We rock BFF!

I thought my life had come to a disastrous end yesterday. Never in my life did I feel so wretched and horribly lonely. I buried myself in unending remorse and had lived in limbo. The same day, I lost the odyssey of my seven years of proverbial beautiful love life. The unforgivable situation left me with no room for way back into love. Truly, it was a tragic déjà vu for me. Also, my otherwise very good terms with my parents and siblings have been ruthlessly ruined.

But out of sheer amazement, as if like a divine intervention, my friends saved me from this limbo. They showed me, amorously, the meaning and beauty of life. They goaded me that life is precious, to live, not to waste.

Last evening one of my friends had canceled his important appointment and spent all night with me. Another friend of mine whose assignment was to submit next day fled from his hostel to give me company.

Though raining and unbearably cold outside, they took me around the market for shopping, introduced me to read ‘The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying’, treated me with delightful dinner in a restaurant and then to have arra at their house. They also took me for drive, and then introduced me to some “decent” girls. Ha-ha! Guys, you can do what not for me to uplift my ravaged spirit.

Two of them appeared like Robin Hoods of my ravaged soul, or Messiah to save me from the grave consequences.

It was midnight that we returned to RIM to drop one of my friends in his hostel. Due to tight security as all the trainees were restricted moving after 9 PM, we attempted shortcut from other end of the institute. Like a bunch of notorious high school students, we climbed and jumped over the two-meter high RIM security-tight fence. We were seemingly drunk that we tumbled over the fence and injured our legs. Though hurt, we let out a laugh for a silly reason: looking at each other how we stumbled from the fence.

We were like young children running for the sweets as their parents returning from the market that we ran across the soccer field of RIM. We laughed wildly, childishly, as we ran in the field. Again we tumbled over the mud and mud-stained our clothes. The laughter was a volcano of happiness erupting in me. This brought a great measure of comfort in my heart. Rays of light came alive in me: HOPE.

I forgot completely that I was lonely and rejected. I instantly discovered my life so beautiful, this universe so warm and my friends so loving. My friends care for me, they want me.

Drunk, we knocked the hostel door and disturbed the inmates. We shouted in the room like a bunch of vulgar Indians. We left the hostel until Hostel dodam intervened and requested us to leave the hostel.

Another friend of mine branded us BBF (Best Friends Forever). We will always be best friends. We rock! And we will always rock.

In Urban Jungle Humans have Tiger face

Sitting on a dried wood at hilltop above Kuensel Phodrang, I was looking at the spectacle wondrous and awe-inspiring Thimphu City. Thimphu City was picture perfect in the evening from that bird-eye view to sit and watch. In a glance I viewed whole city and I felt like I had grasped the instant glorious beauty and happiness of the world.

Unlike before; however, this evening the splendor of the City nabbed my heart, but only for a flashing moment. The City aroused a very strange considerate understanding in me.

I was on the same spot, a couple of months ago, but with my friends. Then, we were snacking and drinking wine and also were implicated listening to latest songs played from the cell phones. We admired looking at the majestic Thimphu City adorned with limitless lights, colorful buildings, bridges and moving vehicles. What a stunning city!

However, this evening like a disgruntled angel irked by fraudulent nature of humans, I stood grumbling at hilltop oblivious to magnificent beauty of the City. It was a strange wakefulness for me, though. I felt as if I were waking up from an enchanted slumber. The City in front of my eyes appeared a bit unreasonable-bewildering, even enigmatic.

Since early 1980s, Thimphu has been maneuvering towards ambitious target of urbanization and powerful development. It cleansed itself from the shabby jungles and forests. It chased away or ravaged those hostile wild animals from its territory. Now there’s no seeing of poisonous snakes, vampiric leeches and beers, no existence of monstrous tigers and lions, and rampaging elephants.

The City is now wholly inhibited by the superior and civilized beings called human beings.

A casual notorious thought did spark over my mind. How many of the superior beings in that City would be making love at present? Ha-ha! This came to my mind uncontrollably. Pardon me!

