Thursday, December 1, 2011

postheadericon Riku Dhan Subba's Blog: You all are my Heroes!

Riku Dhan Subba's Blog: You all are my Heroes!: Dear Wangda, Pema, Sithu and two others, Last evening at 6:30 when Dawa came live on BBS TV, I shivered uncontrollably. I was n...
Wednesday, November 23, 2011

postheadericon My Wishes...


I would like to wish all the bloggers and members of Blogyul the Happy World Best friend Day.
Monday, November 21, 2011

postheadericon Bhutan and Climate Change.



“The days are getting hotter and hotter.” My village folks use to complain while they work in the field or ferry their farm products to the nearby roads, and they say it is due to the sun, which they believe is growing larger is size year after year. For that matter, I, being a student who have studied geography and having learnt that Himalayas are the ...
                                                                                           Read More............................. 


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Tuesday, November 15, 2011

postheadericon Riku Dhan Subba's Blog: Letter to my father

Rikku Dhan Subba writes a letter to his dad back in village. its a wonderful satirical letter which is full of reality that of which many of us are part of in one way or the other.

Read more here Riku Dhan Subba's Blog: Letter to my father: Dear Apa, I hope all of you’re doing well without any sickness and problem in the village. My ...
Monday, October 31, 2011

postheadericon iamDrukpa: There’s No Limit To Greed

iamDrukpa: There’s No Limit To Greed
Thursday, October 27, 2011

postheadericon FROM A TEACHER'S P.O.V: Bhutan is a Shangri-la and a heaven on earth

FROM A TEACHER'S P.O.V: Bhutan is a Shangri-la and a heaven on earth

postheadericon And there's more to life: His Majesty's audience in Delhi Embassy

And there's more to life: His Majesty's audience in Delhi Embassy: Under the shattering sky That roared with colourful lights We waited for the arrival of a king Hundre...
Wednesday, October 26, 2011

postheadericon Three Historic Events of My Life;

Born in the mythical land of Palden Drukpa, becoming part of national events be it small or big is a biggest privilege for me.

Adorned with the lofty Himalayan peaks each wrapped with crystalline flakes of ethereal beauty the country is deeply steeped in the doctrines of Vajrayana Dharma. The inhabitants have long been acquainted with various values of loyalty, gratitude and unity, 
                        to read more click HERE-------> 




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Saturday, October 15, 2011

postheadericon And there's more to life: A kiss to a queen, With Love from the king

And there's more to life: A kiss to a queen, With Love from the king: Not so much though Like a knight On a galloping horse Takes away the princess And fills her dreams With f...
Saturday, October 1, 2011

postheadericon The Secret of Water | Gaiam Life

The Secret of Water | Gaiam Life:

'via Blog this'
Friday, September 23, 2011

postheadericon And there's more to life: Blogyul Magazine on Blessed Rainy Day

And there's more to life: Blogyul Magazine on Blessed Rainy Day: Happy blessed Rainy day. Hope every one of you will have a wonderful time today. As for me, i have marked the day with the online publishin...
Tuesday, September 20, 2011

postheadericon Rikku Dhan Subba's Blog: A beautiful heart

Rikku Dhan Subba's Blog: A beautiful heart: How many of you ever thought of donating your organs for other? Or have you ever come across any such person? Let me introduce you her...

postheadericon Penstar: Promoting What is Ours

Penstar: Promoting What is Ours: Daga Trashi Yangste Dzong “What are three aspects that you think distinguish Bhutan from other countries in the region,” a visitor once ...
Monday, September 19, 2011

postheadericon Leythro- the Continuity of Fate: Need of Conservation for Development.


