THE DAYS are very hot with no rain falling though everybody is expecting a soothing shower at any hour of the day. The cool breeze penetrating through the shimmering tree leaves in the afternoon is indeed a kind of solace to cool off the day and dry up the sweats from our body.

By the end of the tiring yet fulfilling day of teaching and learning I always find a hope of grey gold dawn everytime I watch the sunset which leaves behind the beautiful paint kissing the western horizon. Sometimes the clouds wear purple mixed with a shade of grey. Most of the time the sunset leaves behind crimson kissing the western mountains.

As the sun dips far beyond the west leaving behind what I say inspiring paints of clouds, Kagtong cools down and everybody is out refreshing and gulping in evening air. I join my friends to volleyball and football with the villagers while the housewives watch the game. The games entertain us and we entertain the viewers. This is harmony of living together in a close-knit society.

His Art will Live on Vibrating the Pulse of Time

                                     His art will not die with him.

                                     It will live on vibrating the pulse of time

                                     It will resonate for long time

                                     Even after he is gone.

Indeed he is bridging a gap between a time crawled in and time yet to crawl or one can put this way—he is connecting the generation long gone and generation germinating. He is answering the most urgent call, the call of preserving, propagating, and leveraging the tradition and culture which are at the edge of being blown away by the wind of change and modernization.

He is Ap Pema Gyelpo hailing from Kheng Dewacheling under Ngangla Gewog in Zhemgang. He is 42 years old. He is married to Sangay Tsedon from Saremgang under the same gewog he is from. Their future is assured with the growing up of their three children—two daughter and a son--under the tenderness of their nurture and care.

Prior to his joining as Kagtong BHU caretaker in 1999, he has served as Drongyul Menpa(village clinical incharge).  Before that he had been a cowboy since childhood. It is during this time his love for songs took root in him often singing songs while grazing cattle in the heart of nature. Then as the tradition has it in the community, he served his three years tenure as bridegroom service in the bride’s home. In Kagtong and its vicinity there exist a tradition that the would be husband has to serve three years in bride’s home to qualify as an actual husband. During these three years the groom would be under strict vigilance of the bride’s parents. Then if the groom’s service is up to the expectation of the bride’sparents, the marriage ceremony takes place.

Throughout Ap Pema’s life singing and dancing has played pivotal role in leading a lively life. Today he is very interested in dancing and singing traditional songs and dances. In the recess of doing all these, he says that he is preserving and promoting the culture which is at the verge of eroding when all sorts of modern high-pitched songs take toll on the people’s life today. And yes he is very interested to let the folksongs live on forever connecting generations. For this very reason he willingly accepted his membership in Parent Teacher Association (PTA) this year. PTA is a recent association formed in the school this year. Indeed PTA is quite new scenario in our country. Under the PTA programme, parents come to school and teach the children during weekends and when some teachers are on leave. The children learn skills their parents had such as carpentry, crafts, stories, dances and songs. From Ap Pema the children learn folk songs and dances. The school PTA coordinator Mr Yeshi Wangdi invites Ap Pema some weekends to teach the children. When he is available he turns up happily and teaches the children for about 2-3 hours. When ask about his teaching strategies he says, “First I let the children learn the lyrics, then tune and finally the dancing steps.” The interest in children to learn the dances fuels Ap Pema’s zeal to contribute more for the growth of traditional values in children. As a kick off he taught the children the song, ‘chi li chi li bja chi li….’ The most popular song in their locality, perhaps in Kheng region. This song was presented during centenary celebration in 2008. During that time he too was among the dancer and he felt lucky to be the part of that history. Ap Pema is, at times, helped by his brother Sangay Kencho who is a good dancer and song lover too.

In spite of all the success in teaching the young children Ap Pema faces some problems. He says, “My one challenge in teaching the children is whether I would be able to deliver the original lyrics and tunes which our parents lived by.” Thus the need to deliver authentic and undiluted songs calls Ap Pema to do some research and rehearse the songs before delivering the lesson. For this matter he contacts the older folks and his counterparts to help him make sure the song he would be teaching bears its original words and tunes. In this regard, he comments that there is urgent need to document all the folk songs and dances before the songs get diluted in this fast changing world. Apart from his physical teaching Ap Pema doesn’t want to misguide the children. This is one beauty he possess that he wants to retain the originality of folk songs and dances for all times to come.

