Sunday, July 31, 2022

Nyekor To Ura

Lately I, along with four other friends, had a memorable excursion at Ura. This is my first pilgrimage to Ura although I frequently visited the place for some good reasons. 

View from Shamzur. 

It was 24th July, Sunday. Mani Lama, as is well known from his previous incarnation with the name, planned to go Kunzangdrak but it got canceled. This made me feel bad about the situation. I'm such kind of a person who will have to clear the bump on my road map. So I asked Lama if we could go Ura for a day's pilgrimage to which he impulsively replied, "sure, where do you think we should go?" I pondered, "wherever Lama has visited," and looked at other friend as we were trying to find the best places. "Longchenpa's place in Ura." I added as it has been in my bucket lists ever since I came to read and know more about the omniscient one. 

We waited for the next day. 

I set alarm at 3:30 am but woke up at 5:00 am. Quite funny, right? We had to cook lunch and get ready with everything within a short time as I knew in my instinct that Lama was waiting for us. Luckily we were able to do quicker than we expected. After having light breakfast our journey kicked off before seven via old national highway. 

It was a cloudy day. We were ready with the weapon to shield ourselves from the rain. Without stopping at any point we straight away went to Shamzur which is about two hours walk from the road point, for slow walker, not for otherwise people. It took us at least one hour, if not additional fifteen minutes, at a normal speed. 

Unfortunately we couldn't get the proper explanation of the Lhakhang since care-taker was not there. Thanks to three jewels, at least we got opportunity to get inside with the help of pilgrims who have taken hardship to get the key from a care-taker after walking down the village then going back climbing up towards the Lhakhang. 

Nobody explained us anything. If not for Lama we might have returned without hearing anything about that sacred historical structure. The monastery has a statute of Guru Rinpoche as the main nangten constructed as an antidote during those days. According to the narration it was learnt that the villagers didn't help previous Wangthang Lama so previous Mani Lama played main role in the construction which was later consecrated by the Wangthang Rinpoche himself. 

I knew nothing more than that. Out of curiosity we went behind the temple and saw beautiful place of Shingkhar down the valley. We took photo in order to keep memories. 

Our next destiny was Dechen Choling, one of the eight lings of Longchenpa. 

After visiting there we visited a temple which is few minutes walk that has statute of a Shakyamuni Buddha and its believed as wish-fulfiling. Whoever prays here are blessed with whatever they want. I too had wished my share. 

We were hungry. No place was suitable for us to sit and munch on our food. After driving 10km we found a place where we could rest and have hefty lunch. We had begun our meal when rain started drenching us despite having umbrellas. 

Nevertheless it was an adventure in disguise for all of us. We simply loved everything that has happened. 

Some of the photos. 

Waste being dumped inside the wood. 

Rest.

Shingkhar Dechen Choling Seen.

Breath Taking View.

Lunch Spoiler: heavy rain. 


Saturday, July 30, 2022

I Received Maize of Trashi Yangtse

I've a fond memories of growing up eating maize since my childhood days. When I received corn (as a chhom) on 25th July from a friend, sent from his home, it reminded me of my days when I would really hate kharang. But there was hardly any options if you've to fill your tummy. Nevertheless what I'm is what I've eaten therefore I'm grateful for those nourishment I received organically unlike the pesticides mixed and the processed foods that we get nowadays. 

Roasted maize. 
I had no idea other than roasting maize in a fire until a friend did this on his induction cooktop. It tasted good but not as much as it would have been from the fire. 

Boiling maize. 
I tried boiling but it tasted not so good. 


Given a chance I would eat roasted one. 

Sunday, July 3, 2022

The Pain of Losing



Dear Ata,

I just wanted to say goodbye once more.

I don’t know how to say this. I—I—I’m... I don’t know how to begin. Still, I’m pretending to be okay. The days have never been the same since you left us. I hope and pray that you’re fine wherever your fate has taken you. As I’m writing this, with eyes full of tears, I’m trying to control my breath.

Alas! Maybe this is part of what life is all about.

