His Holiness Lam Namkhai Ningpo is in Perth, Western Australia from 16-24 Jan 2013. Among other programs, the Rimpoche will offer Wang, Luung and Chabdro to the Bhutanese community.
The whole neighborhood was afraid of the rumor that the human head-hunter had arrived in their community. Locally, this mysterious person is called Khegpa. Parents scare away children in the name of Khegpa in order to keep them indoors. Existence of Khegpa could be a myth, rumor, or even reality. No one knows for sure.
Taw Penjo is well known in eastern Bhutan. He is popular for fraud and deceit. Despite several evidences, he is still a free man. He is known to be immune to legal prosecution because he is speculated to be a person who works for the common purpose. Legend has it that a human head should be installed inside important structures to ward away misfortunes. Ancient bridges in Bhutan are believed to have human head installed inside the foundation. This is a kind of offering to deities to protect bridges from disasters. To fulfill this quest, a Khegpa plays an important role to bring human head secretly. For this reason, people fear them.
The local community alleged Taw Penjo to be a Khegpa. He never accepted their allegations; instead, he defended his statues and tried to prosecute those people who alleged against him. Taw Penjo kept on gambling and drinking day and night without any source of income. This made people to suspect him. Even his wife agreed that something was wrong with him. She suspected some foul play when he brought home lot of money.
It was a full moon lit night. She was sleeping, and she was about to doze off but she heard some strange and unusual cry of a baby. She thought that she was dreaming. She opened her eyes, and listened carefully. She heard her baby crying. She confirmed that she wasn’t dreaming but the cry was a real one. She was worried when she could not find her two months old baby who was laid beside her. She shivered and her voice stammered.
“Taw, wai Taw…Where are you? Our baby is gone,” She cried.
“Keep quite! she would be fine. Search carefully, and keep quiet,” He commanded.
She couldn’t do anything. Her conscience froze and her mind was empty. In desperation, she rushed outside her house. With moonlight, it was partially visible. She searched around her house for her baby. She finally went behind her house, which had a small window facing a thick forest. There she saw four tall men with turbaned head, all of them wearing thick beards. She gazed carefully and saw her husband Taw passing the baby to those strangers.
“Please help. Someone help me. My husband is a real Khegpa, and he is selling my baby to those Indians,” She shrieked in desperation.
Nobody knew what happened to the baby, but few months later, she died.
It was suspected that Taw Penjo had been assigned to bring a human head for the Kurichu dam construction in 1997, which he delayed, and he attempted to give his own baby. This story is not based on evidence or narration. It is part of the rumour I heard as a child.
In Mongar Dzongkhag, Taw is popular as a cheat who borrows money and never returns. If there is no witness, he simply denies of having borrowed any money. Many people were victims of his lies and deception. There are many instances where he deceitfully traded cows belonging to many people and stole their money. For this reason, he was tagged as a crook, desperate enough to do anything for money.
One day, a group of young men were gambling. They were trying to make some easy money. Taw joined them and started to gamble too. He won several rounds when one of them asked,
“Ata Taw Penjo, I have heard that you can do anything for money, is that true?”
“Yes! Who wouldn’t do anything for money?” He replied frankly.
“Will you kill a person for money?” He made fun of him.
“That will depend upon the situation, but I am not a murderer,” Taw replied.
“Ok! Forget about killing people. Now, would you do something that is possible to do within this room?” someone provoked.
“How much money would you give?” He asked.
“If you can do what I say, I will give you 5000 Nu,” He challenged him.
The man who challenged Taw thought that he would win the bet. He was certain that Taw won’t agree to swallow a cupful of sputum collected from all of them.
“Look Taw! If you can gulp this cupful of sputum, I will give you 5000 Nu,” He ridiculed him confidently.
Taw closed his eyes, finished a cupful of sputum in a gulp, and then left the room with Nu. 5000.
I was reading a news article in Kuensel online. I had to read this particular sentence at least three times to get the meaning:
In 1987, His Majesty’s command, conveyed through his secretary, ACC officials, during the rebuttal at the Mongar court, said, reemphasised the strict order to restrain allotment of commercial plots, until the government drew up a policy and procedure, and until they were put in place.
It made made me remember a short story my Dzongkha Lopen narrated to us in primary school.
Once upon a time, a Bhutanese man journeyed to India to trade his goods with salt. Carrying his goods were five of his finest yaks. On the way, one of the yaks which had white tail, died.
When he reached India, he missed his family and began to imagine how they would be getting worried about him. So to make them not to worry, he sent a letter through someone who was going back to Bhutan.
In the letter he wrote:
Nga na tsha mey, yak nga kar shisong
Translation: I am ill. No salt. All five yaks died.
When the family read the letter, instead of giving them peace of mind, they became very worried. The yaks were only their livelihood and on hearing that they have all died, the whole family cried thinking that they had no other means to survive. But most of all, they imagined that if their father did not survive the illness they had no one to earn their bread. In short, the family was put through lots of misery after reading the fateful letter.
