darjeeling

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THE EARTH, THE SHAKE AND THE UNDEAD

Published April 27, 2015 by reginaginaxoxo

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The entire world is shaken by the Nepal Earthquake. Death tolls keep increasing every hour and the odds are not in favor of lives anymore. I am not from Nepal but my hometown lies very close to it and I know not what I can do to make myself at ease, therefore I am writing. I am one of those thousands who experienced the tremor and thought the end was near but yet lived to experience aftershocks one after another. News has already become very depressing and despite of my dire ambition to be a journalist, I am personally getting pissed at articles claiming an earthquake will return again with 32 times more power etc etc. I question if the thing I’ve been doing like writing is an insensitive subject. Do the writers writing five thousand miles away from it know what they are writing about? Do they know how it feels to hug your loved ones and call on the name of almighty whilst the ground and the surrounding shake like a dilapidated cradle? The moment is lavished with horror and anxiety and I wonder if people can relate.

Never mind. I am happy enough to be alive and to be writing this but this epicenter keeps shifting like crazy and the latest one was only few kilometers away from my hometown proper. I hope you are aware that this is not a report or general information, it is my personal account meant for my personal blog.

I had felt the first tremor of this saga two nights before the actual calamity around 2 a.m. just after I had fought with my boyfriend, so you know I was not in the mood to sleep. I felt a slight tremor but at that time I thought it was just in my head. Days passed with trivial monotonies with people having no idea what catastrophe would befall on the 25th of April 2015. Early around 11 a.m I was sitting on the bed reading Wuthering Heights with this lazy ass of mine when I suddenly felt my bed being rocked by an invisible force. I, however did not panic at first, it was only when I heard my neighbors crying out loud that I went to the kitchen where my parents were calling out my name. NO, we did not rush out but held on to each other, praying. GOD KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED IN NEPAL THEN!!!!

The quake created fear unknown to us. No love for wealth, home, materials but each driven to save his/ her own life and the lives of the (most) loved ones. The only thing you think about when grappled with this energy is who matters and what matters.

The tremors are being felt since then and nobody knows what awaits us. All I know is that Everest is acting selfish, consuming us to heighten itself. We all look forward to future and imagine it to be Shangrila at its best and an Eden at its least. Reality has always crushed our dreams but what can victims of the quake dream anymore? The life there is left in shambles of destruction.

Many people in and around my region have relatives, family and friends in this particular neighboring country. Imagine the angst and the panic! Phones and networks acting like major bitches creating all kinds of tensions necessary to cry and break down.

The news of familiar people dying is not an uncommon subject and the news of the troubled government giving troubles to the troubled is not a tongue teaser either.

Tomorrow is the day I am to venture south and pursue my dream of becoming a successful journalist. Well, passing an online test I am called for a personal interview in the far south and I have been excited as ever. But tonight seems to be one of the most challenging nights, I hope I make it through along with everybody else. My parents are all out in the open and they have been constantly calling me to join them along with 20 others who plan to spend a night out rather than in their warm cozy claustrophobic homes but the stubborn ass that I am, I continue to stay in and write this for my blog and readers listening to the song ‘shake it off’ by Taylor Swift.

Whatever may happen, I will stay positive and chase this nauseous vibe away (trust me headaches, vomiting and dizziness are becoming so common after the quake and I have no logic behind it).On a serious note please do pray for Nepal and my region in North India that are affected quite as much. Prayers can work wonders but above all it gives us hope and hope is what keeps us driven. Nepal deserves to be a hopeful country once again. The dead have died and ardent prayers are with them but the undead are the ones who will be needing all the bounty and prayers of the world, to be strong, to live on and rise from the ashes.

What’s so special about Darjeeling Girls???

Published January 23, 2014 by reginaginaxoxo

I am dying of boredom and despite of having tons of business to mind about esp. my upcoming exams I choose to start doing something that I have never attempted before. Actually I have but very few of you know that I am/ was a freelance writer and I love writing but I am hardly passionate about (anything). My honesty won’t be the best policy it seems. Getting to the point, today is one of those days where you hardly care about anything and you just want to twist and turn and sought your way out of the life that hardly seems moving. I’ve been irregularly sharing my personal poems and thanks to around 20 followers who read it. Well, today I decided to actually write something non-poetic. I KNOW I KNOW! I’ve been writing about Darjeeling like gazillion times and if it was legit for you, my readers ,to shoot me every time I mention ‘Darjeeling’  I’d be a living crocs by now or perhaps dead. But the place is such, my hometown is such that it has bewitched me and I am nothing less than fascinated, so here again I choose to write about Darjeeling….wait! Don’t quit reading! I am here to write about Darjeeling ‘Girls’ get your interest stimulated.

It is so easy to identify a girl from Darjeeling even if you’re in a crowded market place five or five hundred thousand miles away from hometown and you’ll have no clue she is Indian. Hold your breath I am in no mood to sing praises because only donkeys do that neither am I going to mock because only bitches do that, I’ll simply state the truth with a little bit of exaggeration because I can do thatJ.

  • Darjeeling girls complain about ‘’tan’’ but when a third pair of eyes see them they’re remarked to have a wonderful (mostly) fair skin.

