Fiction book and Mosquitos.


It is 1:25 am, almost midnight, just after half hour before, I said good night on Facebook to one of my close friend. I am in bed and was watching a video on , it was Peen, (sorry I don’t remember her first name). who was talking on that video, guiding how to write to new writer.

Actually I like her for her skilful instruction, it was full of gift to me. After I closed the safari and tried to sleep but my mind is imagining something other, how it could be like? if I write a fiction, if so then what kind of subject I shall choose? I am not ready to answer for this.

Whatever, I picked the phone, opened the note, started to write what you are reading now. I am going to write a fiction. As a monk I am quite not suite able to write whatever write in my mind. So I am thinking to write what kind of subject is suit for me. If you are here with me, I would ask you what shall I write, but it is not like that.

What kind of that sound is? A very sharp, tiny and clear sound I am hearing now, sometimes I comes so close to my ear and goes back little far. Actually I know what kind of that sound is. It is Mosquitos flying sound.

Mosquitos are compassionateless, oh compassionateless word underlined with red, I might spelled wrong,……………oh sorry for being patient for a minute, I searched in dictionary to check what is the word for snying je med pa(Tibetan) in English, I found it , compassionless, it is correct, not underlined with red this time.

So I am going to continue, Mosquitos are compassionless, they disturb my inner peace, landed on my face, putting their sharp needle mouth in my skin. Aaarrrrraaa, angrily I rise my hand to press the Mosquitos,

“oh man, you cannot do this, you are a monk, you have vowed not to kill any being, don’t you have a little compassion to this poor Mosquitos? Just for making you annoying, are you going to take its life? What kind of monk you are? The real compassionless is you.”

One after another, so many question is being asking in my core mind. “Oh, yes, you are right. I shall not do this.”

I answer myself and pull back my hand, covering me with blanket. “Sorry Mosquitos, I am going to sleep”. I think I should sleep now, don’t worry I am going to publish it on my blog to read you.

I will shout windows before it gets dark from tomorrow, in hoping with won’t get disturb from Mosquitos and I can write my fiction with full mindfulness. Good night.


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