A deathly opinion in this ‘brief’ called Life

The feeling of being left alone by time and finally being dead is a ‘must-go’ end for everyone and we supposed humans don’t have the time to ponder on death. Live as if death wouldn't come onto us. This is what we mostly think when we are going about one’s life chores. Death will come to everyone and it will someday. This feeling rejuvenated just recently, when a colleague of mine lost one of his dear one. We, just as it was in the past, went to witness the funeral at the very crematorium here in Thimphu. This is the very first time I have ever been to a funeral.

The feeling of insecurity and the supposed gods/lords of death talks stirred a spine chilling effect on me as we walked towards the place where corpses are burned. There to my amazement, I saw nine corpses on fire and each big fire had people breaking down and a colleague Rinzin had watery eyes already. I felt uneasy and stepped back. We went to greet our friend and later sat down near the fire for which we had gathered.

The Crematorium (Thimphu) 

There while sitting Choney² (there were two of them) told me simultaneously death is the ultimate equalizer and everyone irrespective of any discrimination must go through the same ordeal. So simple and realistic but yet very profound! I have known this inconvenient truth that death is inevitable and this was the very first time I have come so close to the actual death rituals. They further reiterated, “We must make a visit to the crematorium very often, just to remind ourselves that we don’t have time to think bad and be cruel to others”. “The ones who weep and think about you will remember you only for months and sometimes years at end. Then, even the one’s own kith and kin will forget as time gradually makes it course” reiterated Rinzin. I listened to them with a deep sense of acceptance that whatever they just said was profoundly true.  This remark made me revisit Sogyal Rimpoche’s The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. I am currently re-reading it.

Two Chony(ies) talked to me about how temporal and short a human life is. I have had undergone unlimited brawls and quarrels, thought sinister(ly) about people known and unknown, felt proud when my adversaries  were hurt and doomed, and you can think about all the emotional evil that I have had about people… my gosh! Did I have time for all this?

Years back, I wrote something on silence and while writing it, the word ‘brief’ matched so well with what I was trying to pin down and I earned pretty good criticisms from my write up. Now, at this point of time when I suddenly embarked on writing something down on death, this word ‘brief’ makes me uneasy and thinking about the word ‘brief’ stirs fear in me.

So the idea underpinning this update is to let ourselves be reminded that, there is no time to be bad… bad! I feel we do not have the time even to think bad about humans let alone animals in this ‘brief’ called life. Just as a smile makes a day, thinking positively and talking politely to others would make moments cherish-able in this ‘brief’ called life. If I haven’t stirred anything in you, please do make a visit to the crematorium just as I did because this is my only deathly opinion in this ‘brief’ called life. So, dear folks don’t be bad and if you have been one, just think of my tryst at the crematorium and be reminded that we must all undergo this ‘Death’ ordeal.  

Once again folks don’t be bad and I know you won’t be!

Nostalgia of the life down memory lane!

The nostalgia of the place which grew me up is so instrumental in making me metamorphose from a timid bud into a confident bloom [1]is the college I attended eight years back. Back then it was nomenclature-d as the National Institute of Education and the villagers called it the TTC.

Whatever it may be, this year I was sent to this place on some official purposes which lasted for three enjoyable days. In some snaps of the time I sneaked my evening time to pay a nostalgic visit to this institute of learning.

Some changes were obvious as I left this place in a cold December evening of 2006. There were some unfinished structural constructions then and now they have come to full bloom. The campus and the structures now look majestic and I am sure people now find this sight nostalgic in all sense of the word.

If you have read my book, I have a mention of this institution as ‘My seat of learning’. I owe my deepest gratitude to this learning institution for what I am today. My formative years in this institution made an imprint which lasts to this day in me. Besides academics, I mostly spent time on reading and trying to make sense of me in the world of journalism. Most of the inspirational ‘Lopens’ that groomed me are now elsewhere and the prominent ones which I still can remember are Mr. Jose KC, Mr. TS Powdyel, Dr. Jagar Dorji, Mr. Dorji Wangchuk, Mr. Kesang Tshering, Mr. Karma Wangchuk, Mrs. Tshering Wangmo, Mrs. Dechen, Mrs. Karma Peday, Mr. Kinley Gyeltshen, Mr. Rinchen Dorji, Mr. Kinley Dorji. ‘Kadrinchey’ to all of you for my thanks would fall short because I am treading a path which you all showed me. Mr. TS Powdyel went on to become the first democratically elected education Minister. Lopen Kinley became a Dzongrab. Dr. Jagar, the NC member from Trongsa. Mr. Kinley now holds a PhD. We keep in touch even now. Kadrinchey still!

