Oil and Canvas for Royal Wedding

There are million things happening at a time in Bhutan for the celebration of Royal Wedding and I am involved in half a million of them- at least I like to be. I am chasing deadline after deadline, personal to official, and moving out of my comfort zone in making the occasion something I can cherish forever as my personal achievement.
I am being approached by two groups of students to help them record their song, direct their MTV, Edit the Video and send it to BMF for the Book of Congratulations. They won't believe when I say I can't and therefore I am into it. I promised them that even if their MTV doesn't make it for the book it will go to Youtube. Then there are poets who want me to edit their poems, type it and send. On the other hand I am collecting pictures from students for the Bhutan Observer collage creation.
I am advising our school carpenter on the engineering of a giant structure he is building for the royal wedding dance, helping Dzongkhag in writing felicitation message to be published in Newspapers, assisting school administration in coming up with ideas to celebrate in our own school... I have copies of all the letters addressed to school for the celebration and I am celebrating it already.

Far in the corner of storeroom, my colleague Hemlal Pokhrel is doing his magic on Canvas. He is the artistic branch of our school and for the last few days he has set up his studio in the desolate room. He is doing a larger then life portrait of the royal couple to be used as the central piece during the celebration in Punakha. I visit him often in his studio to appreciate his work and push him ahead.

Hemlal going larger than life

I haven't yet thought of what I and my family would do to celebrate the auspicious wedding...

Good bye Gaddafi

The infamous Libyan leader Muammer Gaddafi may so much look like Kadhar Khan of Bollywood but the damn man has the rotten guts of Hitler. I don't know how he loved his people for the last 42 years, but since February this year I have seen how he hates them. This one year has shown how he ruled his country for the last 42 years. And even as he runs for his life he triggers war among his people and promote terrorism.
I am not a sadist but these days I am so much excited to see the old man die. As the opposition force takes control of Tripoli I wish him Hitler's death, I wish him Saddam Husain's death, I wish him Bin Laden's Death... I wish freedom for the people of Libya.
It's just matter of days until we see the dramatic end of the  four decades of dictatorship, so I want to bid farewell to Col. Gaddafi, good bye old man, you are unwanted in this world!

Jigme's Surprise Morning Speech

On the morning of 18 August it was Jigme's turn to give speech in the assembly and coincidentally I was the teacher on duty. I saw him excited about it for a few days. He told me that he was supposed to speak on a great personality, therefore he wanted to talk about Albert Einstein. I prepared a small note on Einstein to supplement his speech as any duty teacher would do. And as he spoke it took me by surprise:

Jigme loves football: Jersey No.17

"The great personality I am going to speak about today is someone who brings changes in everyone’s life, especially to my life. He is charming. He is tall and he is funny. He has not won any Oscars nor has he built any great structure but what he has done to my life far surpasses the legend of Albert Einstein or arts of Picasso. He didn’t invent the telephone, he wasn’t the man who landed on the moon, and he didn’t even act in any movie yet... He has simply touched hearts and made differences in lives. For me he has brought a light in my life and has given me the reason to be happy. His words are pure and simple and he is the best person I or you will ever encounter in life. He will walk into your life and walk you out of your sorrows forever.
He is my Google for he has answers to my entire questions; He is my Facebook for he connects me to the world. No one can fully understand the effect of this man than I who lives in his reliance.  He is the man I look up to as my role model, my icon and my idol. And he is none other than my dad, our teacher and your friend Mr. Passang Tshering." 

As he finished it was my turn to supplement his speech, and my note on Einstein won't work. I grabbed the mic and didn't really know how to begin for a long time. I could feel an emotional knot tightening somewhere inside my chest. With my voice lilting I began finally:

The great personality my son is speaking about is me. He told me he was going to speak about Albert Einstein and I am surprised that he chose me over Einstein. Many of you already know, and for those who don't know, Jigme is my step son (avoid the "step" when you say). But two of us share many things in common and thus we have build a relationship which stands the test of time.
There are many of us who perceive Divorce as something very negative but Jigme accepted it. Many blame their parents for breaking the family and try to take ruthless revenge but Jigme didn't do that. Ever since our time, children from broken families use their family problem as license to be naughty but one thing you must understand is that it wasn't easy for your parents to go separate ways either, but when things don't work well between the two there is hardly any option left. It isn't about a day or two, marriages are for life time and no one would want to waste this one life in an unhappy relationship. Jigme accepted the truth and accepted me into his life and it should be a message to everyone who share similar fate to respect your parents' decision and give them their rights to happiness. And because of our very special relation we make up a very happy family and I wish happiness to all of you.
And Jigme, thank you for speaking about me, I know how you feel about me even if you hadn't spoken.