Regarding the inspiration behind his interest in traditional songs and dances, he isn’t sure of any concrete inspiration he had drawn to sing and dance. Perhaps it might be the community he was brought up that pushed him to sing and dance. Ap Pema as a boy was always filled with folk songs and dances by the village folks during the village festivals and gatherings. He unknowingly picked up the dancing steps and singing skills by participating in the dances during festivals such as choepala, losars and thruebubs in his village.

His ability to read and write dzongkha fueled his interest in traditional songs and dances. He learned most of the songs by listening to radio and ten writing them on scrap paper. All the songs he could sing today are learned himself, nobody taught him. He wasn’t send to school by his parents. He was a cowboy whole through his boyhood days. Yet his interest in reading and writing dzongkha pushed him to learn reading and writing skills from his friends who went to school. His writing and reading skills become more refined after attending NFE for two years in Kagtong CPS. Today he could do some simple rituals, read religious scripts and write simple dzongkha. This literary base makes some difference in his life that he could at least document some folk songs and dances and teach the children who will pass down to their succeeding generations. The advent of electronic gadgets such as mobile, Ap Pema feels as a supplement in restoring, documenting and passing down folk songs to future generation.

Ap Pema’s interest is tilted more toward folk songs especially Zhungdra which has become less priority to almost all modern song lovers. He shares that he likes the mind liberating words the zhungdra is rich with. Modern songs, he says, is more of love affairs with more words such as ‘I love you, do you love me’; ‘cant live without you’….. than religious values and liberation.

Ap Pema idolizes Jigme Drukpa as his favourite singer.

When I asked some villagers about Ap Pema, they responded in unison that Ap Pema is very interesting man who likes to entertain others during festivals. Some shared that Ap Pema would journey by singing songs through the woods. Singing in harmony with nature I would say. Yes he does this. In my one encounter with him on my way to Panbang he was trudging through the path singing traditional songs. I was deeply inspired to see him singing and enjoying the journey.

While zooming down to his own children’s interest in folk songs and dances, he responds, “my two elder daughters shows some interest and they could sing and dance fairly well, but my son is not interested.” He adds that he would leave the liberty for them to learn the folk songs themselves.

All in all Ap Pema’s art of singing and dancing folk songs which he inherited from the community he was brought up will vibrate long after he is gone as is evident that the children will pass down to their children. Ap Pema deserves loud applause for his act of connecting past, present and future generation through his known art of singing and dancing folk songs.

Like Ap Pema there are many unsung heroes in the remote hamlet who deeply care our culture and traditions. The school through PTA is recognizing some talented older folks and have them teach their art to the children during weekends and when some teachers are on leave.  Some of them I celebrate by writing about them when I encounter them on my dairy tiltled my Kagtong Times and blog www.kingapenjorshares.blogspot.com. There is a need to recognize such old folks rich in traditional values and celebrate their arts as one act to keep their art alive throughout the generation. The helvatas is doing its best share to preserve and leverage our nation’s cultural diversity through photography and documentations. Even when the international bodies care what our nation is rich in why can’t we as a bona fide citizen share our pie to keep what we are rich in. let our traditional values live for long times. Let’s pledge not to let our sacred and traditional values be blown by the wind of change.

Another Triumph

Champion again.

They are champion again.

As Spain lifts EURO 2012 Trophy

With 4-0 win over Italy

The EURO 2012 fever has finally subsided. And now the football fanatics could sleep better with peace, ease, glory, loss.... in their mind. As the time passes by the memories will fade till the next EURO.

This year i was lucky to watch at least 2012EURO although I could not watch the entire matches owing the remoteness of the place where I work.

The triumph,

         The sparks,

                 The laurels,

                         The glory

Over spain.

"Spain make history with Euro Triumph.Spain became the first team to win three straight on Sunday when they thumped Italy 4-0 in the final of EURO 2012" espnstar.com

Some Winged Ones

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The Clouds of Human Activities Might Have Polluted the Dzong's Congenial Atmosphere

The evening of 24^th June, 2012 would enter as one of the darkest evenings in Bhutan’s history. Dark clouds might have drifted across the minds of people when the news of the Wangdiphodrang Dzong battling fire and ultimately being razed to ground reached their ears. The news had been the real stone in the hearts of Shar Dargay people as the dzong had been their guardian of culture and tradition apart from all the administrative and other civil works they had to undergo in the dzong.

     The deadly news was telecasted live that evening, but here owing to the lack of modern amenities, we could not watch the battle our magnificent dzong was braving. We heard the news via phone calls and audio radio.

