Sherubtse, after eight years

For quite some time, I wondered dimly whether I have really stepped inside Sherubtse, “The Peak of Learning”, as we were so fond of calling it. Dark clouds stumbled in and were moving steadily, in an eerie manner, around the college campus. There were no streetlights, not a single soul. All seemed dark, misty and forlorn.

That’s how my college welcomed me after eight years. But maybe my college was too excited to see me after so many years and she was only expressing her emotions in the form of dark clouds. Just maybe she was feeling dark and lonesome without me.

In the meantime, it began to rain. Nice and hard. I quickly ran towards the academic block where I had studied and took shelter there. I sat there gazing at the falling rain; ah, it felt like Kanglung was crying, showering its tears in happiness.   

After about half an hour, the rain stopped and gradually the dark clouds were drawn away as if summoned by the heaven’s magic wand. Then suddenly the day fetched the sunlight, brightening the valley, college.   

So everything appeared bright. Even the heavy emotions lurking persistently in my heart were washed away too. I felt freeing, blissful, and then I walked around the campus gently, with care.

Tall and beautiful, Sherubtse still wears its persistence grace. Except for a few new buildings, everything remains same - the jumbo gate, hostels, academic blocks and library. All this constitute their oldness and glory.

The first person I met was a college staff and Lopoen Tenzin (Chorzang) who used to teach us Drig-Lam-Nam-Zhag followed by a handful of gardeners who were humbly toiling in the flower gardens. Then I spotted a group of students walking leisurely to their classroom. And then many other students appeared.

With a supporting staff

They are young, innocent and tender. Girls of this land generally are tall, slim and beautiful. They wear high heels, and have maintained their hair long, straightened and well-perfumed.

Boys are, mostly, decent and smart. Their gho are well-ironed and their shoes polished, always shining. They speak in accented English - perhaps idolizing the Rock Stars. And no wonder, in ramp-walk style, they walk.  

On my walking, I overheard their conversations. And it has caught my attention instantaneously, with some familiarities. Oh, they still practise those terminologies we used to speak.

“Hawa lecture.”

“That girl is mercy hot.”

“Heavy asom juice.”

"Scope.”

In fact, these are the commonest words spoken in the land and only its inhabitants could speak and understand. Everything about these young students reminded me of my young age. I used to be like them, exactly, and I used to do the same stuff.

Kanglung is a place where the music strongly rules - be it blues, country songs, hard metal, and rock and roll. The students still sing Don William’s “Desperately”, Eagles’ “Hotel California” and Savage Garden’s “Truly Madly Deeply”.     

There aren’t any DJs, there aren’t any studios, yet everybody sings quite well in this place and it has bred the best of Bhutanese singers like Ugyen Panday and Marinsa.

Being in Kanglung is timelessness, at least for me. If you don’t believe me, look at the college’s clock tower. It gives you the same time the year round. 

To add on timelessness, a boy would patiently wait for months (or even years) for his dream girl to accept his proposal. And he would wait for hours outside her hostel - out in the cold, monsoon rain and scorching sun - just to take her out for a date or dinner.

My classmates in Yongphula, picture taken in 2005

Every building, corner, playground, footpath and park evoked fond memories, mostly good ones. Some bounced vividly on my mind, others remained vague. It seemed like I was reading a book that I had read long time back.   

I recalled many more, and I was quite surprised that I can still remember them with strange clarity. Of blind date and romance, of football tournaments, of midnight “blux” porn show, of asom juice, of cruel ragging and picnic in Yonphula.

At that particular moment, it seemed like everything came to a stop. Ant this feeling was just beautiful, I loved it.

Who says we cannot stop the hands of time and relive in our past? Who says same thing cannot happen twice?

Namling - The road that takes you close to death

If you are traveling to the Eastern Bhutan, one thing that automatically strikes your mind is the Cliff called Namling Brak. Located shortly after Sengor on the way to Mongar from Bumthang, it is the deadliest and wildest cliff of Bhutan. In fact, without passing it you cannot reach the Sharchop region (unless you travel through India).  

At an altitude of 3,000 metres, Namling is usually foggy and is very steep stretch of rocky cliff. Quite wondrously, the East-West National Highway runs through it, perhaps making it one of the world’s wildest roads.

Moreover, the road is very narrow without much roadside protection walls. The moment I look at the cliff below every hair on me stands up shrieking with fear. And that particular moment, I always feel the chill of death. You miss a step and you are spot dead. Oh, that close to death!  

Every time I travel here in the bus, I see a strange behavior among the travelers. The moment we arrive at the cliff, a complete silence ensues in the bus. The travelers take out their rosary and pray reverently. Even the drunk people come into consciousness. Seriously. They start hailing God and conjuring local deities to protect them.

For Bhutanese, Namling is known as “Death Drop” after the national tragic accident where a passenger bus fell 300 metres down the cliff in June 1998 and 58 passengers killed. After that, it has been considered as haunted and ghost-infected place. People have stories to narrate, of ghost and eerie and frightening incidents; they were scared and stopped travelling from Namling after 4 pm.  

