When Kids are made to Fight

I was supposed to photograph the fight actions but I rather found the expressions more charming. I was laughing most of the time and missed many good expressions. To save space I have photoshopped the four pictures into one:

Amused, Anxious, Hurt and Shy- all too honest!

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Memories from Drukgyel

It reminded me of my silver medal in Drukgyel High School back in 2002. I was then 72 kg heavy, which put me up with a tall red belt guy Karma Tenzin. I requested him early on not to knock me out and not to hit me hard. I wasn't even white belt. During my trainings I was put far behind because I wasn't so pleasing to the master, whose sharchopka I didn't understand. Thanks to Jakie Chan, I had picked up some kicks from his movies.

During those longest two minutes of my life I was running around the ring. Karma was kind enough to spare my head until I used one of Jakie Chan's kicks to push him down. I quickly regretted it but by then he was upset and I had to pick my helmet from the ground. I lost the match to win the silver medal because there were just two of us in our weight category.

Butterfly-III

This is my first time trying my hand on Macro Lens. I got some self satisfaction but I know they have nothing special in them. I took care of a few aspect of photography, like positioning at the side, but despite my long chase I couldn't get the butterfly rest in the shade.

It's hard to believe that this little creature will soon become a butterfly

A flower near my lab

Face of a flower

Another guest on flower

butterfly with torn wings

amazing colors on a butterfly wings

Something More Serious than the Decorated Case of Rape

Tashi Dema's "A romance gone wrong" in Kuensel today digs into a love story which was decorated into rape, and it landed up exposing something beyond rape to worry about. The court had all the time and reason to interfere into a consensual relationship,yet I don't know (seriously don't know) if it was not the Law's responsibility to concern about why the girl's parents denounced their marriage. 


Bhutan has long done away with caste discrimination but it prevails subtly across the country and I am concerned that there is no known measures taken to combat it. This time it came right at the doors of Tsirang court, yet it goes unattended. Don't we have law that cares for such serious social ill?


I have very limited knowledge on this social division called caste and it will be the last thing I would want to know. It seems to be totally based on traditional beliefs; the beliefs that are deep rooted in age of darkness and ignorance. How could god discriminate his own creations? It was men who drew those dark lines between brothers- men who said widows have to be burnt alive with their dead husbands.

The girl's family has conducted the final rites for the girl, accepting her as dead just because she eloped with her low caste lover. For social pride one could go that far to give up ones own child. However the boy's parents, despite the bitter experiences, has housed the girl and I am wondering who is of bigger caste in the eye of god.

All these traditional dirt lingers in the minds of uneducated folks and it is only matter of time until it becomes part of history. Parents can no more pour their poison into their educated children because they have wiser minds.

Dear students III

When you feel the cold in morning hours, see the greenery fading away and leafs falling from tree what comes to your mind? Don't be philosophical and tell me it reminds you of impermanence of life. As winter sets in you should be better worrying about examination. It is unfair though that an exam decides your course of life but fairer part is that you have the power to choose how you write your exam. Destiny is not written in one day; it is drafted and edited according to choices you make day after day.

Writing your exam is closest to writing your destiny and therefore there is need for serious considerations. Of

course I see a lot of you getting busier by the day but I am concerned still of some important aspects which we take for granted. As a student myself, I would spend enough time on studying the content and I would gamble with certain chapters' probability of coming in exam having read through many past question papers. By the time I set foot on the threshold of exam hall I would be fully ready. But I never really came out with good score. And you see, it doesn't matter how well you know, at the end of the day what counts is how well you scored.

Now the question is what went wrong in my preparation? After this many years I have found the answer. All the while I forgot to physically prepare myself. I realized that until exam time I have never sat in one fixed place for over an hour, I haven't written more than two pages in one go, and I haven't spend hours thinking hard, not ever until exam. No matter how much you know, as you keep sitting for longer duration than you ever did your body denies you proper functioning, then you start losing focus. Your fingers were never used to writing for three hours and therefore even your fingers ask for excuses. And most importantly, your attention level fades away after sometime and you can hardly recall what you know. This is how you come out of exam hall defeated.

I remember telling you in assembly about this thing right in the beginning of the year, and I am hoping you are

doing your regular physical training for your exam. Weekends are the best times, please give yourself three

hours of non-stop sitting and writing, without toilet, water, music, mobile and friends. If you haven't started

yet, you are not late.