     The moment I heard that tragic news I thought that the fire might have incurred massive loss of everything, everything noble and rare. Forget about monetary and property loss the nation has to bear. Think of this- how much did the fire had reduced our nation’s spiritual and cultural wealth housed in that dzong into ashes? Will we be able to restore the same allure of the dzong and its profundity of cultural and spiritual values? For the evidence of being one of the  oldest  dzong of more than 400 years old built by great Zhabdrung, naturally the dzong holds special seat of cultural and spiritual values. Now all those sacred and rare wealth had vanished into air as sots and only ashes remained.

     As always His majesty the present king and His Majesty the forth Druk Gyalpo, some ministers and some other senior officials visited the site. To our great relief, the main nangten (relic) was rescued and handed over to the Draktshang. The acting Prime Minister Yeshey Zimba aired a speech on BBSC explaining the incident and consoling the people. Somewhere in his speech, his Excellency shared that the disaster like this would alert the government and the people to take preventive measures to safeguard the other dzongs dotting the country’landsndscape.

    Yes to our consolation, the dzong would be rebuilt and it has to be so as to restore the vanished wealth of spiritual and cultural values. The people need to reclaim the smiles of having majestic dzong as their mother of culture and tradition.

     In my mind the disaster such as this is happening all because of dehumanizing human activities. As the development takes heavy toll across the nation, all our sacred spiritual sites are polluted and thus the spiritual blessings vanish.

      Wangdiphodrang Dzong was perched on an elephant like hill with a panoramic view of Punatshangchu. Of late human activities are mushrooming in the vicinity of the dzong. The mega Punatshangchu Project inspiried vast concrete jungles taking roots in the valley of Shar and Lobesa. With concrete jungle come all sort of dehumanizing human activities. The ear-splitting explosives, honking automobiles, the cloud of dusts, people’s eroding values might have turned deaf ear to the call of the dzong’s congenial atmosphere. The dzongs these days are no longer free of human-made cries and stimulus.

     Thus the deadly fire might have emerged just to set alarm in the minds of people to limit the human furry around the place which deserves highest quality peace and tranquility or the sacredness of the dzong could no longer tolerate the limitless pollution it had been braving.  

      We have to relay go to reconsider the facts of the dzongs privacy from human activities before everything is late. Let the dzongs be free of human pollution. Let the be as sacred as before and be a fountain of our cultural and spiritual values especially in this era of change and development.

A Journey That Was

IN LIFE IT IS QUITE STRANGE FOR US TO WITNESS the unexpected things rolling out right in front of us. It is very difficult to drive into the depth of what the life has designed for us. We never are sure of what might happen in future despite our indomitable will of optimism.

     And it is same with the sort of journey we take in our life. We never could for sure tell how our journey would go by especially if we have to depend on others for the long journey. We cannot foretell in what sort of vehicle we would board and who do we accompany during the course of our journey.

     One morning early at around 7 am I was near the Gelephu Check Post to catch a vehicle moving to Panbang. The trucks, buses and small cars were lined up waiting for the Indian SSB armies to escort them. Some drivers and passengers are out into the tea stall savoring momos, puris and fried rice, and sipping tea while the police on duty were registering the vehicles moving out of the town. I strolled up and down the lined vehicles looking for the one heading to Panbang. I even requested the police to check whether there was any vehicle moving to Panbang. To my dismay, out of about scores of vehicles lined up, there wasn’t any moving to the place of my destination. I was disappointed initially but consoled myself considering the state of the place Panbang was.

     Soon it was 8 am and an army blew the whistle and the engines of the vehicles grated and in line the vehicles surged forward leaving behind some patches of cloudy smokes through their silencer pipes.

     As I was about to turn back to the town with the hope to journey the next day, the police on duty suggested me to hold on and wait for some hours that there might be few vehicles after the escort time. This gave me some ray of hope and I took my luggage near the check post office and waited there. Before that our former ADEO Choeda currently transferred as Principal of Buli MSS informed that the Dungkhag Accountant was there in the town. I was little hopeful that I would be able to catch one vehicle and would successfully reach Panbang.

     With the flash of cars and labourers crisscrossing the border in front of my eyes I waited patiently with my rear resting on a log kept for the people to rest. About 45 minutes past and still no vehicles arrived that I was beginning to lose patience. Just then a motor bike arrived and the biker came towards the counter to do entry of his bike. When I stood behind him to check where he would be heading, he registered his bike stating that it was moving to Panbang. I thought of grabbing the opportunity right there but it was not quite comfortable for me to be on his bike. He had his backpack on his back and some stuffs hung on a side of his bike. I wasn’t alone either. I had a backpack and a small luggage bag. He was willing to offer me a lift despite the condition of the bike and stuffs it had to carry. I informed him about the accountant and he called him but the former wasn’t sure of his journey.

