A question every Tibetan must ask before their mirror

Times have changed but are no longer strange. Beijing just upped the ante and called the pro democracy protesters terrorist. Hong Kong is a hair closer to becoming the next Tiananmen massacre as China warns of playing with fire and hints at military intervention. United States led by Trump has vowed to escalate trade war with China and as of now both are bleeding sea of red and flirtatious volatility in their major indexes.

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This Street has Our Name

Few years ago, when I was driving up the hills of Ithaca towards Cornell university, I stumbled upon a street name out of the blue called the Tibet Road. A quiet corner of a single lane road it was, surrounded by the usual quietness of the nature and probably punctuated by the frequent crossing of deer. But to see a road, any road regardless being named after my lost country Tibet was heartwarming to say the least.

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Born free yet imprisoned to a catalsymic history

These days I feel like I have become a thorn. Not that I revolted against the CTA nor did I disrespected HHDL in any manner, shape or form. Honestly and with all sincerity, it is far fetched for me to even imagine to revolt against our own, when we have an enemy before us eating every piece of us day by day while we are here clawing and skinning each other off.

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Violence is Not the Answer, Respect is

Seventeen years ago the world changed forever. It was the age before the birth of the disruptive iPhones that made many things obsolete and outdated. It was also the age before the birth of an enemy without a nation, before the age of ideological warfare in the modern era. I crisply remember it was one fine Tuesday morning, my day off from hectic work and I had woken up earlier only to doze back to sleep again, when a now defunct landline phone attached with wire like umbilical cord to its base started ringing mercilessly.

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Preemptive Emanation : A call of the hour

Rest assured meaning the impermanence of life, we all know that His Holiness has multiple times said that he would live up to the age of hundred and thirteen. According to the study of The Centenarian, there are almost 450000 people in the globe that are over the age of one hundred and this could very well be realistic. For us Tibetan that have been led by fourteen incarnation of the Dalai Lamas, it’s almost impossible to imagine Tibetan existence and validity without the leadership of His Holiness albeit only spiritual for now. His Holiness the Dalai Lama is a synonym to Tibet just like the sun is to the light.

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A Gardener for Humanity : Happy 83rd Birth Anniversary!

Every day when I open the pages of social media, I am always overjoyed by the current news of HH traveling tirelessly around the world preaching peace, compassion and loving kindness to filled stadiums, parks and auditoriums of schools and universities. Although his late travels to far off places from his home away from home in Dasa has been reduced significantly due to his gracefully aging health, but his dynamic polarizing presence nonetheless is embedded and wired into our hearts and minds. 

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Opinion: Bruised Sentiments

As years rolled and internet of things started disrupting the traditional markets and online marketing became a norm, crushing many brick and mortars companies to their knees, Amazon emerged bigger than ever, buying every new upstarts and investing heavily on acquisition and research & development.
Amazon became the site to go and just as profits were easily to be made, second and third parties vendors were allowed to market in their platform ultimately compromising ethics, risking principles and morality of things and  jeopardizing the company’s credibility.

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Buried Fortune Buried Dreams

This was one monsoon season, some twenty summers ago, where the hills of Darjeeling were soaked by non stop rain and surprised by sudden break of sunlight, refracting picturesque rainbows and people welcoming the sun-shower with folkloric songs of the foxes marriages. The fresh crystal rain drops from the washed green needles of the pine trees dip and where flash floods across the other side of hill, erupts into sudden waterfalls, a sight everyone, every time of this year yearns to see from my side of the village called Bhutia Busti.

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