My WAB Dream

Recently we have started a Facebook group following our idea of building the Writers Association of Bhutan. Good responds we received inspired us to begin a blog. With this two we are in search of people who love writing, who can inspire us with their passion and who can lead us through our dream of having a formal association.

The blog has just begun and we have five writers so far, we are looking for interested writers to come forward and be our part. It's a long dream and just daring is enough right now.

I wanted to share my dream of WAB with my readers here, but I have it already posted on the WAB blog and therefore I urge you to go there once and see if you can help us.

My WAB Dream

Well I am still waiting for my writers to break the ground but looks like they are all looking for something substantial to start with, probably they think this is not for their casual writings. But I must clarify that this is indeed the place for anything and everything you have on your mind. Until you decided what to write let me give my piece of mind about the association.

I know it will take time but I am just happy that it has begun. When we first discussed the Idea of the association the first thing that came to my mind was promotion of writers and assisting them with their publication. Where will the money come from? We will figure that out, which is why we are grouping. Writing is one thing and struggling to get it publish is another which puts an end to the first one. Many of us might have been victims ourselves. ...

Read the rest on http://writersassociationofbhutan.blogspot.com/

ReBlog: Leave Applications

I know there are some articles I am yet to write but forgive me I forgot them all. I sat here hundreds of times to write something but suddenly I feel empty. So, until I get rid of this block I would like to make some of you laugh the way I did when I read this email from Wangchuk Bidha:

A GNM from JDWNRH: Applied for leave as follows:

"Since I have to go to my village to sell my land along with my wife , please sanction me one-week leave." 

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This is from a Primary Teacher-a keralite: who was performing the "mundan" ceremony of his 10 year old son:

"as I want to shave my son's head , please leave me for two days.."

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Another gem from NEC-Thimphu, Leave-letter from an employee who was performing his daughter's wedding:

"as I am marrying my daughter , please grant a week's leave.."

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From Administration section of MoHCA:

"As my mother-in-law has expired and I am only one responsible for it , please grant me 10 days leave."

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Another employee from BBSC applied for half day leave as follows:

"Since I've to go to the cremation ground at 10 o-clock and I may not return , please grant me half day casual leave"

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An incident of a leave letter:

"I am suffering from fever , please declare one-day holiday."

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A leave letter to the headmaster:

"As I am studying in this school I am suffering from headache. I request you to leave me today"

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Another leave letter written to the headmaster:

"As my headache is paining , please grant me leave for the day."

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Covering note:

"I am enclosed herewith..."

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An official rely from MoLHR to a businessman:

"Dear Sir: with reference to the above , please refer to my below..."

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Actual letter written for application of leave by an MP (DPT):

"My wife is suffering from sickness and as I am her only husband at home I may be granted leave".

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Letter writing by my son:-

"I am well here and hope you are also in the same well."

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A perspective candidate's job application:

"This has reference to your advertisement calling for a ' Typist and an Accountant - Male or Female'... As I am both(!! )for the past several years and I can handle both with good experience , I am applying for the post.

How was it? I don't know whose brain is behind this piece... whom ever it may concern, thank you for the laughter

Bangkok Disappointed Me...

I wasn't happy when I knew we were flying straight to Singapore without a day halt in Bangkok. I heard of the grourious city from every Bhutanese who has ever been there and I was only seeing it from the airport. During my week long stay in Singapore I was dreaming of the day I will land in Bangkok. I wanted to see the city for myself, I wanted to go shopping, explore the magnificent streets and malls, meet angel like girls, go to the beach and have a wonderful night in Bangkok after the sleepless week in Singapore!

And finally the day came, we were flying to Bangkok and this time we have a day to stay there. I envied Kuenga who had already extended her stay in Bangkok by a few days more. She had her brother studying there. Kuenga is a teacher from Drukgyel, who was among the 14 other teachers on the trip.

My excitement started dying the moment we walked out of the terminal, we had to rush for taxi under the intense heat. We had to repeat out address to the driver for eternity and finally he took us to a wrong place. The sights along the long road to our hotel gave me an impression of indian road along phuntsholing samtse highway. Damn, one piece of dust got into my eye and that bugged me the whole afternoon. My eye was conditioned to amazingly dust free Singapore already and it forgot its natural reflex.

We entered the city and I wondered if that was the same Bangkok people talk about. It was no better then Jaigong, messy, overcrowded and disorganized. I already wanted to leave. but there was more to experience when we finally got to the right address. Kuenga's brother had kindly booked us in Rangnam Apartment, a very popular place for Bhutanese visitors.

It was a nine-storeyed building with an almost broken lift. Our room has a toilet attached and a bed with mattress, and also a gigantic AC hanging over the bed, which may fall anytime. When it is put on it sounds like car, but thanks to it we were spared from being cooked. Apartments are by default this way, we should be occupying it like we rent houses. I don't know why we didn't go for a hotel instead. And guess what, this is where our Bangkok-goers spend their vacation, I would prefer my hostel in high school.

No taxi would take us to Puntip Plaza, because it happened to be too close and we had to walk. By now 'we' meant only three of us. Rest were gone. Three of us were hungry and tired but we couldn't find a place to sit. Roads are impossible to cross with heavy traffic. If we didn't find the rest of them soon we may even lose our way back to the appartment. We ask everyman on the road for direction but they all sounded like dumb. God even students can't speak english.

We got there finally and caught up with our friends but by then the whole charm of shopping was gone. I had plenty of electronics on my shopping list but people come from every corner of the mall with pronographic CD and ask us to buy and after a while I forgot everything.