     Thinking for a while he suggested me to go till Chakpaiguri and comforted me that from there I would catch a vehicle coming from Phuntsholing. Picking up my stuffs I agreed and greatly regarded his kindness. Upon introduction he was a RNR staff at Panbang Dungkhag and knows some of my colleagues in Kagtong. Through the bumpy road backed by potholes we journeyed. He was very frank that he shared everything about himself. He was up for the registration to opt for further studies. I wished him luck in his endeavour. The journey was refreshing and breathtaking while plying through the well paved road and journey through the unpaved road was just contrary worsened with the clouds of dust when we had to follow the heavy vehicles.

     In the moment of chatting and sharing, we reached Chakpaiguri where almost all Bhutanses vehicles stop for lunch. We parked the bike in shade and waited for some time to let the vehicles coming from Phuntsholing to ply in. we had our lunch in the Hotel Himalaya. My new friend ordered special curry of spiced eel. In addition there were various savories of salads and dhal and vegetables. We savoured to the fullest of our delight.

     In the meantime while we were out resting and chatting, we encountered a driver known to my friend introduced us to his malik who was heading here at Panbang. The driver requested a lift on our behalf and the contactor was happy to have one as his friend. 

     From Chakpaiguri I had a comfortable drive in Japanese Prado. The contactor was up for his visit to his contact of construction at Panbang.

 Upon enquiry about each other, he asked, ‘are you from Paro?’

 “Yes from Jabana”

“your accent talks all.”

”Most of the time I travel alone. Today I’m happy to have you as my friend”

“Me too especially for the comfortable ride.”

     The journey went on with sharing about each other in the midst of fast speeding trucks and cars.

     Away from the furry pulse of Barbeta town, we stopped at Bansbari checkpost for registration and fees. As I stepped out of the car I was mesmerized with rows of marigold and dahlia in great line in the garden in front of the checkpost. I turned back to the car and took the camera to capture the beautiful pictures. The partial rays of sun filtering through the dust laden clouds glowed the flowers. They were awesome.

    From there the journey was filled with the talks about the animals available in the Manas Park. “We often encounter elephants, buffalos, languors, and some deer apart from some birds darting through,” the contactor shared the animals he had sighted with location and time, “the best time to travel is in the morning and evening if we wish to see more animals”

     The mild sun was on and the road went through the jungle arched with tall tees. The tall grasses were cut and burnt that we could get some clear pictures of the roadsides. The orange flower bearing trees were highlights amidst the leave less tall trees. Further there were also some purple flowers blossoming on the some trees alongside the road.

     Reaching Mathanguri, the majestic Manas Chuu was clear and there was a boat lying rest at the bank of the river. Few people were sailing in a boat while elephants were resting in the bushes few miles away from the river bank.

    Indian tourists cramped in the cars were returning to their home. Some tourists were getting full of their excursion with clear view of everything from the car rooftops.

    Finally the Panbang greeted me with its new shape. The town structure has changed with a road deliberately making its way down to the river just below some main shops here. New buildings were built and new people arrived in. I bid bye to the contractor with loads of thanks.

After all every journey is worth cherishing despite its hurdles.

My June 2 Diary

2/ 6 /12 10:57 am

The social forestry day

The planting day

To revive the lost vibrancy of the nature

The children are performing the cultural items to mark the day. Early in the morning they had done a tree plantation in and around the school surrounding. Prior to the plantation, they went in search of tree saplings. Then they went to their respective houses for plantation. The places were wet and dewy inspired by the last nights and this morning’s rain. With perfect smiles worn on their faces, the children were enjoying their plantations.  And the smile would multiply when their plants turn up into beautiful tree.

    In the morning assembly, the TOD brought out a well researched and resourceful speech on tree plantation throwing some light on the state of our nature and biodiversity in the past and present coupled with the impact of the present action on the state of future forest cover worldwide. In his speech, sir Tshering informed the gathering that the government is deeply concerned about the forest coverage realizing the impact the forest has on the lives of every individual. Sir Tshering also traced on how people in the ancient times lived in harmony with the nature. Further he laced his speech with some light on the dehumanizing human behaviour as a key factor in diminishing the forest cover worldwide. “A tree takes around 30 years to grow fully and on contrary, the people take not even 30 minutes to fell the tree with power chained saw.” He added.

