Tall and masculine, no famine
Her hair trimmed straight, neat, and short
Poorly patterned kira raised above ankle
Stands a country girl far off the vehicle and TV
She grasped the books first among fellow country folks
Lit the midnight resin under ramshackle makeshifts
Crossing deep woods and roaring rivers
Found not so cozy educational seat
Romance with text books of Shakespeare
Disciplined with cane sticks of austere Drukpa Lopen
Among first to Sherubtse –a temple of excellence
She is an able woman of her own feet now
Stories had twists and turns, harsh realities
Yet, it’s my pride and joy to write:
“You are a strong woman”
Old gift of stories wrapped in new sheets of words
It’s me your student; it’s me your brother
Wishing you a HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR SISTER
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