Casting vote based on my mother’s recommendation

This morning, I received a phone call from my mother. All my parents live in a beautiful village called Chuzargang in Sarpang. It’s two-hour walk from Gelephu town.

But this is quite unusual of my mother. She asked me which National Council candidate was on my mind to cast on my vote for. I replied her, reflecting hard, “I haven’t yet decided on it. I am still thinking over it.” Three days to the 2013 NC Election, and here I couldn’t decide my vote.

There are five aspiring NC candidates contesting from my dzongkhag. That’s all what I know. I had never expected that I would be so poor in making the choice of my NC candidate this year. I don’t know much about them - their aspirations and manifestoes. I haven’t met them in person, too.

I read about them on newspapers, about their CVs and manifestoes. But I can’t really make up my mind to vote based on these materials. The brutal truth is that I missed the debate of the NC candidates contesting from Sarpang dzongkhag.

I blame myself for this because I was in a meeting that evening. But I too blame the ECB and BBS TV for the poor show management. Due to lots of distractions in between the debates, the shows have become way longer and inconveniencing for viewers.

I know that to understand the strengths of each contesting candidate, to make informed decisions and vote for the right candidate is imperative. But it’s also the duty of the ECB and other relevant agencies to facilitate and advocate better participation of general public in the politics.

My mother continued, “Vote for…That person is really good.” So here, I’m casting my vote based on my mother’s recommendation.

Photo courtesy: BBS

Dear Seday

I’m covering a book here – a gorgeous book by dear Bhutanese friend, Ugyen Gyeltshen. Dear Seday. The title of this book says it all - it’s a novella written in the epistolary style. To my surprise, the entire book is one letter. This letter, yes, this book astoundingly chronicles the author’s remotest memoirs, his delicious childhood days.   

Should you wish to read this book, I drop a few more lines here. Its narration though. Nadola, 32, is the protagonist in the story. He works as a road supervisor at Thrumshingla Pass. It’s “pouring rain” one day and the road gets blocked.

On that day, at that moment, he sees Seday, his high school sweetheart, inside a car stranded on the roadblock. By the way, he hasn’t met her for the past 15 years. It makes him jump in the rain. And instantaneously, he starts writing a letter to her.

He tells his readers that this letter “should have been written fifteen years ago.” It hits you with a fresh curiosity. Why he didn’t write it before? What has happened in their love? How they separated? Does he still yearn for her love? Many questions roll on your head, and this would urge you to turn pages of this book one by one until you know what happens to the last word on the last page.   

And his letter to Seday is this gorgeous book, Dear Seday!

As Nadola writes the letter, the book moves slowly, sumptuously, across the terrain of different places and time – his life’s journey that he has travelled in the last 15 years. And everything in the past unfurls. It takes you back to 15 years of time in a lovely place of the Khaling countryside in eastern Bhutan where Nadola is born and raised. Through his story, the book depicts the typical Bhutanese life in the rural farms and the difficulties of rural parents to send their children to school.

You would be brilliantly amazed at the way Ugyen Gyeltshen could remember and write down all his childhood and school memories. This is, indeed, a strange talent. He brings flashbacking everything; moreover, he has woven all that together beautifully, humorously. His first encounter with television. Nicknaming teachers. Night hunting. Digging in girls’ garbage. Befriending school cook for foods. His crush on Seday.   

Let me tell you one more thing. His words are full of bluntness, straight and punctuated with honesty in this raw and beautiful book. You’d feel like you’re listening to one of your best buddies. So much of his book reminds me of what was my childhood. It seemed to me that I was reliving my childhood life once again. And the story he narrates becomes a part of mine too.

This book is more than a love letter to Seday. It’s also about the change of time - from adolescent to man, from remote to urban, from being naïve to facing the reality, from being young and shy to growing old and truth-telling.

Final words. I almost can’t tell you more about this book than ‘read it’. I will tell you why. Because Nadola, the main character of the book, is so humble and dear to us that you would simply accompany him to the end.

About author: Ugyen Gyeltshen is an engineer by profession. Today, he is happily married. His second book is almost complete, and will be launched very soon. He is on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/Tukuli. Know more about Dear Seday: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Dear-Seday

Alcohol problem in Bhutan

Yesterday when I was going through my pictures that I took in the last one year I was quite surprised.  I have taken pictures of these people. All of them were drunk, lying in the Thimphu Street. And here Sonam Jatso has rightly pointed out:

"We need to deal with alcohol problem in our country soon. It is destroying our people—our families, our youth, our children, and our society. I hope and pray that the next government—elected leaders and parliamentarians—takes this up on a top priority."  