I scanned the City-from north Trashichoedzong to south Babesa. Mostly educated and rich Bhutanese live with most sophisticated living standard here. Yet the City appeared to me a mere jungle. Urban Jungle, my conscience named the City. In this Urban Jungle people have tiger face.

Tigers and lions kill and eat their preys; human beings here diabolically stamp on each other to climb up social ladder or in want of more wealth and fame. We don’t have leeches or vampire that suck blood, but even close friends, relatives or lovers inexorably attack to suck one another’s blood. More horrific, as they are in a human face and hungrily suck blood to their fill (for their pleasure and advantage). Their hostile attitude stinks.

Venomous snakes in Thimphu Street are unseen yet many city dwellers or inhabitants (especially frustrated youth) conjure a poisonous threat as the deadly snakes. You don’t have to provoke them. They hiss at you and bite you brutally for no reason. Even the senior civil servants in volcanic anger are more scornful and threatening as a toxic snake.

Wild beers, though unnoticed, appeared in the street but in human face. Those misogynistic unruly men can molest or rape if found women walking alone late night in the street. Also, the City stopped orthodoxy beliefs in witch craft. But here many beautiful women live who are often deadlier than the witches we heard in the stories back in villages. These gorgeous women cast a spell and hex men using their sorcery of hypnotizing beauty. She sucks blood, eats his peace and robbed properties and ruins all his life.

There isn’t any jumbo elephant rampaging your homes and crops, but enough are those people who sabotage and raid others’ homes and properties.

Alas! Humans have become more callous and heartless than most beastly wild animals. Cognizant of all this, my heart sunk with rage, desolation and apathy. A forlorn hope of returning to the City where I live that I decided to live with starry and cloudless night at hilltop. Crickets swirled around me, birds returning to their resting place, chirped from the bushes and trees nearby.

Tears welled in my eyes, I screamed at the Thimphu City, “I will not return to you. Never! You have accumulated and favored the most hypocrite living beings. They are worst than most hostile wild animals. They are insane. I love to stay here in the company of the wild.”

Special thanks to Sonam Dendup, Legal Officer, Thimphu Dzongkhag Administration for his kind ideology and help in writing this article.

I too have a love story!

It was eight years ago at Jakar HSS in Bumthang. I was so young yet impulsive, so innocent yet very passionate, so tender yet very determined. To me, then, the real challenges and sufferings of this world were unheard and unknown.

I lived in a mere perception that our life was “beautiful”. I lived to make merry, and nothing more. To be happy was my maxim. No menacing covetousness and aspiring dreams ever pervaded me from that beautiful existence.

Exams, therefore, were temporary villain in my beautiful world, concerning me little of passing to next grade. But it was a minimal sacrifice I offered at the end of each year. Rest of the year I would be merry-making, though. I never bothered about the marks and ranks I acquired after each examination. Securing a pass mark was obvious goal for me.

Although bunking many classes and study hours or not studying even during the exam times, it was easy for me to score good marks to step into next grade. There were a handful of mates who were like me and we called ourselves “intelligent lot”.

This was the time when I fell in love madly with a girl same like me. It’s a cold winter, just a week left for us to appear common exam, the ultimate decider of rest of our life. I held her arms after gathering the guts of the world to confess my undeclared love. Outside, it was extremely cold, dews blanketed on dry grass blades and the wintry breeze blowing from the south. Students horsing around and rattling their plates were lining up for the dinner (kharang and pumpkin curry). Some would be carrying green chili, other taking packets of red chilli powder in their plates to have it with dinner. A piece of chili or a spoon of powder would be a great appetizer for us.

It was my first love, but not the love at first sight. I was shivering so vibrantly, nervous too. I was very weak and timid in this business-love. Perhaps I was proposing a girl for the first time. Never did I know that proposing a girl was so herculean task. It took me about two years to declare my love. But I was doing that day.

In a sheer disbelief, I proposed her, confessed my love. I felt perfectly relieved.

But I was persistently bothered and worried about the rejection. What if she denied my love? What if she had just thought and was treating me “only” as “a good friend”, and nothing more. It would ruin our three-spring good friendship; apparently ruining her trust on me.