But after few months, the man returned home all well and healthy, his four yaks carrying loads of salt.
What he had actually written in letter was:
Nga nat-sha mey, yak nga-kar shisong
Translation: I am all fine. Yak with white tail died.
Using correct spacing between the words was all that mattered
This question really struck my mind very recently when children were abducted in broad daylight from Sarpang, that too from the heart of the town where there should have been some policemen around.
How many police and army officers are there in Bhutan? And if each army and police officer deputes a servant each (popularly known as ARTALA) to do their domestic works, do you get some idea how many security personals and the government resources are being misused or wasted this way?
The wasted or misused resources of a single Artala could be calculated in terms of their salaries, free housing and other family costs like ration quotas, free electricity and water the costs of which are borne by government, government’s share of provident fund, retirement benefits, etc.
Besides the abduction cases, there are also rampant gang fights in the heart of many towns, vehicle accidents due to over speeding, social problems like domestic violence. Are these trends not something to worry about and find solutions?
Had all the constables been used properly and fully, don’t we think such problems could be solved, or be reduced at least?
Are RBP and RBA short of manpower? No single complaint has been heard from them regarding manpower shortage whereas other agencies in the country always scream of having not enough staff or human resource.
During school hours, students are being entrusted with police jobs at pedestrian areas with noble intentions to develop strong relationships between youth and police and to enhance better understanding of social problems faced by police, and also in the name of community service. But in my feeling, it only over burdens students. They have their normal duties to study, and with this policing work, they become tired, and also have to bear stress in dealing with public. As a result they fare poorly in their studies.
Way forward: It could be better if all the army and police constables are fully utilized in the interest and benefit of nation, and not be made as servant to their bosses; do away with students as community police during school days, instead police constables should assist the students at pedestrian roads; allocate proper and fair duties among the police and army constables, example, place some constables to distant places for a maximum number of days, which may help in reducing social problems like divorce and other social problems.
Even the blunt knife can give a deadly cut
But rhythm of pain lasts forever,
Eating with meat is a sumptuous dish
That tough our boneless tongue;
But do you ever realize where this meat comes from?
We should think of someone’s death
Sinner will never find the way to nirvana
Nirvana the longest journey never trodden
The man who cut the throat of speechless animals
Never feels that he has won the battle
Never think that you are the hero among heroes
We should feel his pain in our eyes
To take the life of someone
When the knife is risen in the air
The animal must have shivered with fear
You must know the pain he felt
“Pity is like kindness to self;
Compassion feel for ever one else”.
The one who have killed in front of us
It could be your oldest mother from previous karma
Born through the void from the hardest toil
We can cut in every angle from tip to the horn
Find taste down to fill the stomach
But we can’t measure the depth of pain
When is your death?
You cannot predict what will come next
Ask this question before you raise the knife in the air
Before your knife spring to action there.
We should hear the voice of pity before the death
Every hollow of their throat is just helpless
I wish small wound can be your deadly pain
Why not for animal think about it a bit;
What will you do if that knife stuck on your neck?
Or will you be happy see your mother
Stuck under the edge of the knife?
Mercy is only the way to safe the life of another
Will you help or abandon the killings?
This slaughter can’t quench the thirst of the killer
Getting rebirth is not an easy task
Thousand years will become a night in the hell,
The mighty said!
In the hell of shortest journey ever made.
Give them a chance and let us free them from death
Give up from sleeping under the sharpened knife;
None can stop you from eating meat
But at least find the safe place from being killing.
Let’s stop eating meat
May this humble prayer reach the mysticism.
Let us safe the life of those who are dying.
We eat meat under the force of our ruthless urge for taste.
This poem is made for those who eat meat
Not necessarily those who kill with blunt knife.
LET’S STOP EATING MEAT IF YOU KNOW THE PAIN OF OTHERS
HOPE THIS POEM WILL HELP TO FIND THE WAY TO NIRVANA.
Hello all, hope all of you are well and healthy by the grace of Almighty God.
Some of you have looked for me here at Nopkin.com. One of you even emailed me concerning my whereabouts. Thank you for all your love. Let me inform you that for the last few months or so, I was into a hiding in a bunker located beneath the ground. You know why? The thing about the world ending by Dec 21, 2012 really got me. I completely believed it and I prepared myself to survive the Doomsday in the bunker and went into hiding on Dec 20, 2012.
My bunker was a dingy little room but big enough to house myself plus my food stock to last at least five years. I had stocked ten quintals of rice, five quintals of potato, 20 kilos of onions, ten kilos of salt, 100 cases of beer and some other essentials. I had also few books to read (one of the books was a potato recipe, to cook myself different potato dishes), a computer and lots of movies to watch. With this, I was prepared to survive in the bunker for five years come what may.
When the clock struck Dec 21, I woke up and said prayers for the whole morning until breakfast time. Then I had breakfast which was boiled potato with some salt and chili pickle. After breakfast, I again said prayers for all the sentient beings. Then I watched a few documentaries about 2012. In between I had fallen sleep and I dreamt about home.
