Shingkhar: The Tale of the Wish-Fulfilling Buddha Statue

This is a Wish-fulfilling Buddha
Statue at Shingkhar. 
Photo credit: Lekden Wangchuk.
Since this is a sacred statue, please treat
it with respect. 

Our discipline master (Kudrung) said, “Please tell us about the upper floor of this monastery.” The monastic guide or caretaker, who was about to conclude, replied, “Oh! Actually, the upper floor has a wish-fulfilling statue of Buddha Shakyamuni; there is nothing else of significant importance. Trulku Chogdhen Gonpo sculpted three statues of the same size, representing the dharmakaya, Sambhogakaya, and nirmanakaya: Buddha, Vajrasattva, and Guru Padmasambhava. He gave the other two to Sumthrang and Gadhen, respectively. Since the food is served by housewives, it is said that they were taught some lines to offer food and tea to receive blessings.

Wish-fulfilling Guru
Statue of Gadhen
Source: Druk Gi Nye,
Facebook Page

“Although this statue has gained fame everywhere, the other two have not received as much attention. This is a statue of Buddha Shakyamuni, and I have no doubt about the blessings it will bestow upon every being. I doubt if there is another way to accumulate merits than offering to Buddha. But this is a special statue.

“You are devotees of a highly revered Lama, so I should not be saying these kinds of words. The blessings of a Buddha are definite, and monks are aware of this. I will share one wish-fulfilling story among many:

"There was a man from Paro who came here to collect taxes from the people under the command of Desi. During that time, our local folks told him to make a wish in front of the wish-fulfilling statue. He said he had a dream of becoming a Paro Poenlop and promised that if his wish were granted, the people of Shingkhar would be waived from paying taxes, and their monastery would receive a Sertog. The villagers became happy and prayed together in front of the statue.     After being appointed as the Poenlop, he called men from Shingkhar and treated them to sumptuous meals. As promised, he sent the Sertog and wrote an order to waive taxes until his resignation. It used to take at least 13 days to reach Paro from here, so the Poenlop kindly sent them back with enough food and drinks for their journey. We still have the old Sertog, though it is worn out now.

"During those days, when people had to go through tough times, our village enjoyed privileges due to this statue. People became more devoted, and it is not surprising that whoever dies from our village is reborn here.

“Since my childhood, I've hardly seen genuine Dharma practitioners in this village. You might see someone wearing a religious outfit, but they did all kinds of household chores, like plowing fields. It was never about achieving enlightenment, but when they die, if a father dies in that house, he is born somewhere here and starts to recollect his past: 'I have this many cattle—such is my mother’s name—such is my father's name,' and so on.

"Isn't it funny that while Rinpoches are often unable to recollect their past lives, here in our village, common people can do so?” he laughed again.

“Our present Tshogpa was a cow herder in his past life. By the time he started speaking, he recollected the number of cattle, recognized each of them, and walked all the old routes on his own. It is like a spontaneous birth.

“I found it hard to believe and had to ask the late Dasho Shingkhar Lama for an explanation. Genuine practitioners find it hard to reach their past places, yet here, even common people can clearly recollect their past lives. Lama told me about the sacredness of the statue and why we must seek refuge in it.

"That’s all. Some of you might have come from far places to Kharchu. Although I'm a layman, we’re Dharma friends. If you count, there will be very few who have not received transmission from Namkhai Nyingpo Rinpoche. We are vajra brothers!”

After applauding him, we dispersed.

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Jaboema and the Legacy of Shingkhar Rabney

Picture: Druk Ge Nye,
Facebook.
In this place Kunkhyen
Longchen spent most of the
time meditating. 

“Jaboema grew up to become a young and handsome man. For us, it is acceptable to receive teachings from any lama. He was a lineage holder in the Nyingma tradition and had to pass that on to the next generation, so he was waiting for a suitable teacher. Fortunately, at that time, the great Terton Pema Lingpa was residing in Tang. Jaboema received teachings from him, considered him his teacher, and became a qualified master.

"Later, Pema Lingpa was received on the 15th day of the 11th Bhutanese month to consecrate (Rabney) a small temple built in this place. Today, we have the annual Shingkhar Rabney, performed with various sacred mask dances, which began the year Pema Lingpa visited. It is one of the coldest seasons," he said, as I felt the flat stone beneath my foot. “The iron hanging there is all handmade by Pema Lingpa,” he pointed at the small-sized door that leads to Rahula Phodrang.