I can't assure you great marks because it will also depend on how much you studies but I can at least guarantee that you can bring out everything that you have inside. I am not sad about things I didn't know but about things I knew, which remained unexpressed.

Best wishes

Dear Students... I studied in Dawakha

Have you heard of Dawakha Pry School? It is in Paro by geography but it could be easily misunderstood for a place in Ha because it falls between Chunzom and Ha. It was a great location for a war movie or horror movie but people chose to construct a school there. Worse, my guardians sent me there. Much later in life I realized that I was sent there on punishment. What was my crime? It is sad to share with you that my crime was nothing more than occupying space in the room and emptying pots in the kitchen. I was rustic, ugly and born to poor mother but I have never demanded for new clothes, not for food my cousins had or for a brighter room than the store I was put in. yes, I confess I hated cleaning their pets shit every time I came home. I was eight yet washed my own clothes and bought my own shoes from money I saved in beer bottles. I washed dishes for them carried water from the well. I still remember how heavy that well bucket was. I didn't deserve to be sent to Dawakha.

As if I didn't have enough already Dawakha was full of hateful people. Captains didn't have to have reason to make us naked and peel our skin, the head master would tie us naked on the volleyball post where the girl could see, and teachers were very choosy about the sticks they use. I don't remember a day I didn't cry in Dawakha. Headmaster was so fond of using WFP supplied Oak hammer to knock us down- it only takes a few minutes to regain consciousness but it takes days to heal the swell, of course it never healed until I passed out from there because before the first one could subside we would be blessed with next. Of all the people there I remember Lopen Dawa fondly for being kind enough to use flat planks which gave louder sound than pain. In his eyes I saw mercy.

Today when I remember the hostel I can only relate it to Nazi Concentration Camp. Thirty students were squeezed into a room, where our beds are made on muddy floor. There were lice on every fiber of our cloth and smell of urine even in our plates. But my biggest pain was hunger. School had WFP supply but I don't know why they couldn't feed us enough, I would be dead if not for the peaches and apples we had in stock from our labor during the weekends. Headmaster's chickens had better amount than us. There were times we were fed only ata boiled in water and worse two small potatoes per meal.

That was the school I studied in and when I look at you today I find no reason why you can't study. You are lucky, the only person who can cause you pain is you. Be kind to yourself and gift yourself a good life.

Your lovingly

PaSsu

Dear Students,

This is my first letter to you and I want you to know I will be writing to you often over the years. I have many things to tell you but we hardly get time to sit down and talk in school, more over I don't meet many of you at all. I love writing letters but I can't remember when I wrote my last letter; after email and mobile came in I found it cheaper to talk and chat then to spend in stamps.
However I have written enough letters in my life that even if I can't write anymore I have the right to forgive myself. I have made friends across the country through letters, I have kept my friendship alive through letters, I kept my parents informed through letters, and most funnily I wrote to many of my fortunate relatives asking for some clothes, a pair of shoe, or a few hundred Ngultrum, guess what! they were the only people who weren't impressed with my letters. At the end of the day when I do maths I would wish if I had kept the money I had instead of wasting them in stamps and envelops. I would write again though, like gambling, to recover my loss only to lose more.
Over eight years passed since I posted my last letter...and today I finally decided I will write letters again, and this time I will write to you, telling stories from my life, my childhood and my high school to let you all know how lucky you all are today.
This letter is just an introduction and therefore I will not talk on anything. I am just happy that I don't have to find an envelop or buy a stamp. I know you may never read this but I am satisfied that I wrote it.

Living After Death-II

This article is inspired by Dawa's Live talk show on BBS with three doctors on 27th Sept. I regard the three of them as Angels of Light. 

Transplanted Cornea- Photo Wikipedia

In my "Living after Death" I expressed my willingness to donate my body parts after I die, and I meant it. But I wasn't quite sure about which all organs could be of use then, which is why even lungs and brain are in the list. However I am surprised that even the thin watery tissue (called Cornea) over my eye balls could be a life changing donation. It could help a blind see the light of the world. So dear Dr. Gado, please register me as your donor.

