~Life~

Ohh! Life!

How dear you are?

And how near you were?

Cajole the flickering lamp,

Under the gusty wind.

Ohh! Life!

How valued you are?

And how indispensable you were?

Cling on the slacken rope,

At the extreme of height.

Ohh! Life!

How cherished you are?

And how extortionate you were?

Dive the cavernous ocean,

With a weary limbs.

རེ་ལི་ནང་འགོ་ཐོག་འགྱོ་བའི་ཚོར་སྣང་་་་་་་་་་འཕྲོ་མཐུད།།

     

འཕྲོ་མཐུད།།་་་་་་་་ དེའི་ཤུལ་ལས་རེ་ལི་ལྷོད་འབད་ ནང་ན་འཛུལ་བའི་སྐབས་ལུ་ཡང་ རང་ལུ་ ཧེ་མ་འགྱོ་བའི་ཉམས་མྱོང་མེད་ནི་འདི་གིས རེ་ལི་སྒྲོམ་ཆུང་ ལེ་ཤཱ་ ཅོག་འཐདཔ་མཐོངམ་ལས་ ཀུ་ལི་ཚུ་ལས་རྒྱབ་སྐྱོར་ལེན་མ་ཚུགས་པ་ཅིན་ ཅ་ལ་དང་མི་དང་འབད་བའི་བསྒང་ལས་ མགུ་འཐོམས་ ནང་ན་འཛུལ་ཚུགས་ཚུགས་པ་ལུ་ ལུས་ཀྱི་བདེ་བ་དང་ སེམས་ཀྱི་དགའ་བ་ཡང་ མིང་ཙམ་ཅིག་ཨིན་པའི་ སླབ་ཐངས་ཅིག་ལུ་འགྱུར་ནི་འབད་ཡི། ཨིན་རུང་ ཚར་གཅིག་ནང་ན་ འཛུལ་ཚར་འབད་ རང་གི་སྡོད་ཁྲི་གུ་ལུ་ལྷོད་ ཅ་ལ་ཚུ་ཞིབ་ཚརལྦ་ད་ སེམས་དང་ལུས་གཉིས་ལུ་ བག་ཕེབས་དུམ་གྲ་ཅིག་འཐོབ་ཅི།

བདེ་བ་དང་བག་ཕེབས་དེ་སྦེ་འབྱུང་རུང་ བཞེས་སྒོ་བཟའ་དུས་ལུ་ལྷོདཔ་ད་ ད་རུང་ཡང་ ཕ་མའི་དྲུང་དུ་སྡོདཔ་ད་ གདམ་ཁ་ཆེ་བའི་དབང་གིས་ རེ་ལི་འདི་ནང་ཐོབ་མི་བཞེས་སྒོ་ལུ་བལྟ་འདི་ ཟ་ཁམས་མ་ཐོབ་ལས་ ད་རུང་ཡང་ དཀའ་བ་དང་སྡུག་པའི་ལས་ སྔར་ག་ཨིནམ་མྱོང་དགོཔ་འབྱུང་ཡི། ཨིན་རུང་ གང་ཟག་རང་ར་སོའི་ལས་ཀྱི་ བཀྲེས་སྐོམ་གྱི་སྡུག་བསྔལ་ལས་ མ་འགྲོལ་ནི་འདི་གིས་ སྲོག་འཚོ་ཚུགས་པའི་ཟས་ བཞེས་སྒོ་འདི་ལས་གཞན་མེདཔ་ལས་ ཟ་ཁམས་མེད་རུང་ ཤུགས་ཆུ་ལུ་བརྟེན་འདི བཟའ་དགོསཔ་འབྱུང་ཡི། རང་ལུ་དཀའ་ངལ་འདི་བཟུམ་མྱོངམ་ལས་ རང་དང་ཅོག་འཐདཔ་སྦེ་ བཞེས་སྒོ་ལུ་གདམ་ཁ་ཆེ་མི་ཚུ་ལུ་ རེ་ལི་ནང་འགྲོ་འགྲུལ་འབད་བའི་སྐབས་ རང་དང་གཅིག་ཁར་ སྐྱུར་རྫས་ (pickle) ཡང་ན་ ཁ་ཟས་ལག་ཟས་རེ་ བསྣམ་བྱོན་དགོ་པའི་ དྲན་སྐུལ་ཞུ་ནི་ཨིན་།