Developmental activities has picked up its full pace in our country particularly during the 10th Five Year Plan. As mega projects like the commencement of biggest hydroelectric projects like the Punatsangchhu I and II, Mangdechhu and of course the upcoming 4,060 MW Sankosh project, estimated to cost more than....
                                                     
                                                                                                                                      Read More...,



Thursday, September 15, 2011

postheadericon Rikku Dhan Subba's Blog: Citizenship

Rikku Dhan Subba's Blog: Citizenship:
The essay below won me the second prize in the non-fictional essay writing competition organized by the Bhutan Centre for Media and Democracy.....................................
                                                                                                             Read more..., 


postheadericon loteY's : straight from the heart: Being a citizen

loteY's : straight from the heart: Being a citizen: :) my this essay won the best entry for "Beyond the Ballot" Challenge ( bagging me 10,000 Ngultrun cash prize plus a certificate), Celeb...
Monday, September 12, 2011

postheadericon And there's more to life: Not so long ago, Apple and Blackberry were just fr...

And there's more to life: Not so long ago, Apple and Blackberry were just fr...: Not so long ago, there wasn’t any technology. Everything that man interacted with or involved with was a traditional style right from clothi...

postheadericon Maid of Astolat: Graduates!

When I think of the last time I wrote anything it makes me shudder to remember that it was almost 3 months ago. Clich√© as it may sound, I couldn't write because I was busy contemplating the course of my life. Realy I was! I graduated last month, you see. And if you know me, you would know I was deciding whether I should come back and search for a job or extend my stay and continue for another year. 
                                                                                                                        
                                                                                                Read More..,









Sunday, September 11, 2011

postheadericon And there's more to life: Running out of inspirations and not wanting to qui...

And there's more to life: Running out of inspirations and not wanting to qui...: In last one and half years, I have tried writing on so many various topics. Whether it is educational, political or even personal reminisce...
Wednesday, August 31, 2011

postheadericon If I Go Extinct I Swear I Will Take As Many Humans With Me As I Can | The Onion - America's Finest News Source

If I Go Extinct I Swear I Will Take As Many Humans With Me As I Can | The Onion - America's Finest News Source:

'via Blog this'
Tuesday, August 30, 2011

postheadericon Buddha Buzz: The Monk, The Elephant, and the Monkey | Tricycle

Buddha Buzz: The Monk, The Elephant, and the Monkey | Tricycle:

'via Blog this'

postheadericon A Reflection of Mind | Tricycle

A Reflection of Mind | Tricycle:

'via Blog this'
Friday, August 19, 2011

postheadericon And there's more to life: A king and the Beggar

And there's more to life: A king and the Beggar

postheadericon writings on the rock: a cliche that works to our advantage

writings on the rock: a cliche that works to our advantage: For a poor man, who comes begging at your door every other day, wearing a red scarf pretending at his best to look like a ‘gomchen’, lispi...

postheadericon PaSsu Diary- Journal of an Ordinary Bhutanese: Jigme's Surprise Morning Speech

PaSsu Diary- Journal of an Ordinary Bhutanese: Jigme's Surprise Morning Speech
Monday, August 15, 2011

postheadericon Alone! I am Not.

Living in   a room bounded by four walls of lustrous white, the radiations of sun never penetrated the opaque wall and reached the leaf of my gloomy life. Without the sunlight, there is no photosynthesis so the entire physiology of life is disturbed. The leaf is prone to wither but no worry, my room has two windows, through which I can see the bright sun illuminating the entire world. I am satisfied now. At least the world will be lush and vigorous.  The windows show me the entire world; it is an eye opener to me, my best companion so I am not alone.

Read More....



 

postheadericon And there's more to life: From my Status Bank in Faceboook

And there's more to life: From my Status Bank in Faceboook: "Ever since I joined Facebook , I have been always updating my status whether there is something I real..."
Sunday, August 14, 2011

postheadericon And there's more to life: My day out in Zoo

And there's more to life: My day out in Zoo
Saturday, August 13, 2011

postheadericon Lekey Wangdi: Butterfly- IV

Lekey Wangdi: Butterfly- IV

postheadericon Song of the Sausage Creature by Hunter S. Thompson



There are some things nobody needs in this world, and a bright-red, hunch-back, warp-speed 900cc cafe racer is one of them - but I want one anyway, and on some days I actually believe I need one. That is why they are dangerous.
Everybody has fast motorcycles these days. Some people go 150 miles an hour on two-lane blacktop roads, but not often. There are too many oncoming trucks and too many radar cops and too many stupid animals in the way. You have to be a little crazy to ride these super-torque high-speed crotch rockets anywhere except a racetrack - and even there, they will scare the whimpering shit out of you... There is, after all, not a pig's eye worth of difference between going head-on into a Peterbilt or sideways into the bleachers. On some days you get what you want, and on others, you get what you need.