In medical history the first cornea transplant was performed in 1905 by Eduard Zirm, and after 105 year Bhutan is blessed. It is a surgical procedure where a damaged or diseased cornea is replaced by donated corneal tissue.

The tissue has to be removed from a recently deceased individual which make it hard to find donors unlike blood.

Bhutan is going to have an eye bank by next year where the donated cornea will be stored. But as of now we are getting it from Tilganga Eye Hospital in Nepal and we may have to depend on international donations until we could change the mindset of the people . It is said that many Bhutanese feel if their eye is removed after they die they may be born blind in their next life. But I have never seen any woman giving birth to a piece of charcoal, which ought to be since we are reduced to charcoal after we die. His holiness the Je Khenpo boldly denounced the superstitious beliefs and encouraged organ donation (in his statement to Business Bhutan). 

As for myself, I am not worried about being born blind in my next life since the eye bank will be waiting. I am so thankful that I lived a complete life and as I go I want someone to see the beautiful world I saw. Long after I said goodbye I would be seeing the world through my donated eye. I want to live after death. 

P:S: National Health Policy seems to be silent on Organ Donation and transplant for whatever reason...(read Business Bhutan)

Exam for the Future

This morning I made Nu.300 invigilating Dzongkha Language Proficiency Test in my school. Thank you ECB for the occasional treat, otherwise we teachers hardly get to see anything more than our salary.

I don't know if my translation of the test as DLPT is anywhere close to what it really is but from its objective I can understand just that. In Bajo alone 404 candidates sat for the exam which shall give them the license to run for Local Government leaders' post sometime soon. Of course popularity in their own villages should be a bigger test since it is voting that will decide finally.

It is reported that there are close to 5000 people sitting for the test across the nation today and I am keen to know how many of them knew why they were doing it. In my center here, a few of them where truly surprised when they were asked to read and write. While it was inspiring to discover that one of our students also sat for the test along with her sister and father.

It took us far more time and energy to get the folks into the hall than anticipated, but at least in my hall I was given full cooperation despite occasional jokes from old men, which shook the house with laughter. Today all of them are just another group of dreamers but someday a few of them will be our leaders.

Butterfly-II

It was a noisy day among the excited children in the sports fields. I was running after balls and people with my camera, and of all the shots today I loved the butterfly sitting calmly on a flower.

My favorite Shot of the day- photo by PaSsu

Dear Teachers, whip my son when required

I am a teacher myself and I quite understand your life in school, therefore I grant you the permission to whip my son when required; the law forbidding that is devised by people residing out of school, so ignore it.

Thrash him if he is not serious about his studies when you tell him politely, thrash him if he doesn’t bring his home work on time repeatedly, thrash him if he tries to cheat on you in anyways, and thrash him if he breaks school rules intentionally, but forgive him after that, give him chance to improve.

Like any other parents I will blame you if he fails in your subject but unlike them I will acknowledge you more if he does well. He is your responsibility. He is an intelligent child in search of an inspirational teacher and I hope you will give him the wings.


He has a dream of his own and I urge you not to force your dream onto him, let him understand his dream and let him find his way.

I love my child and I don’t want you to hate him. Tell me in advance if you hate him so that I could change his class for I can’t change the attitude of hateful teacher. While I permit you to beat him I also want you to have objectives attached with each spank and let it not miss on to his vital organs.

And most importantly, don’t not touch my child in anger, for anger is unreasonable and I don’t want my child beaten by a fool, in such case I can be worse.


Love and regards

Wangdue Tshechu- a time to remember Uma Lengo

Two years ago I wrote an article on Uma Lengo for Bhutan Windows, a magazine that faded away after its first publication. Although I am still unpaid for that work I have no regrets; that assignment gave me opportunity to learn about a personality who lived a mysterious life.

Uma Lengo and Tshomem- an illustration I did for the story

Wangdue Tshechu used to be an event Uma Lengo would look forward to. He would pose himself as Kudu with a leather whip and wander around the courtyard of the dzong. People believe that during this times he must have been escorting the Tshomem, his consort.

The full article will be published here if I can locate it.

9/11- Burn a Quran Day

9/11/2001- seconds before the second plane hit

On this day 9 years ago four American Airlines jet hijacked by terrorist group masterminded by Bin Laden suicide-attacked the US. Two of the four hit on the World Trade Center twin towers, one hit the Pentagon and the last which was headed for White House crashed in a field. Today is a day to remember ...but...

