Reflection and Contemplation Day

Mayan calender ended but not the World. We are still living and will continue to do so.  21.12.2012 is just another day, perhaps a beautiful day as always.  I told many people that the World will not end. I think I made the right prediction. I am sure my wife is relieved now to see the day pass just as any other day.

I do not know the reason myself, but from hereon in my life, I wanted to make this day (21st December) as the most special day of every year I live. Every year on this day I want to remember those people who have made lasting difference in my life. I wanted to pray for them and thank them from the bottom of my heart. I wanted to spend  rest of my 21st, Decembers as the of reflection and contemplation day of the year.  

So here are few people to whom I owe "Thank you", as big as the Sky, the Ocean and the Earth. 

My Beloved Kings 

I would like thank my beloved Kings for creating this peaceful Bhutan for us. I would like to thank them from the depths of my heart for all the inspiration and motivation they showered us every day. I thank my Kings for their unceasing love and benevolence, for all the sacrifices they made in bringing hope and happiness for us. Thank you, my beloved Kings, Today I am well educated person and that I did not become a yak herder in the mountains of Shingkhar. Thank you my Kings. 

My Beloved Parents

I thank my father and mother for being ......well,...... my everything!. I thank them for giving me this beautiful life. I thank them for enduring the darkest hours and making the biggest sacrifices for my cause. I thank them for letting me grow my own height. I thank them for being my hero and my teacher. I may take many life times to repay their kindness, care. love, dedication and affection. But today, I wanted to let them know that they are endeared in my heart. Thank you Apa and Ama

My Beloved Teachers

I would like to thank all my teachers for making me who I am today. Big or small, my teachers everywhere played their part in shaping my destiny. Thank you all my beloved teachers.

But here are two of my teachers who taught me things that were far beyond the school syllabus. Mr. Sadhu and Lopen Tenzin Dorji. I have a long story to write about these two teachers of mine, but for today, I thank them for bearing me with all my rawness and my wildness. I would also like to thank them for their love and affection, -for being able to read my heart and soul. With the height of my naughtiness and mischief, no headmaster would have given a second thought about my termination, but I thank them for giving me endless second chances. I thank them for letting me grow up myself. Thank you sirs.

My Beloved Sister

She is a different story of my life. My beloved sister!  I knew she existed somewhere in my world. I thank her for having walked-in in my life, with all her bounty, when I needed the most. I thank her for being a constant source of my pocket money and more.......I used to tell her that. "you are my golden pillar" She indeed is my golden pillar. Thank you sister.

My Beloved Friend

There is a saying that "Friends either make or break our life". Here is one of my friend who helped me shape my life in the right direction. He helped me make my life! It is again a long story but let me brief.

Long time ago, I belonged to a group called "five kids on the block". -Of course, a group of naughty boys. We were five then. But one day with a sudden demise of a prominent member, our group fell apart. I do not know how, but I found myself friendless. I felt lost and lonely, but not until I found this good friend of mine.

In 1999 we were to move to another school, far away from our homes for our higher studies, I met his father for the first time. Before we moved out, he called us inside and told us to remain best friends forever. But that same year, his father passed away. I felt equally sad like his family! but I wowed to  keep his words. We were best friends since then. All these years, we lived like a family! Thank you, Geley for being a wonderful friend. Thank you for guiding me. scolding me and above all, bearing my poor self all the time.

With this, I would also like to say that I have many other friends, with whom I also shared a relationship like milk and water. Ever grateful and ever thankful. And I would like to write about them on many such 21st Decembers to come. 

My Beloved Wife

She is the most beautiful story of my life. I have not many words that can fittingly describe how thankful she is for me. In brief, I thank her for being the flower that forever blooms in the garden of my soul. I thank her for accepting me in her life. I thank her for all the smiles and happiness she brought in my life. I thank her for being the most wonderful mom for 3 most precious beings of my life. -My daughters, who are perhaps the most beautiful daughters in this world. I thank her for being with me through all this thick and thins of life. Thank you sweet heart.

For My Mother on Mothers' day

My Mother then and now

Hi Mom, 

There are not many words with which I can thank you enough. But on this special occasion of Worlds mother day, I would like to thank you for all the tears you have shed, all the pleasures you have forgone and all the pains you have overcome in bringing me thus far. Mom, you are sincerely and wholeheartedly endeared. You are loved from the core of my heart. 

It is visible that the age has taken away the luminosity off your visage, but you are still my shining star. Your innocent toothless smiles have always done the magic of brightening up my mundane life. Thank you millions  for being my loving mother.

Mom, you are rare. 

Mom, I love you more

and Mom, I can die for you.

Happy Mothers day to all the mothers in the world. 

The Most Good looking Man and Women in my World

My Dad

My Mom.

Seeing these Portraits,

I go speechless,

There isn't a word,

Which describes neither the artistic beauty 

Nor the beauty you behold in the portrait. 

My Mom and Dad

As it stands,

Immortalized like great Monalisa,

By my favorite Artist,

My Sister.

Pema Lhamo is her name,

Mother of Three,

She is an artist in her own way,

She is my definition of Van Gogh,

Picasso, Edward, and on goes the list...

I Thank My sister for her creation,

I wish her good luck.

Here is a Story of my Mom and Dad

In the summer of 2008

 By Profession, I am a carpenter.  My world into carpentry all started when I debuted my skills as carpenter with construction of a small monastery on the cliff of Sumthrang in Ura for a lama cum lopen known more as Chhoeje in our locality.

With this, I have built numerous houses both in my locality and afar. Some of my finest craftsmanship is today visible in the beauty of Tango monastery in Thimphu and magnificent and towering Dzong in Punakha  to which I made my contribution under the divine decree I received from the fourth dragon King of Bhutan. In similar fashion, my wife was a traditional handloom weaver. She used to weave many beautiful Jachen Kisho thara  and woolen yathra for our Naktsang Ama then.  Ironically, we have no certificates what so ever to prove our profession here.