ད་རུང་དཀའ་ངལ་འདི་གུ་ གཅིག་ཁར་འགྲོ་འགྲུལ་འབད་མི་ འགྲོ་འགྲུལཔ་ཉག་ཉོག་ཚ་དྲག་ གཞན་དང་མ་འདྲཝ་ ཕྱདཔ་ད་འདི་ དབུགས་འགམ་ཨིན་ན་ ཙིགཔ་ཟལྦ་ཨིན་ན་མ་ཤེསཔ་སྦེ་འགྱོ་ནི་འདུག། ཨིན་རུང་ རེ་ལི་འདི་ནང་ རང་དང་རོགས་ ཅོག་འཐདཔ་ཨིན་པའི་དྲན་གསོ་འབད་འདི་ ཞེ་སྡང་མེ་བཟུམ་འབར་ཏེ་ བྱང་ཁོག་གག་ས་ས་ཀྱི་ དབུགས་གཏུམ་སྟེ་འོང་མི་འདི་ཡང་ རང་གི་སེམས་རང་གི་གསོ་སྟེ་ བཟོད་པ་སྒོམ་སྡོད་དགོཔ་ཡང་འབྱུངམ་ལས་ ཉམས་རོགས་ཚུ་ལུ་ཡང་ ཡང་བསྐྱར་དྲན་གསོ་ཞུལྦ་ཨིན།

མཇུག་ར་ མི་ཚེ་གཉིད་ལམ་བཟུམ་ཅིག་ལུ་བསམ་སྟེ་ རང་ལུ་འདི་བཟུམ་མའི་དཀའ་སྤྱདའབྱུང་རུང་ དཀའ་སྡུག་དང་རྐྱེན་ངན་ཚུ་ གཉིད་ལམ་བཟུམ་ཅིག་དང་ ཉམས་མྱོང་དང་ཚོར་བ་འདི་ཚུ་ བལྟ་བརྒྱ་མཐོང་བརྒྱ་དགོ་པའི་འབངས་མཛོད་ནང་ རིན་ཆེ་བའི་ནོར་བུ་བཟུམ་ དྲན་ཤེས་བསྐྱེད་ནི་ཤེས་ཅི། ལྷག་པར་དུ་ འདི་བཟུམ་མའི་མྱོང་བ་ཚུ་ བརྟག་པ་བརྟན་པ་མེད་པའི་མི་ཚེ་འདི་གི་  མཐོང་སྣང་ཅིག་ཨིནམ་འབད་ ཧ་གོ་ཡི། འདི་ནང་ལས་ཡང་ དེ་བཟུམ་མའི་ཚོར་སྣང་འདི་ རང་རྐྱངམ་ཅིག་གི་མེན་པར་ རེ་ལི་ནང་འགོ་ཐོག་ འགྱོ་མི་ག་ར་གྱི་ཉམས་མྱོང་ཅིག་ཨིནམ་འབད་ཧ་གོ་ཚུགས་ཅི།

ག་ར་ལུ་ ང་དང་ཅིག་ཁར་ རེ་ལི་ནང་འགྲོ་འགྲུལ་འབད་བའི་ ཉམས་མྱོང་བརྗེ་སོར་མཛད་གནང་།

བཀའ་དྲིན་ཆེ།།

Bhutanese Conman in Ajmer, Rajasthan.

The joy of meeting someone from one’s country in a foreign land is immense.  So much so that, without slightest of hesitation and reservation you start blabbering.  How homely and at ease you feel, when you meet your countrymen. It is a wonderful feel until you learn your lesson the hard way. A Bhutanese woman married to an Indian national conned me of Rs. 2000.00, that too after being served them with foods and drinks with utmost hospitality. Never thought someone at their age would dare to commit such crime and soil their name, that too in front of their kid.

Source- Google

This is how I met them, how they outsmarted me and my friend’s, painted our foreheads with guilt of attending them so well.

I met a couple in Jaipur Bus station and had the same sensation; the wonderful and homely feel when you meet someone who speaks the same language as yours.  I was having a cup noddle while waiting for my bus to Ajmer. A couple with a baby girl came and sat facing my chair in the waiting room. Their beautiful baby girl enjoyed watching me eat and play with my phone simultaneously.  It looked like, the baby girl’s audience over me triggered parent’s attention as well and after a bit of whispering to one another’s ear, husband looked towards me and started talking.