I thought, instantly, that I made the greatest mistake of my life, and I started repenting never like before.

“I love you too!” from that small and innocent lips of hers sounded reverberating in my tensed heart. A huge emotion of joy gushed into my heart that I experienced the world of happiness and love, very true, very spiritual.

This love had no ounce of lust, no intention of hurting each other. As innocent, as immature, as pure as our untainted mind we surrendered our hearts for each other, trusting wholly.

We, then, prayed and promised that we will never go apart. We shared limitless immortal love notes which words can never express. Hand-in-hand or in each others' bosom, we chanted the prayer of love. We took an oath, that, whatever the circumstances, we will always walk together the journey of this life and die old together.

Senior Citizens need Protection Act

Bhutanese parents or senior citizens have conventionally been relying on the protection of their children and their extended families (cousins or relatives).

Most parents and children preserve close ties and try to support each other, both emotionally and financially. Even outside the family, other community members have traditional ways of offering support and a form of social safety net.

However, modernization, urbanization and exposure to other western countries have exposed senior citizens to new risks and hazards. Increase in education and knowledge are disrupting the relationships between parents and children. This led to family fragmentation and social hazards.

Today, most people are living stressful daily life that they ultimately ignore their parents or grandparents and have no time for the maintenance of the elders. We see the senior citizens are neglected. Some are even mistreated and robbed off their properties and wealth by their own children.

The senior citizens become desolate finding it very difficult to eke out their livelihoods. In Thimphu Street, we see scores of elder citizens begging for money to fill their stomachs and other managed to refuge in lhakhangs or charity guest houses. This also exposed old women to sexual abuses (as reported by national newspapers). There are also stories that many senior citizens died from ill-treatments from their own children.

Therefore, to prevent the growth of the senior citizens from such woeful plights in our society and to ensure them financial and social security has become increasingly important to us.

The parents and the senior citizens need new opportunities and associations for their social protection that can build a spirit of social responsibility.

Let me suggest one protection that can mandate the care of elderly citizens, i.e. enactment of Maintenance and Welfare of Parents and Senior Citizens Act.

Under this Act, the law should envision the establishment of Tribunals and Old age Homes to ensure its functioning.

The ACT should seek to make it a legal obligation for every children and heirs to provide sufficient maintenance and ensure the financial independence and dignity of senior citizens who are unable to maintain themselves.

Those senior citizens living at old age homes should be given the rights to a maintenance tribunal seeking a monthly allowance from their children or heirs. If their children or heirs failed to do so, the parents can take their children to court to obtain maintenance allowance with the help from tribunal officers.

Don't laugh at your kids' affectations

An offensive awkwardness strikes me every time I meet my 14-year old nephew. His parents and relatives marked him as “notorious boy” for his unauthentic attitude. He is good in study, though.

A month ago, he kept long hair but shaved on sides. He dressed all in black and called himself, Genji (lead actor of Crows, Japanese film) imitating the actor’s fighting style.

He also bought a pair of cool supra shoes that Justin Bieber wears in his album videos. While eating meals, he pulls the spoon upright near his mouth as a mike and sings and dances like Justin.

At times he nags his father to buy him football jersey and a football, and after wearing Christiano Ronaldo’s Real Madrid Jersey he copies Ronaldo’s dribbling.

Again last week, after watching Sleeping Beauty, a Bhutanese film, he cut his hair short but kept a long bunch of hair on his left side. Then he bought a spider man T-shirt and does break dance like Tandin Sonam, the protagonist of the film and sings so enthusiastically, Neelam nangi ashi…

My nephew is not only one who behaves this manner. Almost all youth do this and we did the same when we were young. However, many adults and parents are annoyed at their children affectations. Parents and adults fear that their children are becoming rootless and undergoing identity crisis, and hope they be futile in future.

In the past few days, I contemplated on this issue rather seriously. And I too rediscovered my own self, my youthfulness some ten years ago. Although I had different idols like Michael Jackson, David Beckham, Rinchen Namgyal; however, I used to imitate them and tried to think one of them, becoming like them.