 

Note: The last two pictures were taken by Sonam Jatso and Tashi Namgay respectively.                                                                                                                 

On Liebster Award

I say a very deep and heartfelt thank you to Kathleen Kenna for recognizing and nominating my blog on the Liebster Award (http://stateofgrateful.wordpress.com/category/liebster-award/). And here, I’m overwhelmingly excited to answer thoughtful 11 questions that you posed for me. However, today, I’m going to answer only one of them. My answer is:

1. Why were you inspired to begin blogging?

My parents were illiterate. So to speak. My siblings were not widely read, not book smart. In short, I was brought up in a family (locality too) where the importance of literature was not known. It’s never encouraged though. But this passion of writing has been there in me, from then, since very young.

Who or what inspired me writing? How? I don’t know. More aptly, I don’t remember. Perhaps - my friends or my teachers or those books I read, or my resilient imagination. Maybe the locality – its simplicity, beauty and vigour - where I grew up. Or, it could be all.

To add one more thing - I’d scribble on everything. Always. Either on a piece of torn paper. On tree leaves. On walls. On floors. On tables. In my note books. Everything. Everywhere. I’d write down anything that comes out of my mind. The truth is that I was a shy young boy, an introvert. And this is how I talked, expressed myself and interacted with the world around me. Scribbling. Writing down.

Unlike other kids, I always used to pay a huge respect to all kinds of literary materials. I kept letters, school magazines, newspapers, books, autograph books, cards, diaries – all in my tiny wooden box. And I could do anything to protect them. I had never let them be used for wrapping doma. Even not let them plastered on the walls. It’s quite strange for my parents and siblings.

In school days, besides writing love letters for my friends, I’d contribute articles for the school magazines. And how thrilled was I to see my own articles published there. My parents couldn’t read, yet I’d run with the magazine to them, all happy, and unfold it to show my articles.

My mother would give a glance at it and smile back at me, proud. But my father would take the magazine from me and try reading it. Curious. He’d mumble a few first sentences, give up reading it and return the magazine to me. One day, he told me (I still remember his words), “Congratulations son! Keep writing…you can become lyonpo in future.” 

Back in my village, those days, our parents couldn’t wish more than their children becoming a civil servant, a minister too. Typical of my village though. My father’s wish was no exception. But deep inside me, I wanted to become a different person in life. I always wanted to live a humble life - reading lots of books and honing the skills of writing. Nothing more.

However, the year 2008 was the biggest crossroad of my life. My passion for writing even impeded in the job that I wanted to take up. In one hand, I wanted to join a good and secure job (civil service). On the other hand, I’ve this passion to protect and hone. I was – in a word – confused.

It’s absolutely for this passion that I joined a newspaper as a journalist. It did serve my passion, I was happy. Coz I was writing. And more importantly, writing for my living. But after a little over a year later, I quit the newspaper and decided to join the civil service. I don’t know why I did that. Sometimes, everything is just not fair. Isn’t it?

I regretted and grieved a lot over this decision. At that moment, at least. Because I thought it’d be the end of the thing I loved most – my passion for writing. And then, for better or worse (of course, it is for the better) I joined the civil service. This new job only asked me to do official write-ups, correspondence and implementing programs and projects. No creative writing. I was sad.

Two months into the civil service, July 2010, this blog was born. There are scores of people to thank for this. My friends. My colleagues. And a handful of Bhutanese bloggers. For their support, inspiration. Of course this blog lifted back my spirits immensely.

It’s been almost three years that I’ve been blogging; also working as a civil servant. Now I learned that anywhere I can practise this healthy act of writing – be it in the journalism, civil service, my village, school, college. Even as a kid, as a lover, as an adult, as a loner, as a humble person, as a novice thinker.

Today, at 29, I’m just a naïve writer still learning how to write. I’m still learning how to put everything into words. And I take out my camera out there, anywhere, and take pictures. Because at times my digital lens tell the stories better than my words. I feel what I’m doing is right for me. This is what I wanted in my life – a humble life and pursuing my passion of writing.  

Tulip in Bhutan

It’s a beautiful day, today, in Thimphu. A bright day. A few patches of clouds that scatter above the valley hide the sun. I ran towards my office, this morning, like always. But oh, I spotted tulips blooming in a garden above the road at Changangkha that I walk on.

You can never guess how much I love this flower. They are open, striking red, and have delighted me with its exotic colours of glory. They really are the flowers of spring. The truth is that I didn’t expect Bhutanese people grow tulips here. Also, I didn’t know tulips would grow in Bhutan, that’s also in a garden, out in the open. I only heard about the tulip known as ‘Queen of Bhutan’ which was a gift by the Bhutan+partners to Her Majesty the Queen of Bhutan on the occasion of the Royal wedding in October 2011.

