Skip to main content

Living and Leaving Lhuentse: My short stint in place of seated pigeon

“Every Meeting must end in Departure” there is no denying of the statement. Just when I’m getting to know the people around and put myself in their shoes, here is another call from the destiny – that I must again venture into the destiny yet unknown. Perhaps this time around, it is in my favour. I won’t say I am after the greener pasture but it is too good an opportunity to deny for me. Moreover, the mandate is more into tune of my interest and potential. Nonetheless, bidding adieu is one tough job for everyone when the moment is flooded with emotions. But ‘I am turning my heels to the place’ is the truth an undeniable one.


The first time I was transferred to Lhuentse, I was trounced by the strange feeling of being banished to exile. This is because the place to me merely denoted of remoteness, some odd five hundred kilometers east of the Capital city – Thimphu. It proved right when I confronted 2 days strenuous drive to reach the place. The road got narrower, the mountain higher and the jungles thicker from what I know during my earlier stint at Chukha. Every crossing of the passes (which I lost count of after sometime) took me further away and deeper into the place I’ve never known. As a matter of fact, the time I passed along Thimphu en route, I asked myself, “when will be the next time I will be coming here?”

But after reaching Lhuentse, it proved me wrong. The journey towards it, the place unexpectedly opened up to reveal its supreme beauty and charm. The historical fortress – Lhuendrup Rinchen Tse Dzong perched on the top of a small ridge resembled the seated pigeon while the villages remained spread and dotted on the lap of the mountains within the thickets of the pine trees. Minjay gewog, the place I’ll be working for next few years is even more beautiful. The 9 kilometres journey by the snaky and winding dusty farm road along the waist of the ridge took me to the RNR-Centre. “This is the place I will be calling my second home for next few years,” I admitted myself.

Next few days on my familiarization tour of the gewog, it unveiled more revelations. Like the bride inside the weeding gown, the place remained etched within the rural glory. Living in the environment for next few more years, where time is dictated by the cock-a-doodle-do from the farm household in proximity, I have seriously relished the rural settings.

It has its own charm of cows mooing to alert their owner of the time for milking, dogs barking at the strangers, hen flying right out of local layer basket clucking in its loudest while the mother with her babies on the back is winnowing outside. As the winter sun warms up, the male member of the household is seen exiting the house with an axe on his shoulder and the rope around his waist most probably heading to collect firewood. All day the household chore keeps the mother busy while the distant sound of the father splitting the woods can be heard from the nearby forest. Such is the life I’m familiar with.

On the professional font, my call of duty is that of need based rather than time bound. I would find most of the days out in the field working with the ultimate clientele – farmers. Its timing is not confined to the 9 AM to 5 PM when the free time for farmers is early the morning before the start of the farm-works or late in the even after retreating home. Those are times when farmer comes knocking your bedroom door seeking technical supports. Farmers nag for services irrespective of weekends, government holidays and off hours.

Now with my transfer to Thimphu, all these will be the thing of the past. Looking back on my journey from the imposing ridge which offers sweeping view of the place I worked in, Lhuentse will remain engraved in my memory.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Long, long, long journey to Education

“Root of the education is bitter but the fruit is sweet” no one would know about it better than Kado. The fatigue of having to toddle to the school, fever of unending exams, the torture of having to burn the midnight oil, dozing in classes and the stern rigors are hard to endure, few even give up on the way but many endure it with utmost determination and commitment, because deep inside everyone knows it pays later. “Root of the education is bitter but the fruit is sweet” no one would know about it better than Kado Kado in the tender age of 12 is negotiating the lazily meandering footpath along the steep mountain. His school bag, full of books, pulls him back. His black naughty boy school shoe is all soiled, indication of how many times he has trudged that same footpath. He is on his way to the primary school in his village, almost 5 kilometers away. He has to make sure he is in the school before morning social work starts; else he gets penalized. Unlike the students who reside nearb...

My New Found Love: - What shall thy name be???

I count myself lucky having met her one sunny day near the place I presently stay. I purely attribute it to the destiny or the fate we shared since it was the invisible string of love and passion that brought us together. None would dare to agree to believe me that she just decided to stay with me midway in Chukha in her journey to Thimphu, having consulted neither her parents nor anyone who took her care. So bold she is, is she? If ever I have been waiting for the fresh love, it was she who would give me the correct doze. "Lucky girl she is!" We have now developed so much of attachment that we can hardly think of time away from each other. We love each other so much that we eat together in same plate, sleep in one bed, go for evening walk and literally do everything together. What love is this if it is not one genuine one? The time I have to be in office is the time I miss her most while she stay at home, sleeping all day till I return home. Lucky girl she is! She eats th...

Cypress Surprise

It’s said that every cypress tree in Bhutan tells a tale. And indeed each one has a story. It just takes going around asking about the tree to unveil it. Besides being the national tree of Bhutan the cypress is associated with diverse myths and beliefs. Every grain of the cypress tree seen majestically towering over the dzongs, temples and stupas is imbued with intricate stories. Such stories are the greatest surprise surrounding the cypress. The two formidable trees at Baylangdra in Wangdue and at Kurjey in Bumthang are no exception to this. Their origin can be traced to the walking stick of the great Indian saint who visited Bhutan in 8th century. When such trees are planted, they’re done to serve as the ‘standing proof’ of the flourishing dharma. Often it is said that the trees will grow only if there is a prophecy that Buddhism will exist without waning. The trees cater to the locality as symbol of worship and blessings. The giant cypress tree growing near the Kurjey Lhakahng is ...