Upon conversation with them for a while, the man happened to be an Indian national who worked in eastern Bhutan as a civil engineer for a private construction firm and his wife, Bhutanese national from Samdrup Jongkhar. I was told that, they had been living in Delhi where the husband works as a Civil engineer in a private firm until recently where he is transferred to Rajasthan. They too happened to be heading towards Ajmer; their present residence, in same bus where I had my reservation. Thus we started our journey after exchanging mobile numbers and making a point to meet in Ajmer.

It was a Sunday and I was taking the full advantage of holiday in my bed until phone call woke me. It was them; the couple I met, informing about their visit to my place. We had a great time over special courier brandy, rice, sag datshi and interesting talks followed by loud and lengthy laughs. At one time he claimed his close connection with minister of the previous government whom he tried to call, to which we requested not to. Onto what they ate, we also packed them red Bhutanese chili, Lom (dried turnip-leaf) and dried mushroom thinking they (she) might want to eat them after so many years.

They were about to leave when the husband with an innocent face approached me and asked for Rs. 3000.00. Earlier we were told that he earns almost Rs.100, 000.00 a month and I was wondering, how on earth a man earning such amount is less of Rs. 3000.00? Before I could utter a word, I was told not to tell his wife about it, stating she is suffering from cancer and he doesn't want to bother her. Sometimes it’s hard not to believe when compassion grows naturally in you and tend to mistake crocodile tears for a genuine one. I did not have cash and asked for my friend’s, and together we managed Rs.2000.00 which he promised to return in two days. And now it’s about four/five months without even a trace of them keep aside the money.

Every time one tells something, other either supplements or continues with another story. That’s how two of them make perfect combo in deception. This, I knew only after knowing their true intention later.  Also later we came to know about their real identity as well. Both fled from Bhutan for: wife was convicted for criminal case and husband for excessive conning.

Though part of their story featuring me and my friend’s ends here, we are certain that there are many such stories with guest characters like us and if you are not careful with people you meet along the way, you will be next. You cannot guarantee happiness simply being Bhutanese or from the land of GNH, so be informed of such individuals and stay smart unlike ME & MY FRIENDS!

Thruebab: Not a happy ending!

My Thirsty mobile

Truly it was Thruebab! Seldom does Rajasthan experience heavy down pour and hardly has it coincided with an occasion unlike this time, with Bhutanese Thruebab: Blessed rainy day. And more than being cleansed with sins and getting blessed with health, luck, wealth, fortune, harmony within, it damaged  my only priceless possession ; my four year old mini N97 mobile phone.

It was a lovely day. Weather was so pleasant, so much so that, your skin will do well even without a drop of sun block, if in a play field.  Like usual Bhutanese Losar days, my day started with rice porridge with paneer, and then followed by tea (Nga Ja) with zaw and biscuits. We limited our Thruebab menu to rice, mutton curry, chicken curry, ema datsi, papad, boiled egg, milk dessert with fruits covering and Mcdowell brandy.

Day was bliss; until god (Buddhist God) discharged buckets of water in the name of celebration and I lost my grip over phone, which certainly like a predestined sponge, sipped every drop on its face before switching to off-mode. Even after burrowing it in bag of rice for a night considering its absorbent character, I could not bring it to live and now I feel incomplete.

These days how handicap and disconnected we feel. Being dependent on those modern day gadgets takes your peace of mind away, should you ever lose it. Now, my only prayer is to hear good news from a mobile shop of its quick recovery at minimum cost (lol). Hope, anyone reading this post will take a moment from their busy schedule to join me in my prayer…ahhaha..

Have a wonderful week and take care of your things!

My mis-recorded birthday.

For every individual no matter how rich/poor he/she is?  What his/her ethnic race is? What color his/her skin is? Birth dates were and is the most essential conformity that forms the core identity of individual and so should it remain as his/hers apart from the identity of his/her nationality, gender and ethnic race. So called birth dates once recorded either correctly (must) or mistakenly shall serve as a fundamental facts of individuals life. Be it his/her age, service tenure, career, set eligibility gauge, scholarship opportunity, etc. It serves as bases for all and never should we accept negligence in its recordings.

My birth day as per the verbal information from my mother it falls on 25^th day of the 8^th lunar month of fire Hare year which with reference to Chinese calendar falls on 17^th October  contrary to my present recorded date 2^nd February. My present zodiac sign is Aquarius when it is supposed to be Libra. Now 2^nd February has become my official birth date and every year I receive calls, text messages and Facebook messages from my friends and well-wishers though I hardly celebrate it with cakes and drinks knowing it’s not my real.