I was receiving teachings on Chandrakirti’s Madhyamaka when I heard the news that you were admitted to the hospital. This treatise is an exercise in non-assertion, meaning it doesn’t allow us to fall into the traps of existence, non-existence, both, or neither. (For those unfamiliar with Madhyamaka and logic-epistemology, you’ll first need to understand and become well-versed in the conventional terms of these broad subjects, so I won’t elaborate further.) I was among 27 others for the session, but my mind was out of the class. I couldn’t concentrate, thinking about you. When this profound dharma, labeled the king of all treatises, couldn’t console me, I thought nothing could help me at that point in time. I know some of you may not like clichés, but as mentioned, this is life, and you don’t have the right to steer it, so I kept moving according to what life had to offer. Adjustment—that’s what I’ve read in some books and applied out of necessity in such a situation.

I still remember the day I went to Thimphu to attend to my sick brother. It was June 22, 2021. My friend was driving the car, my in-law was in the back seat, and I was next to the driver, playing music. Of course, we seemed completely okay externally, but only God knows what was going on deep inside us. Personally, I was going through mixed feelings. No sooner did we reach Thimphu than my in-law received a call and told me that a patient was admitted to the ICU (Intensive Care Unit). My only wish at that moment was to see my brother for one last time while he was still breathing. For that to happen, I had to wait until the next day; we spent the night at a cousin sister’s house.

We couldn’t tell our mom about the ICU, fearing she might have to go through additional suffering as she was halfway through her 8-day quarantine at one of the hotels in Gelephu. Anyway, she told us later that she knew from one of her relatives but chose to remain silent. She also narrated to us how quarantine had affected common people during emergencies.

Out of many quarantine-related stories, I found two particularly touching. These incidents actually boosted my mother’s energy, or so she told me. There was a middle-aged man from Laya undergoing the same quarantine procedures. If you remember, due to landslides and flash floods caused by heavy rainfall, 10 Layaps lost their lives. The man lost his family members in that tragic incident and was bound to reach them and attend the funeral rites, but he couldn’t.

Another man from Tsirang expected to reach home during his father’s cremation, but 8 days was too long. He told my mother and other people that everything would be finished by the time he managed to reach home.

"My son is still alive," my mother thought and made herself stronger amid the toughest times of her life.

The next day, I took a COVID test to get permission to enter the hospital. Later in the afternoon, I exchanged places with my second elder brother, who had stayed for more than a month as the attendant of our sick brother. I entered the ICU without asking anyone and was ushered near the door by the eldest in-law. However, one of the ladies, who later became a bit closer as she was a relative of my friend, requested my in-law to arrange my bedding in their line since they respected my red robe. By the way, I felt a little uncomfortable sleeping between the women as I had taken a vow of celibacy. Nevertheless, I didn’t feel guilty because situational factors forced me. I didn’t have a choice, as I believed I was a guest for the first few nights. After two days, I found a place in the corner where I met an acquaintance who was an IT officer in one of the ministries. Later, we would share our views on Buddhism. I felt sad for him, too, as he lost his mom, who had been bedridden for more than a year and was supported by a ventilator. As promised, he texted me two months later about his mother’s demise.

In the ICU, attendants are allowed to visit patients after every 3 hours, but not exceeding five times a day. It starts at 5:30 a.m. and ends at 10 p.m. All you have to do is feed and clean the patient.

When I visited the ICU for the first time, I was nervous and fearful at the same time. I wasn’t sure how to face someone close to me, but I made myself strong enough because I believe in the mantra of expecting the unexpected. When I entered the corridor with dozens of attendants, I saw them walking barefoot after keeping their slippers on a rack. I did the same. I could hear the noise of machines as if they were pumping something, followed by other beeping sounds. A few moments later, I saw the patients, unconsciously lying in their beds. I couldn’t recognize my brother at first. When I did, he wasn’t my brother. Sorry, but that’s honestly how I felt. I slowly walked towards him. I couldn’t handle it. I looked at my fellow attendants, and I could only feel my trembling feet, watching them clean and do other related tasks. Once again, I carefully looked at my brother in disbelief. I could feel the pain and relate to him. My eyes filled with tears, and I couldn’t greet him properly. So, I slipped out of the room and sent my in-law in my place. For the next 10 days, I visited him once a day, and sometimes I didn’t go at all. It felt like the machines had started to irritate my ears. Those noises have the power to make you sick even if you’re fit.