There is no absurdness and abnormal about our youth trying on to imitate like popular stars. It is just that he or she is only trying and jumping on one face after another to find his or her own-true identity, potential, talent or desire or their suitable place.

Time will come to our youth, one day that they realized and discovered their right place where their attitude, talent and desire are rightly fit in. Until then, youth will be jumping from one face to another rather so annoyingly.

Teaser Teasing!

An idea or feeling, so strange, extraordinary hovers over my mind. Sprayed so freshly, so colorfully that I want to grasp it, not letting it go away. Desiring to keep it me forever, that I long to pen it down right away and immortalize it.

I run-round my room in extreme ecstasy. Jump to my room enthusiastically, seated in front of my PC all smiles, try hard to submit my feelings-recollect, catch and pour down each word.

However, one fear remains in my tender heart-that each second may steal away the words from me.

And consequently the words lost, the feelings go dry and the whole idea disappears into thin air- the feelings so strong, the idea so distinctive and extraordinary leaves me unsowed in my heart and PC.

Frustrated, I turn around, kick the furniture and punch on the walls. A bottle of arra in my bedroom's corner remains so inviting. I take a sip, then two and a whole bottle-drink it as if for my lost-love.

Drunk ruthlessly with local arra and undeniably in utmost exasperation, again I try my nerve to recollect those words, reframe it in my mind and try submitting in my PC. The arra; however, disappointingly ate up the few words lingering in my head.

Depression ensnared me so badly and I panicked helplessly. No come back of the lost idea, it left me forever.

I cried in remorse. I couldn’t grasp and own the most remarkable idea or a feeling. I just let it go away.

A week or two later, I will be reading my friends’ blogs. Suddenly I come across my idea posted: written exactly how I had felt a week ago. He expresses the feelings in best words that I had just dreamed.

And how I envy the writer, though?

I tried to gain back the article, snatch it from the writer and own it. But I am helpless again as it was already owned by another person.

More and dangerous depression engulfed me; this time with enraged jealousy and inferiority.

Shall I take another bottle of arra?

The Kingdom's Oldest Citizen

Three years back in 2008, I visited Meme Lethro (the eldest Bhutanese citizen) in Jigmechoeling, Sarpang. Since he has witnessed the world from a century ago and has seen all the Druk Gyalpos and also lived their sovereign reigns, I felt I should write and mark his memoirs.

                        Photo: Kuensel

Today, Meme Lethro is 111 year-old. He was recognized and entitled as the Centenary Citizen in 2008 and has received certificate and supports from His Majesty the King.

Mme Lethro lives one-km downhill from the Jigmechoeling’s Gup office. Today there are more than 1,000 households in the valley. All kinds of modern facilities and infrastructures have made their way here (grade-I BHU, mobile network, motor road, farm mechanization, dzong and dratshang).

After crossing numerous rice fields and orange orchards, I reached a cottage built from wooden planks and CGI roof. On its veranda, I spotted Meme Lethro. He was weaving bamboo hat. Hunch-back and toothless, he is pale and wrinkly. He sipped a cup of tea as he wove a hat.

Tandin Wangdi, his 29-year old maternal grandson, looks after the old Meme. Tandin told me, “Meme always wakes up early and loves to have tea. Then, straightaway, he resumes back to his daily chores of weaving bamboo hats and basket,” he said.

I was curious; perhaps I wanted to find out the secret to his longevity. I inquired about his diet. Tandin said that Meme can still chew and relishes rice for lunch and dinner, which has been hi staple diet.

As I sat there watched the centennial man, I couldn't help but see images in my head of everything this man was witness to.

I asked him about Bhutan’s past which stretched back to the late nineteen century. He said the memories are fading, though he remembers his father dying when he was a 15 year-old. Then he lived as a shifting cultivator and as a cowherd in the Kheng valley of Berti. He had never been to school as there were no school in the country except in Bumthang and in Paro.

When he was young, Jigmechoeling and all other parts of Sarpang and Zhemgang were covered with thick forest and wild animals. He said that only four households inhabited the whole valley of Chungshing under Zhemgang and Jigmechoeling.