At our local level, we both originated form a well off family. Both our parents had everything necessary that would sustain livelihood of the family, -Starting from herd of cattle in the low lands to yak in the alpine, added by  group of pony and flock of sheep at the door step.  That was the definition of rich then, -so called the chukpo in local terminology.

Since we are both from the same village, there was nothing strange when we got married in our prime twenties. To say, I was the best looking man in my village, it would rather sound blowing my own triumphant, but I sincerely would like to assert here that my wife was the definition of damsel during our time.

 Few years into our gleeful marriage we were blessed with a good looking son. Sadly he  didn’t make to his adulthood. His demise was painful beyond our words.  However, we were again blessed to have a beautiful daughter followed by two sons. This obviously called for a concern from my late mother-in-law with whom we shared the house, because too many mouths to feed meant severe economic pressure on the constant family livelihood.  

Somehow, she wanted us to live separately. Her decision, by any means was subtle. When that thing got combined with other nitty-gritty family feuds, our small family had no option other than to take a shelter in a shade used for cattle. All we had was a small copper pot and a load of locally stitched blankets and mattress.  That was it, we received little support whatsoever form both our parents.

The days turned to weeks and weeks into months.  The years passed and passed swiftly.  The otherwise beautiful and idyllic valley was nothing but a mere barren plateau for us. So to make our life worth living and more so to make use of my young-fatherly strength, we migrated to lower lands of Kurtoe. There, we worked tirelessly on Government land. We planted maize and chilli. To make ends meet, we even resorted to easy picking like raising piglets for pork!

It was not only me and my family, who were at rough sea. There were other events unfurling as well. My younger sister was denied her access to our house when she decided to marry a man against our late parents will. There were also rumors that she moved to different place altogether.

Until my late younger brother took over, I used to be the strongest man in my village. That strength came in handy for me. A father of my status required it all. Those were the days when I, first experimented my carpentry instincts.  I became carpenter out of necessity and by default!

Isolated and cutoff, those were the days of great depression for my family. The competition was fierce and those in possession of land fairly progressed and prospered. We prospered and progressed as well, but in terms of having children! If progress was to be measured in terms of having children, then we surely beat all our competitors. In gap of eleven years, my wife again gave birth to four loveliest and cutest daughters.  That took my family to nine including two of us.

We then decided to move back to our native place on permanent basis. Even though we survived hand to mouth, we were also able to save in terms of grains, because my carpentry skills and my wife’s weaving skills came in handy. Few years later we not only decided to build a house but also started domesticating few yaks, a pair of pony and a flock of sheep.

With all those hard works and perseverance, we finally managed to pull ourselves into the flow of life as any other locals.  By then two of our elder sons were already admitted to school which was closely followed by two daughters.  We had little to feed but surely had lots and lots of amusements. My children would come home every Saturday evening and display every lessons they learnt, -starting form nursery rhymes to folk songs, from national anthem to march-past song and from Che-Nye-Sum to One-Two-Three. They learnt it all  by heart !

With few kids into the school and few at home, still crawling and toddling, my wife again gave birth to a healthy son when I was in full swing with the construction of our much awaited and anticipated house. My little son grew up like the way our house took shape, stone by stone and wood by wood.

Four years later, my wife again gave birth to a daughter.  She became our ninth children. The tenth and the final one soon followed after a gap of four equal years. The mere numbers created plethora of predicament in varying magnitudes. The food ran scarce and so did the cloths. Amazingly, to the envy of our local leader, my iron like kids looked well feed and well clothed.

Predicament kept mounting, day by day and the credit grain I availed from a rich man in Kurtoe couldn’t even sustain my large family. I even had to discontinue sending few of my children, who had good record academically, to school. When pillar and post ran short, I had no option other than to run to Thimphu to beg for kidu from the king himself. He graciously consented to my plea and I was given a land on which I could cultivate and feed my growing and voracious kids.  

That was also the time I first met my youngest brother who recently became dasho along with few other dashos like him from our place. I came back home with all the good  second hand cloths I have collected from my relatives and  with the empty but but of high utility oil cans I have gathered from the bins of the city. For my youngest son I managed to buy a new Pangtse gho as I have promised.

Our lives have improved as a result of Kidu form the king and I made up my mind never to keep my kids out of school. When my three youngest children started schooling, life became relatively easier than it was decade ago. Just like their brothers and sisters, three of them also did well in school too.

Today all my ten children have grown up and have a family of their own.  We could educate only five of them and all are doing fine. Remaining five, today are following our footsteps but in much better circumstances. Some of them have become grandfather and grandmother themselves!

Some are religious and some spirituous. Some have a tongue as sharp as serpent while some are down-to earth human. Some treated us with utmost respect and dignity where as some bothered least. They are our kids by heart and by soul. Irrespective of all their treatment towards us, we love them all equally form the bottom of our heart, because we believe at one point or the other, we have sacrificed our lives just for them.

Recently, I am being diagnosed with high blood pressure and as a result of which half of my body lost sense including my mouth. I can speak no more but understand and hear them all. As per indigenous doctors, they say, it’s because of my over exposure to the burning flames of Meme Ragula, also known as Zaa in Bhutanese context.

To enlighten me, all who come to see me say that it’s a curable ailment and that I should remain emotionally stable, pray to Guru Rimpoche and take blessings from as many rimpoche as possible. It’s my hope against hope that that it works, because I don’t want to die dumb. I have many prayers to say for my lovely children, my grand children and for my great grand children, before I bid farewell to this beautiful world.