Its Halloween!

Pumpkin curving; Source-Google images

The last three months of the year are highly looked forward to, and largely anticipated by many sections of people in the world. It could be attributed to having several holidays, festivals, (exams may be?) and above all the coming of the end of the year, or rather coming of the new year?!

Yesterday was the eve of Halloween, "an annual holiday observed on October 31, primarily in Canada, Ireland, the United States and the United Kingdom. It has roots in the Celtic festival of Samhain and the Christian holiday All Saints' Day, but is today largely a secular celebration" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halloween)

This is my fourth time observing this annual event. So yesterday too like last year, I with my two roommates went to Melbourne downtown to join the thousands of people in their best choice of costumes to mark the event. The roads leading to the downtown as normal were closed for traffic, and they were fenced from every entry point, so that people have to pay to get admittance. But problem is, even if you are willing to pay $10, the queue was just so long which didn't seem to be moving at all, which I later learnt that the space was very full and gate keepers are denying of entry until 12:00 am. We checked each and every entry point in a hope of finding the shorter queue, but in vain. Eventually though, around 12:15 am, we were allowed to actually enter for 'free'. We got in and met several friends out there. Some of them were in costumes imitating Lady Gaga, Doctors, Presidents, so on and on. At times, I laughed at very funny costumes, and sometimes got scared by the haunting masks. But my best was the imitation of Osama Bin Laden. I laughed a lot when I first spotted that, and felt little terrified too recollecting all those he had done to this world!

Above all, people were looking so excited about the event as they flock in groups at night clubs and parties. One significant thing that I noticed about this event was the pumpkin curving. Everybody buys pumpkin of various sizes for curving, and decorate their houses. Immediately, the thought came into mind that those farmers who grow pumpkins are doing good business, and making decent money here. In our country, we don't have any festivals like here which requires pumpkin in such quantity. In fact, people usually 'waste' pumpkin, and feed animals. I think if our government could collaborate and export pumpkins to America or nations observing such events, it would help bring our local economy up, and directly help lift the livelihood of our farmers. Lol, sounds cheesy, but its doable, i think.

Happy Halloween and a nice Holiday!!

"Khegpa" The Head Hunter (Edited Version-repost)

Ever since my friend Mr. Yeshi Dorji, a final year B Ed. (teacher trainee) at Samtse College of Education, under Royal University of Bhutan offered me to publish this story in his upcoming Book (seen at the right), I guess it has undergone a few times of editorial touches. So firstly I want to thank Mr. Yeshi for being kind enough in offering me a space in his book. Secondly, I would like to thank all reviewers for sparing their precious time and making my article readable and especially to the chief editor Mr. K. C. Jose, a lecturer of Samtse College for his valuable feedbacks and necessary changes.**

Bhutanese Traditional Kitchen: 'Arsang'- the pot for
making Ara resembles the one at the left.
Photo credit: The Bhutan Travel Guide

Bhutan has come a long way in terms of infrastructural development, and it has seen the state-of-the-art buildings mushrooming for the last few decades. It has, with no doubt, raised the living standard of the generally primitive people of the nation long been isolated high up in the Himalayas. Flipping through the pages of Bhutanese history, one will come to realize that Bhutan has indeed seen the institution of decentralized government, introduction of modern education, and linking with the outside world with the first ever motorable road built from border town of Phuntsholing to the capital city Thimphu. Accordingly, the ancient fortresses or dzongs were renovated and some newly built to the state-of-the-art buildings at the various strategic locations, and the modern high-tech bridges-the lifeline of the citizens living in the scattered villages were beneficially constructed much to their relief; thereby not requiring them to cross the deep gorges and rivers which were commuted with the help of ropes risking their lives for ages.