Picture courtesy: Google

The Chorten that we help construct is prettified now. If I am not mistaken it was named the Namgyal Chorten (not very sure) and the benches that I sat in the evenings mostly by the river side are still in use. I could see a few benches occupied by trainee couples. Ahh…..I too did this… back then.  I don’t know if water is a problem in the new hostels. Back then during weekends, we wrapped our towels with some laundry and went merrily near the river singing “A-labey”.

I also saw many trainee teachers walking the alleys, cubicles and stairways with pits of smiles and bunch of papers-I know they are assignments. I also met some of my students who were undergoing the training there. We shared some words on the life they are having now. I was told most of the seniors now live on their own outside the campus and freshmen are given the opportunity for hostels. The Gompa right above the cliff from the girl’s hostel still looks majestic. Back then we carried CGI sheets for its renovation. The road leading to the Rinpung School is now black topped. The Library is now the academic block. The CAPSD, now DCRD has been relocated to Shari, I guess! Some of the curriculum officers have become chiefs in other departments, so is the case with some of my lecturers. I didn’t see any of the cooks. The mess operator back then has put up a small shop in Paro town. I met him too.

The pretty girls who were the shop owners where we used to buy our groceries have become family-ed with kids. Just on a funny note I mentioned to one, “Yalama, wai jarim yay yasinu mey” with she replying with a huge laugh.

What a feeling of sadness when you have realized now that I have grown old by the years.  I will use a line from the chapter that I mentioned. My words of thanks would fall short if I were to thank this seat of learning but thank you still. I wish I could go back in time to relive the nostalgia of the life down memory lane.

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[1] Lines from Mr. Jose KC

A being up in the heavens!

I have seen hundreds of movies (love stories) and read love story books even more. I have been a bystander for all the epic love stories that mankind has ever produced in writing. Helen of Troy, the legend of Mumtaz Mahal, the myth of Cupid, Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet,  Love letters of John Keats-the Romanticist, our very own Gasa Lamai Singye, etc… are some prominent imprints in my mind.

I too lived through times of love and I also loved one if not many-genuinely. Pardon me for the line! I am also a matter that constitutes this massive earth. I too have stories of love, despair and regrets. This is one shrewd thing I thought of writing after contemplating silence for several days. Now that I am married I don’t intend to offend anyone with this update.

I am sure all folks must have gone through what I am trying to put this through. I was genuinely in love with a girl back then. I have a mention of her in my mind always and she was the inspiration of some of my scribbles and write ups. I cherished this bond with much awe. Due to some misunderstanding and due to my overemphasized ego of course, I made her like me which I am sure. Later, I was so lost in her that I forgot she had someone even before me. This thought stirred all sorts of anger and jealousy in me. It in fact stirred everything around me affecting me in multiplicity of other things that I am used to. Such is the law of attraction, some fatal of course.

May be she kept on smiling at me and this was enough to make my day. Having her around was the most valuable and cherished thing in my life. On a lazy day, her passionate thought would make me undertake even the most arduous of the chores. I knew this feeling only when I felt for her. I knew the sense of loss when she wasn’t around. I missed her with every ounce of my heart and knew what missing someone you care for really is. I learned what was to be polite when I was with her. Although, I had her around just for a brief moment, in those brief moments I was to completely undergo a metamorphosis. She was the raison d’être that ignited all positive thoughts and opinion about the world around me.

But I don’t know whether she liked me or not back then, but now she is no more. I am mentioning of my first genuine crush on someone who now has left this earth. She left for the heavenly abode leaving me devastated and the person whom she was in love with. May her soul rest in peace and in the heavens too, I wish her to inspire and be the subject of love just as she did on earth. I have no grandeur of monuments to immortalize you like the Taj Mahal or the wooden horse of the Greeks to win you back but I just have a simple prayer to say which I must say. This has been my prayer to you and will always be as long as life breathes in me.

Dear God,

I have a being up there,

She whispers me in your heavens and in your ears,

Keep her happy my humble earthly wish breathes,

Unwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark clothes,

Of might and light and the half light,

I would spread my clothes under your feet,

But I, being poor, have only my dreams:

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams…

-Thank you WB Yeats for these immortal lines (in italics)   

What is so extra about extra marital affairs?