I had so many thing I wanted to share about me and Jigme but I had to keep note of the time as well.

P:S: Jigme and I have always thought of each other as our own and I don't appreciate when people address me as his step father or him as my step son.  

Butterfly-4.0

The only thing I know about butterfly is that it comes from Caterpillar- I don't know their names, I don't know their family, I can't even say if it's a butterfly or a moth but I still love photographing them. I wish to learn about them.

The story of Monarch Butterfly on National Geographic amazed and inspired me to take a closer look at this beautiful insect.

This is my fourth post on Butterfly and interestingly my Butterfly-II fetched me huge number of hits from search engines. But I know it must have disappointed the readers since I didn't have anything worth in there. So each time I put up a new butterfly post I am thinking harder and defining what I want out of this modest interest in photographing Butterfly.

Here are links to my older Butterfly posts:

• Butterfly (6 June, 2010)
• Butterfly II (25 September, 2010)
• Butterfly III (9 October, 2010)

The Joker Becomes Druk Superstar 2011

Don't get me wrong by the title of the post, I mean literally the joker of the show won the title. My choice didn't win but Lakey was my second choice among the top five. Something striking about Lakey was the promise he repeatedly made that he won't just disappear after winning, he would continue to entertain people like he has been doing so far. That message goes out to the winners of earlier shows, who didn't consider it important to be accountable to the society after they needed votes no more.
Personally I love listening to Minzung, Karma Phuntsho and Dechen Zam when they sing and it is Lakey who captivates me once his singing is over- his wit and humor. Since it was a singing competition the result didn't really justify the cause of the show, but since it's all based on money what could the organizer do?

Congratulations to Lakey, Druk Superstar 2011.
Congratulations to Kencho Wangdi, for making the show!

P:S: Something needs to be done with BBS TV Signal in Wangdue, we had to watch the whole show like it was played from an old scratched CD. I hope the problem is not from Thimphu.

I Nearly Failed as a Father

It takes huge guts to confess that I nearly failed my duty as a father. I don't blame my mother for my long nose, I rather thank her for keeping it intact on my face throughout my restless childhood. But damn I nearly lost my daughter beautiful nose two days ago. I woke up from my nap to my daughter's cry, then almost went back to sleep when I heard her cry again.
When I checked she wasn't in the kitchen with her mother. I ran out on to the balcony to meet my little girl running to me with her face covered in blood. My heart broke right away. I hated myself for having taken a nap, I blamed my wife for not having noticed her slipped away. I wasn't sure what happened to her and what to do.
Upon investigation we found that our baby fell of face-down from the veranda, thank go we live on the ground floor, just about a foot from the ground. I had left some carpentry work unfinished, among which there were several planks with nails on. Her face was scratched by one nail, from middle of her brows till right nostril. Then she had toppled down and hit her head on the cement ground. Despite the fall she has managed to climb back and came to us crying. During this whole process of falling, bleeding, crying, and climbing back, her father was sleeping and that gave me the greatest pain. It was the mercy of god that the nail didn't go into her eyes or her soft skull.
It was such a relieve when we discovered that the cut on her face was not deep and that it wouldn't leave any scar. Swelling on her temple soon subsided and she started playing with me again, and I swear I will never leave her alone. I want to urge all my friends who are parents to be extra careful with your babies because I have had friends in school and college whom god had created beautiful but their parents failed their duties when they were babies and thus they had to live with their parents' mistakes forever. God saved me this time!

Without Minzung Lham on Druk Superstar...

Forget about who will win Druk Superstar, at least it stopped mattering to me now. Just ask yourself when you are in an honest mood- Whose song do you have as your ringtone and caller tune? Whose melody stops your heartbeat? Whose songs do you hum subconsciously? If your answer is not Minzung Lham you are probably not being honest.