One lone voice of some Pastor Jones of a small congregation in Florida with only about 50 followers disturbed the minds of million in the world. This man wanted to remember 9/11 victims by burning copies of Quran today. Quran or Koran is the holy book of Islam.

To Pastor Jones and his followers:

Pastor Jones- the man with bad idea

Why are you burning Quran? Quran is not Bin Laden’s Diary or his preaching. Quran is the holy book of Islam and Islam wasn't responsible for 9/11. Terrorists were Muslims but all Muslims are not terrorists. You can’t hate all the mothers in the world just because your mother ill-treated you. If you really want to burn it do it in the corner of your house and stop creating unrest in the world. You are a bad man. You are not different from terrorists; they misunderstood Islam and your misunderstood Christianity.

To Muslim who were disturbed by the plan:

Muiz Nasrallah wrote in Facebook, "You may burn thousands, millions of Koran, but you cannot burn our religion." and I say yes, Quran is just a book, faith is all that matters. Why make big issue out of a crazy man’s plan. It is all about being hyper-reactive; we don’t tickle a person on the forehead, we do under his arms because that part reacts. It’s a good chance to show to the world that Islam is not what they think, Islam is tolerant and Islam loves peace too. People have burnt Buddhist temples and bombed Buddha’s statues but nothing happened, so they were bored and they bombed no more.

To Media:

Media is responsible for the unrest. Otherwise what difference would one man with 50 followers matter in the world so big? Why did they make his crazy plan hot news? If it was not broadcast, no one would know and nothing would happen.

I was in Drukgyel High School when the Twin Tower came crumbling down, which triggered the war in Afghanistan; nine years on today so many people were killed and what have we got? There should be a better way to remember 9/11!

P:S: Today is the last day of the holy month of Muslims. Muslims labour working in Bajo Construction took our school's big speak for their prayer ceremony. Wish them good day!

My King and I- The Best Moment of my Life.

My Short visit to Heaven

I graduated in 2006 December, employed in 2007 January, got paid in 2007 July onwards, and was called for convocation only in 2009 October. All my friends were coming and they called me up to come, which is the only reason why I had to agree on going back after three long years. It was too late for them to tell us that we have graduated. Some friends had passed away in those three years.

Upon reaching there I thanked god that I came, because His majesty the King graced the occasion. To add to the glory his majesty posed for photograph with each one of us. I was about 700 teachers behind and yet shivering with excitement. As my turn neared I was almost flying and fading. When I finally gave the closest bow to my king, received the scroll and stood next to him I couldn’t feel myself anymore until I felt the royal pat on my shoulder. If I had a little weaker heart I would have fainted. That was the moment I felt totally enlightened. When I recomposed myself I forgave the convocation and thanked it for giving me the life’s best moment.

I even forgive Kuensel for letting me come there over and over for the last one year and a half for the Picture.  And I forgive the person there for not giving me the softcopy of the picture. 

My Daughter is a Reckless Driver

My daughter had an accident in her walker this morning; she got a bad bruise on her forehead which soon subsided after her mother ice-sponged it. After some investigation we found out that the driver, our daughter, didn’t have license for the six-wheeler she toppled in. The lone eyewitness, her mother, says the reckless driver was seen over speeding across the rooms before it toppled over the foot mat which blocked the way into the kitchen. It is further reported that the driver cried a lot. No action has been taken against her since she is the boss of the house.

Thank you god for keeping my child safe and giving me reasons to smile every day. 

Reckless Driver in her first six-wheeler

A Change that made sense- Fishing License

By reading "Kuchu and Kumbu" story in our primary school we were supposed to learn a lesson but as always many things we were taught in school were for the sake of occupying the teaching time and should not be taken seriously. A tank in Phuntsholing is over populated with fishes and "authorities are finding ways to relocate them". Why waste money in something that should be bringing profit instead? Simple solution to the problem is to harvest the fishes but unfortunately those fishes are not meant for killing. They are for decoration? If we are really concerned about killing, why are we importing fishes from India? All in all it is another Potato and Chips story!

For that matter our rivers are so full of fishes but only flood can kill them. Million of new fishes are born each year to die their natural death. It's just matter of common sense, which we have least. After all we are buying fishes for outside, what is sense in forbidding fishing? 

