Remembering Bygone Days II.

James Barrie said, "God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December." This post contains some reminiscences of my class mates, some of the interesting things I want to remember. I hope my friends won't mind for writing about them here. Its because I find it interesting. 

Lopen Zhip Tshoel (Research).

Phub Dorji was the Lopen Zhip Tshoel of our class. He got this name because during discussions and question answer sessions he would always say that he did some research and found out something else to support his answer. Actually he really does that in real. He chases every lecturer and enquires a lot if he had doubts which many of us don’t dare to do. For this reason, we despise him sometimes for making the class bit longer especially when we wanted free periods. But his persistence helps us a lot at the end of the semester. A true lover and a very sincere talented guy.

Lopen Pey Tam (Quotes)

We can, with 100% expect him to utter a quote and relate it to whatever he speaks. His talks become interesting with this unique style of his. I would always wonder if he prepares what he’s going to speak every day in advance. His conversation includes poetry and often indirect speeches. One would not understand him unless we ponder on what he said. He will Praise us amazingly and finally leave us most of us snubbed. Popularly Known as Janey because he calls everyone Janey and finally he got the name back to himself. An artistic and creative guy.

Many interesting Lopens remaining. Will continue in next post.

                                                                

Remembering Bygone Days I.

 The past four years were the most indelible moments of my life. When I first joined college in 2009, four years sounded like eternity. I would often wonder, When will the training period end? What am I going to do in such a long time? Or am I gonna go out of here a little older and a little taller? (hehe) Now it’s already 2013 and I am out of there. Looking back now and answering the questions I used to ask myself, those four years passed me without even a warning notice. I learned many things and I am loaded with lots of unforgettable carefree memories. The only sad thing is I am still the same little Dechen both in height and size, haha.

The days were as tough as drinking a cup of tea. Others say “not as easy as drinking a cup of tea” but I say TOUGH because drinking a cup of tea to me is not an easy task. One will end up burning one’s mouth if one didn’t check if it’s hot, or the tea would not be tasty if it cooled too much. We need to know when and how to drink the tea exactly if we were to experience the best taste of the tea. Likewise, we were required to know the right time to do every task and needed to balance between studies and enjoyment.

My class photo.

I had my own share of Tea to drink in various flavor. Sometimes very hot, sometimes cold and at times I ended up spilling. Nevertheless, those tinsy little moments made my life enjoyable, challenging, funny and ineffaceable. All of us joined superbly young, active, innocent and curious. By the passage of time we became aged, lazy and a little egoistic but ardent and confident. Although we were busy with our own studies and assignments we never missed chances to enjoy. We are not the best beings but everyone of us have something good to look at and I can confidently say that we are a fresh batch of dynamic young teachers impatient to join our education system.

The Sweet Six.

From left- Tshering Lham, Phub Gyem,Choki Wangmo, Chado Om,
Yangka  Dem and myself.

We were only six of us. Being less in number gave us more challenges and difficulties although our boys used to treat us heavenly. COMPULSORY is the case in everything. We have to be there in every activity. The same face, six of us in dance, in sports, in SUPW and in everything. We would always envy other classes with more numbers of girls. Even so, we took it as an opportunity and tried to attend and do everything possible like others. In other fields we were quite fine but when it came to Basket Ball and Volley Ball….ahhh…..not to mention the confusions and misunderstandings. From six, all five of us were almost nil in sports but giving up would mean a fine of certain amount. So, we dragged our feet ineptly and played to lose every time. I wished to at least serve a service once in volley ball but I completed 4 years just filling in the space like an effigy. I would never extend myself to touch the ball; in fact even the ball didn’t extend towards me.haha However, all those moments remain deep-seated in our minds becoming sweet sweet memories now. I won’t regret for not enjoying my College life!

                                                                                                to be continued................

The Circle of Karma - Truly Bhutanese!

This book was on my shelf since 2006. I never attempted to read it. I always preferred to read novels of Daniel Steel, Sidney Sheldon, Agatha Christie, Nicholas Sparks and etc. Finally I read it and it was a nice change. This novel is first novel by a women to come out of the Himalayan Kingdom of Bhutan. Unlike those novels written in western context, this novel based on a Bhutanese setting represents various aspects of rich Bhutanese culture and pattern.

Photo from Google.

It gives a clear and tough picture of the kind of life a Bhutanese village woman lives. The importance of Karma or one’s actions, whether good or bad is clearly portrayed. This novel gives the message that each human being will experience the consequence of his/her Karma in one or other way, in this birth itself. There is no escape from that. God has created each of us in this way.

The author, Kunzang Choden, in this novel tells the story of Tsomo, a young Bhutanese woman who embarks on the difficult and lonely journey of life. She lives in her village with her father, mother, sister and brothers. By the description of the culture and looking at some of the local phrases mentioned, the place seems to be in the eastern part of Bhutan (Bumthang).

She was denied the freedom to learn, read and write though she is very much interested because she is a girl. She had to accept this painfully. Tsomo learns how to become a good housewife from her mother until her mother dies when she turns fifteen. Her father marries again but the thoughts of her mother still lingers. So, Tsomo decides to go to Trongsa (a holy place) to light butter lamps for her mother’s first death anniversary. That is the beginning of Tsomo’s travel. Tsomo’s travels, which begin after her mother's death, take her away from her family, and leads her across Bhutan and into India.

On the way to Trongsa she falls in love with Wangchen who was already married and had children. Tsomo’s happiness of her married life is only short lived when she gets pregnant but she delivers a dead baby. After that, her belly becomes permanently swollen and she suffers that illness for a long time. Her husband falls in love with her younger sister and she was disregarded and unnoticed. Being hurt by the betrayal, Tsomo leaves her house. She travels within Bhutan and as far as India and Nepal. On her journey she meets many people who were experiencing the results of their karma like herself. She learns a lot from her journeys.

One more man comes in her life as her partner, but that marriage also fails. The man treates her like a slave and exploits her. At last, he too leaves her for a young beautiful girl, with whom he turns to be a perfect husband, completely opposite from what he was like when he was with Tsomo. Tsomo undergoes the circle of Karma repeatedly in her life. All these bitter experiences help her to develop into a new person and woman. She understands herself in her long journey and meets with many Buddhist monks. Finally, she becomes a nun and through her spiritual life, she gets permanent peace and happiness. Reading this novel was a completely different experience to me. Everything in the book, the scenes, the setting, the events, everything was Bhutanese. I look forward to read more Bhutanese novels.