Last days of my first winter vacation after graduation.

The short winter days passed with bright sun rise and the smiling warm sun set. Closer it came the day when I must leave my dear aged parents back at my long stayed village, working in the beautifully patterned fields.

My beloved mother sweating and drooling carried on with her tiresome work. She lined up the potatoes on the rows made by my father. My caring father dripping in a pool of sweats wearily pulled spade full soil over the lined up potatoes. I squatted on the border of the field and watched them working tirelessly. My parents though in other days call me for my help that was my last second day before moving to Wangdi they didn’t allow me to work. They just wanted me to tell farewell story to them as they keenly listened and responded with breath filled in their hearts. I cannot think of living my life without their presence. But my fated novel profession soon swung with my separation from them.  

My tightfisted winter holidays ended. On the 5^th march 2013, with the sun rise I started to pack my things looking nooks and corners in my house to make sure I have left nothing unpacked. The day was called off, I wondered all around the rooms, unbolted the cases and cupboards whole day. Within the crawling of dusk I finished packing the things including my mother’s puffed rice packed in an old ragged green plastic and one full measuring bowl flattened rice packed in a pink plastic. She had also packed a bundle of dried beef and dried eggplant in a faded yellow piece of cloth especially for me.

I was bed ridden on that tiring evening and I was not able to prepare anything for my parents who were just back from their exhausting day long work. I was in a deep slumber enjoying a very humorous dream in my mother’s cozy bed.

I heard a vague voice of an old hoary man shouting from below our kitchen window, “hello! Anybody is home”. I answered, “Yes we do, and can I help you”. “Can you please lend me a room for a night halt?” hurriedly I jumped from the bed and looked out from the huge opened window of our veranda. I saw an old grey haired man, wearing a tattered black woolen gho carrying a big old traditional lidded bamboo basket leaning on our downstairs room’s windowsill. I was bit scared and murmured the words to myself, “If I answer him from here it seems I am disrespectful to the elders and if I go out and welcome him won’t he be a robber or won’t strange things happen”. I tried practicing my words before I went out. “Kuzu zangpo la! Na ga dem chi bay jem”. ( Hello! What made you to be here?)

 I tumbled down the stairs and went outside to answer the old man. I hounded the practiced words and remained in silence. He replied, “I came here to sell something worth some valuable things”. I was in big doubt, “What could this be?” Then he slowly put down the bamboo basket and told me to open the lid. At a snail’s pace I held on the leather handle and pulled the lid up…….. Three small skinny monkeys jumped out of the basket which scared me and started yelling “Tseyak! Tseyak! Tseyak!”. In a worry I closed my eyes and jolted around the old man and cried out “Azaii”. When I opened my eyes I felt stars blinking in my round shocked eyes. I saw my mother standing beside me. I think my mother came running in our bedroom and slapped me on my face. Sadly, the funny dream ended with a hand harsh slap on my cheeks. I wished if I could end that humorous dream what kind of story this would have been.    

Quickly, I have gotten up to make fire in our small rusted bhukhari in the spiced aroma kitchen. I carefully plugged the boiler. Then rinsed the rice and made it ready to cook. Hastily, I made a pickle out of chilly, tomato and onion putting a little mashed Bhutanese cheese. Mean time I saw the light indication of the boiler on warm. With half of the boiled water in the tea pot I have put scoop full yellowish local butter with pinch of salt and homemade tea leave named Yonten Dem. I stirred it hard with the blender and boiled on the fire. My suja got ready for my dear tired parents.    

The heat from the fresh cooked food warmed the cold freezing room along with the bhukhari’s rambling heat. I made everything ready in front of my parents. We started our late evening meal. As usual my father won the race of the evening mealtime. Then he started filling up hot water in the flask. My mother arranged the pots and plates in the proper place. While I plugged my laptop extension code and began face booking in front of the Bhukari. I bid farewell to my college mates who were online and chatted with my close friend Sonam Choden studying in Banglore whom I haven’t met for more than six years after secondary grades. I bid her goodbye for a while. That time I stayed late into nights listening to my mother’s life stories and essence advices.

The day before hangover has put me into deep sleep, morning till eleven. I have gotten up late and went to veranda to wash myself. There I saw our old white flask bunged beside the aluminum bowl on the cement. I shook it and found the flask was half full. Actually when my brother and sisters are home two full flask of hot water isn’t enough for us. Now, they all have left home on their studies. So presently a flask of water remains more than our use. I washed myself hastily and joined my mother and father for the breakfast. The warm shiny pots placed on the circular bamboo band filled with local red rice and a very hot red chilli with cheese. A grin on my mother’s lovely face greeted me. Happily we enjoyed the delicious breakfast chatting.

It was almost 10. My mother in a hurry dialed her taxi driver friend’s number and asked for his hand. ...........to be continued............

My articles are my good friends…

When I was in high school one of my good friends use to say, if you are an emotional person write articles, if you are promiscuous write love letters, if you are an aggressive person write applications, if you are pretentious write complains, if you are tricky write flipping messages. But I wasn’t clear why he said this to me. Truth always remains after a good reasoned action. 