I salute the minister of agriculture for being wise enough to grant fishing license to the villagers of a remote corner in Wangdue (from BBS TV). Throughout history the village lived on fishing but so far they were crippled by the law forbidding their livelihood. Minister educated the farmers (lets call them fishermen) on sustainable fishing, which made more sense. This day will go down in history as the "day Bhutanese made sense"!

Read Detailed report on the project in Business Bhutan

An Old Book Can't Decide my Daughter's Destiny

After becoming father I was surprised to find myself turning into an orthodox man; I would touch fire or water before I see my daughter when I come at night, I would put a black mark on her face when taking her out in dark, and we would take her to a temple if we had a bad dream…

But one thing I could not agree on is writing her destiny- keytshe. People say it is crucial for us to ask an astrologer to see what destiny has in store for our daughter and get it written down. I am told that we have to give astrologer the date and time of birth and he will go through his book and find out the details of our daughter’s life; as in how long will she live? How would she live her life? What would she become? How would she die? What are her bad or good days and years?

My question is who wrote that damn book? And when was that book, which could tell everybody’s fate, written? I know God didn’t write that book, and I am sure it must be written hundreds of years ago during the times when people still thought earth was flat. And tell me how possibly could such book dare talk about a life of person living in the age of computers and rockets?

I want to bring up my daughter with the belief that her life is what she makes of it and not decided by her birth. I want her to know that she has options in life and each option has its own consequences. I want her to have dreams of her own and work hard towards them. She should grow up to know which pen she chooses to write her own book of destiny.

Sonam's Birthday on calendar

Date of her birth is important to us because it was then our daughter came among us with bundle of happiness, and therefore I have cut November month of 2009 calendar and laminated it to be presented to my daughter when she is grown up. As of myself, though born in modern times don’t even known my actual birthday and don’t have a picture of my childhood.

Two things I want to own before I die

Otherwise I am a simple man with very limited demands and desire; I am ok with one pair of shoes in a year, black and white mobile phone, second hand car... but there are two things I wish for despite all my limitations. I don't want to die without a big canon Camera and an iPad. With a Bhutanese salary I know I can never buy any of these but I will work hard or may be I will have to finally agree on going for Masters if at all it should give me enough money to buy these two gadgets.

iPad, something I wanna walk with!

Camera of my Dream

My Daughter Becomes Nine Month Old

Sonam N Tshomo near Chimmi Lhakhang

9:09 PM this evening my daughter became nine months old. Thank you, God, for the nine months of extreme happiness and thank you more for leading us through the heart breaking moments. Being a parent is the most serious business I have known for the last nine precious months; business where all our love is invested without a slightest expectation of return. All you ever want back is an innocent smile, which my daughter, Sonam N Tshomo has lots to give.

List of SNT’s Activities for the Record

• tore two pairs of shoes
• broken a Walker
• speaks a lot (her own Language)
• shoots from room to room at supersonic speed
• shits only when put in walker
• doesn’t even have her first tooth
• uses her left hand most of the time
• hates playing with toys- she likes real things
• dances to Dzongkha songs
• farts like a big fat lady
• uneasy with new people
• sweats heavily
• can clap, wave, and dance when asked to
• can say apa, mama, angay, … and hundred others sounds
• hates sleeping in Cradle

All good things come to an end

Dechen in the Center (in White) during her office Picnic

Dechen is one rare species of humankind; fat body with the fattest heart. Her life is boring without a single enemy. She makes sure everyone gets a seat in the hall and there is chicken on everybody’s plate. She has become a part of my family; she is our driver, second mummy to my kids, second husband to my wife, and second wife to me (joking). She is the best human we know in Wangdue, but Wangdue ran out of its luck this morning or may be we were unlucky; Dechen packed her home and left for Thimphu.

We were so lucky to have crossed path with Dechen who left golden footprints in our lives. Tonight the sky over Wangdue seems darker. Goodbye Dechen you can’t leave us, we will follow thee.

Cactus in Wangdue

Prickly Pear- the type found in Wangdue

Cactus may be ornamental plant for people living in any place other than Wangdue. Here it is nuisance. It over-grows everywhere. It got me wondering if Wangdue was a desert once upon a time, or at times I fear if Wangdue is going to become a desert some day too soon. Of course, my understanding is cactus grows in deserts. The question remains; why would this plant which is supposed to grow in arid land, grow along side the Punatshangchhu.