For me, it is the longest and most frightening 10 minutes drive of my life.

However, after the horrifying drive, we come to a marvelous waterfall which falls down the cliff. As soon as the travelers spot the waterfall, they sigh in a huge relief. The waterfall falls at a stunning height of about 50 metres.

Your fear and agitation forgotten, you would just run-round in a fury of extreme excitement. It simply is an awe-inspiring spectacle to sit and watch. For ever, and ever.  

Eastern Bhutan-Roadside pictures

I am so much intrigued by the beautiful valleys, rainfalls, rivers, villages and innocent people of the Eastern Bhutan. So to tell you, I have taken a lot of pictures all along my journey by the roadside, by the East-West highway. Most of the pictures were taken on moving bus and I share with you some of them here, 

An innocent young lad just starts his day to school, just begins his life

Trying to gain attraction from the passing by travelers: Lingmithang kids

Asking for lift

In-built umbrella on his head, handmade one: Rangjung

This board says it all, that you are in the east

All empty beer bottles. Sharchop can really drink

And this says it all, after you get drunk

Liquor agent...? What kind of liquor?

DTH: And this is what you get....phallus on your screen?

Coincident, but same pose: Mongar

Eastern Bhutan-Landscape pictures

After eight years, I took a travel to the Eastern Bhutan. For this matter, I have a lot to write about the trip and journey itself. This journey is a whole lot roller coaster of reverberating memories of my past, of those times I had spent in Bumthang and Kanglung.

Visiting here, after many years, was like a beautiful nightmare to me. But most importantly, I love peace, serenity and magnificent landscapes of the Eastern Bhutan. And I am pretty sure that my pictures write it all about the journey. So here it is. 

Yotongla

Yotongla

Pelela

Pelela

Rukhubji

Lingmithang, Mongar

Mongar

Mongar

Mongar

Yathra shop, Chumey

Dangme Chu

Mongar

Korila

Namling

Living a rich life in humble way

If you are a regular visitor here, then you would know that this blogger is a walker too. As much as I love walking, I choose to write about it here on my blog.

I don’t know precisely how I picked this habit, but I have been walking considerably since long time ago. From home to office and back, to the town besides my planned evening walks. But as far as I know, I started walking when I couldn’t afford car.

Often my friends and colleagues asked me, “When are you going to buy car?"

I responded, unsure, “After I get married.”

Now I am married and I have come up with another excuse, “After I get a kid, I will.”

In Thimphu, you are expected to own a car as soon as you start working. It is supposedly to do with maintaining our social status. For those office goers and family person, it is to do with their convenience.

Simply put, without car, I struggled in Thimphu. Taxis were expensive. My bosses would give me works assuming I have car. Often the summer’s monsoon rain was thwarting, and the winter’s cold harsh. Moreover, attending a meeting or workshop was always a problem when I have to travel far away from my office.

A few years ago, I was sharing these concerns to a foreigner friend of mine. And in the meantime, I uttered that I was planning to buy a car.

My friend looked at me wide-eyed and surprised and then reacted, “Bhutan is such a beautiful country: magnificent landscape around you, fresh air, green plants all over and friendly people. Riku, you are very lucky to be born in Bhutan. Why do you want to buy car and cover yourself in a metal box?”  

It hit me hard, for that matter. After that I dropped the idea of owning a car. Instead, I started walking more and many times I declined when others have offered me lift.

It helps maintaining my good health, but much of my walking I just stop by and enjoy the nature. More than I could tell, it marvelously brings me closer to the Mother Nature. I become a part of it, part of beauty. The myriad colours of plants, the fragrance of flowers and the mystery of mountains always leave me astounded, brighter and happier.

Last week, I was hosting dinner to my close friend who just returned from his studies in India. He told me, “Bhutan itself is a five-star facility.” He explained that all that we have - fresh air, pristine forests and rivers, magnificent monasteries, stunning rural farms and undisturbed environment - are rare and precious.

“One can find these facilities only in a five-star hotel elsewhere. You have to pay for them - that too very expensive, artificial,” he continued adding, “But we (Bhutanese) don’t understand it unless we travel outside.” 

I don’t know how far I can maintain this attitude and habit. But as far as I am concerned I will try to avoid dragging myself cocooned in the metal box. Out in the open, wide and free, I will enjoy the five-star facilities walking. Like this, I will try to live my life rich with more intentions in a humble way. 

A pilgrimage, photo excursion

On the Birth Anniversary of Guru Rimpoche, my wife and I went to visit the Wangditse Dzong in Thimphu. The purpose of the visit was basically to pray for the wellbeing of ourselves and all the sentient beings on the religious day. However, on the day, I landed up taking lots of pictures that I am going to share with you here. Have a lovely rainy Sunday! 