I have written several articles but not an indication of my emotionality. It is just to train my senses and crane my neck to look for a better way for the   improvement on the other side.  I have read various love letters, edited applications, imitated complains and crafted many flipping messages. I prepared these groundings to compile the full blown articles. The article- ally whenever I droop from the normal sentiment. 

Those are my secret store where I can pile up each and every word I want to pour out. The sewage words were stocked within those hideous lines and sentences. I squeeze the betrayal healers in for short and make them happy, expressing my heartfelt gratitude for letting me hold on their heart to feel their warmth. I disagree with others say and store the arguments written using the frustrating words in those articles. I agree to others view and appreciate their thoughts compiling written appreciation strips. I bank the homage phrases to my beloved ones for believing in me and supporting me to become a successful person in my little world that I know. 

I also wrestle with the words of my article. Sometimes I get a corner to bang them and punch them. But one thing English is a very crazy language, most of the time they knock me down clouting their index finger on my head warning me to be alert of the rules. 

It has a never ending joy eternally clotted with pleasure and warmth to make the generations’ hull over their strong sense. English a friendly and as well a complicated helpful language to vocalize our thoughts. Thank you article and English Language.

RCSE preparation…2012

I was busy with my winter chores, the daily routine chores of the people living in the village. In summer the paddy transplantation and weeding keeps the villagers busy, in autumn they were busy standing besides the scarecrow guarding the golden ripped paddy. After reaping the long waited product the farmers have to hull the rice, sweep the chaft and winnow the grains. Some families with no enough leisure raise piggery and poultry farms. They do hard slog chores feeding slops to their pigs, chaff to their cattle and chicken corns to chickens.

As I am a very fortunate village girl born to a bourgeois family I only have to feed chaff to my cattle and help my parents in hulling the rice. I insulate the preparation time within my busy schedule, reading articles and stories at least for an hour every day. But what really matters me was that whether this short period of reading will be enough for appearing the RCSE examination and to get through the juncture whether it will serve the whole purpose. I know as usual the simple noble teachers will get through what we call the attitude test. My seniors who have come into the view of B.Ed BCSE usually say “It’s unlike other civil service examination with similar question pattern with different remarks at the end. So far we have been trained as teachers as we do and we will” a reinforcing suggestion and a heedless suggestion too. I can now feel my heart filled with joy as I will be graduating with a qualification of Bachelors in education. As well I am bit worried to wake up from this qualification into a much professional Bachelor certificate holder. I am sure holding a graduate certificate isn’t a very hard choice however achieving the professional attitude to serve the TSAWASUM is the essence option. Probably a pessimistic thought to motivate myself.

On 6^th December RCSC made an announcement online regarding the schedule of the BCSE and the documents needed. By this time I think my friends too were very worried of the screening test. They started calling and messaging each other. Some arrived from their home town in Paro with intention to prepare their best for the BCSE. They reenacted their high school day’s diligence browsing the college wi-fi wireless, downloading the brain teasers, past BCSE questions and flipping the stale pile notes. Each day I visit my friends they at least have new information to share with me perhaps their kindness being a good friend. We discussed the need of each other’s ideas and assistance to make best use of the December month. Idealizing the great mind we discuss the great ideas which may seem childish to others nevertheless a lifelong decision for the simple teacher like us.

 Our friends tease in a serious way rephrasing our honorable director’s dialogue “I want you- the final years to keep a legacy but not of a materialistic rather think beyond that” a grin curved on everyone’s face. That time I remembered a moment when our director addressed this for the first time in the assembly and one of our friends say “Then let us keep an imaginary Thangka which would probably will not be seen but can be pictured with imagination” Normally internalizing the legacy our director was waiting for and ironically relating to the BCSE result. If we prepare it hard and appear the exam with no hindrance naturally it will come out with an excellent remark. Firstly, the merit will be counted on our grateful lectures who tirelessly worked for our success for about four years. Next to almighty and government then followed by ourselves who nocturnally worked hard to come over such excellence. This is how I think one makes useful usage of the time assigned for a particular preparation - Sharing the important skills, respecting each other’s weaknesses and holding hand in hand to build upon a nation’s sovereignty and prosperity.

After realizing the help and support we have given to each other I can now assure that set of 2012’s final year B.Ed pass outs can truly bestow our hearts and souls to serve the service at our best. Wittily, I wiped my teary eyes at this moment thinking of our friendship tie which has been four year long and the last exam we will be appearing altogether in a same campus at the same time with the same knowledge and wisdom shared among us.

Soon the fresh graduates with free wisdom and knowledge will be graduating from the Paro College and Samtse to start a new journey of our country.      

Every moment counts happiness

When we cry we never realize that we will get a good exercise of laugh when we look back to those crying moments. On 10^th October, first two periods of Career and Counseling session our tutor told us to work on the counseling role play in group. I am in second group. In each group we should have at least one topic – topic showing an unripe problem of the person for the role play. One member should act as a counselor and other three should be the clients. But don’t think that I am narrating the whole academic strategy to pinch on to the story. You know what happened – I just dodged the hidden corner to let slip what has come to pass. A beautiful memories left behind and a sorrowful wrapping behind those beautiful memories.