As per my research, their annul event is celebrated from the 21st day of the 11th month of the Bhutanese calendar. I am not sure if there is anything to clarify.

“That’s all. Actually, it can be lengthy, but I've kept it brief.” He gently finished the precious story and summed up a few points in the following lines: “I have come across many new people. They say the moment they come from Tonglayla, especially at this time, they feel extremely happy. Even some lamas from Tibet told me that there’s no other place to describe paradise; this is the real one. But I think paradise is a different world. Here, in this world, it is like a prison that binds us in this samsara.” He chuckled, “That’s it.”

To be continued....

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The Story of Kunkhyen Rinpoche and His Heirs

Front view of the monastery 

He continued narrating eloquently, "Kunkhyen Rinpoche wanted to preserve certain prophecies and nangtens (sacred religious items) for future purposes. This made Za concerned, and he said, 'Lord, in the distant future, people will show less interest in religious activities. They will not care about precious dharma items, and even scriptures will be read by few. Please keep blessings to overcome all of these.' Kunkhyen replied, 'There will come a Lama who will fulfill all that I have said.'

"Later, Kunkhyen's grandson came from Tharpaling to beg for alms. By destiny, he stayed behind one night, met a woman, and shared a moment of intimacy. From them, great grandson Tsezang Thaye Drakpa was born.

"Tsezang might have been born to an aristocratic Lama’s family, but he didn’t wear red; instead, he wore white clothes. Nevertheless, he fulfilled the prophecy: people began to settle here, and a small monastery was built. In those days, and even today, we hardly grow crops here. Therefore, the Lama and some villagers had to go to Kurtoe to beg for various grains. We still find the route, Mem Tsezang Lam, named after him; the path is so steep and scary. That's how they traded.

"Later, the Lama married and had an eldest son, Jaboema."

To be continued.....

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Voices of the Divine: The Mystery of the Bird Proclaiming Kunkhyen Chhoeje

Shingkharpa's front view
from their village.

"Kunkhyen Rinpoche kept a word of prophecies for future purposes. There are many other stories, but they would be lengthy. This place was once a small grassland. Kunkhyen spoke like a lion’s roar, ‘People will settle here, a monastery will be built, and the time will come when a bird will proclaim Kunkhyen Chhoeje. This will be the time to act upon righteous deeds, bringing benefits to fellow beings. If you do as I say, there’s no need to practice other dharma; this is enough. You will be born in the heavenly realm. If you harm others, you will be born in the vajra hell. There’s no other way,'

"I think this is true. I am between fifty and sixty, whereas this temple has been here for hundreds of years. In those years, there wasn’t space to walk around the monastery or circumambulate; every space belonged to other people. It was during our time when Shingkhar Lama requested the private landowners and completed the formalities of land transactions in the name of the monastery. Then the Kora began for the first time at this place, hardly thirty years ago.

"Now, people are saying that they hear Kunkhyen Chhoeje being spoken by a bird. I couldn’t believe it when they said it, and outsiders like you won’t either,” he burst into laughter. “I never thought birds would make such a noise until I heard it while strolling above the male and female stream. I was skeptical, but it is true what Kunkhyen prophesied,"

He pondered, “I could not be of any benefit, but when I heard such, the thought ran through my mind—I’ve taken a step toward accumulating religious merits," Those words from an old man were a hair-raising moment. I would have wiped a tear if I had been alone in that room.

"Later, Lama tried recording the sound on a mobile, but surprisingly, it automatically gets erased from the phone. It doesn’t last even a year,”

To be continued.....

Za Rahula’s Drubchu

Monks Enjoying Porridge in the Early Morning.

"Compared to many other villages, our village has plenty of water. If you go towards the east, you'll find stream after stream, but there was not a single source that was worth offering to Kunkhyen. Za once again approached Kunkhyen and said, 'If YOU stay here forever, I have no say. If YOU leave tomorrow, I have no say. After all, it is YOUR destiny. As long as YOU stay, I'll serve YOU at any cost, no matter what.' He continued, 'But there are no clean water sources to offer YOU, Lama.'