When Cycle World called me to ask if I would road-test the new Harley Road King, I got uppity and said I'd rather have a Ducati superbike. It seemed like a chic decision at the time, and my friends on the superbike circuit got very excited. "Hot damn," they said. "We will take it to the track and blow the bastards away."

"Balls," I said. "Never mind the track. The track is for punks. We are Road People. We are Cafe Racers."
The Cafe Racer is a different breed, and we have our own situations. Pure speed in sixth gear on a 5000-foot straightaway is one thing, but pure speed in third gear on a gravel-strewn downhill ess-turn is quite another.
But we like it. A thoroughbred Cafe Racer will ride all night through a fog storm in freeway traffic to put himself into what somebody told him was the ugliest and tightest decreasing-radius turn since Genghis Khan invented the corkscrew.
Cafe Racing is mainly a matter of taste. It is an atavistic mentality, a peculiar mix of low style, high speed, pure dumbness, and overweening commitment to the Cafe Life and all its dangerous pleasures... I am a Cafe Racer myself, on some days - and it is one of my finest addictions.

I am not without scars on my brain and my body, but I can live with them. I still feel a shudder in my spine every time I see a picture of a Vincent Black Shadow, or when I walk into a public restroom and hear crippled men whispering about the terrifying Kawasaki Triple... I have visions of compound femur-fractures and large black men in white hospital suits holding me down on a gurney while a nurse called "Bess" sews the flaps of my scalp together with a stitching drill.
Ho, ho. Thank God for these flashbacks. The brain is such a wonderful instrument (until God sinks his teeth into it). Some people hear Tiny Tim singing when they go under, and some others hear the song of the Sausage Creature.
When the Ducati turned up in my driveway, nobody knew what to do with it. I was in New York, covering a polo tournament, and people had threatened my life. My lawyer said I should give myself up and enroll in the Federal Witness Protection Program. Other people said it had something to do with the polo crowd.

The motorcycle business was the last straw. It had to be the work of my enemies, or people who wanted to hurt me. It was the vilest kind of bait, and they knew I would go for it.
Of course. You want to cripple the bastard? Send him a 130-mph cafe-racer. And include some license plates, he'll think it's a streetbike. He's queer for anything fast.
Which is true. I have been a connoisseur of fast motorcycles all my life. I bought a brand-new 650 BSA Lightning when it was billed as "the fastest motorcycle ever tested by Hot Rod magazine." I have ridden a 500-pound Vincent through traffic on the Ventura Freeway with burning oil on my legs and run the Kawa 750 Triple through Beverly Hills at night with a head full of acid... I have ridden with Sonny Barger and smoked weed in biker bars with Jack Nicholson, Grace Slick, Ron Zigler and my infamous old friend, Ken Kesey, a legendary Cafe Racer.

Some people will tell you that slow is good - and it may be, on some days - but I am here to tell you that fast is better. I've always believed this, in spite of the trouble it's caused me. Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube. That is why God made fast motorcycles, Bubba....
So when I got back from New York and found a fiery red rocket-style bike in my garage, I realized I was back in the road-testing business.

The brand-new Ducati 900 Campione del Mundo Desmodue Supersport double-barreled magnum Cafe Racer filled me with feelings of lust every time I looked at it. Others felt the same way. My garage quickly became a magnet for drooling superbike groupies. They quarreled and bitched at each other about who would be the first to help me evaluate my new toy... And I did, of course, need a certain spectrum of opinions, besides my own, to properly judge this motorcycle. The Woody Creek Perverse Environmental Testing Facility is a long way from Daytona or even top-fuel challenge-sprints on the Pacific Coast Highway, where teams of big-bore Kawasakis and Yamahas are said to race head-on against each other in death-defying games of "chicken" at 100 miles an hour....