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  • They’ve heard it once, they’ve heard it twice. How the hell can cheeks look like apples?

When you hear that people are complimenting your natural blush…. I hope and not the round or heart shaped face structure. :p .

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  • And there are those times when that natural blush turns into a catastrophic situation in an extremely hot climate….siliguri for example and every single pair of eyes simply ogling at you
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And you’re like what are they THINKING?

  • When travelling beyond the realms of familiarity people start addressing you as Chinese, Japanese and everything non- Indian but pro- Asian ( okay that came out wrong, but you get it right?). Tired of explaining and tired of hearing the traumatic response …. You just play along!

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  • People suddenly get so curious about you! I mean about your hair. ‘’So what shampoo do you use?’’ “Your straightened hair is fabulous!’’ “How did you curl your hair like that?’’. Oh I use kalo saboon and everything in my hair is au naturale… even if it is not.. So what? The secret of the hills are not meant to be shared.

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  • The ones who are above 5ft 3 inches are considered tall. Not just tall in D-town they are considered lucky and every tall girl has her air hostess or modeling dream achieved. Rest of us…..well sigh. I was reading Paradise Lost book one and I wondered if the dwarfs of the Himalayas was referred to us  :/ oh nvm didn’t mean to depress you. If you are above 5 ft you’re okay and if not… the secret why Darjeeling girls wear heels –revealed.

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  •  You go on a first date :- climax is…..

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  • Nevermind any of the above things mentioned. Don’t you think Darjeeling people in general  are ferociously talented? There is nothing called mediocre here. You can dance so captivatingly or even sing putting nightingale to shame (told you I would exaggerate)  and be a metal head rocking the Chowrasta festival or leisurely serenading on your guitar ? Often being the subject of envy of others. No offence but  I know you agree.

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  • So I drifted a bit from my topic…. Where we we? Ahh yes. Why are Darjeeling girls special?  They say three W’s of Darjeeling aren’t to be trusted ‘’WEATHER,WINE and WOMEN’’  I guess a loser said that because the ‘weather’ of D- town though unpredictable is enigmatic and phenomenal because everything that is predictable is boring. ‘Wine’ well about that I do not fairly know much because we drink wine that is imported along with the rest of the world so I don’t know why Darjeeling’s wine in particular is not to be trusted? As long as it is not ‘Raksee’ they were referring to, my point seems valid enough. And ‘Women’… now what do I need to fathom or justify as I know a loser made that up? The letter ‘D’ itself define a woman of Darjeeling – Desirable yet Dignified.

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  • Though referred to as a small town girl, do not mess with her, do not underestimate her and do not provoke her. Reasons?

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  • Sometimes a misfit but definitely not a loner. Darjeeling girls are cheerful, pretty and nice though I cannot say that for some psychopaths , like every case here too lies an exception. Hey! I was just kidding. Daughters of the queen irrespective of all social evils that envelops our country are to be respected no matter how different or unlike we look. We are Indians nevertheless and have pledged the same National pledge calling ourselves as an ‘INDIAN’ . Darjeeling girls and people in general are special and feel special no matter what the circumstances are because we are one of the reason  why India is known as a ‘Diverse and multi-cultural’ nation.

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And you make all the difference. 🙂

So it took me two complete hours to write this and I hope I made you smile and made you feel special. This is a locally based article(as if you couldn’t figure -_- ) so let me know if you liked it or hated it and give me your opinion if I should do these non-poetical  stuffs more often and I believe I missed a lot of points so do share your idea below. Thanks. Love you if you read this far Xo
I know the title is sexist…..but that is how i got you to read all of this 😀
– Regina Gurung

THANK THE UN-THANKED

Published July 1, 2013 by reginaginaxoxo

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The grey walls I am writing about,

A cemented block and of course the color grey….

A gloomy color no doubt

But not a tragic story to say.

You can be familiar

With the same faded memories,

Life of difference yet so similar

For even inanimate things have histories.

I am not talking about the past, for all it brings is plague

Nor of the people remarkable or hardly remembered

But those long-gone days so precious and vague

Of tales forgotten the service rendered and non –living life treasured.

The look on your face—-

The confused look that my lines seem a riddle

Not and clear defy time and space

The grey walls I am talking about just recall….

Years ago add or divide the ten

A privileged eyes to enter the magnificent gate

The same hands holding a beloved now holds a pen

Recall those days and count backwards till date.

You and I share the same story

maybe not the same memory.

The days of innocence-yes my topic

A young old grey walls a total nostalgic.

A cartoon bag did you have it too?

Being so tidy just to be untidy

Did you realize we are the privileged few?

To be loved when returned with a bruised knee.

The colors painted the gray classroom

Just to match the new souls so bright

Ravages of time we couldn’t half assume

The gray walls turned bright or bright souls gone white….

Imagination too painted the grey classroom

The question why my blackboard was green

One loving matron coming to broom

The dirty floors magically clean.

The cruel mates who stole the favorite toy

Pencils and sharpeners the latest accessory.

Homeworks would hardly annoy…

as Teachersto tell our favorite story.