The spark and it’s ignition to write this update came from a very close friend of mine, who is a divorcee now. He now spends his time with another who lost her spouse some years ago. I also did think of setting pen on paper after I wildly calculated the number of separated individuals that I am familiar with and are my acquaintances. 16 is a staggering figure for a little person like me. Here’s my thought!

I have had so many hours spent into thinking, what is so extra about extra marital affairs anyway. Here’s a hypothetical situation! What would you do if you found your spouse into it? Trust has become a thing of the past, not necessarily with everyone of course.

The only thing extra as I have found out is the brawls and the squabbles that ensue after the spouse has found out one’s secret contemplation…..LoL! The thing of the past that got a mention here is the sense of trust between spouses. I have my fingers crossed if ‘no-trust’ would mean unfaithful behavior in spouses and not getting laid would mean trust. Lately, there has been a wild rumor about these extra affairs. Someone’s wife calling the supposed mistress! Husbands calling on the supposed boyfriends! So on and so forth…

Everyone knows about these affairs and no one wants to let the other know about it. These, even the gossips have made into the limelight and those listeners will enjoy listening to the gossips, not the fact reiterating this modern writer at point blank, “Don’t waste your time with explanations, people only hear what they want to hear”- Paulo Coelho

It’s a universal fact that home is not necessarily made of love and dreams. Prove me wrong! Homes and the dwellers these days have made it into social networking sites to pour out their over emphasized egoistic frustrations. Believe me, I am a living testimony to this unusual fact. I pour out on social networks quite often but not on affairs and linkages with whosoever.

Well, getting into such thing already is a disaster in the making and those currently into it breed heterogeneous problems. The couples undergoing such ordeal may wish to separate in an instant to breathe a sigh of instant relief not realizing the instant regret that may ensue, when you are children-ed of course. I knew this as some of my known acquaintances shares this unusual grief.

My conclusion is there is nothing extra about extra marital affairs anyway except for some short lived delights when one is into it. These short lived delights are for my fellow readers and bloggers to think and these delights do not last long!

Happy Delighting if any…..LoL! 

Teaching!

“Sir kho ghi awa tang nu la,” said a little girl with a curious little pair of eyes from a corner, and the one who was the “awa tangmi” was red ashamed in the other corner. This was how I was greeted when I became a teacher. What I would do next? Simple! Clean the boy, made him wash like any other mother. And yes this is what I exactly did.

Teaching in its conventional sense is much more than teaching. Teaching is the epitome of all service working profession. It can be termed otherwise as the ‘bolt of lightning that illuminates the cloud of ignorance’. Teaching also is the ‘noblest’ of all professions and this is viewed by the educated lot in our country as the true service working profession. It is being said that the true ‘Lopen’ is only a title for the Buddhist saint Guru Padmasambhava and this reverence is given to the teachers as well. Such “noble” and “holy” is the profession teaching.

Some say teaching is an art; some say teaching is a learned skill. One thing is for sure, if you are not serious about teaching, you will not succeed. As your career advances, your skills at actual teaching will improve. But what about other things involved with being a teacher? Just because you can stand up in front of a class and supposedly “teach”, it doesn’t mean that you are actually a teacher! And you have to become a teacher for the right reasons with a passion for children.

The cover of the book Centenarian

Teaching to me is much more than teaching content. It takes so much to be a teacher because once a teacher, your character teaches your children. And they are real quick in picking things up from the teacher. There is a very thin negligible line between the personal and professional life of a teacher. A teacher is under constant surveillance at school. Whatever one does as a teacher has a deep and an insightful impact on the children. This is how I perceive teaching as a teacher myself.

My humble opinion about this profession is very simple; it’s the holiest of all the professions in these ever controversial debates on profession these days. Teachers and the teaching profession deserve support, not blame in light of what is happening to teachers lately. Despite all the criticisms and the ‘blame game’ today teaching also has its special pleasures. Teachers get to be present when children discover new and exciting things about their world. They also help them unravel problems that might otherwise have kept them stuck at a certain level of intellectual development. It’s an opportunity to teach aspects of morality and professionalism that will benefit students for a lifetime.

As a teacher myself, I love teaching and I take pride in the profession that forms the largest number of civil servants in our GNH driven country.

Long live the teachers of Bhutan!

A man’s best friend!

