We
set off walking uphill, on our way to renovate a vandalized chorten on the way
to Phajodhing. It was mid-morning, a month ago. Sunny day. Bright. We, 12 of Go Youth Go members, carried a load each
of lime, paint, sacks, spade, knife, packed lunch and some drinks.
After
almost an hour-in fact, sweated-we reached the spot. Wow, we were into the
interior of the forest, all surrounded by beautiful green trees. The air, so
clean and cool and pure. I was delighted beyond words. In some ways, this was a
great relief for me. Away from the intense, cramped and noisy Thimphu City. But,
eh, in one corner of the hill, sat the chorten abandoned and despised, in
sullen silence. It looked bruised, dispirited, looted. Oh, the mere sight of it
pained me, provoked such an ache of my heart.
Immediately,
we deployed ourselves in rebuilding the chorten. With real gusto though. Responsibilities
were divided among us. I received a bucket to fetch water from the stream about
a hundred yards downhill. A couple of others got a sack each and spade to ferry
clay. Others went onto collect pine needle and made a fire to burn incense and
pine needle as was the ritual. Strong boys from the group gathered stones. Two
boys, who had good knowledge about architecture, put back the treasures and
refilled damaged areas. And of course, a few brought their great humours.
In
no time at all, the required materials were gathered. Water. Clay. Pine needle.
Stones. It was, in fact, all about teamwork and teambuilding among the group
members. Then, we started rebuilding the chorten, so uninterruptedly, so
determinedly.
After
a while, there’s torrential rain beating down on us, and it’s ferocious. The rain water mixed with girls’ black
mascara, eyeliner and foundation. Boys’ gell streaming down, all milky white. Our
clothes wet, our hands and legs muddied. But
no one complained about the downpour. We kept on working, feeling much
stronger, against the onslaughts of the pouring rain and cold. We admired work
of art, architecture and the efforts our ancestors had invested building this
chorten. In
the lunch, we shared our packed lunches. Three had brought rice. A few others, emadatsi. One brought ezey. Others had brought vegetables
curries. Even it’s teamwork in having lunch and more importantly, all about
sharing.
The
lunch warm in our bellies, we resumed our work. And this time, recharged with a
commendable spirit and determination. As we worked, we too conversed, laughed, played,
tussled and tangled. In fact, sweating profusely.
But
the clouds up in the sky never cleared. The downpour never stopped and soaking
us. And, oddly, wonderfully, it opened my eyes to the radiance of a deep sense
of grace and glow to my heart. Like this rain water, like this sweats and this
mud which had dissolved every particle of worldly dust from our body, the
effect of laboring rebuilding of the chorten cleansed our tainted souls. Anger,
desolation, apathy, weariness and despair-all flushed down. And only the positive
feelings had been illuminated in our heart. And a growing belief in a spiritual
dimension, developed compassion and heightened sense of love. And
the dispirited, bruised, looted chorten resurrected in its glory. Its treasures
restored, its grace returned. Once again, it stood incomparably beautiful,
shining in bliss, plentitude. And illuminating in a halo of lights of beauty,
love, spiritualism, compassion and protection. This is one plain empirical
truth, I had discovered. The chorten like a mirror reflected our own image,
inner sanctum of our temple.
The
afternoon was nearing its end when we complete rebuilding the chorten. The rain
stopped. Ah, miraculously, the setting sun stood feverishly beautiful in the
west as we packed our things and headed our way home downhill-muddy and
slippery. Flurries of birds were swirling around us twittering and chirping as
if they were thanking us. Fresh wild flowers budded full, supposedly, in enormous gratitude and a
sense of homage for us. Rustling leaves waved us farewell.
And
downhill, we clambered, with a smile of satisfaction and love. Our heart
exalted. Because not only did we resurrect one chorten, but our own negative
feelings cleansed and heroically restored with compassion, love, happiness. Note: Go
Youth Go (GyG) is a membership-based community group of highly motivated young
people which is committed to bring positive social change in Bhutan. It has over 160 active members. GyG is on Facebook: www.facebook.com/GoYouthGo
Do you love reading and everything about the book world? Do
you want to spread the love of reading and literature to your children?