However, its citizens were highly apprehensive of the development activities taking place in the nation, despite knowing the great benefit it would bring in the long run to the nation as well as to their livelihoods. Not that they wanted to live in that poor condition for ever, nor for their love to remain as the human museum for the outside fast-developing world either. But they were actually heavily tormented by the fear of losing their heads to the mysterious head hunter called ‘Khegpa’. While the leaders of the family had to leave in order to execute of those development process elsewhere based on government directives, leaving behind their family members at home, sometimes under the care of their immediate neighbors. Those family members at home remained under constant threat of encountering that mysterious ‘khegpa’ at any time.

According to some die-hard believers of that mysterious ‘khegpa’, the ‘khegpa’ is believed to be a designated person, adorned with a black attire, equipped with a sharp knife and leather sack to stuff in with the decapitated of the victims, and wore gum-boots with its sole resembling to that of army-shoes. The families were always at the losing end because the ‘khegpas’ were considered to be ‘Licensed’ by the government, meaning they couldn’t sue even if they ever succeed in catching some ‘stupid’ khegpas. It was popularly believed that those mysterious hunters roam around the villages, and whoever falls into their trap would be beheaded. That head would be taken to the construction sites, where it will be buried under the foundation as a gesture of pleasing those deities believed to be residing at that location; thereby promising a smooth progress without any disruptions.

It is very surprising that even to these present days, such ‘legendary terror’ are widely spread, which is worse is that it is even ‘believed’ by the so called modernized citizens of the twenty first century Bhutan. As a matter of fact, very recently it even caught the attention of the social media, and stories of various versions hit the newsstands across the nation, prompting an intervention from the concerned authority. The media which had previously popularized the story of mysterious ‘khegpa’ nationwide, again at the later dates published a rather harsh announcement from the government ‘warning’ the general public to not openly talk about ‘khegpa’ and that whoever caught talking would be hand-cuffed and put behind the bar! I would say the government intervention was timely, and necessary as people were getting overly tortured by that ‘rumors’ and the students of the far flung villages who had to travel to their schools taking hours of time were the worst hit by that mysterious force of ‘khegpa’ rumors . Moreover, the announcement made the highly tensed citizens who had been told by their ancestors about the existent of ‘khegpa’ for generations, to ‘forcefully’ accept that such ‘khegpa’ never existed in reality.

But such powerful attempt by government to ‘demystify’ the notion of ‘khegpa’ just seemed to play a role of a radio-controller trying to lower the volume, as it was still widely conversed among a wide section of people who have believed for generations and couldn’t forget the nuisance caused by ‘khegpa’. The only difference this time was that it was talked rather ‘cautiously’ and ‘silently’ fearing the repercussions from the government. Now actually to the common village folks, it was just an added worry as the policemen played yet another form of ‘khegpa’, should I say ‘formal khegpa?’ This time, they are in hunt for those who wildfires the rumors, and again this time they will not just take the ‘head’ to be buried under the foundation, but the as whole to be put behind bars!

Every time I called my parents back at home, they sounded totally terrified by the khegpa story, and would caution me ‘not to travel by myself alone.” My attempts to demystify and deny the whole concept about ‘khegpa’ would fall in to their deaf ears. Then, seeing no hope of influencing, I gave in and assured them that I was always mindful of the ‘US khegpas’ and they should not be worried about me at all.

So now due to modernization, it is only reasonable to 'wrongly' convince the believers of ‘khegpa’ that while the notion of ‘khegpa’ cannot be eradicated from their memories. It will be only for their benefit that they be mindful of the khegpa’s modus operandi which might have become so sophisticated with the invention of mobile phones, motor roads, and fastest guns. Unless someone succeeds in providing us with a convincing reason behind such rumors, we can only speculate over this mysterious issue.

Such was the scenario over some six decades or so long ago when Memey Khandu Tshewang was a jolly little boy living in a village covered by thick forest. I even doubt if the electricity was ever invented then. So people, unlike now, had to heavily depend on fire from the oven to light the rooms and cook food. While parents collected firewood from the nearby jungle, little Khandu like any other children would be taking charge of younger ones, and do some basic household chores. Since people during those times were mostly sustained through working on their farmlands which were very labor intensive job. So in order to make them forget the body and joint pains, and to get a sound sleep, they would be consuming the locally brewed alcohol-‘Ara’ in huge quantity. It was (is still in some remote villages) their routine job for older members of the family to go in group to fetch the firewood everyday leaving behind those small kids at home.