Minzung Lham, Kencho Wangdi and Dechen Zam. Picture Source: Bhutan Observer

Why is she eliminated from the competition? Is it because she doesn't a word on stage? May be not, her songs are thousand words stronger. Is it because we have fail her our votes? No, we voted but that wasn't enough. The hearts that beat from her are younger generations with lesser money to spare. The voting system is not about how many people love the singer, but about how much money! Honestly I don't have a better way of voting  to suggest since the show has to sustain. It is sustainability verses credibility- and nothing could be done about it across the world- from American Idol to Indian Idol.
But for a small country like ours nobody is going to make living out of the show, not even the winner but a voice that shall keep soothing you every moment of the day shall be Minzung Lham's and without her on the show there is no excitement. I don't know whether she lost the show or the show lost her.
The next singer to watch is Dechen Zam, but she is gone too. Now I am watching Karma Phuntsho and Ulap Lekey.
Thanks to Kencho Wangdi for entertaining us all on weekends.

Why should women have all the breast?

This week the focus is all on the breast and therefore men are out of focus. All these months I have had good nights because both the workable breasts are on my wife's chest. I feel sorry for all the babies whose mothers are working but my daughter enjoyed all the luck. Though a housewife, my wife had her own share of tiring days and sleepless nights, and I hope all her sacrifices will reflect in our little girl. I shall always remain so thankful to my wife for giving up almost everything for our baby.
My baby became a year and eight months on 29th July, and she is still enjoying full-time breastfeeding. But there are many babies born around here who had to be trained to survive without breast milk before their third month in the world because their mothers wouldn't have time to feed them once the maternity leave finishes.
There are lots of awareness campaigns on "6 months compulsory breastfeeding" and working women are given  only four months leave. The irony began right at the gates of heaven- why should God plant both breast on the mother?
When I see the lives of my lady colleagues, who have to sooth their babies on one end and please their boss on other end, I can't help wondering how different the world and the system be if one of the two breasts were on father's chest. I just wish if men could put a breast on their chest or just imagine it at least when they decide how long should the Maternity Leave for Mothers be!

School Boy who pays his own fees

Last week we called all our students' parents to mid-term result day. And in the presence of the parents we announced how we mistakenly collected Nu.100 extra from junior classes as school fees and that we were going to give that back. In my class VII C, I have 24 students whose parents came in one after another to sign on mark sheet and to collect the money.
Suddenly there was one father who didn't take the money, and asked me to give it to the boy himself! I insisted him on taking the money, reasoning that the money must go to where it came from, or it may disappear between school and home. The father proudly said that the money belonged to the boy, he paid his own school fee and even helped parents in household shopping from his winter earnings.
I looked at lean Tej Prasad for a long time and admired the man in him. I made the class applaud for him and asked them to get inspired from him. Age should not be an excuse. For the first time I loved the boy who pays his own fees more than the Monk who sold his Ferrari!

So much I saw in Singapore

Another group of excited teachers took off from Paro today. For the past one week they were sleepless just as I was a year and a half ago and they will be sleepless for the next eight nights they are going to spent there. My excitement died two days after I reached there. The culture shock drove me crazy, then the training schedule dragged me from morning till the night and as if we were robots our project manager will eat our nights by her useless meetings. I traveled as far as Singapore only to see some tall buildings around my hotel. I was a zombie by the time I landed in Paro.
We Bhutanese are happy because of the way we are, and I request the world to acknowledge Bhutanese as we are a not force your robotic values into us- we don't do that, learn from us and you will be happy too.
I wish my excited friends enough time to see the wonderful city and time to have enough sleep, so that when they land in Paro there is something good to remember, something to pride upon. For us, that trip still haunts like a nightmare.

My footprints in Singapore:
In Straits Times (News paper)
In Singapore (Magazine)
By Ms Euleen Goh, Chairman of SIF (Speech)

Tour de Bhutan

268km from Bumthang to Thimphu is unimaginable even when you are in a car but Tour of Dragon is going to test your tolerance by putting you on a mountain bike across the distance, which is longer than any stage in Tour de France. In last year's event,  the first cross country race in Bhutan, 16 out of 30 racers made it to Thimphu- How was it possible? It made me realize how passion can make all the difference.
Mountain biking has become Bhutan's latest passion and in just over a year you can expect explosion in the number of participants and also the number of racers completing the race. September 17 is the day this year.
Following last year's big success, this year Tour of Dragon is going international.
And as it goes international, I think it's already eyeing big dollars and thereby ignoring the passionate home racers who won't be able to come up with Nu.25000 as race entrance fee. As far as I can see, no wife will let her husband cycle 268 km paying Nu.25000 for just Nu.100,000 prize. Prize is not worth the price racers will have to pay.
By keeping people's passion hostage I clearly don't see spirit in the sports. If the fee is not revised I can foresee only few elite Bhutanese bikers this season, thereby leaving hundreds of ordinary Bhutanese upset.

