On a journey from Kheng Buli to Rendibi: Revisiting the Degala Train!

Taking a recess en route Phulabi

I journeyed into the woods of Kheng again after spending years of my initial appointment. It was a nostalgic appointment as I was deputed to conduct the national council elections of a remote ‘Phulabi’-A very remote village in Upper Kheng., Gears, backpacks, sleeping bags, provisions, transportation and other election materials! All set and done! I and my team of eight people went for the said event. We were dropped by another friend who was again deputed for the transportation of election officials.

My team near the polling station

We resumed our journey from the Election office to ‘Buli’ and then to a shanty settlement of ‘Churmlung’. Other teams who were deputed to some other remote villages had their porters and ponies waiting. But the Porter who was to pick my team was missing. This made me lose my temper. The other team had a spare pony and we loaded our provisions. We climbed downhill and after crossing the river, the porter was there with four ponies to my relief. 

The elections went on to be a success and no mistakes or errors whatsoever were reported. Satisfied with the job well done, we sat down and rejoiced in some ‘Bangchang’ that our host made for us. 

One of the many poles that dot the Degala school

After the elections, our team decided to take the downhill route towards the road point and this gave me an elated feeling that I will again see my former school. When I actually reached the school, we calculated we had walked downhill for almost six hours which made me and my team-fatigued! At a glance I could see electric poles, many electrical wires and other electrical equipments in Degala school. This was what I had wished for Degala school years back and I do have a mention about this in my book! 

 Some of the people might have heard, “Lopon Lobzang jon zai cho” and to make me miss my time in Degala, they had brought some boiled eggs and Bangchang. We stayed in the school for the night and walked all the way towards Rendibi.     

I have known the literal meaning of NOSTALGIA and the experience of going and revisiting down memory lane!

The (Anupam Kher) lady and the (Sridevi) girl of Hongkong market-Abuse in action!

Disclaimer: I am not a hindi movie fan nor I watch hindi soups but the terminologies used in this write up perfectly describes the situation. Reader’s discretion is advised and you can draw your own conclusions over my observation.

The other day, on a mundane drive just above the Norzin Lam lane, I saw an elderly rich lady and a frightened young girl. Her appearance made me conclude that this girl is either her house maid or a nanny. I stopped for a while attending to a call and then I saw this elderly lady take out half and untidily packed luggage’s similar to those carried during our ancestors time, from her polished land cruiser. The whole scene made me think that the lady is throwing this babysitter out of her house. 

The lady was a fierce looking master and the girl, helpless and almost in the brink of tears. The lady with expensive outfits and a half jacket was taking things out as if she was throwing some waste out of her house. The girl standing beside her car looked at those things with unimaginable helplessness. I could see injustice, ill treatment and misery in her eyes. 

In the following paragraphs, I have voiced my opinion and I am in no way qualified to say whether the girl or the lady was wrong.

How do Thimphu-ites get these house maids and nannies? Did the urban rich and middle class bring them to be mistreated? If nannies make some curable mistakes, does this mean that the masters are well behaved in conduct? All middle class require nannies for babysitting and this has become a social ill making young innocent girls become victims of child abuse. If our society accepts such practices and if we cannot do away without nannies at home, then it is not the problem with those nannies but with their seemingly wealthy masters. The masters want their workers at home to behave in the best acceptable manner and they show no responsibility as a biological parent. Children of such homes are what we now see as hooligans and push outs of society with cash. Cash is what they got when parents had no time to spare and cash is what they have as friend. They became push outs in the very first place for the pride associated with cash they got from their inhuman wealthy dads and moms. 

Can the elderly be more civilized and human while dealing with nannies? I am told of some Bhutanese nannies in the west experiencing the same there. To those, nanny-ing abroad, I say that your Bhutanese masters here are in no different situation. This is bloody slavery and inhuman in the most developed town of Bhutan. Most abuses go unnoticed and unreported but now people are coming in public to ridicule, mock and insult the very people who took care of their tempered babies and spoilt brats. 

And coming back to the scene of abuse, how I wished, she could have settled this at her home treating the girl more humanely. I saw Anupam Kher in that lady and Sridevi in the girl after watching Chalbaaz (A hindi film) a decade ago. Dear readers, do you have a nanny at home? If yes, then please behave! As informed citizens let us not multiply more Anupam khers and Sridevis! LOL but this no laughing matter!

Good day folks!

Madam! You are missed!

One cold weekend, with nothing to do, a likeminded colleague of mine and I decided to explore the recently opened highway out of curiosity. This undefined feeling is nostalgic and memorable, but the idea flopped. Then in the evening our office had arranged a dinner for all of us because one of our philosophical colleague, let me just name her ‘Madam’, was leaving on transfer to some other place. We had nothing so extraordinary about the dinner. Drinks were on one’s own side and for the food it was shared-this is our school culture. 

