top of Thruemsungla in the midst of Winter night and the cold torture my face.

When I sleep, alone or with my room mate, Dorji, in my inner soul, I relive hours of night with her, the smoothness of her skin, the smell of her perfume, the shape of her lopsided smile, her short tawny, fringed hair fluttering in the wind like a newly hoisted prayer flags… I imagine minutes, hours, days, weeks and months… should have had together had she not been eternity been engaged to a friend of mine… Though I can't claim her to be mine, her charm and spirit leans to me as I take the next leap, hope out of no hope, trying to reach the pinnacle of this place of learning, which has also haunted me for months.

I accept my philosophy-my dreams die hard, could die harder! The torrential rains of retreating Summer Monsoon drench me, my shirts clings to my frail chest and my heart, my fragile heart ache as she walk hand- in- hand with her man, beneath his umbrella. I cannot remember the last time I have entered the dinning hall to eat with peace or slept without dreaming of her. My fast-flirting mind races in more than four directions, I would rather it did not go, my mind cries out in pain and agony…the destination is her, only her. How could I have known that this could be my fate, that I would be chasing a dream by its tail, long after I lost my only other dream, the lions' share of my life, I realized-I lost half of my life, waiting to confess my genuine love to her.

I look out to the south, the tea-gardens of Chamurchi, as I push forward and see the last fainting glow of the sun dissolving beneath the western horizon, and my world continues to fade into a black oblivion. The sound of pure silence, the bitter-sweet air rising like a champagne, the lonely sun surrendering to hight, from the campus: bouncing of basketballs on the court, the faintness of Sheryl Crow singing 'The First Cut is the Deepest' from Tsering's room, Namgay( Raangsaem) cautiously waiting to receive the 'Missed-Calls' from his unknown, perhaps his unseen love as D. Phuntsho waiting to steal a glance of M. Dema, counting her steps, not facing her countenance, coming from the computer lab, infected with viruses. All these romances remind me how alone, how desperately alone I am in this place.

All alone, I smiled to myself and thought, "Dear Jampel, how I wish you were here with me now." I knew ever since I saw her that someday I'll die in her dreams.

Abruptly! Unexpectedly, her sonorous husky voice awakens me from my drowsy hypnotic state, as clear as it had been in life. My God did His part of Justice. I took the last glimpse of the last safron-red rays of the sun and I looked behind me, to nothing except her. I thought I was not imagining, I can feel the warmness of her hands against mine, cold and desolate. I can feel her soothing breathe against my mouth and I can almost see her gorgeous form just out of the reach of perception. I am imagining I realise...

I sit down again on the solitary, rotting bench in front of the Academic Block and I continue taking in all the different sensations of my inner feelings erupting like an active volcano. I feel as though she sits down next to me in the place she never wanted me to go.

Its twilight now, I could see the glimmering of the streetlights of the college. "There are huge things I want to share to you," I say suddenly, startling myself as though I had not truly expected the words to come out. I have never in my life felt so at peace. I do not plan on leaving without her. I pinched to prove that I was not imagining…but realize…I am imagining again. All the imaginations, I had touch with seemed to be fading, filling my heart with emptiness, the dull musky nothingness.

The wet wind had started blowing and I could smell the impending rain of post-autumn. It started to drizzle ceaselessly but never washing away my imaginations. The rain was coming down in torrents now, there were nobody around me but it didn't bother me, I prefer to be alone, to wait for someone who won't come to me. A loud clap of thunder forced me to open my eyes and I realized that I was alone with my memories.

As I got up to leave, I heard my friend Dorji Phuntsho murmuring at me with wonder…I smiled, he smiled and we smiled…he now knew I was alone in love!

I confess to you, I might have  fallen in love...my heart asures to me.

He might have thought, "Too!"