I was woken up by a big crash of noise of something falling off and crashing on the floor. There went my only glass I had brought to drink beer! I would have to drink my beer with bottle, I thought to myself.
I was then convinced that that was the moment of a blazing meteoroid crashing onto the earth and the earth falling into pieces. But I was relieved that my bunker was strong enough to protect me and nothing happened to me. Pew, the crash could shake off only a glass of the shelf, I thought to myself.
Best of all, I survived!
I continued living in the bunker for few more days. I watched movies and read a lot of books. One of the books I read with great enthusiasm was the potato recipe. For the few days I lived in the bunker, I managed to follow the first recipe to cook potato curry. I thoroughly enjoyed my newfound skill and cooked myself potato curry at every meal until even my fart started to smell potato curry. Then I turned page 2 and tried a different recipe, which was Alu-Dam.
On the evening of Dec 24, I could not control my curiosity to peep outside and see what had become of my mother earth. It was difficult to make up my mind because I didn’t know what to expect. My heart started thumping. Finally I made up my mind and I slowly stooped through the tunnel.
When I reached the last door, I started hearing something like people singing. I began to imagine that aliens had completely taken over the earth and they were rejoicing. The song sound very familiar though and when I listened very carefully, I heard the faint “Jingle bells, jingle bells…” I became more curious and slowly took my eyes towards a small hole on the door. At first it was difficult to see anything. But the pupils in my eyes slowly began to dilate and I could to see lights of different colors, and of varying sizes. Many of them were bright, and few were twinkling.
I kicked the door as hard as I could and it broke open. Then I rushed outside and jumped with joy yelled on top of my lungs, WE SURVIVED!
So my fellow Nopkins and Nopkinmos, and my fellow Bhutanese in general, let us always be positive. No matter what miseries or sorrows we have to go through at the moment, we will get through at the end. Come to think of it… we have survived Fire, Storm, Earthquake, Bird flu, Swine flu, Y2K and even the 2012 Doomsday.
We will definitely survive Rupee Crunch!
May God bless us all!
I was flying back to Dhaka when on board I saw a magazine. I usually talk to people next to me or at least greet them with gentle smile. This time I was earlier. A Japanese woman who was sitting next to me had a child seemingly an abnormal one.Therefore, I didn’t. I took up a magazine and randomly flipped it. I saw The Hitch Hiking Diary. The first sentence it read; “life is about hitting the road when you are not one among the league of extraordinary flyers”. This kept me thinking for sometime, and I sure knew being in Dhaka is not being in the later. Somehow my determination to become a dentist kept me going.
It is hot today. The temperature is dreary. The beggars on the streets are all the same. Life is full of contrasts. And I am yet to find the equilibrium. Like any other day, I dressed up, put my apron on and headed for college. Lately,I have realized how noisy Dhaka can be, therefore, I didn’t forget to put in my bag my iPod and Dr. Dre along. Yes, Dhaka is noisy, and there is no doubt about it. The moment I came outta gate, the truncated noise came out of nowhere, and when I gazed my vicinity, it didn’t take me long to figure it out that it was a prayer from the mosque nearby. It is early in the morning, as bare a 6 am. Allah sure would have been happy about this. But what the hell?. Why didn’t I recognize the mosque before?
If any thing that needs to be learnt from here is this; it is a taboo, for a guy to sit in the bus without offering his seat to any girl standing, be it teenager, mother or an old grandma. I was on a recklessly driven bus today, and I mean recklessly driven, you wont know it until you come to Dhaka, and a group of boys were seated right next to a windowpane fully comfortable. Right in time, few girls came in with rushed up hush and gladly enough the guys offered seat to these girls and moved to backside which was not so comfy. Yet then again, few elderly lady came along and they again gladly offered their seat. It has been customary here. They respect woman and I very much appreciated it.
I got out from station near my college and was headed to college. Dr. Dre is still playing ample music to keep me floated, the weather not so hot in the morning. I got in the campus, and greeted few professors who very much love using their language in between lectures. Heading to the class, gonna be a pretty much of time in the lift, and I am prone to keeping away with Dr. Dre only if few whom I call pretty classmates are in way of mine.No luck today!.
Physiology lecture was going on. What the hell?. Urinary system?. Didn’t I come here to learn how to take out somebody’s teeth? God damn! It is nothing sorta what I had been imagining a dentistry course would be. Studying eleven modules in a semester. Well not to mention reproductive system and embryology. What’s going on? I don’t k now shits if somebody has a root canal infection in his teeth yet, is this class really necessary? Yes it definitely is. Dentistry, is not just about teeth, it is about almost all of your body.
Thank god we don’t have to study upper and lower extremities, otherwise, what the hell?, I nearly failed in Anatomy last semester. Dental surgery requires more time and patience to go along. Just with teeth as many of us might imagine doesn’t work. You have to study all shits be it your clitoris or the testicles for that matter.