"With his clairvoyance, Kunkhyen described a water source to Za: 'There's a male and female stream, black and white, meeting at the end of the grassland. That is drinkable. Bring that to me.' Za fetched the water and served his teacher, but only for a short time. Since he had to walk a long distance, he requested Kunkhyen if there was any possibility or destiny for him to find his own water source (Drubchu).

"Kunkhyen said, 'You have fortune, and in the future, your water will bring immense benefit to the village.' Za Rahula’s Drubchu is where you see it today, just a few minutes' walk from the temple. That is about Za Chu, although there are many other stories; I’ll be brief.

To be continued...

The Sacred Painting of Za Rahula by Kunkhyen Longchen

On Kunkhyen Longchen's recently unearthed throne, a statue of Kunkhyen Himself is kept. This statue is truly awe-inspiring. I have never seen any other statue of Kunkhyen that matches the charisma of this one. Additionally, buried underneath the throne is Lha-tsho, which I mentioned in my previous post.

An old man cleared his throat and continued, “One day, Za Rahula approached the revered Kunkhyen with a heartfelt concern. Za Rahula said, ‘In the distant future, I won't be visible to the people because I'm a deity. You're a Lama, so everyone will get a chance to see you. Please bless me with a solution.’ In response, Kunkhyen asked Za to bring an unpainted scroll. Using his own blood, Kunkhyen painted a likeness of Za on the scroll.

“Today, many people, especially those in elite society, claim to possess similar painting there of. However, the painting we have is entirely different. This distinction is crucial because, if not handled with care, the painting poses a significant threat to life. Even if you're a Lama, the consequences can be severe, ranging from death to prolonged serious illness. Regardless of one's purity of heart, punishment from Za is inevitable. We clean the place occasionally, but Za spares no one; there is always some kind of sickness or uncomfortable feeling associated with it.

“Kunkhyen bestowed the painting with a prophetic blessing: ‘In the future, this will be a sacred item. Nothing will happen to it; it will not be carried away by water, destroyed by fire, or stolen by thieves.’ Remarkably, this painting remains visible to this day, preserved through generations,"

The deep sense of affection old man has, rooted in his forefathers, is evident in the way he narrates and expresses himself. However, the painting is not accessible to everyone. Entering Rahula’s secret and sacred room is a privilege few can dream of.

To be continued.......

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Shingkhar: The Place of Longchen

Shingkhar Za Phodrang.

This is my fourth time visiting Shingkhar, a village at least a two-hour bus ride from Chamkhar. My first visit was in 2010 when one of my friends, who now coordinates occasional events like Kanjur recitation, invited another school staff member and me on an adventure to hunt matsutake—the rarest mushroom species with high medicinal value. Although we couldn't find any, we managed to persuade some local kids to give us some in exchange for cash.

In the evening, as we were about to leave, I vaguely remember my friend pointing out a monastery below his house. He might have tried to tell me about the monastery but didn't explain its significance to his not-so-religious friend. Apart from the mushroom, I knew very little about Shingkhar.

More than a decade later, I once again visited Shingkhar in 2022, but this time as an ordained monk, curious about everything related to the omniscient one. In that same year, more than a hundred monks were invited, for the first time, to Dechenling Monastery to recite Kanjur. 

This year is our second time. As a Buddhist student, I'm gaining new knowledge about the life of Longchenpa, motivating me to explore the places he had been while in Bumthang.

Every time I come here, I listen to wonderful stories that don't linger in my memory for long. So, I decided to take advantage of recording and sharing them in writing with interested people like you.

There is a man in his early sixties, whose bald head shone brightly, reflecting the light like a polished mirror. His poignant narration kept the crowd silent; the audience was so captivated that you could hear a pin drop; not a single person even coughed.

After clearing his throat and initially stammering, he began, “According to our Shingkhar Lam, it was Za Rahula who settled here before Kunkhyen Longchen. Not so long ago, people settled below the current settlement, in the sloped areas. I don't know why people preferred such places in the olden times, but we can still see the evidence even to this day.

“In this very place, there were trees, and in between was a small grassland; it must have been such a lovely sight. Za chose this meadow as his seat. You have to climb down from this door to the underground hole; some of you might have entered with your Rinpoche. Many attendants have come earlier. Just below this statue of Kunkhyen Himself was a Lha-tsho.