I took out my camera, marched above the road, and try taking its pictures. The garden is well fenced. I tried jumping over the fence, but a dog barked at me. I was scared. After hearing the dog’s bark, a beautiful woman sprinted out of the house. I looked back at her, gesturing that I loved her flowers and taking the pictures. She smiled back at me. Leaning over the fence, I took a few shots of the tulips.  

Phurba Thrinlay

He, indeed, needs no introduction. I’m talking about Phurba Thrinlay. Yes, the comedian king who is so hugely popular in Bhutan. Almost all of us know and love him, don’t we? He is, unanimously, known for his hilarious jokes and sidesplitting dialogues. You can instantly recognize him wherever he’d be – street, restaurant, stage, TV, radio. And at the mere sight of him, you would laugh hysterically.

Quite strangely, he is paid exceedingly higher and respected than any lead actors of the Bhutanese film industry. The truth is that most people go to watch movies only because he is in - to laugh non-stop at his jokes, to get amused with his facial expressions.

And here, I’ve a delicious news to all those Bhutanese cinema-goers and fans of Phurba Thrinlay! Wangchuk Talop, a prominent Bhutanese filmmaker is brining to you a feature film titled “Phurba Thrinlay’. Presented by Yangchen Pictures and camera by Chencho Dorji, it will be released soon at City Cinema in Thimphu. Intended to be comical and humorous, this film is an attempt to give Bhutanese people an ideal ironic and circumstantial comic sense. The film is titled “Phurba Thrinlay’ given the present status of Phurba Thrinlay as the living comic icon of the Bhutanese society. Given its name, Phurba Thrinlay himself is to be engaged in the role.

Let me narrate the storyline of this exciting film, shortly though. Phurba Thrinlay and Tandin (Tandin Wangchuk) are good friends. As artists, they are working together on a film project under a producer named Kado. Glamorous Yangdon (Tshering Zam) who has recently been crowned Miss Bhutan, 2012 joins the project as the female actor. Phurba Thrinlay falls in love with Yangdon. However, Tandin manages to win over Yangdon’s love despite Phurba Thrinlay earnestly pleading him to spare her for him.  Driven by pride and jealousy, Phurba Thrinlay resorts to mastering “Ga-nga” (a mantra cast on someone to lure his/her feelings and attraction) and successfully wins over Yangdon’s love by feeding her ga-tse.

It is known that when the spell is cast on a foodstuff, it becomes “ga-tse”, the food of attraction. And when the ‘ga-tse’ is given to and eaten by someone, one can lure his or her love and feelings.

The film gets into an unexpected climax. Now Yangdon is obsessed by the spell and gets sensationally attracted to Phurba Thrinlay.

And we worry…does Yangdon leave Tandin for Phurba Thrinlay? Will Tandin learn to dispel the hypnotic ga-nga over Yangdon? Will he win her love back? What will happen after that? Questions in your head go on and on. Now, there are so many things you would like to ask and curious about to know in this film.

However, this film has another striking twist. Should I talk about it here? No no. If I narrate the entire storyline of the film here, it’d bore when you to go to watch the film.

I don’t hesitate to say that this film can be the real cinematic treat for you this beautiful spring. It has all the technical elements to become one of the biggest blockbusters of the year. For surety, the comedian king, Phurba Thrinlay will keep you amused, gasped and entertained throughout the film never like before.          

In the stillness and silence

I spend much of my week muddling through endless tasks. You say it and the list goes on: office works, attending meetings, incessant phone calls, doing household chores and clearing bills. I just wonder (at times) that I was set on for a rollercoaster ride - that simply goes on and on. Filled with constant ups and downs, tears and laughter, joy and sadness.

And you just can’t imagine how much I love weekends. Weekends, for me, are the perfect time to set myself on a predetermined task, un-dictated by time and circumstances around me. I’m much luckier, too, that I live here in Motithang. Because just a few minutes walk uphill I can step into the most serene and beautiful hill of Thimphu.

This is the place where every weekend I march into for a quick stroll. The hill overlooks the entire Thimphu City. It is, undeniably, an ideal escapism from the stresses of modern city life; yes, from the rollercoaster ride of life.

Like on all other weekends, last Saturday, I walked on a meandering footpath here breathing in the spring’s fresh fragrance. This footpath leads to somewhere faraway. I don’t know precisely where. And I’ve my hands shoved into my jacket’s pockets – whistling a song that I really don’t know.

I kept walking and walking with no precise destination in my mind. By the way, I was just enjoying the walk as much as those birds wheeling around the spring’s blossoms. I tell you that walking here is healing and all that, my mind at peace. I can’t explain you how, for it’s something I cannot put into words.

Should you aspire for a meditative mind or a peaceful moment after your stressful week, perhaps a walk here be proposed.