It was during such routine job that little Khandu had to take care of his ‘head’ as well as the house all alone. Once his mother had mounted the complete three-layer set of pots (a cylindrical bigger outer one, an inner most small pot for collecting condensing droplets of ‘Ara’, Another a bowl placed on top to hold water which needs to be replaced once water becomes hot to regulate the temperature and give the cooling effect to alcoholic vapor. Thus turning it to droplets of Ara!), on the oven. She instructed her som to fuel it with constant ‘flow’ of fire (heat), and replace the water on time. The process has to be repeated thrice normally, and even more depending on the taste and strength of the alcohol that one prefers. Although he needed no further instructions from his mother for he was already good at handling the art of making ‘Ara’, his mother made it sure everything went well, and off she went to the jungle with then neighbors.

He didn’t worry much about handling the assigned task, but the moment his parents left for the jungle, he was haunted by the thought of the mysterious ‘khegpa’. Thus he made every effort to seal off his house’s windows, and doors securely from inside, and stationed himself in front of the oven lit with a big flame and a well-sharpened knife dangling from his waist-ever readied to strike the ‘khegpa’ if they ever appeared. Despite the fact that he was ‘well’ equipped to confront any danger, the fear of ‘khegpa’ never disappeared from his immature mind, and as he became more reminded of the possibility of appearing ‘khegpa’ from the wide-opened ceiling, he cautiously dragged himself closer and closer to the fire-the only companion left with him at that moment!

The combined effect of the heat from the fire, and endless thoughts of ‘khegpa’ drew out streams of sweats all over his tiny body. In the midst of such tiring moments triggered by the torturous thoughts, he dozed off heavily into a deep slumber lying along the oven. For some unknown period of time, little Khandu was in a paradise of his dream, totally free of ‘khegpas’. As the troubled mind would always do, his sleep was constantly being disrupted by mysterious day dreams, yet his tired body wouldn’t be able to respond well and easily surrender to the forceful sleep. That was until he suddenly saw a huge black figure standing right in front of him. He tried to clear his blurred vision in quest of figuring who it was. To his dreadful surprise, it was that mysterious ‘khegpa’ making a quiet yet well calculated move and seemingly trying to aim the knife at his neck! A horrified Khandu then kicked him forcefully as the ‘helpless’ khegpa collapsed with a loud ‘hissing’ noise. He felt down drenched into a pool of warm blood oozed out of the dead khegpa, and noticed the fire being extinguished! The over dramatic smoke which engulfed the entire room drove away his sleep, and as he tried regaining his sense from the ‘epic’ brawl with the khegpa, he jumped up and down victoriously!

He couldn’t imagine he had ‘actually’ brought down the supposedly ‘strong and well built’ khegpas, and he felt really excited to share with his parent during the dinner time when everybody settled down for a chat over heavy dosage of ‘Ara’. The very moment he thought about the drinks, he remembered about his ‘Ara’ that he was made an in-charge of by his mother. By then, he came to see the previously systematically mounted containers of his mom scattered all over the places, the entire house powdered by the ashes, and the fire extinguished by ‘Ara’. On careful examination, he found the cylindrical ‘khegpa’ container lying in a senseless mode wearing a deformed shape!

**This story was already published in this blog last month, but after having been offered to include in Mr. Yeshi's Book, I have submitted for proofreading, and editing several times, and this is the latest and final version.

Regrets Really Have no Solution?

Lisa Marie Presley and 'King of Pop' Michael Jackson.
Photo credit: Google

Last night, despite my busy schedule, I kind of felt like watching TV, so I grabbed the remote control and turned on the TV. Subsequently, I went to the channel 11 where NBA basketball game Miami Heat vs. Atlanta Hawks was broadcasted. I watched the first half of the game, and scrolled down the channel guide. There I bumped into the Oprah Winfrey Show featuring a very attractive looking woman and Oprah.