“In those days, people were living in complete darkness; they didn't know much about dharma. Za became their ultimate refuge from then on. However, Kunkhyen traveled from Tharpaling and settled at a place above this monastery on a hilltop, where he meditated most of the time. During that period, many people started to get closer to Kunkhyen. They said that the moment they heard and saw him, they felt like offering something, generating pure devotion that never arose earlier.

“When people said they had someone with similar qualities, Kunkhyen decided to visit their place, wondering who that could be. Upon hearing the news and with utmost reverence, Za Rahula wanted to receive Kunkhyen, who is indeed his own teacher, in a grand ceremony, so he prepared a throne and other necessities at a place above this village that has a shape like a throne. Now you cannot see it because a bulldozer has destroyed it; you could say modern development, but we still call the place Zhukthri.

“After Kunkhyen reached here, He saw a lha-tsho where he ordered Rahula to hide it from villagers as it was not something to be shown openly. As ordered, he covered it with a flat stone so that others couldn't see it. On the top flat stone, Rahula made a throne for Kunkhyen to consecrate a small temple. Although we recently unearthed the throne, this is what we heard from a long time back about the ‘lha-tsho beneath the earth.’ Due to long-term, the throne was covered under the earth. Kuenchen sat on the throne and asked people the name of the place, to which they replied, Shingkhar. So He renamed it Shingkhar Dechenling."

To be continued.....

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The Fading Excitement: My Journey with the Kangyur

I've been busy this whole Vesak month’s weekends, participating in a mission to bring welfare to beings. My contribution has been simple: going from one home to another, reciting the Kangyur, which contains Buddha’s words translated from Sanskrit to Tibetan.

Young monks

Monks reciting 

Last Sunday, even though it wasn’t Vesak month, I had the chance to recite again with the monks from Tamzhing and Trongsa Rabdey at Kurjey Lhakhang. This annual program is usually initiated by a group of contractors, who I believe are ex-monks, during Vesak month. However, due to our tight schedules, they had to postpone it this year.

Monks having porridge/thukpa

Having Paneer Thukpa 

I'm sharing this because seven years ago, I encountered a Kangyur booklet for the first time in this same monastery and for the same cause. I was struck by the size of the paper and the way it was wrapped. Having never seen such a giant book before, I even took a picture and posted it on my Facebook story that day.

During break time

Now, after reciting hundreds of volumes, the initial excitement has faded. I no longer feel the same curiosity or eagerness to recite. Over time, these interests have either vanished completely or diminished significantly. Perhaps it has become such a routine part of my life that the excitement has gone unnoticed.

Bodh Gaya: The Ruins of Nalanda

The distance between Nalanda and Vulture Peak is approximately 15 km; therefore, it didn't take us more than thirty minutes.

From the bus parking, we immediately rushed towards the gate to collect tickets from the counter. Any visitors are charged, but with different prices. While Indians are charged less than outsiders, I was told westerners are charged even higher than that.

Group photo with His Holiness

This is not a new trend in some parts of Indian places where scams are part of their bread. Be careful! Otherwise, there are scammers in auto drivers, taxi drivers, hoteliers, shopkeepers, street hawkers, beggars, even police officers ready to take advantage of innocents and newcomers.

Before coming, I had heard, read, and watched about Nalanda, which is not only the oldest in the world but also the biggest university of its time. I was also told it took three months to raze down the entire university by fire, and millions of books were burnt.

I couldn't believe I was in that particular place where great panditas like Nagarjuna, Shantrakshikta, Chandrakriti, Shanti Deva, Arya Deva, Asanga, Vasubandhu, and so many others had studied. Though there are boards at all the sites written about the events, it is not enough to make you understand. I was even skeptical when pilgrims were listening to guides. I feel it is better not to listen to distorted information. This is because if you listen, you'll pass it on to others; if you don't listen, you'll not get information, but you will not pass false information.

While inspecting some of the sites, our Kyabje Rinpoche arrived. We assembled to receive oral transmission of Manjusrinamasamgiti, the first chapter of Madhyamaka-alam-kara and madhyamakavatara, recited expressions of reverence of panditas, recited Ganachakra or feast gathering, even had debates at the end within monks.

To be continued.....

Bodh Gaya: The Importance of Mindfulness in Travel

I'm sure we've heard "Bodh Gaya" more than any other place's name, and some of us have dreamt of visiting this place for so long. But not everyone is blessed equally, at least if your dream of visiting is still pending.