How it so happened? And how it got recorded all wrong is still a mystery to me and my mother. Although there could be many possibilities in getting it wrong, only answer I can visualize is; mistake in conversion from Bhutanese calendar date to Western. It might have happened so without proper authenticate health card reference in those days.

Now going with the present birth date I get older by eight months ahead of my actual age and if I happen to be in government job after studies have to resign eight months early, thus depriving me of eight month’s salary (lol) and other opportunities etc. if the post happens to be opportune one and will be relieved of those hardships and stress if the post happens to be burdening one. Both head and tail side of the coin.

Mistakes in birth date are not an exception with others as well. Many of my peers and mates share the same moan of having recorded the wrong birth date. Such mistakes were seldom seen in those lots whose parents happens to be literate or office goer, but that does not mean our illiterate parents got it recorded all wrong. Only difference is that literate lot had it recorded as per Western calendar and our parents in Lunar Bhutanese calendar and theirs suited the best.

But child born these days need not have to worry and be confused later. These days health offices issues child health book which take cares from the day one’s mother conceives and till the delivery. Where every recording are maintained by officials themselves. Thank you for the service and had it been so long time back, world will be less of one such confused human.

A day long Hiccup.

Hiccups are believed to arise when somebody remembers you. When your family or friends think of you, you experience the so called hiccup.  That’s what I heard from others’ about its regard with the myth and superstitious belief.  Thus when it happened to me, I thought I am experiencing it for I am either on my family or friends mind. But here, I am being bothered by bouts of hiccup for so long; it continues for hours normally and a day long occasionally. So, if that’s how hiccups are caused I got to be certain that those people whom I know and with whom I am acquainted are in no way free and leisure enough to waste their valuable time thinking about someone when they have lot and loads to do with their own life, jobs, works, obligations, responsibilities, etc.

Seriously NO!

At one time, I took note of the belief and called my mother [my first suspect …lol] since I could not converse with her over phone for couple of months due to my exam preparations. Even after spending hours with her on phone, this irri-hiccup continued to stick with me. Later I checked on every suspect who I presumed to be missing me and found it to be futile.   Even today as I write this post, and as I pack my luggage and ready for the night long journey towards Delhi, I am hiccupping.

Some advised me to drink water and others told me to wear warm clothes and stay warm and few to take long breaths, but even after taking gallons of hot water, staying the warmest possible way and taking the longest able breath, I am still hiccupping. And I can stubbornly say nothing is as irritating and troublesome than a day long hiccup. It just takes away your peace of mind.

With consistent hiccupping I was worried and visited a clinic. There, surprisingly the so called Doctor (works at government hospital and sits over time at his clinic), whom I thought may have some scientific reasoning’s too was with the same belief. Nonetheless he prescribed me few medicines that subsided hiccup for a while but not for too long. After finding temporary solace in medicine, was bit curious and worried at the same time thus I Googled for an information and following are what science got to say about it:

Hiccups are sudden, involuntary contractions of the diaphragm muscle. As the muscle contracts repeatedly, the opening between the vocal cords snaps shut to check the inflow of air and makes the hiccup sound. Irritation of the nerves that extend from the neck to the chest can cause hiccups. Although associated with a variety of ailments (some can be serious such as pneumonia or when harmful substances build up in the blood for example from kidney failure), hiccups are not serious and have no clear reason for occurring. Rarely, their presence causes health problems such as speech changes or interference with eating and sleeping. Many conditions are associated with hiccups, but none has been shown to be the cause of hiccups.

The very line which reads “associated with a variety of ailments (some can be serious such as pneumonia or when harmful substances build up in the blood for example from kidney failure)” made me think hard but not  to the extent of craziness. I can ascertain myself I am free from all ailments especially building of harmful substances up in the blood, for only a month ago I donated blood and they did carry out my blood test. At present I can only pray nothing serious will happen and looking forward to thorough check up and fun filled vacation!

Khuru : Ajmeri time pass

Every evening as the day farewells sun and dusk welcomes the moon (preferably night), travellers in the nine bogie Ajmer-Pushkar train sights four fellas throwing pair of dart-like wooden piece onto a wooden batten sized 30 cm X 10cm X 6 cm kept at 30 meter away from each other.