Google+ and Facebook

If Facebook were a country, it would be the third most populated country with over 750 million active citizens, beating even the United States. It gives me pain to realize the fact that a man younger than me would be ruling that country, yes I am hinting at Mark Zuckerberg. One crazy idea made all the difference!

The King!

But I am not alone in the list of people who envy Zuckerberg. Some countries blocked Facebook, many companies followed, and so many offices tried. But it surprised me when I found even Google was jealous. But I never thought Google will add a “+” and join the war against Facebook. Google+, is nothing new- another surprise, but has acquired over 18 million users even before it opened to public. That is over 30 times the population of Bhutan.

If + could make a difference...

With Facebook blocked in so many places Google+ is going to have party. When I joined Google+ last Sunday I was very lonely, so I told Pema Gyamtsho, who invited me there, that Google+ is a brand new bar with different brands of wine and whisky, but all our friends are still drinking in the old bar called Facebook. It felt very lonely among 18 million people after having spent years with 750 million people. 

Compassionate Bhutan must accept Abortion now

 June 11, a young lady died in Phuntsholing Hospital after an unsuccessful abortion in Jaigaon. Until the doctors saw bleeding from the victim’s genitals, her friend had lied it was an epileptic attack. Telling the truth could lead to legal actions, but she left the world, free of pains.

Record shows that every year over 200 women suffer similar fate, which could be just the tip of an iceberg. There may be hundreds others who must be crying in the corners with pain, or worse must have died silent deaths.

Our compassionate Buddhist kingdom views abortion as a very sinful act, equivalent to killing a person. But with due respect, I seek to know where is compassion in letting a young woman die along with her baby? Where is compassion in letting an unwanted child see the light of the world, sentencing him to a home where he wasn’t wanted? Where is compassion in letting a young woman give birth to a child, whose father has given up on them?

I find more compassion in abortion; killing a cell for the sake of a woman’s life, and liberating both the mother and the child from depth of mistake. Abortion is not an ice cream that everybody would enjoy if made free, it is but the only option left when everything seems wrong. No woman will go for abortion for pleasure.

If there was a way out, the 23 year old woman wouldn’t have travelled over 400 km straight against her country’s law and pay Nu.9000 to let someone dig into her and take her guts out. In such times no amount of law can stop that. But just because it’s illegal at home, the desperate woman has gone out to Jaigaon, place where nothing seems right- who knows if the man who operated on her was a doctor or a vegetable vendor.

Abortion is not permitted in Bhutan because we are Buddhist, isn’t it more Buddhist to forgive a woman for her mistake and give her a new life instead of letting her die along with child, which we were trying to protect? How many women must die before we rethink our role as a Buddhist?

Dear Students, summer gift to your parents,

I have been thinking of the divine relationship between parents and children for quite sometime, even before I became a father. And it occurred to me that children are innocently selfish. Every child expects the whole world to revolve around him, and parents make sure that it does. Parents place their hearts in every selfish achievement of their children.

I am mentioning this to you at this time of the year to remind you that it about time to give your parents a gift. Not that sort of a gift where you take money from your parents to buy them one, but something that you have achieved on your own- your exam result.

I don’t know if you would rejoice the pride of your father who comes home with the news of him being appreciated by his boss, or joy of your mother who met her childhood friend after fifteen years (because kids only find joy in things that matter to them), but I can assure you that both your parents will be the happiest if you walk home with your mark sheet filled with very good marks. They will pass your mark sheet to each other for countless times as if it’s a million Ngultrum check. They will talk about your result to anybody who visits your home, and then they will tour their friends’ homes to talk more about it.

If you realize it there is nothing in there to talk so much about (you spent last six months in school just for that)- your marks no matter how high won’t help them pay their house rent, not even the water bill. Your marks help no one other than you yet it brings happiness to your parents, which only means how easy it is to please your parents. Just reflect on how much your parents put in to please you each day ever since you were born, and ask yourselves if you were ever perfectly happy. The answer will most probably be No, and this indicates how hard it is to please you, despite all their sweat and blood. And there you are, just having to bring in a good mark sheet and your parents are flattered.