Thimphu like any other place is dotted with stray dogs and to my relief just the other day; some youngsters came to trap them. Later in the evening they were released with a tag on their ears. It made me easier to identify them. I reside in the south of Thimphu city.

Well, the menace caused by the dogs late at night is irritating especially when you have someone ill at home. You feel like poisoning them to have some silence. But, thinking out of the box, these dogs are doing what they are supposed to do-bark! Bark at suspicious activities and people.

The barking is again aggravated by loitering people. I have identified some of the people. If it was not for the dogs, I wouldn't have words to make this update. The following are events which usually happen at nights.

The tapping boot makes me identify her as a working woman in her thirties after the disco hours.  The boot taps three times a week-Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. That’s when the barking ensues.

A young couple, I don’t know where they live but comes merrily at around midnight and lights a cigarette and stays near the car parking chatting (smilingly) with each other. Their movements make the dogs bark.

Some construction workers stay until 11 pm daily making loud noises in a typical Bengali accent and whenever their pitch goes a little high, the barking ensues.

An alto taxi arrives past midnight. He opens the door, counts his earnings with his right leg out on the road, completely drunk. Slams his car door hard and walks as if a child was asked to free write on paper. He resembles to that of a mask dancer as he is always half ‘Gho-ed’. His walking makes the dogs bark. He at times chases these dogs making me laugh my heads off.

A young man and a child of may be 8 or 9 makes the nightly walk and on their return, they are greeted with loud barks.  

A lady comes late at night in a taxi, pays the fare and looks around for dogs. If there aren’t any, she walks straight home to the next building. But if she spots some, she asks the taxi to reach her next to the stairway to her apartment.

My neighbor, who lives on the attic of where I stay, drives a posh car. She brings a lot of her friends’ home late at nights. As they chat and laugh while climbing the stairway, their noise wakes the dogs up and hence the barks.

My other neighbor, opens her curtains, lights a cigarette and puffs some fag, she throws the bud and pours water on it not to invite fire, I suppose. The sound of the water splashing on the floor wakes the dogs up. Again the barks!

These nocturnal barks of the dogs in a way helps people, cautioning them of the outside activities, certainly of some burglary and theft, late night squabbles and quarrels. Dogs as I have viewed them have made me love them and I do for the obvious reasons.

Not lastly, I can only conclude that ‘dogs are mans best friends’.

Who you love? You or your children!

I met an old friend after years and we talked about family, relationships and compromises over some beer. As our talk delved into seriousness, we talked about children and their future. Of course, I don’t have any now! He is a father of two beautiful girls. We then got into talking about the future of his girls. He expects his daughters to look after him when old and frail. I retaliated saying how can you expect your children to do that? Kids change and they change fast and I could put this shrewd fact into his brains.

Men marry in haste and women in curiosity! At least that’s what I have mostly found out to be. You have put on so much effort to keep your raison d’être intact of being in love, getting married and having children.

Upon comparison, friends declare, I have my kid in the 3^rd grade. I think you and others like you will have children when you grow old and who will look after you. I don’t know but I am not expecting my children to look after me when I am old. What worth are you when you as the supposed bread winner can’t secure an old age retirement scheme besides securing your children’s future!

Expecting your young to look after you is absurd in today’s natural world. I don’t want to offend the ones who do look after their parents now with passion. But the fact is, will all of today’s children be a responsible adult in future?  I cannot even imagine how will be mine!

In a fairly traditional family set up like ours, the supposed husbands or ‘Magpas’ don’t have the right when it comes to the wife’s family affairs. This system has been hereditary and people still hold onto such belief no matter however modern one is. The townspeople now may find this ridiculous but ask any country bumpkin about this practice. The wealth of the family should be kept within the family-that’s why the women folks not the men.

The point is people change, time changes, generations change and with it changes occur in every sphere of one’s life. So it’s high time that parents now must work a little extra to save it for the grey old days for themselves, otherwise you never know! And expecting your children to look after you when frail is now a thing of the past. Also, you cannot even defend for sure whether or not you child will be there to home you later in life! Perhaps a huge food for thought and a thing to ponder upon!

Will you now start working for the benefit of you and your children?

PS: This is just a lopsided opinion of my conversation with an old mate and readers can draw your own conclusions about the future of your own besides working for your children’s future.

Home, Hearth and Heart!