Highest Karey record holder in action!!

It so happened that we planned to play the Khuru game on blessed rainy day (2012) and got everything arranged. Though I and my friend did plan long time back to get pair of Khuru and accouterments during our return journey from home, every time our bag packs were air tight filled with nibbles and dried vegetables, that carrying of those items seemed bothersome.  This year as well we cared less but as few of them brought, we had to manage, for without a countable heads to play together, game isn’t going to be an remarkable and worth playing one to mark an occasion.

To get a pair of khuru isn’t a problem provided you have a sample and cash. Carpenters here, they just need a sample and that’s all, your khuru will be ready after a day. Here a pair of khuru without flight-facilitating-plastic wing (dro) costs Rs. 60 and pair of Baa (target) cost Rs. 350.

Bull's eye !!!

After that heart-throbbing blessed rainy day match, we played (mostly four of us) every evening and it turned out to be like a usual evening routine. At first it started with Ka-re-Da-ya match format, where one who hits (karey) the target gets Rs. 20 from each player and one who manage to count a Da-ya earns Rs. 10. Though it delights to be at the receiving end, it equally sucks to be at the other. Owing to one’s bank balance and Rs. 15000 per month cash withdrawal limit by Druk PNB (more precisely RMA), this format didn’t last long.

We started with an every-evening record setting format. In this format, we count only Ka-reys and there is no count for Da-ya. The players with the highest ka-rey have to play first, followed then by others with lesser ka-reys. This format is not money oriented and indeed a format to enhance one’s hitting skill.  

As we played every evening with the same format, the highest ka-rey till now on record is 18. An hilarious fact to be revealed; we hit the same target 18 times in a span of two- three hours, where on some other occasions even after playing for the whole day, your counts climbs only to 5 at the max.

Every evening as we play, we draw our fellow country mates and Ajmerii folks as a spectator. On one occasion I overheard those Ajmmerii folk’s conversations. He seemed to be so impressed with our hitting abilities that he complimented us by saying “you all don’t need a gun to fight, you can hit equally with this one”.

Thieves for nothing.

It’s been one year. We travelled twice back to home (Bhutan), leaving all things locked as usual. Not once did thief/thieves break into our rented apartments. None of the Bhutanese studying in Ajmer, Rajasthan, India was of an opinion that Ajmeri folks would study about our absence and break into our apartments as cleverly as they did.

heck saw  mark:P

They (thief/thieves) heck sawed our main door latch, yet none of our neighbors noticed.  All luggage bags lock carefully levered, screwed and casually unzipped. None of the suitcase and luggage bags were randomly torn as supposed to be, when stolen. Onto it, they even didn’t mix our things with each other’s as they searched for something worthy enough to take. Each belonging were hilled near to one’s own case (thank you, you all made it easy for us to segregate and collect our own items :p).

Surprisingly nothing was taken. But then what did they break in for. It’s a question that still lingers within me and my roommate’s helpless mind. Also what will they take, when nothing valuable like laptops, gadgets and money were left behind? After all none amongst us is so much so fool to keep our valuable things behind in an empty temporary apartment in foreign place as they supposed us to be.

incomplete search??

Never thought present generation of thieves will be so selective. They take so much risk and still don't take a thing, if it's not what they have intended for. HATS OFF, your choice and ours didn't match..lol.

It’s indeed a lesson to our fellow friends who stay in a rented apartments, to not to leave valuable things back. These days we cannot rely on locks, it can easily be hammered or heck sawed like ours. This time we proved, we are Bhutanese and we are clever in our own way. They broke in ours, but they failed.  So make sure, you are not NEXT, even if you are, make sure you are not victimized.

The coming of Ura Yakchoeth

Ura Yakchoeth, the annual festival of  Ura, coincides with 12th day of the 3rd Lunar month. And for this year as per western calender it falls on 3rdd May  and ends on 6th May. Ura village is located on the right side of Bumthang-Trashigang highway, at about 50km from proper Bumthang towards Trashigang, a short description about its location if anyone feels like attending the festival apart from those Urapas. The festival is known for the Singchang (local brewed beverage), indeed a good news for those  chaps who prefer to drink upto the brim for free. (here keep aside rupee crunch and pinch..you wont even feel the ngultrum pinch..lol)

Also if you have a will to meet with the master of humor, definitely not  Phurba Thinley, but The Old Man of Gaden. You will find him there as a MC.