There was a glow of these memories flashing light to my past and laugh at present. I remembered those gone days of agony occurred almost about six months ago. Those gone days - the days had seemed like the worst among those counted days. When I think of dice rolling towards my days I have judged myself through my ignorance. I can get a good laughing exercise from these replayed plays. An illusionary romance came out from the exchange of unmeasured love. We use to chit and chat almost half our days. To describe him - he is a quixotic lover. Nothing more to say he had been good since his stay.

But poor me! I am no better then a flipping pages sounding harsher then the first flip. When I glimpse through those days and think about my counseling module I am bit unlucky to have this session module this semester. However, sometimes I think I have done a great job of an advisor to myself.

Story started falling for each other catching the illusory words. Touching each others heart. Moving the fire ball, flaming the fueled heart and calming the up roused flame. It has been an interesting exchange of love. It was wrapped with an un……..let me continue next time.

HumanValues

Human desire grows even if they were given chance to shortchange the whole world's benefit for individual wellness. It is alike drinking a sip of ocean water which continues to increase the amount to a cup, a bucket than a tank and an ocean. Similarly, emptying the ocean too will not be able to quench the thirst of the person. Hence, humans are the conduct less among the living beings. We utilize the major percent from the shared earth but we never give a second thought to our selfishness nor does we feel guilty for our own deed.
       
        While going through the newsletters, listening to views and speeches on shared responsibility, we can point out strong supportive words expressed on sustainability. But seeing the words and saying it isn't enough, seeking the reality with analysis is vital. For example, we people, in order to find outer happiness, we distract the global environment at large, use this raw to manufacture toxin- synthetic goods where billions of tons of toxins were used to manufacture it into smooth slippery shows. At the same time produces billions of tons of toxin pollution, we then distribute half of the toxin input goods to ourselves. What is our next preference?   We consume all the self distracting goods.

        Are satisfied with what we have consumed or brought so far? No, it wasn't enough and will never be even if the present available resources runs out.Because of our attached defilement, we look forward for new branded goods, exchanges the system within  snap of our finger to drive in a spacious center being a " latest fashionable consumer." Even to fix a simple electronic we ignore to mandate rather go for a suitable technology.

       Have you ever asked yourself, where does this exchanged wraps or scraps go? I never asked this question to myself . All the stuffs were dumped as an unwanted wastes, they were burned down to an ashes producing trillion tons, thousand times powerful than the toxin called dioxin.

       Now, what is your response if our sustainability remains as an idea or concept? If the earth turns to a handful of dusty sands? If we haven't thought of it is high time for us to ensure greater thinking ability to answer these questions. Everyone believed the world as a beautiful place after evolution of education.Did you know, from the early evolution of education till date those questions weren't answered explicitly. Education's benefit is though enormous I would say it stepped on to distractions and decentralization of the naturally existed  nature into an artificiality appearance. It has done more harm than a good.  What do you think?

       Our knowledge that we have acquired so far from the education is implicit. The knowledge we get to know were innate within us but we are unaware of it's existence. We are only aware of tip of an iceberg of the knowledge remaining submerged.From the Buddhism views basic human needs are roof over a head, cloth on our back and plateful rice for each meal. However, our humans today flows in the line where more than what we want is unnecessary, less than what we have is incomplete with our wants as immense.Therefore, analyze and check out for the fact. Individually try to know your own natural conduct. Question oneself, Am I being greedy to research the submerged iceberg or is it enough studying only the tip of an iceberg so our younger generations can have their say and discovery of the submerged berg.

       Take in account,we have not inherited this earth from our heritage, but we have borrowed it from our children... 

                                                                                                                        

Chechong: There is no substitute for hardwork

Chechong: There is no substitute for hardwork: There is no substitute for hard work I always remember a statement “there is no substitute for hard work” written in my cousin’s letter.

We weren't classmates nor are we school mate but your handwork inspired  me as well. Had you been my college mate I think I can look forward for your excellent example. Do keep your spirit awake as you have been doing so far.

Hard workers are always rewarded by the term itself HARD WORK.

Still I could hear you

It really matters me. Why don't you get out of my sight? Who propose you to be here around me? I tried ignoring you but your image last long etched in my mind. It would have been better if you were a good image. But it's not what I have described.
You are the stealer, the killer whom I never thought of. You lingers around, enduring me in acorn pain.
If something bothers you why don't you share. Why don't you be open to me?
I will not be able to resolve to drops hence will try to compensate with your suffering. I thought of writing to you but it's just an idea which remains a miracle to me.
Had I been with you, it would have been possible to lessen what you were suffering from. Now, it must have been the ideas behind the lovely memories.

Better, let me pray, any mistakes are  due entirely to my ignorance. let you be blessed by the almighty. I pray for your cheerfulness ahead.