       During the assembly, there was a heavy shower of rain coming from the south. We heard it showering on the leaves of the trees and slowly the mist climbed down towards us. Yes it came and stopped after a minute or two. The shower didn’t deter our assembly. Then the children got to listen to Lopen Kezang regarding the significance and auspiciousness of the lord Buddha’s par nirvana which falls on the coming Monday.

     In my own little way to mark the day apart from my share in the activities the children had, I’m extremely happy to come up with the following two poems:

Plant a tree

And it will pay you back

It will shelter you

It will give you air, cool and clean

When your Air Conditioning(AC) or fan fails on hot, torrid and sticky days

The birds will come and gather on the boughs

And sing you a melodious lullaby

The fall of the leaves and the change of the colours

The flowers in the spring and the fruits in the autumn

Are the added delight

The beauty and bounty

Your plant you plant today will

Repay you and enchant you

The other one:

Plant a tree and save a snow on the mountains

In snow everything is there

A river for the mega-hydro projects

Fresh water for your food

You name it

Everything resides in that creamy white

Everything evens your cosmetics that glows you and raises your self-esteem.

The Moment

The wind is blowing
and leaves are rustling
the dust rising
and sweet wrappers flying by

My Last Sunday Diary

6/5/2012    12:12 pm   Sunday

Last night I slept in my friend Gonor’s house. I was giving him a company as he is still braving his injured ankle. It was a beautiful night. The full noon night. As I was heading to his house, the moon approached, kissing the mountain to the south east. The luminous light slowly spread lighting the landscape all over. The kerosene lamp flickered in the kitchen of the Tshongpa as they had their dinner. The Tshongpa was happy and drunk. The sky was clear with some stars twinkling. In the place like this where the rain is heavy especially during the late spring and the summer, the moon washed night is too stunning to let pass. No winds too. Everything was at rest. The farmers were at rest after the day’s work at the river side in a scorching sun. The prayer flags motion less and so were the trees.

In the midst of all the freedom the moon lit night offered, we had a nice night with peaceful sleep. For dinner we had fiddle heads as the curry. Yesterday afternoon, when I went out to fetch some manures and stakes for my garden, I collected the fiddle heads too. These days when vegetables are in scanty, anything from the nature is best delicacy indeed. The tongpa and a movie were added joy the beautiful night blessed us.

This morning when I came back to my house, a couple of bulbuls on the meadow and a little squirrel on the tree in front of my friends house greeted me. “Tortola (squirrel) on the tree!” I blurted out to Gonor. He was fetching  water in a jug for the offering. “Yes it always comes to nibble on the fruits on that tree.” He responded. “Beautiful indeed!” I said and made my way to the school.

The sun was out. The grasses were glistening. A pair of spotted dove took a great flight from the school tap when I neared them. Before that on the orange tree near the Agriculture Extension Office, I caught an intimate glimpse of a lone spotted dove which took a fantastic flight when I passed under the tree. The sparrows were in full chirp.

I entered my room, washed my face and did my morning offerings and prayers. I dedicated my today’s offerings, prayers and good deeds to the old cat which I found dead yesterday afternoon. I don’t know when it breathed its last. I found it missing since a couple of days ago. The cat spent most of her time with me this year. She slept on my bed with my cat Kaka. She was Kaka’s mother. Indeed longest living cat in Kagtong she had been. This year, due to old age she could not keep the beauty of her being. She became feeble to the extent of falling down when she coughed. I treated her well and so did the neighbors. She had been a timely reminder to me that beauty and youthfulness cannot live forever. Further she had been an  appropriate personification of our phase of life as old people. In the first place, the people could no longer pet her as she lost her charm of being cute. Whenever I stroked her, I could feel the skeleton. Worse still, her own blood, my cat Kaka refused to sleep with her and lick her when I put them together at the side of my bed when I sleep. All these personified me how we would become worthless in the society and would be abandoned by our loved ones, let alone by the others.

In the great heat, her dead body was covered with a swarm of flies. It was rotting. A little dog was taking a bite. I chased the dog. The dog ran away with a limb in its mouth. Then I tied its limb with a thread and dragged it down towards the river side and buried it in the bushes. Her dead body might have benefitted some insects especially those flies which followed me as I was dragging the body. In my mind, I wished a peaceful journey to her after her death.

She had lived a life.

Mothered countless kittens

Became a pet to somebody

Fulfilled her obligations

Finally disowned by all and

Ended up into an eternal rest.