Tashichhodzong

Thimphu Valley

Takin Zoo

Story of a stink bug

About a year ago, my friend Chencho Thinley narrated this story to me. When I heard it, I absolutely loved it and since then this beautiful tale has left me hugely inspired. I can’t tell you how thankful I am to my friend; moreover, I can’t wait any longer to share it with you. So here it goes.

Pic: www.terro.com

Once upon a time, there was an insect by the name of Stink Bug. He lived in a tree with his fellow bugs. But he was never happy because he was very stubborn and pompous. He prided himself for being very smart and clean.

He had a belief that everything and everybody around him was erroneous and tainted. Indeed, he felt sick of everything. One day he decided to leave the wood and his friends. After flying for quite a length of distance, he came across an attractive tree in a forest. He was quite happy to start his life new in this fresh tree.

However, after sometime, he started feeling foul smell in the tree. He veered around and in noisy jerks he stamped his legs on the wood, angrily. More intense pungent smell came; the breeze further spread it. Out of disgust, he cursed the tree for bearing such a foul smell. He left the tree and went on searching another.

This time he spotted new tree, more attractive one. The pest resided in the tree joyfully. After a few days, it started bothering him again. For, he encountered the same noxious smell from this tree. It put him in a foul mood and he cursed this tree too. And as was his habit, he departed from it too in search of another wood.

Likewise, he looked for and resided in handful, dozens and hundreds of trees. He had problem with all of them; the putrid smell was always there, in all trees. At the end, he came to an impression that every tree is bad, stinks.

All his life, the bug landed up being unhappy and cursing the trees for being very smelly and obnoxious. However, the truth is that it was his own smell that was the source of constant disgust and unhappiness for him.

So this is it, the story of a stink bug!

Since I first heard it, the story took me inside of me that I hardly go and has forced me to rethink some of my own prejudices and pride. Indeed, it truly helped me understand and realign my perspectives and life’s sojourn.

 

I have met many people, some very close to me, who keep hopping on different jobs. Never satisfied, they always blamed the organizations and people that they have worked with. It is a terrible thing to say, but true.

Also, there are people who are unhappy with their relationships, so they change frequently. So I do see those people who are never happy in one place.

But I admit here, I too have been like the bug. I was not happy with what I have and what I was doing. Of course, I did blame the people and circumstance around me and tried looking for new avenue.

The truth is that we tend to shape things to suit our own situations, perspectives, opinions and beliefs. The greater truth is our ego and arrogance will not permit us to become happy and enjoy the beauty of life.

Yay! It's this simple. Put down your prejudices like the clouds here and you can enjoy the beauty across the landscape

So as I end this post here, I leave you a few questions to mull over this evening. How often do you look into your own perceptions, intentions and feelings? Are you aware of it? Are you working towards correcting your prejudices and perspectives? 

Miles to go

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

This particular stanza has always been my favourite from the poem Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost. First published in 1923, the story goes that Frost wrote it in a few minutes after he took a sunrise walk. Because of it, well, I am a great lover of poetry. 

I first heard this poem when I was studying in the primary school. My English teacher read out the poem, and I liked it instantly.

Ah, I still remember sitting quietly on a darkened window of my house and reciting the entire poem oblivious of noise outside. These lines used to sumptuously transport me to another realm. I used to feel dreamy, magical, and mysterious.

So did I fantasize that magic was found everywhere - in the dark woods, in every lake, behind the closed doors, under the grasses, and high up in the mountains. 

Such is that this literary composition had on me!

Later, in the 10^th grade, I could get to study the poem as in the English literature textbook. And I have loved it even more. 

In several occasions, in front of young people and to my friends, I read and quoted this poem - particularly these lines - to inspire and to be inspired.   

Today, as an adult, I see these lines much differently. It is about duty, promises and commitments, sacrifices, and positivity. The journey ahead too. As I recite the poem now again, yes, it rings loud, all clear.

I turned 31 this year. It means that I have hit a biggest crossroad of my life and now just heading into a new direction. Just completed my first five years of service, and just started a fresh life of marriage.

In the recent time, I have thought a lot about “miles to go”, how I would spend the years ahead of me. But the universal truth is that this world is always “lovely, dark and deep”, filled with pleasures, pain, uncertainties and distractions - tugging at us all time.

It reminds me that “I have promises to keep” to make myself happy and fulfill the commitments towards my wife, parents, siblings and friends before I actually “sleep”, die. 

In fact, I am doing it all already. I have narrowed down my social activities so as to spend more time with my beloved ones. For, sacrifices are to be made for one’s own loved ones.

Now I have this poem hanging on my office wall. I read it when I am engrossed in the busyness of my daily life. 

Each time I go through it there, I think of making the best use of “miles to go” – duty yet to be done, commitments still to be undertaken, goals yet to achieve, and promises to be fulfilled.

I have so much to do before I eventually breathe my last. As I would fulfill it all, so I called it truly a life well lived. Oh, I have miles to before I sleep! 

Miles to go!