During my stay in the hospital, I spent my time reciting prayers for the sick. I visited wards, although the hospital had restrictions, tried interacting with some patients, and gave them blessed strings (sungkey) and jinlab. I learned different levels of life by seeing such patients.

I saw both failures and success!

On July 4, 2021, my brother left us forever. For the first time in my life, I witnessed something that would strike every one of us one day or another. Prior to this, I had seen people mourning; I had heard about the passing of somebody’s parents, friends, sibling, teacher, student, boss, nephew, uncle, aunty, cousin, loving friend, and so on. I never thought this would come upon us so soon. Habitual tendencies had obscured the truth, and I was lost in them.

My brother, those mathematics and computer skills I learned from you have become obsolete by now, but the biggest teaching I’ll value throughout my life is the impermanence of this human body that I learned from you.

I can sum up everything about life like what Robert Frost said: it goes on. It is painful to leave someone close, but it is quite another thing when our close one leaves us. Every time I think of you, I pray for you; I pray for all beings.

In the absence of death, I would have never known the essence of birth.

Sunday, June 5, 2022

Received Reading Transmission (Lung) of The Collected Writings of Rongzompa

I prostate before my Guru!

Rongzom Chokyi Zangpo 
Pic: Wikipedia 

To some of you who do not know, Reading Transmission involves thorough reading of scripture by a teacher to his student(s.) It also means giving authority to practitioners where they can learn and contemplate. This method of transmission from teacher to student(s) is one of the important and a uniqueness of Buddhist. It shouldn't be broken in between by any means. To understand precisely, it is like a clean spring water that will nourish unless it gets contaminated somewhere. So it is equally important to keep lineage clean and transmission passed on from generation to generation.

Some of you might be wondering who was Rongzom Chokyi Zangpo. I won't be able to justify His welfare for the sentient beings. It is beyond sky and the earth as we usually measure the limitless things. Rongzompa was one of the highly accomplished practitioners and was also an 'omniscient' writer like Longchenpa and Ju Mipham. I can only think that He was Buddha in another form. Although I've a little knowledge about Him I'm still a proud student after receiving transmission of His writings. 

I've a reason why I must be proud. Yes proud. Proud can have wrong connotations too but here it doesn't apply. This is because to receive such blessings it requires five perfect conditions: teacher, teaching, assembly, place, and time. 

1. Teacher

Kyabje Shechen Rabjam Rinpoche is a grandson of Kyabje Dorje Chhang Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. Is also 7th throne holder of Shechen Monstery. I will not elaborate more than this. 

2. Teaching

Rongzom's Collected Writings are as precious as jewels. 

3. Assembly 

Kyabje Namkhai Nyingpo Rinpoche, truelkus, khenpos, lay monks and lay practitioners received transmission. 

4. Place

Lhodrak Kharchu Monastery is not ordinary place. It is Zangdopelri and there's no reason why I should hesitate to say this. 

5. Time

Every 4th month is Auspicious. Good deeds will multiply. It is a perfect time to receive such teachings. 

So I must be happy and grateful for this rare opportunity in life. 

Hundreds of devoutees gathered to receive this precious and rare opportunity while another hundreds received through online streamlining around the world. Kyabje Shechen Rabjam Rinpoche talked in English and Tibetan to make online recipients comfortable. He even assured to freely distribute Rongzom's works to those interested devotees. 

Thank you my Guru for making this possible! 


Sunday, February 6, 2022

I enjoyed watching Walking To School

Walking To School 
Pic: Google

I prostate before my Root Guru! 

