Yet another reason why I love being a teacher.

"Madam congratulations," I typed while eating my noodles at the same time."??????" came the reply. I knew those question tags would be dancing in her head for first of all we were chatting for the first time after having departed for more than a decade and the first thing I said, actually even before a decent hi, was 'congratulations'. Well, I've that kind of nerve, I surely belong to the Ranchi clan(I mean the well-known treatment place for a special group of people there and not the place in itself) as my friends tells me.
But I didn't have to jump high to pull down her question tags,"Heard you are a Vice Principal now," I typed my explanation. "Waiiiiiii," I almost heard her say that as I sat staring at that lone response from my colleague. She had this peculiar style of saying this word, whether she was amazed, astounded, provoked or simply amused. I knew she was amused this time.
Further deep into the conversation I learnt she no longer was what I had heard she was. As she was given the opportunity for further studies in her subject she had to forego that position. Before I could hold back my outrageous comments, I typed,"I would prefer teaching over administration." I bit my tongue, I can be so unrealistically opinionated at times.
But I breathed with relief as she too shared my sentiments. While reasoning out why going in the class and dealing with students is far more better deal than sitting over a chair dealing with teachers, I received a 'Hi madam, h r u?' from a student of mine who is now in college in Bhubaneswer in India. She told me about an international festival they had in her college and they wanted a title for the entire program. She suggested 'Khetshen' which means 'striving for excellence'; her suggested name was chosen over the ones suggested by her seniors. She narrated how students from Korea, Nepal, Bangladesh,Canada, Nigeria, etc where awarded with certificates bearing the name 'Khetshen'.  Later, she was asked to explain what the name meant. She began by telling them..."once upon a time( I felt like I had aged beyond all the fairy tales as she used this to refer to the time I was her teacher) I had a teacher......and she chose this name for our book which we published in our club." Her  reasoning was well applauded she told me. Although I was reading it as a normal chat I could hear the claps and felt so good that she remembered me in such hour and in such manner. She went on,"I didn't win anything, they got all the trophies and certificates but I got  pride for the name I suggested was there on every certificate and trophies they took with them."
I shared her pride as she went on telling me about how she thought of me and the kind of mentor I've been for her. I didn't doubt that at all. I remembered that book she was telling me about was the first newsletter we published in our school only after she left saying she had to go. (Only I know how much I had to put my fingers and poke my aged brain to remember what she had so admiringly remembered...I agreed to her using 'Once upon a time' to talk about her high school days, I'm getting old, I mean I am old....look at my memory system).
I didn't share this with the teacher-friend I was chatting with at the same time but yes! I knew with full heart that I wasn't fibbing when I was saying I love being a teacher. Like my student said," I got the pride." Like I always say, this is why I love being a teacher, you never know how you have touched somebody in some point of your life.

Ghosts with dirty linen?

It was broad daylight outside but in the basement where I had put up, it was as dark as night could be. On Mondays all my roomates leave for work while I bury myself in either chatting in FB or reading a book. As usual, nobody was online in FB so I logged out and buried my nose in the world of Henry VIII and his numerous wives.
"Swish, swish,swish...." Was I dreaming? No, I wasn't even sleeping why would this be a dream? But what was the sound coming from the bathroom? It sounded like somebody was washing their clothes. Phew! I sighed with relief and immediately jolted back to the same fear,'nobody washes their clothes in the bathroom HERE!' My heart jumped out of my chest and it thud-thuded so loud, I couldn't  hear the usual ears blasting sirens of cars plying on the highway right under my window.
I closed my eyes and tried to close my ears too but my ears couldn't be closed. The scratching sound of a brush on a fabric echoed loud enough for my heart to thud with my ears and I thought I heard the water being poured out.
I remembered my days in boarding school where the ghosts doing their laundry was a common phenomenon. Many girls claimed to have heard the sound of somebody walking towards the toilets( which were located at the end of the long line of beds) and then the usual pouring of water and scrubbing sound of a brush.
I wonder why do these ghosts was their clothes all the time? I mean do they have no other means of scaring people than washing their dirty linen?hehehe, the thought made me laugh,'dirty linen!' Ghosts have dirty linen? Maybe they tread in the darkness of the night so much that the night sheds its darkness on their clothes,huh?
Whatever, I was too scared to even try to look towards the bathroom forget about going there to check. But the thought of the darkness of the night soiling their clothes had me amused. I found myself smiling meekly at my own little joke.