Immediately it caught my attention, not because she is very attractive and her eyes are very sexy, should I say?, but because their conversation sounded very emotional and 'real'. Although I had no idea about who that pretty woman is then, I glued myself to the TV, and waited for her name to appear on the screen. Within a moment and to my relief, a tag bearing the words 'Lisa Marie Presley' appeared just below that pretty woman. By the way, I had the 'google' search engine page already pulled up way before, and was waiting for that moment. So I quickly typed L I S A space M A R I E space P R E S L E Y, and entered! Within a fraction of seconds, whole bunch of information about Lisa Marie Presley popped up. Just to make sure, I was looking for the right person, I clicked on the images first and yes it was a right person. Then, not very surprisingly, I clicked a wikipedia link which took me to her page. I skimmed it through her personal life section, and there I found that she was a former wife of a legendary Pop Star and an International sensation Michael Jackson (late).

Equipped with that information, I proceeded watching the show and completely forgot the NBA game. I hated the commercial breaks as I wanted to hear their talks more and more; without a break! As everybody would expect, their central talk eventually boiled down to the unexpected death of Michael Jackson whose demise on the fateful day of June 25, 2009 'shocked' the entire world. I felt the every pain she was undergoing with each word she uttered about him. "...I have never felt that high in my life....when he (Michael) was himself and let me be with him, it was just something extraordinary...I can't even describe.....so so intoxicating......he was kind a drug intoxicating me...." (I am of course paraphrasing) was Marie's confession about her relationship with Michael.

However, she sounded very regretful about her actions towards him. She had to leave him to see some positive 'changes', and that she chose to stay cut off from him. The last time they talked was in 2005 when Michael asked if she was willing to reunite. To which she said '..its over"

The final episode of the late night talk show was yet the most emotionally challenging episode. She was talking about her regrets for having stayed out of Michael's life. "...Still I feel like I could have helped him had I kept constant touch with him, and at least say hi....he was under great depression...and he needed so much care....but i just stayed out of contact with him........ thats my greatest regret!.."

It was too late as by the time she realized she was not going to leave him alone, it was a conversation with the coffin in the funeral home!

A Phone got 'lost'?

After I have confirmed that I wouldn't be able to retrieve the phone, I declared it 'lost' and published a status on my Facebook page requesting friends to 'drop me your numbers in my inbox', but kept the story to myself. Heres how I 'lost' my phone three days ago.

It was a dinner time, and having gotten home quite exhausted from the school, I headed in laze to the kitchen, downstairs, to help myself. I stuffed in all the leftovers to a plate, almost built a mountain out of it, and put into the microwave and let it heated for about two minutes. Then, I gobbled them up in few minutes. Got the dishes done, wiped the oven, and responded to the natures call. I was in the restroom (toilet) and relieving quite naturally until I heard a splashing sound beneath me. When I looked down in a rather terrified mode in a quest to find what that splashing sound was, I saw my three year old Motorola phone drowned into the ocean of water and pee and seemingly very suffocated. I was as helpless as my phone!

My thought process was that I would retrieve it after I have flashed the toilet and after my pee gets flashed off. I didn't want to stick my hands into the toilet and fish it out from that highly urine-concentrated 'ocean'. Before I could process and gather all my limited tactics, my left hand had already gotten down and flashed the toilet-a decision I soon regretted, because my phone was nowhere to be found; it was gone! I remained there in the restroom quite defeated and helpless for a while. I didn't really have means to figure that out, but I was seriously worried that it might clog (or block) the toilet. All I could do at that point was to write a note: 'Don't flash, cell phone got stuck inside!" and stick onto it. And I equally cautioned my roommates to their hysterical laughs. I felt so embarrassed, to say the least.