I could see all sort of things during the lecture, I spotted seven people face-booking on their mobile while in lecture. And few others giggling and mentioning how their Eid, Ramadhan or whatever they call have had spent. God, why didn’t these people take the back seat. I could have easily gotten the notes of soft voiced madam Asma. Clearly, they wanted to show up and give what they needed an attendance, but that could have been done even being at the back seat, where they playing smart? God knows!
The next class gonna be dissection class. I would have cried enough with formalin before I come outta class. It is such an irony though, I wonder how government here thought that one hundred and forty students could fit in a ten meter square room with dissection tables all over and cadavers lying all on it. Sure, it is not smelly, but the cry from formalin pays for it. Might one ask why I don’t use goggle? Nobody here does; and it makes me odd being only me using it. and yet surgical gloves and masks. I really think Bangladeshi government needs to do better on promoting public facilities.
At a time rendezvous, I was with few locals for a hangouts. It has been long time since I didn’t play my favorite game, bowling and I called up few girls in if they could come along. We had fun together and went for dinner along with two other guys. Before I could clear the bill, they had it cleared. When telling them it was not necessary one guy said “why? I just fed you”. I was giving a wry smile before I said, “Yes, I enjoyed the dinner you fed me”. The next day, while while I was busy taking lecture notes, a friend of mine poked me and asked, “Do you have a dual pen?”. I gave him a rhetorical look before I realized he meant extra pen, and gave him one.
Another moment, guys were playing football. Like every time in my life I was not the one in the field. But I wished I was. Knows why? All guys play nothing different from what I know. A kicker box ball from a friend and everyone rushes to it. In the back of my mind, I was thinking, “common, we all passed eighth grade”. But they didn’t seem to notice it among themselves and the game went on until a girl shouted; “our keeper is the cucumber”, right sentence, but definitely not a right metaphor to use. A cucumber hangs over its creeps, a keeper catches the ball how can there be relation? Maybe she meant keeper is useless, but trust me he played his best not hovering any goals in. Maybe she could have used, our keeper is a magnet”. But who cares, I am not their English teacher and neither am I here to do critics on their mild English. We do good in classes, with professors claiming that he is better one over another. Even so, the same professor doesn’t “DELIVER” the lecture but “THROW” it to us.
Well I too know that I have to be Roman while in Rome, and I hope my time will come sooner. Still then good luck to those in Bangladesh and happy stay. It has barely been five months and already started feeling like years.
It was the cold December evening when the dusk crawled over the beautiful sky and blanketed it with glittering stars. I had my last cup of coffee and left out to chill myself in the balcony. I was listening to the song “if i die young” by brand Perry. I loved listening to music and it became imminent and the most dominant part of my life, maybe i was a teenager that’s why it turned out to be that much important to me.
I felt a chilly feeling within myself and thought it was the time to get inside and take a day off after all. But after i was staring at the stars i decided to stay a little longer. Suddenly something caught my attention, i could feel somebody huge was standing in front of me, though i couldn’t look at it face to face but i could see it through the shadow. I wasn’t dauntless enough to turn and face the what so ever thing that was taking a hell out of me, but after my body have been complete numb, i turned with all my little left courage that was also ebbing and which went down to negative level now, only to find myself as a foolish girl to have created a ghost through the little rag hanged outside the house. i couldn’t stopped feeling foolish as ever.
It was the time when, like everybody else, I use to scribble kinds and read what ever blogged at the Nopkin. One get to enjoy the every moment of emotions penned down by different individuals. Some would have scribbled of emotional rages, some humming down the sweet songs of their beloved loves, some articulately sharing the anecdotes worth taken into one’s life and others, throwing in some light-hearted jokes. It has been always a moment to take a short breath at this site. Among all these, it was far more interesting to read people showering in what-not comments at every articles and with that, ideas and information proffered. One would always find a great moment at this site. Truly, day never use to end without reading an article from the bloggers.
After years, when I go through it today, I find sea changes in the look of the nopkin (thanks to Nopkin), it has come a long way and can see the growth of bloggers here. And, even more, its great to still find some of the ardent and oldest bloggers string-attached and, reading their articles reminds me times of the college days when, sometimes would miss the class as one would be busily engrossed browsing through their articles and scribbling comments. Notwithstanding, that would also encourage one to forcefully scribble a word or two making some kind of diarification (anecdotal journal of the day) to be read by someone who would pass by. Todays’s nopkin facilitates even more with varied options to zipped in more media sources which is a convenient one to make one’s blog more eye-catchy. And, also its good to see numbers of bloggers growing which indicate Bhutanese do have talented writers who are unfortunately or fortunately veiled due to different circumstances. Nopkin provides an arena for such to unveil and groom more bloggers.
May Nopkin grow bigger!
I know that very well from my heart that you will not love me even once in your life because after trying hard for 3 years, there wasn’t any reaction from your side. I don’t understand myself, why I always cling on you even after knowing the fact that you don’t love me.
