flying roofs

Punakha Dzong in Western Bhutan which sites on the confluence of two rivers seems to rise out of the water like a ghostly galleon.The trees trees that line the fringe of the imposing white and brick coloured structure crowned with glided pagoda roofs are covered with the bloom of purple flowers giving it a surreal air.Indeed the history of the winter capital of the little Himalayan Kingdom,Punakha and its Dzong is woven in the legends and folklore of the country. Punakha is 77 kms or 3 hrs.drive across the twisting mountain roads,from the Capital city,Thimphu. To travel to Punakha all foreign nationals need special permit.

Little Jithu was only two years when we were in Nagaland.one fine day my husband bought a new doormat.Little Jithu was so exited by its design and colour. on the very evening,one of Jithu's uncles,named Babu visited us.It was 7.30 pm,when Babu was about to leave. Little jithu held his hand and said,"Uncle, please stay for dinner." Hhmmm,your mother has taught you a lot of formalities...good",Babu said with a smile. "No uncle.little Jithu replied suddenly,"it is not formality,its doormat and bought not by mother but father". We all looked each other and broke into laughter.

Faces fall apart haunted by wounded smiles the craze and desire of bearing unknown imprints were torn when lost inbetween similes and metaphors and the ceramic heart is broken.... neither smile nor cry, the profond willingness of my black ash-blond night may disappear... your dark eyes,half dead glowing with new hopes no existance either you or I.... only our shadows....