The next day en-route to my college, I stopped by the residence office to let them know about the situation and to 'get it fixed'. But I was greeted with a note 'We will be back in 15 minutes' hung on the window. I couldn't wait for I had a class in 10 minutes. So I continued my journey. It was 4:15 pm when I got out of my last class, and immediately I hurried to the office again. I grabbed a 'complain form' and wrote all my 'complains' (lol) and waited until the blond lady behind the desk gestured to hand in my complain paper. Probably my handwriting was too good for her to read (lol) or she didn't want to address that issue with me, because she handed over to the guy named EZ ( the service guy) after skimming through a bit. EZ skimmed through it, and as expected, he began to laugh at me. I joined him, and we laughed for a while. He assured me that he would come the next day, and try his best to which I thanked him and left the office.

The next day when I came back from the school, I was again greeted with a yellow paper note: 'I tried to pump the water out from the toilet, but phone was not there. It is gone. But its not clogging the toilet, you can use the flash" left on the dinning table.

Oh thats good, I thought myself. Good? Yes, I wasn't worried about my lost cell phone; I was just worried that it might clog the toilet and flood all over the room and would stink. But that didn't happen, so thats what I meant by good. Actually I think the God might have realized that if he didn't intervene in between and somehow take away my old phone, I won't buy a new phone any time soon. But after having serviced me for that long, letting it die such a disgraceful death was very disturbing to me (lol). Again, I am not at all concerned about the phone, but what concerns me the most is my shear stupidity!

My Email Finds a place in the Fulbright Newsletter

One day when I was doing my Intensive English Course (rather called as English as a Second Language (ESL)) at an ELS center based in our university, I received an email asking me to submit a kind of report on how I was doing, and what my feelings about the Fulbright grant were. Having been only couple of months then, I felt so burdened and short of ideas to write. However, since I was mandated, I wrote a few paragraphs in a form of email, and sent it to them. Then it was forgotten completely until I received an email correspondence of the Fulbright Foreign Student Newsletter, Issue 10, published on July 2008. I scrolled down to check if there was any pictures, but I was surprised to find my article. Although, my article didn't address any issues or bear any professionalism, I thought it was cool. So I am reproducing it below:

EXPERIENCING A WHOLE NEW FULBRIGHT WORLD

by Pema Wangdi, 2007-2008, Bhutan

I am Pema Wangdi, a 2007-8 Fulbright grantee from Bhutan. Currently, I am studying at the Florida Institute of Technology in Melbourne, Florida.

To be frank, I didn't know that programs such as the Fulbright Program were offered by the U.S. Government, and I had never heard the word 'Fulbright' while I was in school. It was only after I took and received my Bhutan Higher Secondary Certificate Examinations (BHSCE) results and had my interview that I came to know about this program. Of course, our Bhutan Scholarship Division and Royal Civil Service Commission (RCSC) had explained several times what the program is, but I still couldn't entirely figure it out.

Pema Wangdi, 2007-2008, Bhutan

Since I have never ever traveled abroad before in my life, I was very worried about traveling and whom to interact with in such a developed part of the world! Several times I thought of cancelling my grant because of my fear of being in foreign countries. But to my surprise, everything was arranged to the fullest, and the only thing I had to do was to read the directions and follow accordingly.

The first thing I received was a welcome package. It had every valuable document inside and was of great importance. While reading the information, I noticed the Fulbright Terms and Conditions, the individual responsibilities, availability of enrichment seminar programs. We are given lots of opportunities to engage with fellow Fulbrighters from all different countries.

I have been here for a short time and my experiences are limited, but I would say that we are able to learn a lot and can return back to our countries full of new experiences, ideas, knowledge and views.

No Gain, No Pain!

Dhur Da Chham: Photographed from the cover of
Tshering Tashi's Book "
"Bold Bhutan Beckons"

It is a "No Gain, No Pain", not the famous saying "No pain, No gain"!

