Snowfall in Thimphu

This morning when I first opened my window curtains, the view outside awe-struck me. Oh my god, Thimphu has turned into a magical land. We’ve our first gorgeous snowfall of the year today in Thimphu.

The tree limbs are snapped with snow. The dusty winter world is all covered with a crisp winter white. The leaves, footpaths, roofs of buildings and cars and the entire valley dress in white world. Snow falls so thick, so mesmeric, so beautiful.

This snowfall brings children running out their doors. They play with snowballs and run their faces skyward and spinning around, gently falling on the snow piled ground. I go outside and play with children. This snow turns me into a child again, because I let it.   

As I run around to take its pictures, the shimmering of snowflakes glitter in the air, slowing tumbling fall through, on the white ground. It’s as if the lacy flakes dance and twirl and mimic our hearts – I feel lighter, joyful and magical. Some photographs here:

The magical clouds that spread over Thimphu valley

Friends, have you noticed the magical clouds that spread over Thimphu valley this afternoon? What a treat to my eyes and heart! A complete magic, I must say. It has wowed me, honestly! If you had missed it, I’ve here some photographs of it that I took in my Galaxy Note II. You can see so many beautiful patches of clouds, in different shapes, spread over the valley, up in the tantalizingly glorious blue sky. Have a look.

Wish that spring was here

In the recent days, the cold in Thimphu has quite surprisingly come down. I feel, instinctively, that we’re transitioning into the warmer season. Spring – it’s undoubtedly a rejuvenating time. At least, for me. That we pull off our warm clothes, come out from our rooms (that we had stayed all winter), and sprint to the out - in the open, so freeing, dancing.

And I just love the way that the world would once again burst into bloom and we admire it on our walks. The spring brings warmness, beauty and love - decorating the entire landscape with fresh green leaves, flowers and its amazingly strong aroma. And the cheerful birds and colourful butterflies and crickets emerge out welcoming the beautiful lush spring. I offer you here some photographs that were taken last spring in Thimphu. 

Have a good day!

It’s the morning of the year

Today, the 1st day of the 12th month, is the Chunig-pa Losar - the traditional day of offering. I didn’t plan for it, except visiting a friend who invited me for the lunch. This morning, I wake up before the sunrise. It’s still dark and unbearably cold. Let me tell you that in Thimphu, January is the most barren time of the year. December, too.

And since January is already here, we experience that the sun comes up late and goes down early. For me, these two months are usually deep dark – albeit more eloquently, dreary. Because that the daylight is shortened and the night gets prolonged.

As I walk around, I see the trees expose their dark branches and trunks. And the bushes have withered to the ground. The valley, mountains, rivers, and the soil beneath my feet exist starkly naked, barren and dark.

The wind, outrageously chilly and freezing, blows as if God had just opened his refrigerator for us. And we all shiver like a lean prayer flag, until our bones hurt. For me, everything about the winter in Thimphu is cold, dark and long.

And this morning, as I sit in my veranda, I see the day unfurling itself towards morning, and Losar too. From the horizon in the east, the sun begins rising, illuminating gloriously, lighting the otherwise dark valley. It’s the morning. It’s the Losar, too.

As the sun shimmers all over the Thimphu valley, I’m realizing that we’re entering towards the light, daytime. It’s, of course, the morning of the year. Henceforth, the day will become longer and the night shorter. More light, less dark.

The Chunig-pa Losar says it all that we’ve just entered into the last month of the year. But the day is also meant for again celebrating the coming of the new beginning as we enter again towards light. It means that wisdoms would awaken our minds gradually – lighting our own conscience, thus, our darkness and ignorance is dissolved.

A Losar Tashi Delek to all the bloggers and my wonderful readers! 

The season of the shortest days

We’ve entered the season of the shortest days. Winter. The barren valley and trees made my heart ache. The cold in Thimphu is unbearable and how we wish each time that spring was here.

But as I walk outside, oh, I love witnessing the barren valley and bare trees. I see the few remaining amber-red leaves on the tree. It’s full of spectral dancing shadows. The light keeps sparkling through the bare branches of the trees, so beautiful, so mesmerizing.

I see birds’ nests visibly exposed in the bare branches after leaves dropped in autumn. The nests sit there, delicately, vulnerably. The blue sky remains as boundless and open as our mind.