Let me introduce you to one of my best-loved programmes that
the Department of Youth and Sports (DYS) offers. Book Time, a reading session, engages young children at the DYS
library to teach them the true power of the literary world. The session also
helps young children recognize the power of books, love and value them.
I’ve been working with children of Book Time for the past two weeks. And honestly, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed
every minute of it, all along the way. During the session, I came across a sweet little girl. Often
she stood, alone, holed in a corner reading a book-presumably, delving on the
pleasure of the words, story of the book. She was uncommonly alert,
communicative once you got to know her. And ah, she enjoyed all sorts of
literature.
In one session, I was reading out story from a book about a
fairy who granted wishes. When I asked what her wish would, this little girl
replied, “I want to write a book someday.” How sweet! I told her that she should. But I
wonder if I conveyed how strongly I really would like to.
After the session, I left thinking about how seriously she
would take this wish of her. But it gave me such pleasant joy to have known
about her passion about writing a book. At very young age. And who knows…in the
future or very soon, you and I would be grasping a beautiful book written by
this little girl.
A group of six children from Chukha dzongkhag are leaving for Japan tomorrow morning. They will be attending the 15-day long youth exchange programme in Koga, southern Japan. Two officials will be escorting them. The programme is to provide young people exposure and broaden understanding of the global perspective. It is also intended to exchange culture.
Peldan Dorji, 10, a student of Wangchuk MSS told me that he doesn't know what he is going to do in Japan. "I am blank. But I am very excited to go there," he said.
Another participant, 12-year old Kuendrup Yangchen, a student of Phuentsholing LSS, said, "I have never seen aeroplane in my life, but I am excited that tomorrow I will be experiencing my life's first flight. I am very, very happy."
Pic: Their last lunch before they leave for Japan
The programme is organized by the Department of Youth and Sports, MoE with financial support from the Japan government.
Facebooking is not always “waste of
time” or misleading. I will show you how. About a month ago, I was chatting
with my friend, Gyembo Koottaadogck Namgyal in
Pemagatshel and I came to know some significant aspects of life, the real
paradox of GNH society and about happiness.
Gyembo wrote:
“Can we afford to ignore these
people? Don't they live in a GNH country as well? We boast of having one of the
highest GDP per capita in the region and have people living on six digit pay
checks while people in the far flung corners live in...conditions like in the
picture. As the citizen of the country, both of those who live on the extreme
ends have equal rights to the country's wealth but where is the equity and
where is the effort to bridge this disparity? I would only say we are seriously
pursuing happiness only when we see some of the collective wealth of the nation
trickle down to the most needy ones.”
We
had this chat during the time when our Lyonchen was proclaiming about GNH in
New York. I felt, during that time, that our country
should think of making such folks happy than having scholarly discourses around
the world. The GNH needs not to be asserted or proclaimed across the outside world, it
should be practised in Bhutan, realistically and let the world hear, come and see how we
do it here.
Again Gyembo asserted:
“An undeniable reminder of what path
awaits us all down the line, rich and poor, powerful and meek, beautiful and
ugly and, sophisticated and rustic. All must tread that same path.”
He added:
“Even with all the wealth in the world
what do we really achieve-nothing, except that by the time we reach that stage,
it is time to bid adieu to everything. And that is the ultimate real truth.”
He was, generally, emphasizing that
people always look forward to making their dreams come true. And they struggle (with
so much of dedication and desire) for accumulation of wealth, property, sex, fame,
money and success. Amidst all this, they forget about the truth of life. At the
end, we achieve nothing but this old age. Inevitable though. This is what we
achieve after so much of struggles in life-the old worn out bended body.
And Gyembo composed an insightful lyrics for this man he saw on a highway. Read below:
On
this lonesome highway... For umpteenth time, I did travel, A special man I did see always, Clearing drain and sweeping tarmac, So that you and I can drive free of dust!!! Salute to you, special man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