The article "Reluctant mask dancers" by reporter Gyempo Namgayl of Bhutan Observer brought to light perhaps the most itching issue about the difficulties being faced in the village community to conduct their annual or bi-annual Tshechu(s) - the festivals. It is no new thing, in fact the local leaders have been facing similar difficulties for years. Now children go to modern school, and nobody wants to stay back at village and become "Gomchen", hence no dancer.

As a village kid, I would be eagerly welcoming the Tshechu season, and I would be totally in a festive mood. I can vividly remember how I enjoyed those unique dances showcased by our monks and elderly people which now remained as a story of past. About five years ago, the last time I saw Tshebar Tshechu, it was not as exciting as it used to be like many years back because most of the dances are gone with the dying dancers. Nobody took keen interest to learn, and follow their suits. Now all one can see are few 'distorted' and copied versions performed by elderly folks! Quite a mercy. Equally disturbing is that there are no enough people to fulfill the requirement for each dance. Usually they are performed with less dancers than are actually required. See the problem? Of course, the situation can be attributed to seeing better future with modern education than being a dancer. Honestly speaking who would want to remain as a dancer for whole life? Will they be able to make a life as dancer? No, I don't think so. They are not RAPA employees, they don't get paid, and they don't get to perform in the five-star hotels and get paid for it. In short, they don't have needed facilities to remain as dancers. Who is responsible for that? The Government? Well, I could certainly see light on the hands of the Government which may facilitate and set aside some budget for each gewog, and ultimately could be used to pay those dancers.

I can already know what our government would say if we ever asked them for that favor, though. They would say that it is our community festival, and if we are not responsible for it, why would government be? But in this economic period of time, without income, it will be hard even to keep the flow between hand to mouth continuous. Almost everything in the market is becoming expensive day by day, and those lower sections are the worst hit. So it is only understandable why nobody wants to work for no benefit in return. Yet there are few who under the compulsion and 'threat' from the people in power are still putting their valuable efforts to make the Tshechus running. I salute them! I like our Government, which is founded with the development philosophy of Gross National Happiness, for stressing equally more on culture preservation. But if they are only funding and helping those tsechus conducted in the proximity of capital and only tourist-accessible destinations, there is seriously something lacking in our goal of culture preservation. That doesn't mean that our government is not doing anything, however. In fact, for the last few years, I have been reading the news and hearing from people that our monasteries are being renovated. I applaud them. But we still need those renovated monasteries to hold Tshechus, and for that matter need willing dancers to dance.

Without that, those smiles seen on our people's faces would eventually come to an end in the GNH land. Our community is known for being deeply rooted to their ancestry bonds, and they remain helpful to each other in good times as well as in bad times. That is one of the reasons behind those smiles on our faces. However, if village leaders, or any other leaders in that capacity, compel those 'reasonably-unwilling' dancers to dance, and worse enough slap them with monetary fines or punishment or are "boycotted by the local religious community indefinitely", what would happen in the long run? The harmony that has been prevailing in the community will be lost, and there will be many divided sections of sad people.

So it is high time, the government took some extra initiatives to address such issues, and together we can not only preserve our thriving cultures, but also bring back those which now remained lost. Nevertheless, for the name of preserving culture, I wouldn't want the masks danced to the tune of rock bands as reported to have performed in the very recent Miss Bhutan 2010 finale! Its a complete dilution of culture, and it wouldn't be desirable.

No More You in Me!

This poem was written when I was studying at Nangkor Higher Secondary School in 11 Science. It obviously shows how I was stuck by the thunderous love with the relationship ending in a lightening speed! To maintain the originality, I did no editing and proof-reading of any sort. So please bear with the grammatical errors, and reading it with light heart would help for I retain no hard feelings on her.

Oh! My Heart!

Never stoop for she is no worth than own life.

Here the death man lies...

What cares the beauties on them?

Reddened on his checks and smiling face white-washed

Yet, no special path for him to leave this world!

Than to follow the equal route does the poor fellows.

You the unfaithful,

And impious wench!

As if immortal and eternal you are.

Boundless are your talks propelled by

The influence of thy boneless tongue.

Talks! How to define it?