As a teenager, Lethro had to deliver annual taxes to Lamigoenpa at Jakar with his other three neighbors from Chungshing. The tax imposed upon them was large-size bamboo carpets. Each household had to deliver a carpet each.

“We had to spend four nights to reach Lamigoenpa. The route was very rough and slippery covered with leeches, beers, wild boars, and heavy snowfall,” he recalled slowly.

“I still vividly remember that there were only two huts in Gelephu when I was young boy. Those two huts served as tongba shops for the traders between Bhutan and Assam,” he said. "The Bhutanese bought garments and other necessities like salt and oil from Bongaigoan, Assam."

Meme Lethro said proudly that there was no cardamom and orange plants at that time. “Later on with my grand father, I cultivated orange and cardamom plants all over the valleys of Sarpang and other parts of southern Bhutan.”

Later on, Lethro worked, as woolah, at the construction of the Thimphu-Phuentsholing National Highway for a month. He also contributed his service in the reconstruction of Tashichoedzong in Thimphu for more than three months.

He said Thimphu was a shed. “The capital was covered with thick jungles and wild animals,” he added.

Besides being recognized as the Centenary Citizen of Bhutan in 2008, in his thirties, Meme Lethro was recognized and awarded a Nu 5 Silver Coin Medal by the second Druk Gyalpo for his contributions. At the time he was the man-in-charge for the new settlement at Jigmechoeling valley for nine years, after Lhotsampas immigrated to the valley.

For Meme Lethro, marriage came late, when he was 66. He married Mudhu, a girl from Chungshing who was 20 years younger to him. But after 20 years she died leaving behind no children. Meme is the last survivor from his family of seven siblings.

The secret to his longevity, he said was his,, “faith in Kencho Sum, the peaceful reigns of all the monarchs, and my healthy diet." He said he hardly touched alcohol although it was very much prevalent in Kheng culture.

"I still feel very good," he said. "The centenary medal has inspired me. I hope I can live a little longer to see the sunrises and the sunsets." With that, he went back to weaving his hat and the refilled tea.

My New Year Resolution: Respect

For many of us, the New Year is a time of new beginnings, of resolutions, of fresh starts (setting audacious intentions and priorities for the year ahead). For some, it is also a time for reflection on the events and choices of the past year.

Many have feasted the New Year with wild celebration; however, I typically spent New Year Eve in secluded meditation. I have, thus, pondered on priorities for the New Year, 2011. And this year’s resolution, I committed to follow a simple moral code of Respect.

Respect to me is a simple act of giving particular attention or a special regard, taken together or taken care of, respect for self, others, and the whole planet.

I will give high regard and attention to myself. This means I will take good care of myself, dragging myself on a virtuous path. I will take good foods only (avoiding drugs, alcohols, cigarettes, bad friends). I will give myself timely sleep and daily exercise which can help reduce my stress and sickness.

Giving high regard and attention to other people, I will be respecting them and not having anger, greed, or hatred toward them. It means I can foster happiness to my relatives or friends or co-workers or beloved ones and all other people. I will only tell truth, be honest. I will never harm them or gossip maliciously about them. I will also never exploit the weaker sex (women), youth, elder citizens, physically challenged people and the poor. Instead I will reach out and help them.

Since culture is very important for any independent nation like Bhutan, I will give high regard to my religion, national dress, language or local dialects, custom and tradition, ritual and take care of them from their dilution, destruction and negligence.

I will keep our country’s national interest above anything to protect and keep our country sovereign and independent. I will also respect our great forefathers and all the Kings for their insurmountable sacrifices and hard works and bestowing us with sovereignty, prosperity and peace.

Lastly I will usher my highest regard and attention for the planet and its inhabitants. I will join the fight against reducing our human consumption and refilling diminishing resources from the earth. I will encourage stopping deforestation, exploiting mining and menacing urbanization. I will also stop eating meat or killing animals, and wearing animal-produced garments. I will rather initiate practicing green-gardening and consuming local products and help earth grow sustainably by planting more green trees and avoiding environmentally hazardous practices.

My resolution for the year of 2011 is as simple as any one can keep it. May this New Year 2011 be a wonderful year for all!