Now I have mourned over five cats that died in my house and its surrounding. Last year, it had been a heart bleeding experience when I had to throw away the dead bodies of the three kittens of my cat Kaka consecutively. Then in 2010 summer I had to throw away a little kitten I found dead on my porch. Yesterday was that old cat’s turn.

Sometimes I feel happy and great that all the beings come to my rescue when they discovered that they were burden to others. Yes I treat all well to the best of my hearts capacity. Now I have a dog filled with scabies which is not liked by all in this vicinity. So long as I’m alive and well, I hope I can do my best to help others in my own humble ways.

Now forget about the cat’s tale. Few minutes back, some children requested me to screen them a movie. I couldn’t as I was browsing some internal new on bbcnews.com. When I got out some minutes later, I couldn’t find them. I was surprised to spot me sketched with a chalk on a trunk of the orange tree near my hut. It might be sketched by the children for not letting them the opportunity to watch a movie. I have seen them strolling under that tree. I laughed silently.

As of now the sky is clear with bright sun on. It’s really hot. The sweats come out even in the room doing nothing. The gentle wind blowing is soothing to some extent. It’s warm wind caressing us because of sun. “The two days of sun has made the land dry.’ Remarked the wife of Mr Prakash.

Except last night, for the week, Kagtong experienced sunny day and rainy day. 

IN THE MIDST OF ALL THESE

In the midst of all these

The days are becoming hotter

The meadows are turning greener

The trees in orange orchards

With its evergreen leaves are bearing small buds

The farmers are done with their sowing

They’re drunk and happy every evening

The oxen are at rest now

They wander the jungle for fresh chew of grasses

The sun climbs up the hill

The landscape sparkles

At noon the river shimmers

With the radiance of sunlight

The birds’ songs are in full rhythm

The butterflies flutter from flowers to flowers

And the multihued orchids adorn the trees

The trees clothe new leaves on their bough

In the midst of all these

Life refines

Life redefines

Life rejuvinates

That Was Archery Match in Kagtong

31/3/12 and 1/4/12 saw an archery match between three villages in Kagtong community—Ngangla Trong, Emalagang and Kagtong. The Kagtong team was represented by the school staff as the people in the village were too busy to spare the days. The people felt the gaining popularity of Yangphel style archery match as three teams raced for the victory. It was a kind of friendly match to bond and revive the relationships between the villages. Each team consisted of six players. Whichever team could roll up 15 points first was betted to take home Nu 1200 from each team. This made the match fiercely competitive.

The days were fine with bright sun on throughout the days. The silent Kagtong was in the rhythm of cheers and laughter. The match broke the humdrum of the people’s life. As the match rolled on, the people gathered to witness the match. The second day of the match saw more people with even Assam based laboureers’ turn up for the match.

The pouring in of ‘Tshogchang’ by the village women revived the allure of the village’s age old tradition. Sitting by the side of the path, the village women served the players with due respect and smile. There were tea and juice for those who didn’t take any of the alcoholic drinks.

By midday in the second day, the competition became fierce with all teams running neck to neck. The shouts, howls and cheers became rampant, each team welcoming the teams hit and swaying away the opponents. The scorching sun blushed red on every players face. Ultimately the days were for Emalagang with 4 set win out of five possible sets during two days of archery match. The final set of the match was a consolation win for the staffs and Ngangla Trong team ednded up not taking home even a single set win.

After all it wasn’t winning or losing the match, it was a weaving of laughter, cheers and dances amongst the people. The smiles were shared and bond grew stronger. All team came together for campfire in the evening of the last day match celebrating the victory together. All was winner at last.

There weren’t dances alongside the match as in most of the matches where men play and women dance. The organizers didn’t arrange nor did the village women turn up for the dance. To this the village Tshogpa remarked that it was due to lack of young girls in the village and they were all studying in the high schools. I responded that young girls weren’t only those who could qualify to dance. I said that the older women could do far better than the girls especially in folk dances which are at the verge of being lost in this fast modernizing world.  Though the women didn’t turn up for dance during the match, few of them came for evening dance during the campfire. As the fire crackled high, the cheers, laughter, jumps and leaps along with talks weaved through the evening. All most all was drunk and happy when the programme went off with a simple dinner.

  

Beyond entertainment and get together, the archery match counted a lot in reviving our age old tradition of playing archery. The match was played with all players playing on traditional bows and arrows. Few players had imported arrows and bow strings. Such moment of playing on traditional bow was too beautiful to let go. Soon the traditional bows would forever remain over the hearths collecting dusts and soot when everyone find it fashionable to own compound bows. To this day compound bows haven’t entered the archery ranges of Kagtong community. I don’t know when will imported bows find its place on the alters of Kagtong folks.

