My Own Thoughts

The author dedicates this miniature to those uniformed men of Bhutan, who has served the mother country with so perseverance and strength when in need of our beloved land. The author also wishes to gratify them through this diminutive article for having shown their utmost belonging to the country and bringing peace and serenity once again to our tranquil land of Thunder Dragon. He is left lame and left to hobble around solitary leg for the rest of his life. But he has no regrets. He has proved enough that he is always there when the country needed him most. He is comfortable with ‘lame’ life he leads. The cause of his lameness was the cause of every Bhutanese. He was prepared for the final death since he has done what he is supposed to do as true son of Pelden Drukpa. He survives on what the Royal Government and in particular His Majesty have conferred on him in recognition of his outstanding Tha-Damtse and ley-Judey. Ngultrum three lakhs and his monthly salary is more than sufficient

Choden is a mother of a one year old daughter. She lost the real life just when she thought it was beginning. She blame herself for the failed marriage because she couldn’t workout the choices she was offered. Now she is worried about the brunt her daughter has to face having to grow up with fatherless child though born to legitimate parents. Her work came between and neither could she refuse. From her high school, Choden wanted to become a journalist. The charm of having to meet different people on her hunt for news coverage, the name which came printed on the paper in every issue gave her the satisfaction of the work done. But listening to the sad stories of those unfortunate in life and being able to bring them in limelight was her utmost fulfillment. The profession fitted the principle in her life, “charity with work”. The sprouting of many private newspapers lately gave an opportune avenue for her insatiable quest for writing. It was during one of these numerous interviews for t

Life is but navigating on trail purely dictated by the destiny. The destiny frames the journey one must make in whole course of life and no matter how rough this course is, one must stride it. So, she was compelled to make the rutted journey in her life. Every newcomer contemplating to enter the premise of the Gangkha Community in Chukha, must go through a 70 years old lady in her dirtiest rags. Sitting by the Chorten on a hilltop that offers the sweeping view of the last horizon, the same chorten from where she bid her daughter adieu 5 years ago, she tries to drive away every stranger, raining with stones, sticks, mud and whatever she can lay her hands upon. If one is not quick enough to bypass her, one can be the easy victim of these bad welcome to the community. Making my first trip to the village once on an official tour, I had a terrible experience of this disturbed lady. Had it not been my porter who was quick enough to rescue me, I won’t have made the journey back home. Over a

‘Eat when you are in acute starvation, only then does the food taste very luscious irrespective of quality”. And the holiday brunch serves the right substance for the same. The brunch is the odd mealtime which neither serves as breakfast nor the lunch. It is the meal eaten normally towards later part of early day, when the breakfast time is long gone but the lunch time is yet to come. It is the meal normally consumed at 10 AM to 11 AM in the morning. And this is my favourite mealtime. The other night, when I know the next day is a holiday, I find myself holding myself for long night. No matter how much the wall clock buzz reminding that the time is venturing into deeper darkness, my eyes shows no sign of drowsiness. I find myself reading books, writing fantasies and watching televisions. I am crazy, really crazy. Sometime the crow goes cock-a-doodle-do when I am actually retiring into bed, announcing that the dawn is slowly breaking up. And when my neighbourhood prepares to wake up f

‘To meet, to know, to love and to depart is the law of life’ someone has said it. We rally with strangers and people we have never known before in homes, schools, institutions and other public gatherings because we are born in different places. When we meet the strangers, we make friends with some of them and sometime we fall in love with few of them especially the young guys and ladies. We remains committed and dedicated to friendship or loveship, whatever the relationship you are sharing. But for how long? You got to ask yourself. One fateful day, you find that you are departing from your friend or lover going away to find your own friend, your own lover and your own foes. Ofcourse, it hurts so much but it is a law the life has framed and you ought to obey it. And if you don’t keep in contact through all possible means, it is much easier to forget. While traveling in the bus, you share the seats with someone especially with spinsters and you introduce, talk and become friend and s

Dreams and fancies of life that glimmered in his eyes have been washed away by the flood of tears that he has shed for her. The abrupt end of a nurtured relation turned out to be a fake and empty dream, not knowing to keep its words of promises. Those glorious dreams of being together, the maddening urge of holding each other, the divinely trust shared by the two and the humane respect flung to her have now become like a fairy tale told to a sleeping child. A triumphant victory intricately glued to a miserable failure, the moments of joy eclipsed by shadows of sadness, burst of laughter diluted by tears have become the norms of the days. The furious storm that swept through his life extinguished the flames of hopes leaving behind only the radiance, never to rekindle. “By the time you graduate from NRTI, you should be able to name a couple or hundred of plants”, A class on Forest (Field) Botany was on full swing. Ugyen, an undergraduate in NRTI was trying his best to collect his mind

Reproduction is imperative for sustenance of the species. Foreseeing this need, god shaped two different sexes in every living creature. All creatures come either in male or female with few exceptions. The architect also summoned each a style of performing this arts. But this art, as I suppose, is purely meant by the creator for assuring the descendant or linage. The copulation is expected to bring together the sperm and egg leading to the fine formation-a baby! But, with forward march of the time, it is put into use the designer might have never thought of. He never expected that people will use his intention for making money. You might wonder what I am talking about. I am referring to nothing other than about the Blue Films. At the first place, I don’t understand why it is called blue, when the hero, heroine and other actors comes in white, brown and black. Shall we not agree that the love making is primarily meant for baby production, which ensures that the species never runs exti