Lolay at my home

It’s like any other ordinary days for me. The New Year’s Day was spent working in the office and returning home and doing all household chores. I didn’t plan anything special for the day. No celebration, picnicking and dinner to honour the day - except the rejuvenated festive mood deep inside me.

In the evening, at home, I read a new book, a memoir/travelogue, called The Geography of Bliss. It’s the New Year gift from one of dear friends. Oh, what a good feeling to begin this New Year reading this gorgeous book! You never know how much I love the book. Charming and illuminating, this book also talks about Bhutan and the practice of happiness here.

It’s around 9 pm when there’s a gentle knock on the door. I pushed aside this book and ran out to open the door. A group of young boys were standing right in front of the door, all dressed in gho, mufflers and hand gloves to keep away the cold.

One of them was carrying a sack, rice in it. Another boy was holding a big plastic bag, gift boxes inside it.

“Acho, we are here to play lolay. Can we?” the tallest boy amongst the group asked permission from me.

I didn’t know what to say. I went blank for a while, literally.

The truth is that I didn’t know the necessary lolay ritual though I heard about it. Even the school textbooks didn’t teach me about it. I went close to them and asked, “What do I have to do when you play lolay here?”

They explained me, “Acho, after singing lolay, you can give us anything you have like money, rice and maize grains, foods, gifts.”

“Ok then, boys, go ahead,” I permitted them to sing lolay as I went inside to prepare gifts and money for my lolay guests.

They started singing, so rhythmically, so beautifully.  As I handed over gifts and money to them, they blessed me and my family all lucks, happiness and prosperity.

And they wrapped up their song, turned and strode away. All wonderful smile and gratefulness on their faces. And they wished me, “Acho, Happy New Year!”

I burst into tears. Because I felt so grateful. So happy. So blessed. These young boys may not know this – how much their prayers and wishes meant to me. As every new day of 2013 unfolds, I want to think and relish that I’m blessed.

(On the eve of Nyilo, the winter solstice, the kids go around reciting a verse to commemorate the beginning of an auspicious new year. Believed to have originated in Wang (present-day Thimphu), Lolay is a festive celebration that ushers in a good and prosperous new year. Lolay (written loleg) literally means ‘good year’. Source: http://www.bhutanobserver.bt).

New Year’s Eve!

I'm driving towards my home and it's a beautiful day in Thimphu. The sky is bright blue, and the sunlight glitters and shines off the buildings and Thimchu River. And the air is icy, forceful. People, in warm clothes, walk along the street. They talk and point, and laugh together. Oh, what a joy to remember that today’s New Year’s Eve! A day to feel overwhelming gratitude for this life, and to start it all afresh, isn’t it?

As I drive, I reflect on our year (2012) thus far, all grateful and proud. And oddly, wonderfully, 2012 has been plenty good to me. It’s not always good and easy one to live with, but far more thrilling and exhilarating. It fairly glimmered with struggles, pain and wonder. But in all this, too, I discovered glory and grace.

My life was not stuffed with posh cars, high profile friends, five-star dinners and ex-country trainings, but with simplicity, ideas and words - I dare say. Each and everyday always inspired me. To live a good life. To write. And, it has taught me what love is. What humility and decency is. What laughter is. What learning and life is. It just is what it is, pretty weird, but in many ways it’s perfectly beautiful.

Many people came into my life. They left, too. But all of them have purpose in my life - the things they showed me about myself and life and the enigma of happiness. I met with failures and lost some important aspects of my life, yet I learned to let things go and accept change.

At times, I was saddened by unnecessary comparisons. But then I’d wake up in the mornings and I’m relieved and pleased with the way things are. I’m exactly where I should be. I love where I’m. I love that it is good and comfortable. And today, I’ve so much to be grateful for.

And I’m driving here. It’s all cold. The future stretches out ahead of me - on the road, in the mountains, and valley that surround me. The past is there too, but now I prefer to press forward and see all the good and beautiful things that life has to offer. After all, what’s here in front of me is all I’ve got. I decide. In front of me, I’ve another 365-day long journey.

Happy New Year!

Boxing Day images

I offer you with a few photographs that I took on Boxing Day at Taj Tashi, Thimphu. I adore Christmas, the magical feel of the period of time, when we at times revert to feeling like children, in a fairyland. Another point, mythical Santa Claus, a portly, joyous and white-bearded man, amuses me. He brings gifts to the homes of the good children during the late evening and overnight hours of Christmas Eve.