An old Bhutanese maxim reads, “There is no such place as your home, be it under a bridge”. After years of staying away, working and making a living for myself, I completely forgot that I grew up in a place elsewhere from where I now work. For years at end I have lived in a remote place, and then got transferred to a semi-urban town. Now, I reside in Bhutan’s largest city. All this change in places didn’t deter my nostalgia of going back down memory lane. I made sure I pay my annual visit to this place and relive all the past that grew me up.

This place was instrumental (in all sense of the word) in my formative years. Everyone has a place of this formative grooming and then live elsewhere as this maxim puts it, “A child is at peace with his mother, but must leave even if peace prevails”.

I got beaten up by people, beat up people here. I, for the first time knew what infatuation is and what can love really mean in this place. I learnt how to drive in this place. I knew how to play basketball in this place and I even got my driving license in this place. The school which was an elementary school then is a middle school now. The current principal in this school was my Geography teacher, Mr. DS Tamang.

I lied to my parents in this place, got pats for the jobs and work well done both at home and at school in this place, bullied my siblings in this place and got smacked for doing that many a time from my mom. Now when I look back at the childhood I spent, it brings a faint smile on my face and I cherish those moments with much awe. There is always a sense of sentimental attachment in this place and all my naughty friends back then are all working and famili-ed now.

We do gather at times to relive our past and talk about all the naughty things we did. One criminal act that comes to my mind even now is, me and a best friend of mine stole the neighbor’s fowl and ate it near the Wangchu River. Some days later, we heard of getting someone punished for our acts. This remains a secret to this day. My best friend is a successful Entrepreneur here in Thimphu. We talk of this when we meet. All this adds to the growing up anecdotes. 

My dad still works for the Hydro Power Plant in this place. The place I have been trying to mention is, yes you have guessed it, and you are right! Chukha!

Righteousness

Disclaimer: This is my first ever an attempt to write a short story and I hope you will like it. The characters and events in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Reader’s discretion is advised.

This is a story of Dawa, an occasional drinker and Dema, a dominating wife. People considered Dawa, a daily drinker. He drank when he had money to spare and in times of no-money days, he stayed home. He drank for fun. One thing that stood above all things in his life was ‘friends’. All this while he had been in the company of friends through thick and thin- in grief and in pain-in fun and in laughter! He was unaware that a momentary care and concern from his supposed wife would make him witness multiplicity of family problems later. The drunk had truth in his argument but, however genuine and truthful a man may be, who would consider it to be worthy if a man drinks occasionally. He was working for a consultancy firm. He had been married for just about a year.

Dema on the other was also a working woman. Every kith and kin were surprised at her. How can a pimp-like-husband get such a nice lady for wife?  Nice! Dema happened to be the youngest among her siblings and her childhood resembles to that of a ‘rags to riches’ story. One weakness that women have is the tendency to shed tears easily. Over some petty reasons she would cry and let people around know of her self contained righteousness. If women had temper, Dema would embody the epitome of all temperament. Out of outbursts on some previous dissatisfaction over some issues, she would make faces and after having nothing to say, she would weep all night as if to let neighbors and other people know of her fictitious righteousness.

On many of the brawls over continual nights, people always thought badly about Dawa branding him with drinks and alcohol. A man who made his wife weep, and most commonly unhappy became a subject of gossip in the community. For a working couple, although salaried, they had difficulty making ends meet and he on one occasion tweeted, “Why are there many months after every salary?”

Dawa would forget the next day what had just happened but Dema would ignore him for days without exchanging a word. These incidences made him resort to drinking even more, whenever he had the opportunity. Friends of Dawa had him warned about drinks to avoid problems and complications. But only Dawa knew of the cold at home. He was dying a slow death. Meanwhile, Dema garnered favorers from people who knew them. All blame went to Dawa for his habit.

After months of the status quo, Dawa succumbed and died in his sleep with a bottle of beer by his bed holding a note on his chest;

“Dear,

When I was single I usually drank for fun and after being with you for a year, I don’t remember drinking for fun. Had you told me not to, I would have but you never took a heed to understand me and your judgment always came in some form of squabble, that too for a year. This made me lose all speck of faith that I had in you. I could not afford to lose you but I never thought of losing myself for you. I want you to know that all this while I was living for you and now to make you worthy of your womanhood, I will die for you.”