Why it is you only that gets stuck on my mind. I thought that I was moving on with my life but thinking deeply, I wasn’t moving ahead at all, really I wasn’t at all……. You are able to move on because you don’t have space for me.
Everything reminds me of you. When some strangers smile to me, I remember your smile. When I look at the stars, I remember a walk with you. When I listen to music, it reminds me of you, why it has to be you only that reminds everything.
To you, 3 years might have been nothing to you, as you might be feeling, 3 years as 3 seconds, 3 minutes and 3 days but 3 years, I waited you to love me and 3 years was something that I can’t let it go freely. I waited for you and still I do ………
Don’t know how long I have to wait for you but I will wait for you because boy! You are the one I have been waiting. Love connects me with you but you never give chance to yourself to know that, “does love really connect you with me”. If only, you thought deeply inside your heart, I am sure I would never have been alone, even in the crowd.
Will you just once listen to me, what my heart really wants to say to you, will you? You will never going to listen to my heart as you don’t feel the pain in my heart. Sometimes I blame GOD that you don’t understand my feelings and why it is you that has to be in me but I am thankful at the mean time coz GOD made me feel what is love with pain.
It was love at first sight and it remained forever sealed in my heart, your first sight was all enough to make me love you forever. Everything has change and nothing remains same but thinking of u makes all things same around me. I revealed my feelings to you but all you could say was, “its okay”. How I feel stupid of myself.
I could see myself waiting for you, when you are not there at all. When I think of you, my little heart gets pain but still then I want to keep you, as it is the heart that chooses you only. Am I really that stupid, thinking that one fine day, you would confess that you are in love with me.
I cried, cried a lot and sometimes I am unable to cry because you have never understood me. Even from three years now, I can still see your face so clearly, as if I have met you yesterday. No matter how much I have to struggle further more and get heartbroken, I am going to love you more because I have secretly learned the meaning of LOVE and you taught me about PAIN without knowing yourself. Now all I wish is that, you just understand my feelings and only if you knew, you mean…
Several circulars and notifications have been issued from time to time by the Ministry of Finance for the restriction of procurement and serving of foreign drinks (alcohols) during the official gathering like dinner and all as to cut down or minimize the cost of the government.
However, it is still seen that the most of the official dinners are accompanied by the foreign drinks without which some officers act wild against the coordinators. It not only leads to heavy expenditures but also it demoralizes the coordinators.
As to avoid unnecessary criticisms and misunderstandings from various angles and several areas, coordinators seldom had to head into unethical and unhealthy practices like adjustment of foreign alcohol bills to other food items, increasing the number of heads available during the dinner, etc.
Such circumstances not only result into unethical practices but the minds of coordinators are mentally disturbed and emotionally saddened. Occupying mind with such dirty environments also result into less productivity or poor output of the person thereby affecting the growth of national economy and happiness.
Who could be and can influence the coordinators?
In most cases officer level can be the coordinators. Officer in same level and the grade below the coordinator could not influence, advice and harass the coordinators. But the grade and level above that coordinator can.
Are those influential people unaware of the rules in force?
It’s do doubt that they are aware of rules and regulations but giving blind eyes and turning deaf ears as may be difficult to do away with legendary practices as always happened in Bhutan. And perhaps, they were also one of the committees in discussing and approving those circulars/notifications.
Writer’s note: It is just my personal opinion and perception. No intention to hurts anybody.
Her face was as bright as the morning sun, her hair silky black and her eyes sparkling like stars which made me fall for Yangchen at the very first sight. But though she was beautiful, I felt something was absent in her. Finally I discover that she never wore a smile, as if mourning someone’s death. Sometimes, along the way, I thought to tell her about of my love but I dared not.
Many days passed; still I could not share my feelings. One day, with a little help from my friends, I wrote a letter. I patiently waited for a reply but none came. I wrote time and again but she never responded. At last, I decided to give it my last shot, I wrote: “This is my last letter and if you don’t accept, I’m never going to fall in love with anyone else in my life. Even if you marry, I’ll go on loving you, I swear. Please accept me. I love you.”
One afternoon, a friend appeared at my class door with a small chit for me. On it was inscribed: “I’ve accepted your proposal” That threw me on top of the world. Thereafter we started talking to each other and grew friendly but rarely went to walks through I’d often ask her. I never saw a smile on her face even once.
One day, unexpectedly, she called me out for a walk. We went out and on that days I saw a smile on her face for the first time. She was so happy she caught my hands and we walked a long distance. We shared everything we felt. The road was silent and sky above was bright with stars. She repeatedly said that she loved me as much as I did.
Earlier, she’d spend not more than an hour with me but that night she never cared about the time. At midnight, I reached her home. I wondered why she was so happy. A few days passed without any contact between us. Then one day, missing her madly, I called her but she was out of touch. I made several calls but, as soon as I got through, she switched off her mobile. Finally, I was able to contact her through my friend’s cell phone. In a sad voice, she said that she didn’t love me anymore. She was in love with another, she said, asking me not to disturb her. I felt very sad. I called again but she refused to reply. Again, through my friend’s phone, I managed to contact her but she did not give me a chance to speak. Instead, she showered harsh words on me. “You’re no better than a beggar. Don’t try to create problem between us. I don’t love you, so don’t even dream of me and don’t try to create problem with me and my boy.”