In the midst of confusion two of us were singeled out and confronted by a tourist who wanted to know about Bhutan. He wanted to see our currency and it's value. God, later we knew that everybody in our group was awear of this except the two of us. The tourist disappeared into the crowd after fiddling with out purse. My friend checked his purse later to find $300 are missing. From that moment I hated every tourist I met. I didn't want to be kind to any stranger anymore.

Kuenga had planned out our shopping places, she has already been here several times. She was going to take us to three different places, which probably would be all that can be possible. But the tuktuk drivers are one hell of people. They want to take us to their choice of place first, upon us disagreeing with them we landed up paying them so much.

Only Big C cheered me up later in the evening. It was a grand shopping mall with AC and without anybody to bother. I did a lot of shopping for my daughter and wife, there can't be a better palce than this. Thanks to Kuenga and her brother who made sure we were not lost again, who took charge of our group and gave us time to rest and shop.

rest too be written...soon...and correction in process.... 

Singapore Entry: Bigger than Dream

I need some time to sit and write....wait...

Coffee Maker and the Blogger

I saw my father’s picture only in my high school, I always imagined him. He died in a bus accident when I was one.  But the bigger surprise is that I saw one of my uncles just last summer. I have always known him though. He would send us clothes when my mother visits him during the annual puja in our ancestral home. He has two sons and a daughter- my never-met cousins.

After meeting asha last summer I knew he was a great man. I always thought he was too rich to connect to us anymore, but I was wrong. It’s just that we didn’t meet. He would at times drop at my place for a cup of tea and talk down our bloodline I never knew about.

And last Saturday asha called me up to invite my family to his granddaughter’s birthday. There I saw two of my three cousins for the first time. I was anxious about how to break the ice but luckily my cousin brother Karma happened to be a very comfortable person. 

Just between our handshake and introduction he recognized me, (Do you keep a blog?) He said he follows my blog.  Not long after that I remembered “Karma’s Coffee” in Thimphu. I heard a lot about the shop and the coffee maker “Karma” and there he was talking to me. He was a man who left his job for the love of making coffee, and today he satisfies the taste buds of hundreds of coffee drinker in Thimphu- I am yet to step in for the best cup of coffee…

On the dinner table we were held spellbound by how we were already connected through our interests long before our first union. “The coffee maker and the blogger…” would be an interesting topic to start a short story…

Snowfall in Yangthang

Snowfall in Yangthang has always been a big inspiration. I completed a collection of short story under the title 'Snowfall in Yangthang'. I always wanted a photograph for my cover page; thanks to the New Year eve snowfall and my presence in my village, now I have the best picture for my cover page.

Trying my hands on Photography with inspiration from Yeshey Dorji

My Village Yangthang 

The First light on the virgin Snow

My Wife and Daughter (Just 32 Days old. It's her first morning in Yangthang and her first snowfall experience)

My Daughter's Page I

After becoming father washing diapers became more important than blogging, in case some of you wonder why I didn't write for sometime. My daughter doesn't have a name yet; I wanted to call her Deki Tshomo, but her mother thinks Deki is not a lucky name (she happened to see that in life) she rather choses Ninzey Tshomo and today my mother registered her in census as Kezang Choden, since her birth certificate carries no name.

By 9:09 PM today my daughter will be one month old. This first one month she has been a very good girl. She is not too demanding, she rarely cries at night and she gives us an occasional smile. Her good health is our biggest assert and I am grateful to god.

Tomorrow she will go to Yangthang for the first time. She will meet her little Aunty Pema Yangchen and reunite with her grandmother.

The Answer to My Quiz!

I am really surprised you all could pin point the spot. I don't know if Lobxang used his common sense or he actually saw it when he was here. But Tongyal is cheating. Youngten L Tharchen is very specific when he said "below Thinleygang", of course the whole area is Thinleygang but we often associate a town to a place.

And thanks Ma'am Loh but you know Google can't help trace a place in Bhutan. I had to correct many locations on Google Earth. Anyway thanks. It's about 30 km down Dochula to Wangdue.

I can't be Home on Lomba: Guilt of Asha Haap

Nothing is sadder in a Hap’s life than being away from home on Lomba. It falls on the 29^th day of the eleventh month in Bhutanese calendar every year. Yangthang is my home and somehow no place could ever replace it. Life in village was never easy but that didn’t matter. Ages from now nothing in Yangthang will belong to me except memories still I will call it my home. Tonight Haa valley will not sleep. Yangthang will be noisy with gangs of lads wandering houses singing with bags that need to be filled with hoentey.

Hoentey is a simple vegetarian momo-like food. The outer skin is made of buckwheat flour and the inside is either turnip or dried spinach (lom) or both fried in butter with world of species. Nothing in the world beats its taste; I can only imagine it this time though. The big local festival is considered the ushering of New Year locally, however we only have hoentey on the menu, and at times I feel it must be the cheapest festival.

Every Hap consider a year older from the night of Lomba. Strangely my baby will be two years old from tomorrow according to Haps, thought she is just 16 days old; she gets 1 year from the time she spent in the womb and another year for having celebrated a lomba. Thus we always had confusion about our age in school.

The thrill of forming groups and wandering the village in the dark making noises and breaking fences on Lomba nights are highlights in the life of a village lad. It has been over 12 years since I have out grown that age group but the memories come back afresh each year. I have never really grown since then.

I am guilty for leaving my village, my home and my mother for this job of mine, which in its nakedness is nothing but greed for money and status. But I console myself knowing that life must go on and knowing that this is what my mother wants of me. Lomba is but all together a different story, I should be home no matter what, I should be helping my mother in making hoentey and challenging my brothers in eating it… where have I come now? How far have I come from myself? When will I get to be where I want to be and do things I want to do and still be satisfied? Why are we running away from who we are in search of ourselves?