The reason for his apparent death was alcohol and every one believed in this shrewd truth. But Dema went on to remarry and there too, the brawls continued. For Dawa, nobody remembered him except his own soul. The life of a seemingly happy individual ended in an instant. The ways of the world made him give in to what he resorted to and ultimately, those associated with the dead were at ease for the loss. Such is the way of the world.  Now, at this juncture friends of the dead were confused whether to believe in Dema’s life or Dawa’s death. Dawa lived a melancholic life, that’s for sure but is Dema living a life of contentment…that is for my fellow readers to decide!

Some are better left alone!

The distractions, the noise, the squabbles, and the constant cry of the sounds from automobiles even after midnight are a common phenomenon in the alleys of Olakha, Chang Jalu, Barbesa and in most parts of the city. People have become immune to these noises and the sight of young people going awry these days is as common as the common cold. Despite having the law enforcement in every populated areas of the city, it seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

A line of cars were smashed in the rear just recently, stolen tires have become a lucrative business for night hawkers. I was approached by a young boy who wanted to sell a pair of Apollo tires with the drum attached for ‘twice as good and half the price’. I knew it instantly, it was stolen. To him I politely declined saying I already bought one and not to offend him I told him you should have told me a little early. He smiled and went on his way.

Off all the young people, girls have become a little awry at nights. They drink openly, smoke openly and if you happen to visit discos, the floor would be crammed with girls. Most Karaoke bars would be filled with women and girls more than men. On a mundane stroll around the Norzin Lam lane, one can see young people with disturbing hairstyles and with unusual colors; forget about the garment they put on. I have heard of Pony tail in women’s hairstyles but it was the first time to have seen a pony tailed man. What a frightful sight?

Young people talk to elderly as if they were on a mission to rob them or crucify them. Children in schools now know more about PS and K-Pop than subject verb agreement. Most young people now spend more time on Facebook than on other educational activities. The good old habit of reading is literally non-existent. If someone doesn't qualify for further studies, young people pursue their studies outside not to excel academically but to sight see and have fun for years at end.

In my formative years of schooling, it took us just a smack or two to get us into behaving like humans and if you do this now, your child will have you jailed. Tough times! If you have no idea on how many or how much of the young, please make a visit to Kuensel Phodrang after the disco hours. Rains won’t deter our young people. The roads will be full and there would be mobile shops selling all sorts of drinks and local fast foods.

The elderly sleep a worry less night when the young are actually going astray at nights. Who knows what is in the making or what might be happening? And perhaps, I wouldn't be surprised, a few years down the line, if the Apollo tire burglar becomes a successful car dealer. Let us just wait and watch, because for some no remedy seems to be working. They are just better left alone.  

                                                                                   

Food for thought: Teaching kids to count is fine but teaching them what counts is difficult!

Nearly a victim: Decoyed!

I take pride in the news that was brought to the fore when Passu, a teacher friend wrote in his blog about local sex videos going viral among the app users, WE CHAT. I even witnessed the BBS program titled, Cybercrime: Private affairs going public. I was wondering if at a personal level how many of us are modest enough to report this to the ‘concerned authorities’. After watching the program, I was confused who this ‘Concerned authority’ is.

Well, apps are inevitable but how many of us make a good USE of it. Rather, going by the news and trends, most of us MISUSE and ABUSE it. My update today is neither about applications, programs or neither gadgets nor it has anything to do with these ICT stuff.

On the night of 21^st July, I was waiting for someone near the Norling building. The parking lot was filled with parked-empty cars. I was listening to some western oldies on a radio station and I was leaning behind hoping to take a short nap. After some numbers I saw a pretty girl in her mid twenties (by her look) who fell down near my car-outside with her hand bag stuffs scattered all over. As she tried to gather things and put things in her bag, she looked at me. That’s when I could make it that she was drunk.

She instantly stood up and knocked the front glass of my car-as I had it locked from the inside. As she knocked she uttered out, “Wai, nga che lu kay nang sey lap een”. I was like, “Excuse me, Choe ga moh?” She reiterated, “Ng ache lu kay nang sey malab ba tey” “Ngayi charo tsu” and then she stopped saying anything. Seriously I don’t know who this girl was and I have never met her before. Then“Go chi si” simultaneously trying to open my door from the outside. I had my hairs upright thinking what on earth is happening!