My father who is in his late seventies paid me a stopover here in Chukha last July 2006. My mother embarked him to make a sojourn to ensure her son is doing fine serving the government at his best. And obviously she ran little short of funding to hire labour to lend her hand with the farm work this summer. He arrived with the package of fried butter jam-packed in bamboo stem, some kgs of tengma and kharang in Sangkhu (bag stitched from clothes) and some desiccated fruit. It claimed him almost a week to make it to Chukha, sauntering two days to get to the road head and catching the bus that ply very rarely. He has to make sure that his approach to the road should coincide with the bus timing, otherwise with no other trucks and taxis, the road itself looks disserted and he will have to wait until the bus return for the next schedule. The longer his trip took the more harm the summer would do to the parcel. The summer precipitation didn’t spare the parcel sent by my beloved mum. By the

With the first crack of the alarm, he wakes up early in the morning. After running down a hot shower, he is ready with hot steaming suja (Bhutanese butter tea). She slowly rises up and the time she opens her eyes for the new day, the bed tea is already beside her. While she shabbily sips the tea, still in her night dress, he is back with her toothbrush with a heap of toothpaste on it. While she is off into the bathroom, he cleans the room and offers the water in the altar. Soon, the rooms fill up with the fragrance of the burning juniper. She is still in the bathroom grooming her long hairs. It takes her almost an hour to come out and when she finally emerges, the breakfast, red rice with emadatsi is laid on the dinning table. She ask him to serve her, while she comes with a towel wrapped in her head, he contently does it. Together, they breakfast and while she is off to put on her make ups, he is cleaning the dishes in the sink. Although, she was first to dress, he is faster to fin

The Cats and Dogs are often adopted by the people in the metropolitan as pets. They go pretty good as pets since they are known to be endearing animals. Some set of folks have their paramount love and passion for these animals. But back in the village, these two creatures are mainly spared space in the home to shoulder their own responsibilities. For instance, the cat is entrusted with the job of dwindling or keeping at the sea bed, the number of rats referred to as naughty rodents in the village. And the dog cannot keep eating what the owner provides and sleep. At night, they have to escort the owners into the corn field and keep barking to keep away, the lurking night’s ambusher (deer, bears, porcupine, and wild pig etcetera). So, I see no overlapping of their right to food and duties. But, many might have surely taken the notice of these two four legged animal never tolerating each other’s presence. One fine day they meet but await a big confrontation. The sight of one another inv

This is a village located on the mountain lap, overlooking the Wangchu River (as it copiously flows in its southward journey) and the glistering Gelli Gompa. As I stood on the rock, the river in the south reminded me the huge economic proliferation (development) the country have achieved as the river spins the fortune wheel of CHPC and THPA. The solitary temple standing so peaceful and tranquil within the bluepine thickets just opposite to the village provided me enough evidence of country’s success in the preservation of the religion and custom. No place would have been perfect for the settlement. But everyone didn’t share the same notion. Everything was perfect, the location, the view, the fertility of the soil, the harmony among the community members. The people lived in harmony with nature, with closely-knitted community. They lived for each other, making everyone available for everyone in needs and problems. Every season, villagers enjoyed the bountiful potato harvest from the fe

If I am asked, I would boldly answer, “The Tsa-Wa-Sum is “Gyeb, Gyelkhab and Meser”, (King, Country and People). But not everyone knows about what tsa-wa-sum is. Hence, when the superior ask them, they are left to conceive their own tsa-wa-sum. Once a meeting was convened by the Dzongdag. In a large congregation of illiterate rural people, the Dzongdag thundered, “do you know what tsa-wa-sum is?” “Can anyone from the crowd tell me?” The crowd went to pin drop silence and no one seems ready to answer. Are they scared of Dasho or no one has the slightest idea what it is? Suddenly, a Ngalop man sitting in the last bench, for whom Dasho is hardly visible, stood up. With his head bowed low, he answers, “The three tsa-wa-sum are Ngalops, Sharchops and Lhotsampas”. “This is because they are the three race in Bhutan” Dasho went into bout of annoyance but before he fired the man, another Lhotsampa (Southern Bhutanese Man) supplemented, “the three tsa-wa-sum are Royal Bhutan Army (RBA) Royal B

Everything in life is about hitting the bull eye. We all aim and dream for the highest and when that doesn’t come through, we say bullshit, I could make it. So, you see every failure and success in life can be attributed to the bull (an ox). And is it bull that is responsible for all this??? Be it about career, home, dreams, ambitions and literally whatever we undertake, we want to hit the bull eye of the target we set for ourselves for that matter it is the main goal of everyone. Say it a student back in the school. He targets to the bull eye of scoring the highest marks so that he can come out with flying results. But to do that, he needs to put in lots of efforts, burning midnight oils. Hitting bull eye doesn’t come easy, not for me either. So, sometime or is it my craziest of the idea that living can be compared to playing games. And yes life itself is a mysterious game of hide and seeks. Playing a dart manned with players is a typical illustration of daily lives. All these playe