It was the unkindest words that I felt inside me and I was bit shocked too. I tried to forget her but she was by then deeply rooted in my heart. It was not easier said than done. My friends felt for my plight and took me out sometimes. They repeated told me, “Love the one who loves you, not the one whom you love.” But for a long time I could not follow that advice. Finally, through, I succeeded.
A month later, while my mother and I were having breakfast, there was a call. Mom received it and, after listening for a few seconds, she dropped the phone saying, “Yalama kencho sum!” I asked what was wrong, and she said, “Your friend has just passed away.” Before I could say another word, she went inside to change. Again there was a call. “Oye, tell your mom to come fast; you better come too.” I recognized the voice it was Yangchen’s father. When we reached there, her Mom was sobbing very loudly. In one corner there was a butter lamp burning. Her father and younger sister were also sobbing. My Mom started crying too. I felt for Yangchen too though her harsh last words still echoed in my mind. It was time to forget and forgive. I felt like crying too but resisted. She was lying on her bed lifeless. I pulled her pillow to make her comfortable by raising her head.
Under the pillow I found a letter addressed to me.
My dear sweetheart, I rejected your letter several times in the beginning, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to give you happiness since I was suffering from blood cancer. I’ve lived in a gloomy world due to my disease, counting my days. I accepted your proposal at least just to please you. On our last date together I had terrible pain and knew that my last days were coming. Later I spoke harshly to let you erase me from your heart. Forgive me. I will love you forever. Yours Yangchen.”
That night, disturbed, I went for a walk, where we had gone before. I turned and saw her in the air waving. I thought I was hallucinating, rubbed my eyes. When I looked again, she was gone. A full moon in the middle of the sky and dark solitude were there to accompany me.
It is almost three hours after getting dark in the winter season and it is only 8:00 PM but for me the night has just started. Grabbing the cup filled at the brim with the maize brew, I took my last bottom sip to let sister collect the cup together with the plate that has been left on the floor after our dinner. The maize alcohol brew is a staple drink that we use to have with my dad served by sister to overcome the daily body pain we use to have from the hard works. As soon as I sipped down and hand over the cup to sister to be washed I check the back of the door to get the broom to sweep the floor to make bed for dad. Our one storied one room home is the place we sleep, eat and use as the store.
Making the bed ready for my dad to sleep near the warm mud oven to beat the cold, I then check the shelve above the oven for the torch batteries that I had kept it there in the morning to be recharged by the heat from the fire below during the day time. Keeping an old torch for dad near his pillow to use it when he goes to toilet, I then take the new battery for myself and then feeds into the newly bought torch. Mean time, my nephew Karma has started calling me from outside to go to their night house, where all young boys of the whole village has a particular empty house in the village to sleep together. Taking the torch and listening the guidance and programs for next day from dad, I then inform him that, I am going to join Karma who was waiting for me outside in the cold winter breeze. He understands and bids good night message to each other.
As soon as I leave the house, the night life starts then. All the young people in the village during this winter season seem to me like enjoying two different type of life during those olden days. A working life during the sun time and entertainment life during the moon time. As my nephew and I would take the path towards the house we use to sleep, we make sure that we stops at the community water tap to wash and make ourselves rid of the day long sweat smell and the dirt we would be carrying. Though the winter breeze would be strong enough to freeze us when we touch the water, our urges to get clean during the entertaining moon time help us makes feel the water hot. By the time, we finish cleaning, we would then see many flashes of torches from other side of the village which tempts us to move faster and inform their village friends waiting at the house about the night life going on the other side of the village.
About dozen of boys would then gather together every night and though all are exhausted from the day long work, we would never sleep and give our body rest, rather we start new and adventurous plans and sometimes silly activities, which make us unable to show faces in front of the village people the next morning. Though every person coming to sleep there would bring their own blanket, nobody would bring a mattress to sleep, so any friend who has more jute sacks at home would bring as a mattress so that there is something for us to sleep on. And most of the time, half of the night would be finished by playing card games keeping bet to bring local wine and maize brew the next day to drink away from home with young boy friend away from home. But, those friends whom they have enough radishes at home would bring it voluntarily to make salad during the alcohol session.
Sometimes, winter night are taken without any sleep. As it is a season for oranges, good climber friends would then have already marked the trees during the day time and then plan a robbery it during the night time. By morning, the whole house that we use to sleep would smell of oranges and the from our body too. And that is the time that responsible person like me, and few elder should interfere as middle men to settle the issue of orchard owner and us. But as a life of a boy is naughty, villager has to accept it as they also did the same before then. Sugarcane, sweet potatoes, pomegranates and peas are the main target that we use to make and those unlucky and rich orchards are the loser to this wild young guy who enjoy the time under the cover of the moon.