It makes man laugh, and cry too.

Thine truth-less talks spoken in dreamily

Were merciless insult to me.

But now you are against my wish.

Dream not I may seek your advice

And I am not in thirst of you.

My cry on you was infinite

The glance over you was systematic without rest.

The dream on you wasn't true instead a false illusion.

I lack the words capable of melting your heart

Nor my heart be made visible to you.

Eventually, my love in vain!

Now never guess today's wind was blown yesterday,

It is merely false with no proof.

So is my bent on you.

I can't die of you nor sacrifice a meal

You hated me but I don't care you.

You be such could grasp the stars

Fulfilled with category of beauties, be a Queen

I gave up you.

Never tends to mingle your laugh with my tears,

I am hornless and tail too.

Let you hate, pretend blind to me

But I will be indeed Pema!!

"Parents and teachers teach children to always speak the truth. Not only is this unrealistic, it is also hypocritical."

The author Mr. Gyalpo Drukpa is currently undergoing LLB in NALSAR University, Hydarbad, India. He is the second topper of the Bhutan Higher Secondary Education Certificate (BHSEC) 2005. He studied at Nangkor Higher Secondary School, under Pema Gatshel district from 2004-2005. This essay, which was asked during annual examination, was written in the year 2004 when he was studying in 11 Arts. He maintains a blog, and should you be interested, follow him at http://www.gyelpothungshingp.blogspot.com/


Yes, indeed! Yes. To advice and instigate others to speak the truth has become almost like fashion. It is very unrealistic and to great extent hypocritical. In order to make other's mind bow, first and foremost thing, ones mind should be arrow. Before telling others, one should be perfect. But parents and teachers instigate students and children to speak the truth verbally. They, themselves are not perfect in this case. Our parents and our teachers teach the fatherhood of God without themselves acting the brotherhood of man.
Most of the parents of this advanced world are known evil. They are much more undignified and bounded by low personality. They are the one who spoke false before the society. They might have done many unwholesome deeds but how pathetic is it to find that, having themselves spoiled, they advise children to always speak the truth? Children has been staying with his/her parents by birth itself and thus he is bound to copy what his/her parents are doing. If parents are morally disciplined, the child would be as so. But if parents are morally ruined, it is definite and sure that child will be ruined similarly. A very pretty lie may be told by parents before his/her children. Suppose, if children wanted and demanded their parents to bring them a new trouser when they were leaving to somewhere, but on returning, he may convince his children that he has forgotten but not brought intentionally. Thus, children are the best copiers and they would copy it and next time the children will practice it. He or she will inherit the character of parents.
Similarly, teachers in the school are the parents of children. Taking the responsibilities of parents, they always advices students to tell the truth and even penalize them for having told lies. This is really hypocrisy. Teachers seem dignified in the school premises, but outside they are acting like barbarians. They tell the lie if it is needed and acts in violent manner if it is needed. Teachers are the lender of last resort of students, thus, if having themselves undisciplined, how can his students listen to them? First thing, he should act what he says. Teacher should be an epitome to students and children so that they may act and shape their future.
For instance, some teachers take leave from school leaving his students in vain, intentionally pretending that there are some genuine reasons after feeling bored in teaching. But in fact, they are just going for loitering somewhere else like an undignified man. Also in some cases, teachers are found lying and boasting in the subject matters. They act as if they know all neglecting to research further. Thus, they misguides and mishandles the human brain. Some teachers wait for bribe from students for some matters. They take partiality to some students. They themselves saying that to take partial is sin, yet they themselves are involving in unwholesome deeds.
Thus, parents and teachers of modern world may say anything from mouth. It is very easy to say than to be done. They convinces children and students to say this and that but it is just paradox. Hence, the instigation of parents and teachers to speak truth is not only unrealistic but hypocritical to great deal. Coincidence in words and actions may be found in rare cases but majority of the cases are paradoxical and hypocritical.

Photo credit to Google Images.

A Hopeless Hope!