Back at village, i presume all to be busy with festival preparation in one or the other way. Like:

Sonam Wangchuk: the village chief mask dancer along with his dance troupe, might be  busy practicing mask dances like Drametse Ngacham, Ging Tsholing, Sha zam, Sha Wa Sha Khee and Rak sha mangcham to name few. At this time of the year, if you happen to visit Ura valley and appropriately Ura Lhakhang ( temple) for pilgrimage or for tour, you will be welcomed with the sounds of drums, cymbals and periodic long howling like sound  followed by short shout from the chief dancer himself, signalling his troupes with change in pace and step of the dance. Also, don't be surprised!, if the temple Dhoshel (courtyard) happen to be silent, for they might be either painting their masks or else silently practicing dance steps without cymbals and drums, but with their verbal counts like barrrr drum, che sa che, ngye sa ngye etc.

Jamyang Nidup:  the village Ngyerpo (mess incharge), With a mouth full of doma (bettle nut), comfortably sat on a sheep skin mat, with his old knees covered by scarf like  clothe piece called Yathra (textile woven from sheeps wool with various pattern of flowers) might be measuring butter, rice and other cereal and necessary items that he asked his fellow villagers to contribute for the 5 day festival, making entry of every quantity he measured alongside the name of the person from each household.

Phuntsho Peldon: the village lead dancer cum singer, opens her plastic covered song book in the fluorescent light along with her village women dance troupe.  They memorize the lyrics as they tune their throats.  Most of the time, they gather in evenings, after their days work. She sometimes takes time to visit her predecessor, Ugyen Lhadron, for refinement of the tune as other ladies practice their dance steps. The songs and dances are performed without background music unlike those of RAPA's, yet you will be no short of melody, for you will be entertained with the finest vocals in the valley. Few native songs from this valley were being sang and recorded by RAPA and that only to be tuned to their comfort. So if you want to feel the originality, i suggest its the best time of the year to visit and with foreseen favorable weather, it will be a pleasant trip. 

Every year, as this date near,  those at village prepare themselves for the occasion of the year with every savings they made year before. Uraps far off, plans their biannual trip, the other one for annual ritual (lochoe). And those uraps like myself for one, wandering in foreign land, keeps wishing for another Yakchoeth. That very moment where you can drink plenty of singchang, sing and dance to your native folks tune and share those deliciously prepared foods by your mother and sister.
                                     HAPPY YAKCHOETH TO URAPAS!!!!!!

Baby girl to my friend

As much as my friend  is excited in sharing his news with me, i am equally excited in writing this post.  It is the excitement and joy of fathering a baby girl. Like any other parents, who dream, wish and plan to have a girl, if their first one is a son and otherwise. So there is nothing different in my friend's dream and what ever we may call it. From ten years of marriage, he have two sons; elder one in class V and younger (no more, since he got a baby sister now) one in class I. Both he and his wife longed for a baby girl and now they are blessed with little angel.  

My friends 2 weeks old daughter

I never felt the presence of such excitement in my friend. No. Not even when he is half boozed. Half? For when he is fully boozed, he gets mad not excited, lol. 

As i rejoice the happiness of my friend, i pray for little angels health, dreams, success and may you grow into a beautiful lady enriched with smartness, intelligence, love and may you continue to bring joy and happiness to your family.  

As i congratulate you and your family, i'm very much looking forward to breakfast, lunch and dinner treat.haha

Chat message reproduced below.

• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Tashi Tobgay

  • I have one gud news to share u, can i???
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Pema Wangyel

  • sure
• 
  
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Tashi Tobgay

  • i became  daddy of a baby girl now, after having two Dargos...hahaha..
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Pema Wangyel

  • wai really??
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Tashi Tobgay

  • yup...
  • its two weeks now..
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Pema Wangyel

  • congratulation..finally u got it mosh sir jee
  • wow...
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Tashi Tobgay

  • hahaha....thanks wai.....so much eager to see her .........
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Pema Wangyel

  expecting breakfast, lunch and dinner treat frm u..hahhhaa

  
  
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Tashi Tobgay

  • hahaha....sure wai....so lets meet up tubga...
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Pema Wangyel

  • may she bring lots of happiness and joy to ur small family
  • yaya
• 
  

  4 hours ago

  Tashi Tobgay

  • thanks.....i too hope so.....