Knowing this is as simple as this; will you still deprive your parents of a gift this summer?


CC: Jigme, with love!

Catching up with the Students

With due respect, I was insulting* over fifty senior teacher for the last ten day. The Best thing about being teacher is that it doesn't really matter who saw the light first, they listened to me passionately. I began by tell them what computer is, then we sat together in finding ways to use it in doing our regular works. Then we went on to find out how we us Internet- yes I took them on a joy ride to Facebook.  I couldn't stop myself from telling them how I consider Google as the greatest Rinpochee- I didn't leave them until they changed their faith. They are now more Googlist then Buddhist!
Then I finally reminded them why we are learning what we are learning; we are not trying to learn something great to help us help our students but to Catch up with out students.

One of the cartoons I showed!

*Please, do not consider the literal meaning of the word 'insulting', I mean it in good humor. 

My First Kiss with Death

Three mornings I woke up thanking god that I am alive. And three nights I spent sleeplessly along with my wife, feverishly fighting the echo of the boulders rumbling down on to my car with dark empty cliff below it. It was hands of god that pulled me across, or I would have dragged along my friends down the cliff never to be found in one piece.

It was the night of 27th June, my team on election duty didn't want to spent another night in Gogona, so we had to pack out bags after the poll was over. It was raining heavy and we were carefully heading home. After meeting other teams at Nobding I was relaxed and moved at my own safe pace. But there is no absolute formula to drive safe when it rains. 

When I entered the huge turn below Nobding, where road widening works are going on during the day, I saw a boulder falling about a foot away followed by rumbling sound of bigger boulder. In fraction of a second I heard several thuds on my car. I don't know what an experienced driver would do- I didn't have time to think anyway. I had a young lady colleague behind me and a young police chumma in passenger seat- their lives were in my hand. 

I could hear the bang, bang of rock and scream of my friend from behind, just then a bounder as big as my head teared through my windshield and landed near my right foot (only god can explain how it didn't hit me at all). Now, I could see nothing in front with the windshield already blurred by cracks. All the while I haven't stopped, I sped across with all my focus on the road, and after I couldn't see anymore from the windshield I opened my window and project my head out to see the road, until we reached a safe place. If I had panicked a little bit, you would have seen me on BBS Headlines. 

The boulder came in through the windshield 

It was dark and raining, we were still within the huge curve, which means we weren't fully safe. So I rushed to remove the broken glass using the sharp boulder which was sitting at my feet- damn, it wasn't that easy. The broken glass had turned elastic. I asked the police's SLR and used the butt of the Rifle to make a hole for me to see through. 

Thank god, other boulders hit the body!

While I drove, my friend contacted our presiding officer who was way ahead of us, only to find his phone was dead. Then we called our Returning Officer to find a lady answering us, who was not in the mood to take anything seriously. Knowing there was no help we could call for we continued on our own for next 40 km home. 

I was freezing in my wet gho with rain hitting my face like a knife, and occasionally my vision blurred. I tried to keep my eyes open but the sharp pain in there won't let me, the two of them can't drive. Only after passing Rajona, the rain stopped and we had a calm three km journey until we reached RO's office.

At midnight I was taken to hospital to clean glass powder from my face and neck, and only then I fearfully realized that I nearly risked my eyesight by driving after the accident. It wasn't rain that pricked my eyes all the while but flying glass pieces. That night they removed three glass pieces from my eyes and asked me to go for further check up, because they didn't have the tech to remove smaller pieces- I am yet to go!

For now I need enough time to thank god. That's my first kiss with death and I must say it taste awful.

Email Robbery

This afternoon I received the following email from Ms. Binita Lhaden. I don't know her but faintly remember sending a complain letter to her once regarding some trade issue. I know Ms. Binita herself will be surprised to know about this because it's not her who sent the message. Her yahoo mail account is probably hacked. The hackers will send the same mail to all the people whose email addresses are saved in her account. That's why I received the mail.

Why are they doing this?
Hackers are expecting some friends of Ms. Binita to respond to her mail and send the asked money. Just respond and see how these people can fool you so convincingly.

The email!

How to prevent this?
This can happen to your account also. You should be careful when typing your password on public computers. Always log out from your account while leaving. Change your password from time to time. Make your password strong-text mixed with numbers.

