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Nostalgic Feelings

After having a good time among us, the Bhutanese MNNITians with a delicious dinner prepared our self in the hostel and a bottle of Vodka yesterday, and then of course a phone call with my Love, it was almost 3:00 AM when I went to sleep. It was almost Noon today when I woke up. As usual, after a mild shower I went on with the normal business- in to the internet world. I read the blog of 17th Karmapa, the article about how His holiness the 17th Karmapa recognized the 4th Jamgon Kongtrul Rinpoche at the age of 12 by giving all the specific locations and alphabets of the parent's name. Go for this

Then I was Face-booking, perhaps the only platform where we share every thing- the frustrations, pleasures and sadness, the tensions and all kind of news through so called the status updates.It is also a platform where we get to see every kind of photos uploaded by our friends. I suddenly captured the glimpse of the Photo (the below) which was uploaded by my cousin brother Wangchuk, who is a monk at Mindrolling in dehradun.

My Little Home
And for some moment I was completely taken aback, as early as a little naughty kid who would refuse to go school if he was not given a note of five or ten Ngultrums by the parents, to those windy nights in winter in the bright moon light, when we kept the traditional theme of 'Night Hunting' alive, for other times we were at boarding school, to those days when I finished bottles of brewed Ara with my dad and  my mother controlling us by lying that there is no Ara at times. All of a sudden, I wanted to go there, be with my parents. I want to be where I was once; free from all the nagging of modern technology. I once again wanted to feel that excitement as a cattle herder both in sun and rains with long leaches measuring my body.

 I realized how much I have missed them. It has almost three years since I last visited the home. This winter break I am planning to go Home, but the questions are:
  •  Will I feel the same as I felt once as a little Kid?
  • What change awaits for me? (which I can make out by the photo itself though).
  •  Will I still be treated as a little kid? (which I exactly know though:).)
However, more than anything else, it is my parents whom I miss so much. The hardships they have taken, the sweat they shed, the sacrifice they made just to feed and educate me through all the times are more then being just a parents. They are everything to me. The kind of encouragement I get from them is unwavering and that has what kept me going no matter what.They have done their work now- making me a real man. It is now my turn to be a real son. It may be a long way to go, but nothing will shatter my hope and aspirations. One fine day I will make them Proud.

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