Mahabodhi Temple

In my case, I was blessed that the monastery bore all the costs for some 300 monks. Sometimes, I feel that what I've achieved can never be compensated for with what I do in this life, though I don't have much to show materially. Yet, I feel the tightness of having a lot!

As soon as we reached Bodh Gaya, one of our friends from Namdroling Monastery received us and brought us to our rented apartment that would be home for the next 13 days. In a season like this, finding a good room with required amenities is competitive. Somehow, Pema managed to get one for the six of us.

In our group, two could neither speak nor understand Hindi, two of course understood and spoke a little, while another two were a bit more advanced. I fell into the third category, which means I was bound to talk and do miscellaneous activities.

Since we reached four days ahead of '35th Nyingma Monlam Chenmo' on the second day, we were informed to reach Vulture Peak, the place in Rajgir which is approximately 75 km away. This meant we were supposed to wake up early in the morning because the bus takes nearly three hours. We missed our 2 a.m. alarm. 

The 22-hour journey the previous day and night on the bus actually made us go deep into sleep. I don't know if it is luck, but something woke me up. I checked my phone to find it was 5:56 a.m. I couldn't believe it, rubbed my eyes, carefully squinted before uttering, “yalama chu tshe khung dewa la!” One of them quickly responded, “Hung? Mangi du ko.” I showed him my phone, “5:56 dewa la.” By that time, all hurried from their mattresses and rushed to their belongings.

Many of our friends had called us on messenger, some even tried calling us but received no response. Hoping to reach the place on time, we had to take a taxi. We couldn't make it to the oral transmission of Prajnaparamita, but at least got satisfaction that we sat for a few minutes in the presence of our own Guru and chanted a short version of the same scripture.

To be continued.......

Why Clay Pot Saving?

I purchased this from Chamkhar and named it to receive blessing from the god of wealth. I have even written 'Jamyang Ku' at the other side of the pot which is not visible.  That means the reason for storing is to buy a statute of Manjushri, god of my birth sign.

When it comes to saving, not necessarily cash, I'm someone who doesn't have enough to expense even a lunch trip. Yet it is surprising to realize how I saved in one of the most convenient bank I bought and named for myself 'Dzambhala'—the god of wealth.

9th May 2020-16 March 2023

It all began with my interest in 'no to waste' rather than 'saving for the future.' Though, you might find, these two approaches have the same outcome, I personally find and believe, that the intention is different. I'll not preach the difference since I've no interest and also for a reason that I'm writing this to tell you why I saved in mud bank—points supported by first approach. 

If you happened to be a bikshu like us then it is common to receive offerings from lay people. In the olden days people would offer foods but today they offer cash as a substitute or mainly because of its convenience. 

When I joined the sangha community I had, never in my wildest dream, thought of accumulating materialistic things. But I've learned the value of having and not having over the time. It is about finding effective solution with whatever little you've. Hence my clay pot idea became a part of storing bank notes to avoid unnecessary wastes.

Initially I stored lower notes but the size of clay pot changed that. I stored bigger notes, occasionally,  to avoid from getting full within a short duration. However I could keep it for less than four years only. By the way I wanted to keep another five more years but, as I said, the size of clay pot matters in the long run. And also because I'm ex-business student, it is my responsibility to give back to the economy what some of us might consider—a healthy contribution. 

I would urge everyone to store for few years till it becomes available to bring before the real banking institutions. The reason why I'm saying this is because we cannot visit banks regularly based on certain reasons. For instance even when you have time, you won't have notes, because you don't have fixed income. The best way I found is to do what I've been doing. Indeed I'm doing this until I find a better solution.

Well it might be of less importance to some of you, But it can change the entire course for someone. If you've been wondering how much I hoard in that mud I've the lists. 

Notes:

500*5

100*42

50*13

20*14

10*30

5*13

1*4

Coins: 

2 Indians 

3 cents

1 Bhutanese

Visited underrated Lugiraw—the horn of a sheep

Monstery seen from Kakaling

I presume most of us would have never heard, let alone reached, one of the underrated monasteries located about a 2-hour walk from Lusbi. I've been longing to go there ever since I started hearing the name: 'lugiraw,' 'lug-sheep,' 'raw-horn,' which roughly translates into ‘sheep's horn’ or ‘horn of a sheep.’ To my utter surprise, I came to know interesting stories after I reached the monastery along with 20 other pilgrims. I'll narrate some of them, although I am not eloquent enough to do as much as some of you expect from me.