People gathered! Some started off with tea and many like me with a few pegs. Then, it was time to play Mr. Nice guy. We gathered in an already crammed room and then it began-speeches, opinions, laughter, gossips and stupid things that took place during her tenure, all in the name of farewell. I personally had nothing to say but wished had I spoken my share of the farewell. Then instantly, everyone got out and started devouring the buffet that was laid and thrashed in the other room. I and some hungry beasts ate last. 

One by one, many started to leave and a few remained sipping over what was left before dinner. I got an opportunity to talk to Madam’s honey bunny. In the midst of our conversation, I insisted on to make him try another shot, to this I felt elated that we shared the same brand, if you know what I mean! You talk to a wealthy- the overpowering tone will make you hesitant and awkward. The wealthy I know has this sense of pride in their bones. But the man beside me is wealthy in knowledge, exposure and experiences. He mentioned of his time back in the United States. He also mentioned of the attitudes chhilips keep for brown people like us especially residing in south East Asia. That’s when I knew about my concept and consideration of the west. There is nothing glamorous about it and the people there, eat work, sleep work and work work! 

For an office worker, if the tram arrives late by a few seconds- his days work will get delayed by a few seconds. Such is the timed life of the west. Thank you to this man for enlightening another man, who just moments ago thought that he is the all knowing saint in the group. Thank you once again. 

Then, the time for final farewell, it was getting late. We hugged wishes and misses and told madam that we are just a phone call apart. Later I was told that this was my second hug. I was a bit high on my sips. On our way back home, we again exchanged hugs and misses. Then in a drunken mind something un-drunk emerged. A few who drove cars agreed to see off, our now missed madam, to some distance. 

We took some beer, a bottle of lady wine and a few pegs in an empty mineral water bottle. After we reached the spot which is quiet-ly famous for secretive happenings under the cover of dark, we stepped out, handed over the drinks and then a few started to circumnavigate here and there singing and moving in the typical Bhutanese circle, at least by our standard, that’s the farewell norm. 

Again after a few more hugs and misses, we went to our homes and called the day off. I don’t really know if this mention makes any sense to my readers but for the people who were living this moment with me during that night, is nostalgic. And for my madam who is away now, I have the following to say and I mean this in every sense of the word;

God made us friends because he knew our mom couldn’t handle us as siblings. Miss you madam!

Does money rekindle love?

All of us have cousins who are like-minded and lend hand when we undertake whatever chores. It can vary beginning household chores, washing cars or going for a new years’ bash to some distant place. People feel safe when one is with kith and kin instead of friends. Even the ‘say-holders’ in a typical Bhutanese  family set up will agree to whatever you do if the company you have is either a kith or a kin. 

Can this be the official help cousins render? Sometime in life help may come knocking at the doorstep but we are so blinded that we think about our cousins and forget the immediacy of human beings around. I have an all-knowing-saint cousin. She was an academic misery, her first marriage failed, and while lamenting over her misfortune, she met a friend and took her for work to some island nation in south East Asia. After working there for a couple of years, her earnings there translated into a plot of land in P/ling and a small one in Thimphu. A family car for her dad! Now a cottage under construction in the capital city, away from town!

This girl made good money for her people back home and they were at the epitome of their happiness. Her mother with a grin from one ear to the other charged with a sense of pride told me, “Gocho, ja ga zamin ghi, ata nan ghi sho hang away ya?” (Look at my daughter! What did you do brother?) The irony is I was working when her daughter didn’t even get a job. One can ponder on the intent of that lady, and this lady happens to be my closest maternal aunt.  

“Gila moh, jang ta to-lop ghi lang pu mala ni” (Oh! Is it, my salary is barely enough to make ends meet). But the tone in which I uttered those words were not impressive, she changed her expression. 

I am neither against the bounty my cousin brought back home nor do I intend to claim some shares from her. Let it be and this will remain forever embedded in our hearts that someone could at least make some pretty good money. Appreciation! But let me come back to the question, “What have I done?” She should have asked ‘What have I not done?’

During my initial years in my job, for four consecutive years, I sent mom on pilgrimages to the neighboring country along with her friends, including that lady.  I just didn’t send her I sent her good money. I send money to my mother frequently, opened a savings account in her name and taught her how to withdraw cash from ATMs, although I have a working dad. I have dedicated a book in her name in which a chapter is solely written for her. And some day I will build a nice bungalow for her in a serene place and not in a dusty-hustle-bustling town.  

Morally, it falls on the children to look after their aging parents but it is ethically wrong to advertise this in a social family set up where most members are after the green note-the world’s most powerful currency. Such comparison or people making such comparisons will make them forget the basic values that god vested in us-love, care and feelings! Love for your own child revitalized and rekindled just for money. I can summarize my write up in the following line, please do ponder;

When an elderly woman talks about money more than anything, she has lost the most beautiful charm of her motherhood, think again!

 Thanks for reading!

Frozen travel to the east

Palela

The serene village of Tangsibi

A frozen creek in Ura

Read the inscription

Ura

Thrumshingla

Sengor

The legendary Namling Brak(cliff)

The Zhongar Dzong ruins

Yotongla

Weeling village, Trongsa

Trongsa Dzong

Thoroughly frozen