"Is it a dream?" No, it surely happened...!
Five months had swiftly rushed out and the day had come for the students to leave school for vacation. The day was pleasantly sunny, yet it was a horrible day in fact! Leythro was having a refreshment of cool drinks in the bar located just next to the school, with Rigdhen Namgyal, one of his closest friends and the sponsor of the drinks. When everybody was on their way rushing toward their respective villages, why he chose to hang out over drinks carried some hidden meanings, only to his knowledge.
Although he was physically present with friends, and seemingly felt refreshed with drinks, mentally he was lost in a great worry. "How can I meet her? Does she expect me to be waiting here?...?" He pondered over it again and again, yet not even hinted a slightest discomfort about friends' endless thought-provoking talks. He just wished that he wasn't with them in the first place. He had all the rights to cut short the conversation, and proceed to pursue his dream, but he didn't want to disappoint them unnecessarily. He hardly contributed any talks fearing that it would just prolong his stay there, all he did was giving a forced nod without any idea about the talks. At that moment, all he cared about was getting out of the bar, and stealing a really special moment with his girl. He could feel his heart beat racing as he saw the wall clock ticked past 2 pm.
Without even knowing how their talks ended, he was by then rushing out of the bar toward the school gate. Hastily he gazed at the several groups of students, some chatting, and some entering the shops, in a hope of catching a glance of his 'beloved' girl. She was, however, nowhere to be found around! He couldn't trust his eyes as he scrutinized even more closely and throughly into a group of approaching girls. Much to his relief, he caught sight of few familiar faces, among them, Choden, the closest friend of his 'dearest' one. As if she had already comprehended the sadness he wore on his face, Choden, rushed towards Leythro inquiring with a surprised look "Yala, why didn't you go see off Sonam? Did you meet her already?..." He couldn't believe what he just heard as he went speechless (wordless?). "Aiee......" He cursed himself for being in the bar, and not coming out on time. If only the curse could remedy the broken heart, he had made it enough. He could hardly see anybody else as he struggled to clear his blurred vision with the help of his long sleeved yellow T-shirt. He felt so defeated and crushed at that moment!
Even though, his heart was so pregnant with many things to share his now 'gone' girl, the pain that gave him in expressing those unspoken words was beyond he could carry. He couldn't converse well with his friends, who were much happier unlike him, as if his tongue got locked. Seeing his poor condition in that odd gathering, a helpless Choden urged him to follow Sonam immediately, convincing him that she might not have gone that far, and that he could catch her within no time. But Leythro declined and by then he had completely given up following her.
Pretending alright, he wished them a safe journey, and headed back to the dormitory only to be welcomed by his lone bed lying in an emptied room. The scene in his room made him cry even louder as he quickly rolled his beddings, and carried to a designated storage room. His earlier plan of spending a night there, and proceeding on the following day to his village saw a sudden change. He didn't feel like staying there after having failed to achieve his mission of the day.
Considering all those circumstances, he thought it would be wiser and better to leave that day itself. He couldn't trust himself as to what might happened in the name of crazy love. With an empty backpack, he, a lone residue at the school, rushed toward his village which would require him minimum of five hours of walking uphill. Time to time, he looked and cried sighting his girl's village! He wished there was no such thing as meeting which entails departing someday, and even worse such a departure. He knew how easy it was to develop a feeling of love during such a short span of time at the school, but how tough it was to stay departed. Long after having left that school, he still remembers how torturous that moment was, and every time he remembers, it deprives him of a joyous moment he would be having. Feeling so hopeless about the whole thing of meeting and departing, he accepted it as the part of the life, and particularly his ill-fate. Certainly he doesn't want anybody else in this world to put up with such a miserable life, and for that he prays to the Triple Gem to bless each and everyone with happy life and sound relationship, and particularly to his 'beloved lost' one to have a happy and healthy life. Yet he still wonders "How dare she leave me alone in this world after knowing how much I love her!"

P.S. It is a simi-fictional story, originally written in 2005.