One thing I loved, adored and appreciated apart from all the refreshment the game gave me, was a wealth of cultural values imbued in an old man from Ngangla. He is Duba Wangchuk. He is popular for the talent he has in singing and dancing traditional songs and dances. Last year in my one encounter with him at Ngangla Trong he said that even after three days and nights of Choepala, the local festival his songs wouldn’t finish. His sons and daughters are equally rich in songs and dances. The school is happy that this family has agreed to assist school in teaching traditional songs and dances when they are free. This family is one future of traditional songs in this community.

It wasn’t possible for most of us to play the match with thick woolen gho on the sunny day. All the players made the gho half except that old man. Whole through the match Ap Duba was in full national dress. His gho was, indeed, thicker than all the players, yet he found cool in that dress while others couldn’t brave heat with even light ghos. This is one beauty I cherished during the match.

Further, after the relief of the match, when all gathered for the evening dances, Ap Duba made it compulsory for all the players to dance in full gho. He remarked that the traditional dances were rich in meanings and should be danced in full Bhutanese attire as a token to receive fortunes and blessings from the folk songs and dances. At one point he even questioned one of the teachers to who danced in paint and shirt during the evening gathering. The person like this is really a rare species and deserves due respect and reverence. Last year when all the traditional folk dancers gathered in the capital, he wasn’t recognized by anybody. There is an urgent need to document the cultural values he is imbued with before it’s too late.

All in all, it was really a rejuvenating experience of sharing smiles and laughter with little sense of competition hidden among the players. The texture of all the cheers and laughter would go a long way in as one finest moment to cherish and reflect on. The allure of traditional values which are still rich slants a ray of hope that traditional values would enchant the people for some more years, if not forever.

The Great Hornbill Gliding Over and More

This morning as I head for the school I saw a hornbill gliding over the school. It was a great hornbill and the great sight my eyes met. I watched the flight till it got lost in the woods at the edge of the village. Without flapping its wings it glided swiftly like airplane over us. The children were doing their morning cleaning work. The people hardly observe the flight of the birds. It’s like a sunset and sunrise to them. For the love of the creatures under threat, I give some part of my time to them. One day when human selfishness crawls in I would miss the sight of these wonderful creatures. Backed by the rich vegetations the flights and sights of hornbills of all species are quite common. Now with motor road piercing the nature and forest losing inch by inch to human farming, the sustainability of hornbills is under question. The time will record.

    

The sky was sheepish as if to announce us that it would cry and let its tears pour ceaselessly any moment. The assembly was held. The rain didn’t fall. Fine. The red bougainvilleas climbing up the fishtail palm in front of the academic block was fresh as always. The mist hung around the trees slowly drifted up and slowly the showers came when we stood for the national anthem. The anthem was sung with light showers on. But it lasted for few minutes only. By around 10:00 am the sun rays filtered through the thin clouds and slowly Kagtong brightened up. The children of PP in unison shouted, “Today it’s sunny.” They didn’t need to sing, “Rain, rain go away…” for the brief appearance the sun has made.

During the recess, we had a tea and biscuit by our colleague Mr Yeshi wangdi celebrating his daughter Yeshi Wangmo’s birthday. In the assembly, the children were given chocolates. The children in unison wished, “Happy Birthday to you, Yeshi wangmo…”

These days the red whiskered bulbuls are in abundance. They all gather in the trees even when the rain is in full rhythm. They sit right on the twigs to pick up brown seed and fresh flowers. They dart from tree to tree. The presence on the trees made the trees to lose their purple flowers petal by petal. The meadows under these trees are strewn with purple flowers. It’s awesome!

Making some teaching aids for tomorrow, I made my way to the playgrounds to watch children play. Mr Tshering Dorji, our colleague was coaching the children. I watched them play and practice the ball. The sun was dipping far beyond the clouds inspiring grey-gold sunset. Some villagers and labourers too enjoyed the children play. We let both boys and girls play together. After a brief coaching, Mr Tshering made the children to wage the match boys vs girls with a bet of frog jump for losers. The girls here can equate boys in volleyball. To everyone’s surprise, the girls won and the boys were made to frog jump in the court. It was, indeed, great fun. The tiring mind was finally refreshed.