Then I opened the lock for my wife who was looking at the girl. She asked me if I knew her. I assured I don’t. Then I narrated the whole incident as we drove back home, still unable to believe a stranger talking to me in the dead of the night. Then she narrated an incident, sometime in 2010 a cabbie was robbed in a same way. A beautiful girl boarded a cab and asked the cabbie to drop her to some place, not realizing that it was a decoy. As the cab approached her designated location, there were a group of youngsters waiting. She asked to stop the cab and instantly these boys robbed the cabbie. This incident further shook me completely.

The point is this sort of things can happen to anyone. This update is to make the general public aware of the mischief our youngsters commit in times of desperation.

Please be aware of this sort of things, I know you will. Keep safe folks!

Responsibly Responsible!

I am one of the hundreds of thousands of motorist plying the expressway on a daily basis considering where I put up in the Capital city. This express way has made travelling easier considering what I do for a living. A few weeks ago, I put an update on facebook, ‘Welcome to Thimphu greets the popular Thimphu gate; next greeting-the stinks from the sewerage treatment plant’. The foul smell is inevitable for road users but imagine the plight of those residing nearby the plant. Many a time, because of the smell, road users try to escape the discomfort by speeding along the treatment plant endangering other road users. This is just a passerby’s observations.

I think it’s high time we put the word responsible before everything. Consider the followings for instance;

Driving down and looking at the oncoming car with the cruelest look, when you were the one on the wrong side of the traffic-Responsible Driving!

Offices compile, detail and submit everything professional to the next higher office. And when time for the details come, that higher office asks again to resubmit what was submitted-Responsible office management!

When there’s work, everyone takes the back seat. But when works come with some perk-package, everyone wants to do it-Responsible work ethics!

Teenagers loiter and get into all sorts of behavior, all nasty of course. Parents think they are doing well by pumping and meeting up all their demands-Responsible parenting!

Married and relatively happy couples engage themselves in extra marital affairs without the knowledge of one another-Responsible Relationship!

Bars and restaurants serving alcoholic beverages to minors despite the standing order ‘No alcohol below 18’- Responsible Consumption! Creating a Bacchus[i] Kingdom.

Offices favoring friends and relatives on service delivery letting other people remain stranded in long lines.-Responsible Public service delivery.

Time for being responsibly responsible folks!

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[i]The Greek god of Wine/Alcohol

What sinks in is what has been listened to! My tryst with an elected representative!

One of the high ranking official (incredibly high) paid a chance and a scheduled visit to my school and the purpose of the visit redeemed after the official left. His advices, the so called, “Kalop Zangpo” (Good advice formally!) left us (teachers) bemused if not preoccupied and left us for thinking.  He had all the tenacity of being a high ranking official, especially the posture in which he presented in front of a thousand plus students along with fifty or so staff.

Motivation was the talk of the morning and he presented to us that motivation was the ultimate driving force behind all undertakings and endeavors-a common fact re iterated! I know on the other that if something is good (The Kalop Zangpo), it’s worth telling twice.

But when the ‘worth telling twice’ thing is repeated again and again at the mercy of listeners going awry in thoughts, one cannot help but generate mixed feelings about the speaker who assumes a momentary detoxification forgetting that we are all made up of flesh and bones, if not blood! His narrative ability on advises is quite commendable as he can put the most un-humble of the listeners to sleep. The instant question on my mind was, how did he garner votes during his politicking campaign?

We lent our ears for all that he had to say and he offered us his to answer ours. But, when question 1 came in, he reflected the same to the other subordinate who was just behind. Never answered question 1 of course!

Considering the official’s tryst in our ministry, he was an old veteran. While trying to answer Question 1, he misquoted JFK. It should have been, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country”. I unquote-with all due respect! He thus misquoted, “If you cannot………….” naming the great American statesman JFK. Absurdity! Also never took in Question 2 and hurriedly left faintly murmuring I have someone waiting for me. If a mass of people genuinely talk, not necessarily good, about someone, it should be perceived that everything is wrong with that someone.  The talks came from various anecdotal incidents where he held such visits and gatherings.

An inspiration must be aroused in listeners when such decorated official speaks to a curious gathering. Instead, a de-motivating seed was sown in our hearts. I wrote-out what my colleagues spoke-out from their hearts-out. So while listening I will now filter people, who to listen to whom not to. What sinks in the heart is what one has listened to genuinely. This is the story of my tryst with an elected representative.

So dear folks happy listening to your own representatives! Have a good day ahead!

“The most basic of all human needs is the need to understand and be understood. The best way to understand people is to listen to them."— Ralph Nichols