Where are those days now?

Could the cycle of life or the parallel universe get it  back?

Gone are those days and facing it with ignorant How’s!

Today, yesterday’s tomorrow goes back to black.

Many words,lyrics and poems emerge

Of memories,childhood etc by the greatest poets.

I, a no-one yet, writing a dirge

Not of the dying year but of the dead walls and chalk baskets.

When the world itself chooses to lose it’s value

Or a woman herself willing to give up her virtue

On what absurd subject could my poem be ranked?

…when I simply want to Thank the un-Thanked.

–         The grey walls that I recall

–         The greatest friends I’ve made

–         The place where I learnt my prayers

–         And also to tie a shoe lace

–         The stories that you and I can share

–         -the place where I learnt to love and care

–         The unthanked walls still there…………….

XO Regina.

ODE ON DARJEELING (my place)

Published June 17, 2013 by reginaginaxoxo

The twisted roads and the high cliffs,

The blue sky kisses the mountains stiff.

From a distant afar the green or the blue

(I do not know the colour to describe that hue)

The colour of the emerald embedded hunchback

That dawns with blue, reigns in green till swallowed by the power of black.

Or could it be the angels mirth

To carve Heaven in the womb of the Mother Earth?

 

The beauty of the hills to see

Is such another ecstasy!

The hypnosis of the fair to know

The allurement starting from the sky and ending on tea gardens below.

The joy of nature plays in the eye

When trees begin to ‘illusionise’ in contrast to the sky.

When over the crown shines the golden fire

From Heaven looks like topaz shining above sapphire.

When Eos arise to mark another day,

One can hardly know the difference in May.

Four different seasons in the course of calendar

To this beautiful hills do the weather surrender,

Could it be summer without a heat

Or a winter with it?

Could it be the rainfall accompanying the spring?

Oh! The mysteries of a beautiful Darjeeling.

 

When the chaos of Heaven’s pour down transparent blood

From within the windows do people hear the heavenly sod.

Who knew the battles of the invisibles could be cheated

When God himself uses the lightning against the undefeated.

The heavenly blood pours down

In the closest realm of the crown.

The skiey battlefield gets cleared

And mortals and subjects arise no more feared.

With the mortal eye look at the queen!

Shining in glory as though it was her victorious win!!!

She stands tall and proud

The mountains behind are her enemies shroud.

She stands distinct from the rest

As she is the blue-blood of magnificent Everest !

 

When the Golden object reaches the west

Had it’s authority nearly under arrest

The tired fire is the brightest thing

To see in the surreal evening.

The clouds are golden and so is Heaven

The evening blessed by the beauty of color seven.

The crimson light from the golden overflows

And to the plains,the hills, the mountain’s bestows

Arm in arm do they unite

To bid goodbye and welcome the night.

To break the friendship of Heaven and Earth who dares?

For they preach love and beauty are greatest when shared.

 

The tiny stars appear

In the sky and hills as though a reflection in the mirror

The darkness cannot consume Darjeeling

For in this town the stars share it’s siblings.

Tokyo,New York or London

Could ever witness this phenomenon.

This small town of love and affection

Couldn’t be defined less than Heaven’s reflection.

If you ask me how am I sure of this?

An atmosphere likely of Angel’s kiss?

I would not be able to tell so well

As to who else would believe in a fairytale?

 

When God said ‘’let there be light!’’

It turned out to be the morning, evening and the night.

All the shades between black and white

Have found its glory in my curvy heights.

What magic used in ‘’thunder, lightning or the rain’’

Or what song inspired Keats to write a Nightingale?

The best of what is known is unknown

Everything is greater than what it’s shown.

‘’….. unheard melodies are sweeter’’

And adding colours, music and hues to the picture,what we imagine is,but, half a rapture.

 

Come by a region where nature sings

Of people,place,tress and buildings.

The chiming clock and the bells fine ringing

You feel the place and it is Darjeeling.

The icy wind could caress your senses

And make your experience more intense.

Like the first page of the first book you ever read

Highly likely a kingdom where a Princess and a Prince would wed.

Come by a kingdom that you should see

And be amazed to find it in a democracy.

Come by to figure the warmth of the cold

And hear the stories never told.

It could be the angel’s mirth

Creating Darjeeling in the womb of the Mother Earth.

The uncorrupted serenity

Could be easily mistaken for eternity

But it is no Heaven

For Heaven is impossible to describe with a pen..

What could it be then?

 

The wisest would try to solve

The mysteries of love and why the Earth revolves.

As for a native like me

It is more than a realm producing tea and more than what you see.

It is not about what drives on wheels

But more about what this place makes me feel,

It is not about what to solve

But more about falling in love,

It is not about a religion or a song

But knowing where I belong.

It is all about what is real

And my Queen stands imperial,

With prisoners in forest chains

And divine blood running through her vein.

With the brightest aura and the strangest architect

She blissfully nurtures all her subjects.

I wouldn’t trade my ‘this-moment’s-feeling’

So heavenly and blissful given by Darjeeling.

She is the queen and I am the daughter

Her name and my name is pretty much not ‘’writ on water’’

 

ImageRegina gurung