Then the sky began to darken. The children were sent to their homes. Teachers and labourers began playing football as usual for the evening refreshment. I resigned to my residence. I’m still not recovered with my Knee injury I had about fortnights ago in my tussle with a villagers one evening while playing the football. I’m looking forward to take part by next week with great anticipation that my knee will be all right.

The rain is on still now. It’s drumming hard on my corrugated roofs. There are flashes of lightening and rumble of the thunder. The light loving insects comes in hovers around the tube light. Right now my cat Kaka snatched a green praying mantis and munched it right in front of my eyes. Lord! I couldn’t do anything to save it. So often the insects visiting my room fall as prey to my cats.

 I think I need to sleep to the rhythm of the rain outside and silent within. Goodnight Kagtong.

In the Mist of Time

The milky sky
The warm sunshine
The still bamboos and trees
The birds' twitter
The swallow's flight
The children reading on the lawn
The teacher monitoring
The house wives gossiping
The labourers labouring
IN THE MIST OF TIME

I Blog to Share What Meets my Senses

As days roll by, the circuit of our life expands with life transporting us to different places arched with different skies, peopled with different people, clothed with multi-hued vegetations and inhabited with different animals. The range of our life widens when we share wonderful experiences of our life because each one of us is blessed with individual yet marvelous experiences which are too stunning to let go. We give a pie of our life to them—other people, animals, birds, trees, flowers, insects……. In return, they give a part of their life to us. For instance for the part of life we’ve given to a tree, in return we’re blessed with cool shade on hot torrid day. We grow and we coin a new meaning of our life as our experience keeps widening.

The wonderful experiences are, at times, too stunning to let go and we feel happy when our unique moments are shared. Together we grow and together we succeed. We can share our experiences to our family, friends and the people coming in our life. But it’s impossible for us to have a life haloed with parents’ warmth and circled with friends’ cheers forever. Like we have our life’s obligations and responsibilities to fulfill, our friends have theirs.

Of course the era of fast growing ICT and digital world never leave us lonely. The world really has become small with digital evolution. The mode of sharing and growing together has become much easier. We are now clicks distance from each other. We are always connected. Kudos! Digital and ICT globe! We don’t want anybody to turn and talk to, we can click to social networking sites and voice our voice or dial a number on our mobile phones to keep connected….

Thus the feelings and emotions towards the stimulus surrounding us can be shared easily with immediate feedbacks and responses from our friends and well known people.

Therefore, if I’m too lazy, indeed reluctant to accept the change kissing my feet, I’ll be missing all the wonderful blessings of life breezing through the journey of my life. Thus I write what meets my senses and share with others. I feel light when I share my life experiences in their truest plot with others especially to those who do not get tired of listening to me. When I don’t have anybody to turn and talk to, I just take a pen and leaf the pages of my diary or notebook to share the voice of my heart. I feel relieved when I’ve shared something worth sharing with others.

Nowadays social networking serves as our diary to celebrate and share our experiences. I’ve a dream of creating a blog long time back but my dream blog didn’t materialize due to various factors. Back in the college we are accessible to better internet facilities, but my intersest in ICT world refused to move beyond functional ICT. I was more tilted towards reading with the core thought that I would miss the rich knowledge stacked on the shelves once I would be transported to some strange place where books would not be that resourceful and in abundance as in the college. I took ICT for granted that naturally I would be bounced back in one way or other to it in this fast modernizing world.

Reaching here in Kagtong in 2010 as a fresh teacher, the place was handicapped with modern facilities let alone mobile and internet facilities. The electronic gadgets we had remained in the corners of our room collecting dust. The laptops were confined to watching movies.. Since last year in July Kagtong has been connected with the world beyond the vicinity of kagtong with Bmobile waves breezing through the hemlets of Kagtong community. Then I was hopeful to materialize my dream blog and yes my dream got materialized with a subscription of Bmobile post paid data card last winter and I’m happy that I’m travelling with the changes kissing my feet.

Since 2005 after completion of class 12, I’ve been alone and lonely most of the time. The aloneness and loneniness pushed me into reading and then slowly writing and sharing my inner voices laced with myriad experiences with my diary with some entries going to media houses for publication. Back in the college, my diary titled AS DAYS ROLL BY had been an obedient listener of mine. Here in Kagtong I share everything with my diary named MY KAGTONG TIMES. From today onwards I would like to share some of my experiences including some of creative writings in www.kingapenjorshares.blogspot.com. Indeed my KAGTONG TIMES will remain as my sole companion to share my Kagtong Tales in its quintessential nature and allure.