Frequently, the crawling of bad boys happens under the dark shadow on the windows of the other houses searching for girls. We would catch hold on little conversation from the windows if possible and manage to get in without letting anyone sense the presence, but most of the time, we would get chased away. But in return, we would hang nettle plant from the door, which in the morning, would hit the forehead with pain for those who were harsh for us during out pursuit.
Till this day, these sorts of days are very much missed and we long to get back to this time. Whenever we meet together away from home in the city with any of my friends, we cherished this passed memories during the then night life of ours.
I began blogging three years ago while I was in first year. The purpose was not defined. After a year of blogging I realize the rationale of my amateur interest. I write for the purpose. I have something to say. I have something to say to someone. I have some purpose for saying it. Information is constantly available – from other people, television, radio, newspapers, books, world wide web and many other sources and why not from my blog?
I like to work with words, using them to reconstruct my past, foresee blind alley future and bastardize current.
The journey is tough, tough and blank most of the time. It is a difficult path strewn with slippery wet leaves. I write about anything I want and the assigned topics. These are two opposite instructions for me and the common reaction to both – a big blank. I don’t have enough past experiences that I’ll pour in black and white. I don’t have gift to get mesmerize by the mesmeric beauty of nature and forecast the futile future.
I tried to remain faithful to my past experiences. Whenever I spark with my past experiences it drags my hands on the keyboard. And whenever I think to create something that is nonexistent and rhythmic it turns into poetry. And moreover writing about those and feelings helps me to learn more about me, whether or not I share with anyone else.
There are always charms and pride of writing. Just as you take one final look in the mirror to fix whatever isn’t just right before going out, I take a look at my writing to face readers. And it is finally publish to share with audiences. Reactions from audiences are diverse. They criticize weaknesses and give positive comments for improvement. A criticism of weakness without any ideas for fixing it is a negative.
Some readers which happen to be friend certainly call me to say, how nice my articles are. May be I provoked and astonished them though I feel my writing are as bland as oatmeal. It is more surprising and proud to see and grin to read few of my articles being published in few national news papers. And the biggest encouragement is when the page -views is never constant on my bl
Therefore Writing – blogging is a journey maintain through fine diary of our thoughts.
Magnificent two storeys capitol of the first year Block,
Present panoramic view of the flowing Pa-Chu.
It stands adjacent to the perennial Pa-Chu,
With vigilant eyes guarding its freedom.
I sat near window, mouth completely sealed off.
Me eyes and mind mingled with the dried up Pa-Chu.
It no more flaunted off her elegance and existence,
Not even boasted about its vociferousness like ere.
Pa-Chu’s affluences have been looted utterly,
Now, it is in the pathetic condition for sure.
All the stones and debris remained exposed clearly.
Perchance, it has grown characterless momentarily.
I feel dejected over its worst metamorphosis abruptly.
Though, I sensed its mysterious scariness often,
And heard its distraught voices growing desperate,
I, simple human being, simply gazed helplessly.
Pa-Chu flows weirdly and tiredly nowadays.
Its prestige, all overshadow by unprecedented derision.
Solitarily, I mourned over Pa-Chu’s misery,
And wish for its resuscitation anon.
None could stop her
Time just went in tarring hurry
Pouring some sadness in my heart
When to recover those broken pain
Coldness is only from winter
Nor the summer can’t be?
Since winter wind cool away my bliss.
That I have sent to her;
I know you are there before the sun set
But never to be found in the day light
Knowing what was coming
I took a run up to find thou
Put my head down
And hurtled sweep away
The last few days when hurt me
Like some athlete trapped,
Trying to sidestep grief of lone
Beside my heart that save my shone
And yet here I am again
Waiting for you to come
after four busy days
Waiting was just abandoned
and nights of minimal sleep
writing another poem of loss
The pain of longing.
The tears still came
From core heart of my lonely man
and the dreams of course
Never let me sleep in peace
Can’t resist the pain of a lonely day
Come and wipe my tear
That I have wept for you night and day.
Come back to me to share my love.
Although I am apolitical by my nature of job, however, as a concerned and responsible citizen of Bhutan, I would vote for those parties with manifestos of looking into welfare of urban people, mainly focusing on some of the following areas.
House rent: Those parties who could regulate and maintain the house rent without favoring either landlords or tenants. Current scenario and game between two parties are, despites having rules of signing the agreement between two parties and the tenant acts elaborates more on the agreement, it is always taken advantages by the landlord on outweigh demand of house. In short, the landlords are taking advantages of imbalance supply and demand for house in Thimphu, Phuntsholing, Wangdue Phodrang, and few other places.
As the tenant have no voices over landlords, some of the landlords really played dirty games as they increase the rent at anytime at any proportions and if tenant argued, they simply use the word, if u does not feel like to stay, you can leave the house and there are many who want to occupy within an hour ater you left. And the tenant difficult to find the house, the tenants are voiceless and if happened to complain to the concerned authority, I don’t think any solution will be provided in that hour/soon.