I think knowing route is as important as having a proper guide. I'm sharing first about this. 

We drove from Kurjey Lhakhang towards Dur. After fifteen minutes, we came across a junction, took the right road towards BHU, and then took another right turn onto an unpaved road, which led us to Lusbi village. We drove until we reached the end of a bumpy road for a few minutes. We distributed our packed lunch amongst ourselves before we began our actual trek. Within that short span of time, another group, apparently T-Cell staff in their twenties, came smilingly out of their Bolero Camper. Together, we started climbing from the base of a mountain that would take us to our destination. In the beginning, I felt so tired that I even thought of giving up. As I walked further, carrying a 15kg rice container, my body couldn't adjust, so I had to share the burden of carrying the heavy lunch box with my young nephews. Then, I felt relieved with a water bottle and a few chewing gums in my side bag. Frankly speaking, I didn't find the path too strenuous, especially when I saw my 9-year-old niece managing it. She had some difficulty initially, which is common for almost everyone. Once we reached Manithang, a small stupa on the way, the terrain became flat, and we descended until we reached the monastery. Our group took 1 hour and 40 minutes, including breaks; otherwise, it wouldn't take long for regular hikersWe drove from Kurjey Lhakhang towards Dur. After fifteen minutes, we came across a junction, took the right road towards BHU, and then took another right turn onto an unpaved road, which led us to Lusbi village. We drove until we reached the end of a bumpy road for a few minutes. We distributed our packed lunch amongst ourselves before we began our actual trek. Within that short span of time, another group, apparently T-Cell staff in their twenties, came smilingly out of their Bolero Camper. Together, we started climbing from the base of a mountain that would take us to our destination. In the beginning, I felt so tired that I even thought of giving up. As I walked further, carrying a 15kg rice container, my body couldn't adjust, so I had to share the burden of carrying the heavy lunch box with my young nephews. Then, I felt relieved with a water bottle and a few chewing gums in my side bag. Frankly speaking, I didn't find the path too strenuous, especially when I saw my 9-year-old niece managing it. She had some difficulty initially, which is common for almost everyone. Once we reached Manithang, a small stupa on the way, the terrain became flat, and we descended until we reached the monastery. Our group took 1 hour and 40 minutes, including breaks; otherwise, it wouldn't take long for regular hikers. 

If I've forgotten to introduce anyone, it's the caretaker of the monastery who has been with us from the beginning of our journey. He is a kind Lama, the source of many of the stories I will share.

The Lama stays alone, looking after the monastery, but that's not the only reason I'm surprised by him. It's when he told me how he carried gas cylinders and other heavy items like rice bags and water tanks that I was even more amazed. He doesn't use horses to carry heavyweight items. In the simplicity of his life, I saw the qualities of a spiritual seeker who doesn't take anything for granted. I thought that if I truly want to spend time in the woods, knowing life-hacking skills is important, something I didn't realize until I met the Lama. In my observation, the Lama was like a well-equipped explorer venturing into a wildlife safari.

Now, let me share some of the sacred sites of Lugiraw by introducing the founder. According to Sonam Darjay, the caretaker in 2011, the foundation of the current monastery was laid by a famous Geshe Kharak Gomchung from Tibet. The present monastery was extended in the 17th century. The place became more famous, and it got the name from an incident that is narrated by many: Yogi Kharak Gomchung had a sheep accompanying him in carrying his baggage. One day, deities, spirits, and demons were causing harm, cracking the cave in which he was meditating. Miraculously, Geshe Kharak lifted the cave with one of his legs, and at that instant, his sheep came to the rescue, lifting a cave with its horn. Evil spirits were subdued in that moment. We can see the print of the horn and foot, the phodrang of subdued spirits, and the seat of a master evidently behind the monastery. Hence, the name of the monastery. The Eto Meto tree was used for tethering sheep, and I had an opportunity to observe it up close. The holy water below the cave has now dried up, but one can still see the cave getting wet in the area. There are sacred nangtens as well, which I won't elaborate on for some reason.

Print of horn

Eto meto tree, spirits phodrang, foot print and seat of Lama.

Do and don’ts for monks

According to the present Lama, the monastery remained under the care of Tamzhing Chhoeje and descendants for many years. With time, managing it became difficult for the family, so it was handed over to Trongsa Rabdey.