No. Not everybody who buys a high-dollar torque-brute yearns to go out in a ball of fire on a public street in L.A. Some of us are decent people who want to stay out of the emergency room, but still blast through neo-gridlock traffic in residential districts whenever we feel like it... For that we need Fine Machinery.
Which we had - no doubt about that. The Ducati people in New Jersey had opted, for some reasons of their own, to send me the 900ss-sp for testing - rather than their 916 crazy-fast, state-of-the-art superbike track-racer. It was far too fast, they said - and prohibitively expensive - to farm out for testing to a gang of half-mad Colorado cowboys who think they're world-class Cafe Racers.

The Ducati 900 is a finely engineered machine. My neighbors called it beautiful and admired its racing lines. The nasty little bugger looked like it was going 90 miles an hour when it was standing still in my garage.
Taking it on the road, though, was a genuinely terrifying experience. I had no sense of speed until I was going 90 and coming up fast on a bunch of pickup trucks going into a wet curve along the river. I went for both brakes, but only the front one worked, and I almost went end over end. I was out of control staring at the tailpipe of a U.S. Mail truck, still stabbing frantically at my rear brake pedal, which I just couldn't find... I am too tall for these new-age roadracers; they are not built for any rider taller than five-nine, and the rearset brake pedal was not where I thought it would be. Mid-size Italian pimps who like to race from one cafe to another on the boulevards of Rome in a flat-line prone position might like this, but I do not.

I was hunched over the tank like a person diving into a pool that got emptied yesterday. Whacko! Bashed on the concrete bottom, flesh ripped off, a Sausage Creature with no teeth, fucked-up for the rest of its life.
We all love Torque, and some of us have taken it straight over the high side from time to time - and there is always Pain in that... But there is also Fun, the deadly element, and Fun is what you get when you screw this monster on. BOOM! Instant take-off, no screeching or squawking around like a fool with your teeth clamping down on our tongue and your mind completely empty of everything but fear.

No. This bugger digs right in and shoots you straight down the pipe, for good or ill.
On my first take-off, I hit second gear and went through the speed limit on a two-lane blacktop highway full of ranch traffic. By the time I went up to third, I was going 75 and the tach was barely above 4000 rpm....
And that's when it got its second wind. From 4000 to 6000 in third will take you from 75 mph to 95 in two seconds - and after that, Bubba, you still have fourth, fifth, and sixth. Ho, ho.

I never got to sixth gear, and I didn't get deep into fifth. This is a shameful admission for a full-bore Cafe Racer, but let me tell you something, old sport: This motorcycle is simply too goddamn fast to ride at speed in any kind of normal road traffic unless you're ready to go straight down the centerline with your nuts on fire and a silent scream in your throat.
When aimed in the right direction at high speed, though, it has unnatural capabilities. This I unwittingly discovered as I made my approach to a sharp turn across some railroad tracks, saw that I was going way too fast and that my only chance was to veer right and screw it on totally, in a desperate attempt to leapfrog the curve by going airborne.

It was a bold and reckless move, but it was necessary. And it worked: I felt like Evel Knievel as I soared across the tracks with the rain in my eyes and my jaws clamped together in fear. I tried to spit down on the tracks as I passed them, but my mouth was too dry... I landed hard on the edge of the road and lost my grip for a moment as the Ducati began fishtailing crazily into oncoming traffic. For two or three seconds I came face to face with the Sausage Creature....

But somehow the brute straightened out. I passed a schoolbus on the right and got the bike under control long enough to gear down and pull off into an abandoned gravel driveway where I stopped and turned off the engine. My hands had seized up like claws and the rest of my body was numb. I felt nauseous and I cried for my mama, but nobody heard, then I went into a trance for 30 or 40 seconds until I was finally able to light a cigarette and calm down enough to ride home. I was too hysterical to shift gears, so I went the whole way in first at 40 miles an hour.