My early days

source: google

Being born and having lived in village, i am acquainted with Bhutanese traditional games like Khuru (dart), Doegor , Dha (archery), Sok som, Je dom and all in my early childhood days where some of my fortunate friends might have never heard of it, keep aside having played, not for lack of interest from their side but being blessed with advance and modern toys.

We played those games in our early days not because we love playing but in a way to free our parents to attend the usual farmers routine, as only a tiring and dedicated hard labor seem rewarding to their family at the end of the day. So as to engage us in some games after breakfast before starting their works, my father would make me bow and arrows; those were my first cutest toy to play with, dress the stone with hammer to have it flat and round so as to fit well in my palm, shape the branch of tree, sawing and planing with knife to give a perfect shape of Khuru that i like, and with a pair of hens feather onto each one of it, he definitely  wins my broad smile in appreciation to his skill.

And sometimes as he takes oxen for grazing in jungle, taking days off after tiring days,  i use to accompany him. There i use to play je dom (a pair of  either Y or I shaped tree branch with sharp and pointed tip) and some times sok som (a pair of small bamboo shoots with sharp and pointed tip) as he enjoys the puff of bere (tobacco leaf) that he learned during militia days ( i suppose).

Remembering those cheerful days with my father, the fun i had playing with him with so called toy-version of his, i could not stop myself from making those for my nephew last winter. At first i was of a opinion that he may not like it, as he has been playing with those toy-bricks, balakute and all being an fortunate nephew to those earning uncle's and aunt , but to my dismay he was having fun with my version-of-toy. That very moment, had i been equipped with all those gadgets and accessories science has blessed the world with, i would have captured at that instant. That satisfaction i derived after seeing him play with fun made me think how my father might have felt seeing me play with his so called toys. Though i'm old enough to console myself with past memories, i miss those toys as much as i miss my Lt. father. Deep inside me, i miss you Apa, and i always suppose you are with me, no matter where i am.

Drive in snow

Source: google

The sky was clear with usual wintry breeze around and i was on my way to drop my sister to a nearby town. Though dragon's above forgot to roar (later realized that lightning and thundering are heard and seen only during rainy season), the birds around feared to sing and even stopped flying around except a host of sparrows.

After about two hours tedious drive through valley and sharp turns from our home town we reached at uncles place (farm house named Galengbe garden located at about fifteen minutes drive from Chamkhar town along Thimphu-Trashigang highway). The moment we entered the living room, i flung towards the Bhukharee (metal oven fuelled with firewood) like a boy who finally meets his girl after ages. Aunt (Nene in Bumthap) served us with hot milk tea and i was lost in the warmth of burning Bhukharee watching  the live musical show  "the talent hunt by mila communications". I was totally lost in the warmth of the burning  Bhukharee and the sweet voice of those youngsters that i even forgot to see the time, but by then it was already dusk.

I turned down the idea of staying the night at uncle's place, as the next day is Nyelo (Bhutanese winter solstice) for which i have planned a program with my friends few days before, so i did reach sister at her place and hurriedly turned the car and started my journey back home.

source:google

On my way back home i could see drops on the car's window shield, which initially was easy to wipe with shield wiper. Now the drops grew thicker and fell with increased frequency making the wiper alone difficult for the task for which i have to switch the heater on. The idea of working the dual together increased my visibility but only to be tricked and outdone by heavy and continuous fall later.

Within an hour of fall, it has already blanketed the earth and so has injected enough worries in mom and sister back at home. Now along with increased magnitude and frequency of fall that i could see on my front window shield, my phone started ringing after every turn and twist i'm done with. I was touched by their solicitude and for some time was lost in thoughts only to be brought to sense with minor skid. The road ahead looks like white carpet with sparkling tints induced by the lights of car.

With fear ascertained by minor skid, neither did i take my hands off the steering wheel nor did i increase the gear from second. I did breath a sigh of relieve only after i parked the car and entered the main door of my home. Although i'm a licensed driver who did cross the east west pass for several times, never did i drive in snow and this very drive almost took my breath away. Lucky to have a mom who cares a lot and who always make sure that her kids are safe.

Back at home with a will to subside my coldness, flung towards the Bhukharee with a cup filled with hot steaming Suja (butter tea) and finally took out my phone and updated  my facebook status "Ura (in Bumthang valley) welcomes new year 2012 with snow fall".