Yesterday evening sleeping among thousands at the floor of the edified Gurdwara on the rough red rugged carpet providing a subtle protection against the cold white glassed marble placed at the surface so graciously adding to the radiance of the golden tomb, with the pond gleaming subtly the structures luster, I descended to the baby crotch position and nestled up.


The extra pair of shirt, tucked yet preserving its crease under my skull helped to buoy up the pinching from the hard ground courtesies to the law of gravity.

Thoughts inundated the mind and the heart, as to what do I owe this blessings in disguise to? Actually, the point of concern being what made me put myself in this position, that suddenly I don’t have a home nor enough money to live in a hotel.
Perhaps, the phases of life pass quicker than the blink of an eye.


How come I, I am here? Behold the aggrandizement of ego folks, it seemed to have convinced me that I am in some measures special and this perhaps is not the setting I should be associated with. Yet, as to what of these other folks crumbled up to each other like veggies in a stack, what about them said the ego?

The position I lingered on was such next to a pillar providing shade from the glimmering lights, above my head were others folks in their life's own, journey with their feet pointing at my head, next to my face the same epitome awaited of unbidden rugged feet. 


There were times during the night wherein I feel into complete ease with my surroundings & dare I say may have envisage to hallucinated the oneness of all souls breathing in oneness, all dreaming some of distant places, some of people, some of miseries & pleasure of the past to be fantasised about in now's future.


Subsequently the tenderness of my lovers sanctuary cast a shield over myself and I loosen my hold of my leather laptop bag, with the sense of care as being at the helm of my lovers fate. As fast as fleeting thoughts are, the sense of belongness vanished within the blink of an eye to the tones of the homogeneous voices of some folks crowding up against a poor chap who may have committed an act of adultery, slapping him twice, and hurling abuses at him.


Dismay at being powerless and that it is apparently is not something I would want to get involved at yet, I forced myself to give in to the pain and shut my eyes, shifted sides towards the unsolicited feet turning my back to the gang bang.


Immediately the sense of fear resorted to its humanly embodiment and predominated the bodily senses to be electrified with the thoughts of fear of the unknown. Oh you crazy mind.

Eyes opened, many times, to watch the infinite stars and sky overtaken by the mist yet clouds shining in orange reflecting its arch nemesis, humans wrong doing to the atmosphere, City light and pollution,   Often thoughts came and passed by quick in the moment of not allowing me enough time to objectively question its origins , values & opinions. Perhaps, that is a sure stark sign of a unwary mind, deeper rooted issues in the subconscious level?


Yet the magnificent of all was the morning wake up call. allowing me to comprehend with a swift walk around the pool of nectar, that no power, no pressure decides the fate of my decisions and choices, It the man who does not choose what happens is most unwary, perhaps the man who doesn’t know what he wants shall not be happy with what he gets.
And nothing holds more true to this statement that my own experience of being a squirrel in the middle of the road, look right and left, too soon nowhere to be found but death bed.



My time travelling like a baba sleeping at rather odd places was filled with excitement and adventurous spirit, for I wanted the risk to instil into the very core of my being. The fear of the unknow, provided me with challenges to grow out of my comfort zone, as I choose to do it, 


If you fail to choose for yourself you, essentially you just choose to be victim of the minds whose sole purpose lies in influencing susceptible minds and their aspirations to say the least shall not be noble. They are turning myself and many others into as Terence puts it so eloquently, into a half-baked moron consuming all the trash that’s being manufactured out of the bones of a dying world.      

What is Home?
Some geographical location associated with where they dwell? Is it to do with what is inked with Red, Blue, Green chemicals compositions of with elaborate seals that are specific to countries? 

A physical structure where one keeps belongings and eat, poops, sleep?

Home maybe is where the one's loved ones and things dwell together in a physical sanctuary, perhaps none of it all or as the popular saying goes, home is where the heart is, it is the mystical land promising of serenity? 


Many people I listen to often with naivetés accept that they carried with the thought, the sanctuary so graciously presented by their support/guardians/parents is to be their home.
I did, Later than I like, was I able to mystify of not being associated with "A Soil" but more with "The Soul".

Never was there a night when I was content until I realized this is it, this is perhaps where my heart is happpie.

"This" behold my fellow earthlings is aggrandizement space of "This is it".

Beckoning upon the days in primary school, the drawing class particularly where I always painted Mountains, with the orange Sun shining gifting every 8 mins and 20 seconds a new gift to the mighty snow-capped peaks coming to quench the our earnestness with its crystal clear cold water. Where the pillars of love stood strong for a tiny cabin.
The joyful canine's and the herds keeping on toes. The home I drew.


My trip to Khangchendzonga national park, my new Home has it all.
For never I had a more joyful night after acknowledging the blessing of having the imagination lived.
Tears of joys, filled my heart. Ever short lived, the day and night made it more valuable.
As fleeting life's eternity is, soon this wouldn’t be here, indulge in every moment and reverberate all senses as it soon shall pass.

​Impermanence makes everything more beautiful is not it? :)

Many a times, those unfaithful evenings seem to pass into abyss wherein nor the comfort nor the discomfort seem to associate with the state wherein only contentment if any is found in not sleeping, but being awake all night.
I wonder how many of our nights have been a victim of the unfaithful crime in passion of comfort and our chimera charade of home?

I happen to have spent out of 1255 weeks alive since birth in places where my association was based with the bodily soil being in comfort at the earthly soil.
It is not too late yet for the soul to be at home now!

Until the soul finds its soil (Hopefully never), Enjoying this holy night out with the wavy clouds being my roof and the cold earthed land as my bed.

The debt of life itself shall disunite oneself and unite our self into understanding, this is home. Good, bad, cold, warm, comfy, rocky, borders, land, sky, water wherever we are, goes with us our home. It is all here folks.

Transiting now from here (Bhutan) into your mystical land. 
​Cosy up and share me your home, tell me or perhaps yourselves, enjoy the sweet journey of mystifying it :) <3