Over these years I have come to understand the thorny plant and learnt to live with it in harmony- I have realized it is not as attractive as I have known it. I have learned to forgive it. Of all the wonderful species of cactus Wangdue has the ugly Prickly Pear of Opuntia family, which is commonly found in North America.

Good side of Cactus

Golden blossom

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  It flowers seasonally. The golden yellow blossom spellbinds many first timers.
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  The fleshy stem can be cooked and fed to cattle after removing the sharp thorns.
• 
  
  If used for fencing it can be more secure than bob wire.
• 
  
  Though not done here but records in Wikipedia shows that same cactus found in Wangdue can be used for medical purpose, can be consumed as food, and can be used as intoxication.

Bad side of it:-

If you are touching the plant, its fruit in particular, by the time you realize hundred and one almost-invisible thorns called glochids would have dislodged and pricked your skin. Forget about removing it you can’t even trace it with your naked eyes. But the pain is in contrast to its size. These fine spines are blown by wind and it can reach your room posing threat to your children’s comfort causing irritation and if not removed can cause infection (Sabra Dermatitis).

Glochids on close-up

The bigger thorn has a strange natural character, if it pricks you it can’t be removed backward without medical surgery. It has to be driven further in to be drawn from the other side of your body part.

It is the worst enemy of vehicle tires. Once it gets into your tire, unlike nails, it is impossible to trace therefore every time you fill in the air your new tube will be punctured by the hiding thorn.

Further this plant had bad history with countries like Australia where it was once introducted as natural fencing but later it invaded the farmland resulting in making huge amount of land unproductive. The government had to go as far as creating a Commonwealth Prickly Pear Board to get rid of the plant. 

Larvae of Cactus moth

One thing to learn from history; introduction of certain moth called cactus moth or nopal moth can gradually bring an end to the Pickly Pear population outburst. The Larvae of the moth feeds on the plant.

All Picture are from Wikipedia

“Ladies, go back home” Policy

Government drove off all Indian maids working in Bhutanese homes and now you can’t even keep Bhutanese helpers. What alternative did the government come up with? Well it none of their business. Following the house raid last year families across the nation are devastated, all they could do was to call their old parents to babysit for them. What about those without parent? Well, don’t give birth!

Despite substantial effort in bringing about gender equality, Bhutan couldn’t really remove its deep root from feminine discrimination. The ill feeling is at the heart of our beliefs, superstitions, religion and culture. We are all brought up with the belief that girls are nine lives below us, whatever it mean. It takes a man to perform or inaugurate an important ceremony. It will be considered bad if a woman walks over a man, or for that matter his gho or any other things that belong to man. If you know a Bhutanese fairy tale, tell me who is the gunda boss? Who else but a witch. There is no room in Bhutan where man can’t go in but many temples have certain chambers where females are forbidden. Symbol of male sex organ (phallus) is considered scared and is seen hanging from roofs and drawn on walls but not the female one. Even wise figure like Guru Rimpochee relates tobacco with female menstrual fluid. One Dzongkhag text we were taught in high school fully talks on how dirty a female body is. This is a short list I can remember to illustrate the depth of feminine prejudice in our society.

And with change in time things seem to have moved on but with the root deep down underneath how we could expect so much; Health people say a mother must breastfeed their baby for full six month while the maternity leave is just three months and no office will allow women employees to walk in the office with their babies. Now as women rub shoulders with men, our society can't resist it and therefore “ladies, go back home” policy is put in place- I mean if babysitters are illegal or made unaffordable it only means mothers leaving the jobs and going back home.

Just sit down with a cup of tea and look back on our beliefs and culture and ask yourselves who must have made them. If your mind is not frozen in some ancient times perhaps you would realize that all of these are brainchild of some powerful foolish men back in Dark Age.

Bhutan’s Dream Town in Making

Wangduephodrang survives on one of Bhutan’s most rustic towns built clumsily on a hill along the eastern highway. It was temporary town though but lasted for generations without development. Today it faces all problems on earth; litter, toilets, parking space, housing, water supply, traffic congestion,… which bring about social disharmony among the dwellers.

