A HOPE

Every day I wake up with a hope,
Every night I sleep with a prayer,
Every new year I greet with a smile,
Hoping the sun will shine soon
Everyday monk prayers chanted aloud
Everyday an old man marches step ahead
To reach in time to his homeland
Everyday an old woman knead rosary with her thumb
With a hope to sleep in the lap of snowy mountain
Every autumn the wind blew
To take my messages to my people.

SECRET

Secret by Sonam Tsomo

I grew up in this small room in exile
Eight people, four bed
Our home in exile is not actually a home
But more of a guest house

As we are not in our land
Not an inch to call mine
The walls are not strong enough to protect me
And the tin roof complains when it rains

Often I ask my mother about Tibet
And she would tell me the untold stories lies behind the Himalayas
Sometimes she weeps but I fail to understand why?

My mother, I watched my mother as she lay prostrate
Her missing teeth and wrinkled face.
Her eyes are closed when she prays
As if she is expecting too much.
She cries when she laughs.

She has been through the pain of losing her country
Losing her loved ones
And the pain of never seeing them again.

Once she had a home in Tibet,
The forbidden land she left behind.
I know she is in great pain,
But I wonder how easily
She swallowed the grief.

I know my mother’s secret of hiding her pain:
The deep sigh and the pauses when she talks…
But I won’t complain:
She is a hero because she survives.

I know all her secrets
Of her Crying in the rain.
She is getting smaller every year
Her hair turns greyer every season,

Coming from the Himalayas
Walking on her bare feet
I know my mother’s secret
Of wearing those torn shoes.
But I won’t complain
She is a hero because she survived.

RAY OF HOPE…..

I know a place, warm and dark
Far away from the reach of evil world
You are safe, don’t be afraid
I keep revolving around you

Every morning, from that hole, the sun will shine
Nightingales will sing sweet songs
Every night, from that hole, the moon will give you light
The owl will keep an eye on you…don’t be afraid


The owl will keep an eye on you…don’t be afraid
Every night, from that hole, the moon will give you light
Nightingales will sing sweet songs
Every morning, from that hole, the sun will shine

I keep revolving around you
You are safe, don’t be afraid
Far away from the reach of evil world
I know a place, warm and dark

WAITING LIST

I hate to open my eyes in exile home
I hate to got to bed in exile home
the walls are not strong enough to protect me
and the tin roof complains when it rains
I am tired of being a stateless citizen
I want to live a life with no fear
but how can i console my soul
the fear of losing my identity
losing my country,my people
I am tired of sharing my loneliness
in the starless night and honestly
I'm tired of living a life like this
with no country....no recognition

peace
sonam tsomo

TABOO

“There’s no greater pain than the loss of one’s own country”

It’s my saddest part that I have never been to Tibet; I was born in northern part of India and my parents were forced to flee Tibet, my father was a very brave person but alas! When I was in 7th grade, my father passed away like a blowing wind without leaving any further address. In India, we live in a very small house and we are eight children and I know how hard it was for my mother to look after us but I guess she is a strong women as she have faced many obstacles on her way from Tibet to India….but I used to imagine myself in Tibet with green grass, high mountains and yaks….and I was happy in that world of mine but as I grew up I faced the real world and the real Tibet, makes my heart break into pieces…

I have lived a life of refugee and we have to renew our passport every year in Indian registration office with a smile….I know how hard it is for us to go through that situation and I have my father’s family in Tibet whom we have never seen and I remember many years back that we were told that our father’s sister’s son died…but its sad for us, at least for me to react on that situation, of course there is a feeling of sadness but it hurts more knowing that we had not met each other….and what is left for us to do is except some prayers….and the worst part is that you’ve never met your relatives.
Honestly speaking, even though I was born in India and we have no country I' m still proud to be a Tibetan, proud to be a follower of H.H.THE DALAI LAMA and LONG LIVE HIS HOLINESS THE DALAI LAMA.
Now, the situation in Tibet is getting worst every second, In Tibet the Tibetans are not allowed to speak our language and most of the teenage girls are working as prostitutes…..they are forced to do this to survive and to feed their families….how could we blame them? In Tibet they are living a life of threat under Chinese regime….and I want to make it clear that when i say Chinese I don't mean the Chinese people, it is the government and we are not against Chinese people.


Now, what I am afraid of is Tibet becoming a taboo…and gradually Tibet will remain as just a name….I am afraid of losing myself and the rich culture of Tibet.

BEHIND THE HIMALAYAS…

My mother told me, it’s cold behind Himalayas,
She is forgetting the view as her hair turns gray.
I try to find traces of her footprints.
She is hibernating in her old age.

Behind the hill are her endless stories,
Not found in any library.
There's a hollow feeling in my mother's heart,
Where the wind blows into her emptiness.

Her stories crouch in the cold.
The bell of memory clangs around her.
I'm my mother's Saint Teresa,
Writing her worries and stories down...