Phuntsho Wangchuk is currently working as an English Teacher at one of the High Schools in the central part of Bhutan, the Himalayan country. He is an aspiring and budding poet, born on 17th August 1983 in the central-eastern part of the country. In 2009, he graduated from Paro College of Education, one of the two teacher-training institutes in the country. He loves reading and writing poems and songs that mirror the mundane lives and mindsets. At times, he gets absorbed and lost in observing and interacting with Mother Nature, so is he, an undaunted bosom-friend of nature. Most of his poems are enveloped by modern Odes and Shakespearean Sonnets apart from Satires and Elegies. He’s an undying and unwavering dream to flower into a full-time poet despite the stumbling blocks that he encounters on his way.
No, no! clutch me not, please!
Untie my wings with an ease!
I don’t wanna pine and pain here
In the vast sea of frets and fear.
Half of my dear life here, I wasted,
Patiently all sorts of pain I tasted!
Every day I was tortured, I was torn
By anguish every night, every morn.
Birth precedes death! Old ages new!
Hatred rots love! More becomes few!
Rich falls poor! Mistrust ruins the foy!,
And joy in the hands of wealth is a toy!
One has wishes! One has dreams!
He toils for years in painful screams,
Roasting his flesh, boiling his blood;
But only to be foiled by failing flood.
O! What’s an answer without a query?
Can laughter be without fun or merry?
One is punished by oneself in pain-
Not for crime, but in pursuit of gain.
Oh my God! Untrap me! Let me go!
I’m drunk with every pain that I know!
I’m tired! Now I want joy! I want ecstasy!
So I wanna flee to my world of fantasy.
I Can See a Jewel in Her Eyes
She’s a dust in the eyes of society!
She’s a widow! An ostracized widow!
Surviving in her shaky, tottering hut;
She’s a trash discarded by the world;
And unfriended by her neighbours.
Amidst pains and pangs she wheezes;
Despair clouds her, drenched in tears!
Disgraced by freedom, betrayed by joy,
She suffocates! Socially stigmatized!
She’s a victim of feminine weakness.
For kindness, or just a streak of smile,
She runs to and fro, up and down;
She shouts at her friends and fellows
But only to deafen and blind the air:
All their doors are locked from inside.
Heart swollen, eyes reddened by pain;
Monsoon tears flood down her cheeks;
With benumbed nerves and torn voice,
She again calls them, she calls God;
Yet only to drown down in depression.
Now she picks up her tears to make elixir;
She weaves joy with her agonized pain;
She paints hope with every bit of despair;
She hoards her failures to build success;
Thus I say, I can see a jewel in her eyes!
Oh lovely Moon! Can I steal your beauty?
You smile with your elegant brightness;
You wear the blazing beams which I don’t,
To exquisitely glorify the sullen darkness
And make me cast on you my envious eyes.
Gosh! Let me not compare myself to you;
Lest I’d flood with my monsoon shame;
For I’m born here with stinking flaws,
Partnered by hungry illness and death
That always gape out to swallow my life.
But in you, hardly I can see a trace of error;
Nor you ever fall a prey to fatal diseases.
Rather, you glow with commanding pose
And grow every eve with an added charm
That only crazes me to steal your splendor.