The Dandelion: When we sat down to read!

reflections on the experience of reading in public with ladakh writer’s club

By Lhundup Gyalpo

Picture this: An alpine desert forest is yet to receive its share of rain. For now, all it boasts of is an overgrowth of shrubs and thorns; dull, prickly, and urgently jostling for every nook of the forest. In a busy yet insipid corner of the parched forest, a yellow dandelion blooms silently, perky yet serene, pleasing to watch, and assuredly present.

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The Frozen Mirror

By Lhundup Gyalpo

A bunch of yellow and listless leaves rustled in a small eddy by the closed door. The wind blew in a melancholic whirl, whistling in a doleful hum. Nine thirty-two in the morning, the house was still dimly lit, bereft of light; a thick overcast kept the sun away in its sombre folds.

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