Art is one thing that will always remain close but in a respectable manner in my heart. I am always fascinated by any kind of artistic style although I do not possess one. Yet I've sang enough songs in the bathroom and watched best movies and have appreciated that deserved. It has been quite a long-time that I've lost much interest into watching movies and listening to songs. But thanks to electricity I could focus on an old documentary movie Walking to School. Yesterday we didn't have electricity for whole day and unfortunately I forgot to charge my cellphone. So what I did was, transferred some old movies to my old phone—that would serve any purpose but call—and started watching movies repeatedly to kill boredom. Not to my surprise there was this movie which I downloaded but never got opportunity to watch. I was excited to watch 2013 documentary movie and in between have to check battery life since old phones usually doesn't last long. I tried to use economically because I'll have to last till the electricity comes. 

The film Walking to School introduces a little girl, who later happens to be a Naxiang, with a rope, smilingly walking towards her house. At her home is mother and an old bedridden granny along with her little brother Wawa. Her mother ends her day attending meals to granny and other household chores. While Wawa is seven years old boy having a keen interest to go school with his older sister their mother doesn't allow. She expects her husband—their father—to return from town and help Wawa cross the river. 

Actually this takes place in a Nujiang River in Yunnan Province, China. Based on a true story.

Everyday Naxiang goes to school after crossing a river with the help of overhead cable. Wawa accompany her till the cable and in the evening too when his sister return from school. He stay at home wondering about school life at the other side of a river but he'll have to get mother's permission to cross. 

One day Wawa cross the river but nobody knows except new teacher, Ms. Nie. 

Still from the movie. Wawa crossing on his own. 

This movie is something I can relate myself. The casts are like us, I mean Bhutanese, and the landscapes are like ours. Only thing I might have missed is their dialect. But I could feel their emotions as it is expressed in a common language—expressions. Of course I used subtitles to understand throughout the film. 

Walking to school has never been easy for many of us and I can relate myself to this particular situation. Although I didn't cross the river and walked scary path, I have walked down the valley for more than hours and climbed up the hills in the evening. It used to be a thick jungle and I will have to wait till my seniors classes gets over. I'll have to compete my little feet to walk like theirs otherwise I'll be left far behind. During summer's my gho would be drenched from the lower part due to heavy dew. There would be another hurdles for timid like us—bully—every morning elder boys would snatch our cash. They'll beat us if we failed anytime. Fearing them nobody complained to parents let alone teachers. 

I am thankful to blessings I've received that I spent only a year in that situation.

From the film, I loved everything but I am touched deeply by the loving relationship between a brother and a sister. They love eachother while still having huge respect as a sibling. One morning Wawa calls his sister and asks her to sit down. When she did, he cleans his sister's feet with his clothes, he says, everyone in the school wears a new shoe and that his sister shall wear a pair too. So he puts her shoe.

Still from the movie. Wawa cleaning his sister's feet.

Spoilers alert. In a tragic incident Naxiang falls down into the river while returning home from school. Wawa is left alone. Hence he do not enjoy anyone's company. Ms. Nie teach him at home but she finds him less interested. So she reminds him about his interests into drawing. He nods his head and takes her where he had drawn. It was a spine-chilling moment to see his drawing. 

Wawa's drawing

Six months later the village receives a bridge. 

There are some great messages conveyed through movies and it has helped in a greater ways. This movie shows how people suffer in rural area and how some of their voices are heard lately. There's no one we can blame. This is how everything rolls in samsara. 


Sunday, January 30, 2022

Social Media Is Bad?

Pic: Google

I prostate before my Root Teacher! 

I started using Facebook twelve years ago and I'm thankful to the team for connecting people across the globe. It has eased our way in a different ways. To put it in short, Facebook has made all of us like a single community. 

Recently YouTube did a tremendous job and now there are millions of content creators influencing through their vlogging life. Simple and yet effective solution to our boredom? Anybody can make a vlog for that you do not have to own expensive cameras. I have personally witnessed a poor family getting rich, now they're helping not only their families but others as well.

On the other hand there are dark sides to what most of us embraces with our open arm’s. When bad out weighs good it is a matter of concern for all of us. Today there are increasing rate of youths suffering from mental disorder, increasing suicides, polarization, rape case etc., that has a reason to blame social media. Massachusetts Institute of Technology has found that fake news are six times faster than the real one.