One very reason for the increase of rent by the landlords always surface is for the repayment of the loan for the house constructed. It is just my personal opinion that, the repayment of loan should not fall only on tenants and the landlords should also have other means to repay loans. It just felt like, once the loan being repaid, those tenants who occupied the spaces would be given the accommodation free of cost or at the very minimal rent.
Way forward: Whoever may be the forthcoming government may employ inspectors to look after whether the agreement has been signed or not between landlords and tenants and if not, impose penalty which is source of revenue to the Nation. Employment of inspectors enhances/create the job opportunities. The inspectors could also ask for the money receipt being issued to the tenants upon payment of rent and the money receipt being issued by the appropriate authority to curb the evasion of taxes. And if possible, the coming government should fixed a rate of house rent based on area of spaces occupied by the tenants of any category of houses keeping in mind that, from sweepers to prime minister working for the nation need to survive in town.
Proposals to shift at least two or more Ministry’s to other Dzongkhags from Thimphu: This would not only ease the over population in Thimphu. Over population in Thimphu brought so many problems: not able to provide the houses at reasonable rates, relatives of civil servants all gather in Thimphu, gang fights due to over population, so congested traffics-people or vehicles, theft cases, etc.
Way forward: The government needs to plan properly to shift few ministries to other places than Thimphu to solve so many problems. All the Ministries located in Thimphu causes uneven development of Nation and irregular opportunities to the citizens.
Opinion: I am not raising this issue as I am working in Thimphu but for the larger benefit of society as a nation. Today I am working in Thimphu, may be tomorrow I will be transferred to some remote/other places but those who remain or transfer to such costly towns will face and see same problems. Real opinion remains with big question marks; would the coming government could highlights on above two issues as majority of the elected government would be having house in Town?
My vote: If no parties has such an ideologies, it would be waste for me to vote as, “if I already have electricity and voting for the party who wants to provide electricity is a waste to me but it would be appropriate to vote by those people who does not have electricity. In my view, why to waste postal ballots or incur unnecessary expenditures by voting to wrong parties if those parties do not have ideologies suits for me; and not to affect those people who genuinely vote for the parties whose ideologies are in relevant to wants and needs of those people.”
BEST of LUCK, 2013 ElECTION.
It was in 2008 in Delhi airport when one foreigner who was about to fly to Bhutan as tourist asked me, “According to some information source, Bhutan has high per capita income as compared to some of the countries (he mentioned name of the few countries as an example but I don’t want to put here) but the payment of salary to civil servants is much less as compared to those countries. How is that link to GNH?”
Suddenly, it came into my mind that the per capita income of Bhutan could not be higher to those countries and perhaps, it could have been error made or intentionally provided to derive some benefits from other countries by Bhutan. However, I waste no time to answer his queries and it goes…
Mr. John, ours is not like other countries where poor people remain poor and the situation worsen day by day and the rich people remain rich wherein condition improves hourly. As a GNH country, Bhutan looks for equal distribution of wealth and happiness, and to bridge the gap between rich and poor. And it is the one of the ways of practicing GHN out of so many.
Coming back to your valuable enquiries, as Bhutan is developing country, there are thousands of people who could not even have basic need (under poverty line) as it could have been in so many countries when they are in developing stage. Civil servant in Bhutan is consider to have clean job and getting handsome salary as comparing to the private employees, farmers and to some extent business people.
Keeping this in mind, Bhutan provides free education and medicines, free schools and hospitals, free cost of save drinking water, smooth road, etc. to her people wherein good share of per capita income is equally divided. In this way, the high per capita income is share equally to the people of Bhutan not enjoying advantages being in hand for and by the civil servant of Bhutan. And, of course it is due to good system of government in place.
And the incomes are also spent for common purposes of the people of Bhutan as well as to the people of world by; planting trees and maintaining good coverage of forests, protecting and preserving endangered species, etc. If it succeeds in Bhutan, GNH may be renamed as GIH meaning Gross International Happiness.
As I thought of sharing more about GNH to him besides his enquiries but it was time for flight and fortunately or unfortunately we were then in different apartment wherein he was in business (wealthy) class and I was in economy (poor) class.
Look there in the evergreen forest.
Can you see the blooming dandelion foretaste?
Visualize the invisible singing bees from here.
Can you feel the rhythm of their dance without dare?
Look there in the mightiest ocean
Can you see the beautiful bright lotus blazing?
Seems the petals on august lotus are in motion.
What, if you and me dance their? Will it be amazing?
Look high up in the sky of widest memories.
Can you count how much you cry for my tricks?
Those were to distinguish your beautiful cheek adorn with tears.
Will you now cry for this joke too?
Look here in the mirror near the window.
Can you see you are in floods of tears?
I discern these tears are your tears of the afterglow.
Can we begin to hear wedding bells and cheers?