*If any of you know Ms. Binita, please inform her (not by email though)that her yahoo account has become a beggar online and she should do something about it immediately.

Geography of My Kitchen Garden

When I wrote Lost Path last June our door step was one foot under the sand. I personally witnessed how the flash floods from the farm road covered our campus with sand thrice, and therefore I know that the place I am calling my kitchen garden is sandy.

My First bean.

If you have followed my blog regularly you would know that I had to build fences around my soul before I could fence my garden. And as if that wasn't enough, my sandy soil brought in lots of skeptical advisers kindly assuring me that nothing would grow in my garden. If they are right, then why am I wasting time? Well, geography says sand is not fertile but geography also say that the flood plain in Bangladesh is very fertile. The sand in my garden was brought there by flood and it ought to be fertile as well.

Chili and Egg Plant

Kingdom of tomatoes- I didn't plant on the side of the box!

 Nobody says anything these days, it has only been over a month and my green garden is answer to all their doubts. Spring onion was the first to answer followed by tomato. Garlic leaves and beans are swaying in the wind. Egg plants are growing huge leaves overshadowing my spinach (spinach reminds me of Popeye the sailor man). Coriander leaves, carrot and broccoli are just germinating while maize and ola choto are touching the fence. Chili trees look promising- I have the Indian chili plants. My most favorite plants in my garden are the two Coffee plants and two Dalle plants. Looking at the list, it may seem like I have acres of land but in fact I only have about ten square feet- including the soil in wooden box.

Spring Onion among Egg Plant, and Coriander in the box.

These many plants growing out of my sandy garden assure me that I have read the geography of Bangladesh carefully.

First harvest!

An afterthought:
* Two coffee plants may give me two cups of coffee, or may be more or may be the wind will never let them grow their fleshy leaves. but twenty years from now, when you drink a Bhutanese coffee brand called "PaSsu" please remember to share with your kids how uncle PaSsu began with just two plants of Coffee ha ha ha.

My two Coffee plants- half ragged by wind!

Finding Happiness in Kitchen Garden

The long excited wait for the end of the month ends in an hour of bliss, this is the story of every ordinary Bhutanese working on salary. Our salary, which lands in our hand in slow motion disappears like a ghost. That one hour of ownership you have over your salary, before it goes on to fill up the holes you have created throughout the month, is all the joy you could have by right.
How do you extend your ownership over your salary? You are not a delivery boy who collect the salary from your office and go from shops to fuel pump to BPC to Telecom to your landlord to deliver their share as if it were their salary you collected. You money has the right to say in your purse for a night at least.
Since you can't produce petrol you have to buy it. If you don't own a house you have to rent one. Telephone and power bills are unavoidable. You have to pay for clothes since you can't weave on your own. But what about a tomato? or an onion? a bunch of Coriander leaves? Can't we grow them? or do you want to put so much pressure on your salary?
You will call me miser but I call myself awake. I started a kitchen garden- a small one. It gives me a reason to wake up early and feel the dewdrops on the leaves. It gives me time to relax in the evening with a cup of tea along with my wife. It shall give all the basic vegetables I will ever need in a few weeks time- green and fresh.

Wind-hole in Wangdue

Legend has it that the Wind in Wangdue comes from a hole in the elephant hill. And many still believe so, finding no geographical justification to why Wangdue should be so windy when places around it are calm. To add more gravity to the legend, the wind at the southern end of the Wangdue Dzong is man-blowing; if you haven’t been there you don’t really know how windy the windy Wangdue is.

Man-blowing wind.

The gigantic prayer flag on the hill waves ferociously with sound enough to surpass twenty scooters starting at once, every blade of grass points in the direction of the wind, trees seem to have lost much of their leaves to the wind… every inch of the hill spells out the power of the wind.

I went looking for the hole, from the head to the tip of the trunk of the elephant hill. I wanted to photograph the wind at its source, but the legend remained a legend- I couldn’t find the hole this time. But the wind blew me into wonder- is so much power going to go wasted everyday in blowing dust around? Or embarrassing and shy girl by blowing up her kira, or by blowing off a bald man’s hat? Can’t it be harnessed into useful energy- to pump water or generate electricity? Because even if there is no wind hole in the hill there is undeniable power of wind sweeping the hill at all times.