I saw a large desho paper pasted against the wall on the top floor. My curiosity couldn't hold me back from asking the Lama about the purpose of that paper. Upon careful inspection, I could read some of the discipline-related words, though most had worn out. I was told that there were some hundreds of monks, and people from as far as Thangbi would bring monks for their ritualistic purposes. The daily learning of the monks included some of the basic rig-nye, and people living nearby the monastery paid taxes to the powerful lord, and the Lama had influential political powers as well.

It's sad to see that the monastery is in dire need of restoration. It feels like the monastery is completely forgotten by everyone. I hope the concerned authorities will look into it as they would any other important issue.

This monastery may hardly have any space on the visitors' list, but those who make it here will definitely fall in love with it

I ventured into Bonbji—the place of bõn

I never thought I would visit Bemji, one of the remote villages under Nubi gewog in Trongsa. It was only after reaching there and searching online that I learned more about that place.

Nephew Chokden was my guide when I visited Naktsang,  with Kanjur Lhakhang seen in the background. 

Before I share with you the historical significance, let me explain how I reached there.

One of the daughters of my maternal aunt is married to a man from Bemji. So, he was on the way along with his daughter to receive treatment from Rangshikhar Rinpoche in Gelephu. They were not sure about the Rinpoche's residence. Since I know one of the attendants through a friend, I told my mom to inform them that I have someone there. In that short conversation, my mom arranged for my return journey with them. Upon their request, I accompanied them to Rangshikhar Rinpoche as a translator since both the father and daughter were not fluent in Tshangla. 

That's how I reached Bemji. 

In the beginning, I wasn't sure about the exact location, although I knew it starts somewhere from Bjizam, a bridge a few kilometers from Trongsa towards Thimphu. Of course, I had no reason to worry as I was accompanied by natives. I think it took more than forty-five minutes from the bridge point to reach Bemji, which is 17 km away. It was a dark and foggy ride that prevented me from enjoying the new scenery. The only thing I could notice was the light in each household in the distance.

The next morning, I tried looking around, but the foggy weather still veiled the villages. I waited for the next few hours to get a clear view.

Now, as I checked online, I came to know more about Bemji, its religious significance, and the stories of deities.

I asked my in-law to share anything with me, and he shared some interesting stories about Muktse, the protecting deity, and other stories that I forgot. In the olden days, Muktse would roam freely amongst humans. Many women would give birth to his illegitimate children. While some children misused their physical strength, others benefited the community. One notable figure we have heard of is Garp Lungi Khorlo—he became a postman of Trongsa Poenlop for his unmatched speed. Muktse Phodrang can be seen from the school in the distance, overlooking the villages.

A few minutes from the primary school, there's a three-story traditional house known as Bonbji Choje Naktsang. According to one tradition, Bemji is actually a mispronunciation of Bonbji, which means 'inheritors of Bön.' It is said that the illegitimate son of King Trisong Detsen settled here after being exiled. He was a Bön practitioner, hence the name. Another tradition holds slightly different beliefs but ultimately believes the initial settlement was chosen by a descendant of a Tibetan king.

After walking a few steps down, there's another two-story house called Kanjur Lhakhang. I was told that the Kanjur was first received by the people of Kuenga Rabten from Tibet and kept there, with the commitment to recite it once every year. However, people couldn't continue after a few years, so it was brought to a source of Mangdi River after discussions among concerned authorities. Kanjur recitation is still continued every year by the people of Bemji. Monks from Kharchu Monastery have voluntarily gone there upon the villagers' request in the last few years, starting from the 15th day of the first Tibetan month.

Then I went for another 20-minute ride to Dokseyphel Goenpa in the north.

Dokseyphel Goenpa 

The next day, I began my journey towards Bumthang. I hitched a ride in four vehicles until I reached my destination.

Visited home in Gelephu

Journey 

After four long years in Bumthang I made myself to southern foothills along with brother and family to meet our only mother. Moreover it is better to be in the south during cold season and I've always wanted to go there for a short break. I woke up at 3:00 am to begin my morning chant and get ready for the departure after an hour. However we were late by one hour when we started our journey (5:00 am.) Our vehicle roared through the silent Chamkhar town and then vanished into the Garpang pines. It was a marvelous ride in the early morning especially when there’s no ice and snow.