Ting tong, the doorbell alarmed me and I jumped out of my skins, well, not really, but I could have done that with the sensation I felt at that sound. Had the ghost finished his work in the bathroom and wanted to ask me where to dry his clothes? Half-witted I dragged myself to the door at the second ting tong.
It was the painter my landlord had called to paint our apartment. Whew! another deep breath of relief.
"I finished my work in the bathroom and now would like to......" Before he could conclude, I laughed. Couldn't help it! I had found my ghost! I just couldn't, I mean didn't want to conceal my laughter of relief, a big relief!

Why do I keep this blog?

For few hours now I've been clicking on the BLOGYUL_BLOGGING BHUTAN page in facebook, reading every comment after Mr. Basnet's plea to stop sending him notifications from this group. When I read the first comment I was wide eyed with no sense of proper reasoning, "I almost blurted out, why is he complaining? What harm can a notification do? I mean its not necessary we have to read everything that we are notified about." (This is solely my justification and not intended to preach to any person living or dying. Or dead?)But then people started making the response I wanted to shout.
 I was added by one of my friend who is an ardent blogging fan( Thank you B, you know who I'm talking about if you are reading this) and have been truly inspired by the things I read there. Although I ensure not to leave traces of my being there for I fear to make my hoarse noise among well versed members there, I can't help clicking on the 'like' button whenever I'm totally dragged into fully inspired mood by some of the post there. I don't know Sogyel and Leoparsica, but have been reading everything posted by them both in FB and their blogs and I've become their fan with the kind of work they are finding time for despite their busy schedule(a standing ovation to both of you).
But the comments have taken a diversion from Mr. Basnet's plea to the blogger's posts.
And I diverted my thoughts too, I began asking myself, 'why do I write?' Do I write, hahahahahah, that's supposed to be a laughter right in my own face. My blog in mostly a diary as somebody mentioned in that same page in FB. Now I'm rolling in laughter, trying to raise myself on my toes to rub shoulders with other people who blog? Nah, can never dare.
But of recent times I've found myself entering my blog page and trying to fill it up...again the same question, why? I go back to 2009 December. After joining Nopkin.com I felt this extraordinary urge to try my hand in writing. Then on impulse owing to reasons my heart knows, I striped my posts from Nopkin.com ( hope ata Nopkin has forgiven me for that blunder) and I had nowhere to go. The itch to write still lingered and then this idea of creating my own space was seeded. Only three people from my Nopkin days followed me ( I know other people from the same followed me privately for reasons known to them,never mind, I don't have a mind to mind) and I found a solace in typing my feelings here. Whenever I needed a sanctuary from the tedious life, I buried my tears here and it helped.
So I decided to call my blog,feelings and emotions, and whenever any kind of feelings or emotions handcuffed me, it felt good to release it here. I was like in a prison cell here but I loved being in this little world where I can shed myself without any ears to listen to. I read somewhere that women need to shed their  problems and emotions, and devoid of true ears I feel this space here is the best way to cleanse my heart.
I don't write for people to read. I don't write for people to feel. Rather I write what I feel to shed the heaviness of my heart and its solitary stormy voyage.
I write about my family for they are the only people I can think of; I write about visits to places 'cos for a person like me who knows nothing about the wider world and has no interest in the political world, one can't have much say on the other issues; and yeah! I write about my childhood-hoping to relive its joyous moments; I write about my life for I don't know about other's life and last but most of the time I write about love- for I feel love is the most important feeling of all.
Phew! I hope I defended myself well. Need to join a Law school to learn the tactics of defence or maybe joining Armed force is not a bad idea. Hey! but before anything I need to join a class on literature to learn the skill of writing, BUT but but, why go anywhere when I can read various forms of literature right under the umbrella of BLOGYUL BLOGGING BHUTAN. So, here I find myself back in the same page I started with.

(P.S. Sorry Mr, Basnet, no offence meant, but seriously after those comments springing from your comment I started to seriously think of some of the issues here. But anyway, thank you for making a non-thinker like me think too).