Few days back I came across one of my Facebook friends post that he wanted to post a year before but for some reason he couldn't until this lockdown. It’s about a Netflix Documentary which was released two-years’ ago. I couldn't finish watching his video rather it prompted me to search in some other reliable sources, the full documentary. Although there were some reviews I had to watch some of them not because I intended to watch. It is because I couldn't find what I wanted to watch in full length. At last I was able to find with the help of a Google. It took hell of a lot of time out of my day. And this is not the first time I have spent trying to find something on Google. 

After watching it pinned awareness about social media and its ethical conducts. About how gigantic companies like Facebook and Google are operated with the profit maximization as their core interest. And how they can manipulate about billions of users with the help of Artificial Intelligence (AI) and the algorithm. Almost every social media apps uses one or similar kind of algorithm to keep their users engaged all the time. These powerful machines are triggering your emotions that you even do not know. Our body releases dopamine—sort of chemical released by body to feel pleasure—while engaging online and therefore our mind wants us to be near our mobile always checking notifications. Most of us would have never thought of this but this is not something accidental. Actually they're designed in such a way that you are hooked on to the screen for hours and make you feels like it is only few seconds. 

Some of the former employees (resigned) of Facebook, YouTube, Google and Instagram have shared their concern about how these companies are venturing into unhealthy trends. 

To understand technically you must watch The Social Dilemma.

I do not totally disagree that social media is a waste. But the question is about who should regulate it? 

Hardly there is anybody who thinks that this is a problem therefore it will take a long time to solve. 

Social media is not but they're designed to be addictive.

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Dear Jurmey


Dumo

Dear Jurmey, 

I hope you're doing fine. I had to write this short letter in order to ask a favor from you. 

Four days ago a cat entered my room from the kitchen window — that I have left open for the ventilation purpose. I will call her Dumo. Long time back we had a cat named Dumo. She was our neighbor's cat but she spent most of her time at our house and later died in our home. This cat resembles our long-time lost Dumo. Their color spots are similar though late Dumo was white and grey. 

I didn't chase her immediately. I wanted to. As it is extremely cold she found a warm place near the electric heater. I thought she might leave. You know I have no passion to raise pets and not definitely cats although I don't have ailurophobia. Of course I hate feline hair loss as it messes blankets and floor. 

After few hours I chased Dumo because I knew she won't leave easily.

The next morning Dumo was inside washroom on a washing machine supposedly waiting for me to open door. I noticed how cleverly she crossed from a hole of the ventilation nets. This time I chased her instantly. How cruel of me. This action gave me a sensible reason to call her back. I opened the door and she was no where. Crazy cat, when I went to cook breakfast,  i found her on the window of a kitchen. It was such a pitiful moment to see her. She might have pleaded me if I had understood her better. I knew she wanted to come in but don't want to show in front of me. She wasn't coming inside when I called her instead pretended to stay far from my reach. I knew what was coming and skipped myself into washroom. Exactly she was, hesitantly, but stubborn as you see, treating herself with warm heat. I thought, I will not chase. 

You see, I pray and wish for the fulfillment of every desires of every beings, and here I'm not willing to keep one cat. 

I'm such a hypocrite! So blame me! 

During lunch time she wanted to go outside. I knew as She was meowing. I closed the door. Thought she's kind as she's not asking for food. 

But she would sleep for a long hours and I've never seen cat sleep like this. Promise. Jurmey this reminded me of how peacefully you would sleep during the day time. In Dumo I saw your sleep. 

And today morning she was sleeping in my blanket. I wanted to chase again and curse never to leave any windows open but it was midnight and I thought she won't find any better cloths than my blanket. We slept together. 

As usual she slept from morning till evening. But today I felt something unnatural with Dumo. She was not asking for food also. In earlier days I thought she might be eating somewhere and coming to sleep. My presumption was incorrect. I even tried feeding her but no sign of any interest in eating. I'm helplessly worried about Dumo.

Still she's sleeping on a chair and I can hear her pur. 

Jurmey please take her to the veterinary tomorrow morning. 

Jamyang Loden