Whoops! What am I saying? Tall stories, ho, ho... We are motorcycle people; we walk tall and we laugh at whatever's funny. We shit on the chests of the Weird....

But when we ride very fast motorcycles, we ride with immaculate sanity. We might abuse a substance here and there, but only when it's right. The final measure of any rider's skill is the inverse ratio of his preferred Traveling Speed to the number of bad scars on his body. It is that simple: If you ride fast and crash, you are a bad rider. And if you are a bad rider, you should not ride motorcycles.

The emergence of the superbike has heightened this equation drastically. Motorcycle technology has made such a great leap forward. Take the Ducati. You want optimum cruising speed on this bugger? Try 90mph in fifth at 5500 rpm - and just then, you see a bull moose in the middle of the road. WHACKO. Meet the Sausage Creature.
Or maybe not: The Ducati 900 is so finely engineered and balanced and torqued that you *can* do 90 mph in fifth through a 35-mph zone and get away with it. The bike is not just fast - it is *extremely* quick and responsive, and it *will* do amazing things... It is like riding a Vincent Black Shadow, which would outrun an F-86 jet fighter on the take-off runway, but at the end, the F-86 would go airborne and the Vincent would not, and there was no point in trying to turn it. WHAMO! The Sausage Creature strikes again.

There is a fundamental difference, however, between the old Vincents and the new breed of superbikes. If you rode the Black Shadow at top speed for any length of time, you would almost certainly die. That is why there are not many life members of the Vincent Black Shadow Society. The Vincent was like a bullet that went straight; the Ducati is like the magic bullet in Dallas that went sideways and hit JFK and the Governor of Texas at the same time.
It was impossible. But so was my terrifying sideways leap across the railroad tracks on the 900sp. The bike did it easily with the grace of a fleeing tomcat. The landing was so easy I remember thinking, goddamnit, if I had screwed it on a little more I could have gone a lot farther.

Maybe this is the new Cafe Racer macho. My bike is so much faster than yours that I dare you to ride it, you lame little turd. Do you have the balls to ride this BOTTOMLESS PIT OF TORQUE?
That is the attitude of the new-age superbike freak, and I am one of them. On some days they are about the most fun you can have with your clothes on. The Vincent just killed you a lot faster than a superbike will. A fool couldn't ride the Vincent Black Shadow more than once, but a fool can ride a Ducati 900 many times, and it will always be a bloodcurdling kind of fun. That is the Curse of Speed which has plagued me all my life. I am a slave to it. On my tombstone they will carve, "IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME."

Buy the ticket ... take the ride. >>

postheadericon Auspicious gift from Samtengang Lake

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

postheadericon Off the Tourist Trail

postheadericon Porky Pie: Discovering myself big

Porky Pie: Discovering myself big

postheadericon sarah's: Adieu Granny

Sunday, July 31, 2011

postheadericon Chath Dorji, the phallic man of Shingkhar

"The cane like phallus and a broken bell is all I have inherited from my parents. Folks, especially the infertile ones, believe in my blessings. I can tell  with the conviction that I can be a husband for your daughter..."


         

 If not thousand, I am definitely more than 700 years old. I have lived all my life here in Shingkhar. Geographically speaking I belong to a brokpa family because Shingkhar is some 3800 meters above the sea level. I am Chath Dorji of Shingkhar. I am not so sure where I descended from, but my neighbors and friends consider me as holy person. My role in my native place is a seasonal one. I have a role to play only in the tenth month in Bhutanese calender. That is when the drum of  five day Shingkhar Rabney starts beating. I come with my sons to join the crowd in offering butter lamps and other available stuffs to our local guardian deity, the Goenpo Mani NakpoLhamo, Yeedam, Yakseng and other countless deities and most important of all, Me me Ragula. That is why I pray and work hard for the harvest in Golaipang  to be bountiful  year after year.




You can read the full article at here. Thank you.
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