Newly paved road between Serzhong—Tareythang highway.

We reached Trongsa when the sun rays has already fallen on the mountain peaks. After refueling the diesel our journey continued until we reached a roadside canopy at Koshala. We unpacked our tea and snacks during a short break. But the motion sickness didn't let us eat and drink peacefully. It hardly occurs to me with certain type of vehicle. Amongst all niece had a bad suffering; we had to stop several times in between. 

Although my brother and I stay nearby we hardly get time to talk. This trip was worth as we could share our opinions otherwise our information passes down through second and third person.

I was surprised when we reached home at 2:30 pm. The memory’s of traveling late in the night in the bus is unforgettable. Those days we had to travel more than 16 hours to reach Gelephu from Trongsa/Bumthang. We didn't have any choice than boarding bus. Finding a lodge in the late hours was another burden. Nowadays it isn't issue even if you don't have personal vehicle. 

After reaching home I was surprised by some of the changes. Of course positive changes like upgrading of Norbuling Higher Secondary, black top road till Tareythang, most houses are covered by betel nut trees, number of concrete houses have increased, apart from bus there's taxi and the shooting of land prices , all this factors have helped people’s living standards to improve as well. 

Sansari Bazaar 

Betel nut trees 

I am not satisfied with Sansarey Bazaar, we have seen this old colony since our childhood days and is still as it was long time ago. I wish if concern authority could help develop this old place to become a proper business market with proper infrastructures. The place does have a better scope. 

Dadgari Bazaar

If you happened to be in Gelephu, Dadgari is a must visit Thursday market in Assam where hundreds of people come and buy goods. I wanted to visit and it truly became wish-fulfiling this year after pandemic. I bought some of the things at a cheaper price which would cost twice or even thrice in Bumthang. People often down look Dadgari products without knowing that some of the expensive shops claiming their products as branded are actually being supplied from there. Of course you can't deny the fact that inferior products are supplied abundantly considering the lower income customers. 

Rickshaw drivers waiting for the customers

Vegetable seller's waiting for BONI buyer in the early morning. 

The price for this product is much cheaper and they're known for lasting as well. 

By the way if you're not tough there are people desperately wanting to take advantage of your weakness. For example, a day before the departure from Gelephu to Trongsa I went to buy spectacle in Dadgari, market adjacent to Bhutan gate, upon the suggestion from a friend. I asked the optical owner to show me the best quality, he showed me and was trying to convince me how good it looks on me and that I must go for that. If you've done shopping in Indian markets then you would know how cost prices are negotiated. They'll ask you double the price initially and it will go down half or more when it reaches your hand. The guy scammed me and I paid huge amount for the spectacles. I was aware and I let it go the way he wanted. 

Gelephu town 

I loitered myself in the town while remembering: 

As a young boy I used to come to this town just to watch movies with friends and sleep in the hotel room which would cost less than 150 ngultrum per night. I vivid five/six people in a single room, two bedded rarely, watching TV and adult movies on the DVD that was rented from a shop. 

An old cinema hall area is converted into park

This building has different shops

On one incident I ate THUKPA from a hotel but I didn't pay. It was not because of empty pockets, I had enough to cash, it could be some childish temptations to escape the life time opportunity of eating free of cost. 

One winter I went to Gelephu Tshechu with just fifteen ngultrum, I was fond of toy cars willing to do anything if I am to get that, so I bought an army jeep with the amount and returned home without even entering the Tali Dratsang.

I walked alone remembering all those bygone memories thinking how we might react if we were to reunite.

Remembering the day when I saw first bicycle

Riding this kind of cycle after so many years

I was barely 9 years old when I saw a bicycle for the first time in Samdrupjongkhar town more than 20 years ago. Although my memory’s couldn't store everything, I can still remember how I felt when I saw a man wearing a dark complexion riding and ringing a bell along the roads: I wondered how bicycles could produce such a melodious sound when there’s obstacles in the front. Later did I know those dark complexions were our neighbor Indians. It was completely different experience for a boy who came all the way from remote village where he had seen nothing but humans, some domesticated and wild animals. 

Few years later I could ride bicycles like the one I saw that once made me wondered. Even to these days— whenever I come across bicycle—the one that is mostly used by middle class Indians—which we call it MECHEY CYCLE—it reminds me of my narration thereof. 

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. 

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. 

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.