It is only good for tourists who love looking at strange places; one could easily misunderstand it for a village badly stricken with poverty. But in those shaky huts, among the dusty dwellers live people with big dreams and big money, all they ever needed was a space.

Plan for the new town was laid seven years ago in the breathtaking paddies of Bajo valley. But land allotment dispute froze the plan for over six years. The place was called townplan, it had road, electrification, drainage and parking in place except buildings. It was often referred to as invisible town.

Wangdue Landscape 2002- Google Earth

All disputes apparently came to an end last year and government gave green signal to constructions. The race began and in less than a year we can see magnificent structures standing. From some verandas we can already see clothes hanging. The deadline for completion of construction is by the end of December 2010, which seems like a lot of time. By then the town is going to come alive with people and shops.

From a distance Bajo town looks like a huge palace unlike other new towns elsewhere. Our neighboring town of Kuruthang looks like a town wrecked apart by a bomb. But Bajo is going to be different; it is a well planned and executed. Building owners sat with their clients on the drawing board over interior and exterior designs to transform the whole look and feel of the structures.

Bajo Town nearing Completion 

As of now I can see three night clubs, two gyms, four full flat shopping malls, and an all in one medical store coming up along with the designs. Other service enterprises like beauty parlors, hotels, karaoke bars, gaming house (that’s mine), computer centers, childcare centers, etc are all waiting for the completion of the structures. I am excited about pizza restaurants, coffee houses, books restaurants and other brave new ideas people are discussing. All in all Bajo is going to be a complete package town with even people from Thimphu visiting us on weekends.

Living after Death

Earlier this week BBS headlines included a piece of News from Japan; body parts of a dead man were donated. And our students also brought it in the headlines of Bajo Broadcasting on Saturday this morning; of course they always make hot news out of stale ones. I was translating the news to my Singaporean friend Germaine and to my surprise she was surprised. She asked, “How come it is even news?” She told me that in Singapore everybody donates by default.

Then I wondered about our culture; we burn everything and perform expensive rituals. And people believe that if the body couldn’t be cremated well or the rituals weren’t performed right the soul won’t find its path and may come back as a ghost. But Buddha didn’t teach us so. He taught us to be selfless, he taught us to detach ourselves from our body even when we are living, but what are we doing? We don’t want to give up our body even when we die, worse we burn it- how selfish.

Bhutan should be the first country in the world to adopt body parts donation as national pride by the virtue of being the only Buddhist GNH country. But I am sure we will be the last country to be because we are so resistant to good change.

No matter what I am agreeing to donate my body parts after I die; I want to live after death. I swear I will not come back as a ghost.

My Take away List!

• Take my heart, it is strong and good.
• Take my brain, it is only half used.
• Take my kidney, they are stonefree.
• Take my liver, I only drink occasionally.
• Take my Lungs; I only smoked for three years.

But Don’t take my stomach, it’s bad, it took in lots of chickens, goats, cows, yaks, pigs, even some frogs. It is the source of unhappiness. Give it to my family for cremation. And during my funeral ask them to play Scorpion’s Wind of Change. And know that I am living after death because my heart will still be beating…

Drukpa: The Brave Lives on

First Issue of Drukpa

When Drukpa Magazine was launched December last year I was wondering why people don't learn from mistakes. We saw many glossy magazine launches in last few years but never saw their second issues. Some shops are still selling the first issues of those dead magazines. So there was no reason why I should be excited about Drukpa even though I love reading Bhutanese writings so much.

But to my glorious surprise I am holding the eight issue of Drukpa today and before I even started reading the first word I just looked at the caricature of Jurmi Choling and kissed it, "man, you are real something". I know even Drukpa might not have profited a bit but it is not all about business, it has to be more about loving to do the thing and I can't praise Drukpa team enough.

The Great 8th Issue

This magazine has a wonderful history; a man who was going to start a mining changed his mind and invested in something less lucrative, but he knew he was up to making a history. If he had gone for mining he would have made fortune so far but hundred years from now people will look at the deep hole on the mountain and curse him. Drukpa will earn him love and more love as years go by. I already honour this visionary man.

I hope to write for Drukpa when the theme is something I am interested in but every month I am keeping aside Nu.100 for the Brave Magazine which lives on.

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