When Xi and Modi meet to meet their national interest When both leaders shared each other a strategic smiles I couldn’t stop thinking about the outcry of our arrested activists I couldn’t stop thinking about the signatures the students are forced to sign.
When communist China continues to control Tibet, When the CCP continues to be oppressive and aggressive against Tibetans, I couldn’t stop standing in solidarity and unity with my countrymen I couldn’t stop speaking out the truth about tragedies behind the bars
When the freedom fighters raise their fist high and low When activists outcry their agony against the enemy I held my head high to the height of my forefather’s spirit I held my heart out to speak up for those who are silenced
When the Dhauladhar range covered and capped with snowflakes, When the cold winter winds waved and washed by my side, I can feel the freshness of a far distance homeland I can feel the warmth of a home hiding behind those Himalayas
The grasses must have grown greener Trees must haven’t turned into timbers The mountains must have not been mined Rivers must be running in its natural flow Rivulet must have been cooler and cleaner The monks and monasteries must have been in peace Their prayers must have been a little louder Their voice must have not been in hoarseness The Potala palace must have held its height little higher Bakor street must have its own essence The song of the sixth Dalai Lama must be singing on the street The son of snow land must not have been singing his song in silent He must not have been running and roaming for freedom He must be having his loved ones by his side
“I am too tired of coming here time again and again to see those marvelous mountains and trying to figure out the beautiful things buried behind the boundaries of those high standing Himalayas. Now my eyes are aching and couldn’t see the scenes of the far sight. My legs are limping and couldn’t walk far too long. I am worried to walk and cross them to go back to the home, which is close to my heart.”
Home? Ask me not It hurts me so often It’s not either a place or space Where I sleep Not at all a street or school Where I walk It’s there Where my heart hovers and hovers Until its get hurt It’s there Where I sleep so sound As if I have no tomorrow It’s there Where I walk and talk As if I own every piece of land It’s there Only there in my dream And I dream so often
“The economy dominates the world so much that everybody chooses to buy the cheap Chinese Chow Mein (Chinese cuisine) and when it comes to the human rights issues, they are shocked and chocked with Chinese chopsticks.”