Confession #1

I have a privilege of meeting my old friends every weekends via social network. Thank you technology for easing life of fellow human beings and simplifying workload which benefits a lazy person like me. Our conversation would start sharing about gone moments and would laugh heartily but let me be frank, the intensity of laugh is not as powerful as it used to be. Why? I am not sure but it happens and happened. I noticed. Any ways I believe, it is nothing but a part of change and change is necessary, if one of you've never enjoyed it. However I'm some what guilty to get praise from a friends for I've done nothing worth to receive praises. "You must be lucky to have such a life," they expressed while some even told me that I must be a kind hearted person too. Sorry I cannot define how lucky I am but surely I'll tell you how 'kind' I was & I'm. 

At a tender age of six I started hunting pheasants and this happened more than a score of years ago in a remote village of Phu, it means a mountain in our dialect. My two friends were expert hunter and knew every kind of tricks to catch pheasants. In the jungle we kept a trap in several directions expecting at least one trapped, next day. We would collect a cup of rice, vegetable oil, if possible, chilli and go for a picnic after every score. I was cruel but I was also innocent  during those stage of life. Innocent? Of course, innocently committed sin.

Few years later our family migrated to Gelephu upon receiving new land, as a second resettlement group, in 1998. By then, I was only eight years old. It was a different story being a poor and in a new place with people from different ethnic. Perhaps I was mentally shaped in such environment to become even more cruel than before? I don't remember when did I began but I must have killed thousands of fishes. If you ask me which method I haven't used, it would be uninvented one otherwise my cruelty had no boundary. I used umbrella ribs, mosquito nets, hook, battery and used other method that is not favourable to mention here. Right after school hour, I would be already in the stream with required fishing stuff. My last fishing was in my early twenties. I was matured then.

Not only this, I even became a bird hunting expert. Back then we used to get catapult even from Gelephu bazaar since neighbouring assamese were allowed freely unlike today. I killed several birds for the sake of enjoyment. I think I contributed in the extinction of birds and fish. Even ecologist would like to punish me let alone my negative karma that awaits for the chance every moment of life. This story of my cruelty doesn't end here. Indeed I've so many but for God's sake let me forget and believe that I was not cruel innately.

Dear friends, by now, you know how 'kind' I was.

From Rooster to Tshed-thar: A Tale of Friendship and Ethical Dilemma

"One beautiful night..." That's how stories usually begin, and this trend would continue in our time. Allow me to share my short narrative in the tradition passed down to us.

One night, perhaps during my fifth-grade year, our group of friends planned a simple celebration as winter approached. After discussing the need for food (and, of course, some drinks), one friend—whose name I've forgotten—suggested chicken. "Chicken!" I thought aloud. "Where would we get it?" I asked. In those days, obtaining chicken wasn't difficult, but we were broke. Despite being the sons of civil servants, their pocket money often vanished on useless things. "Not very difficult," one friend broke the silence, looking at me. "We'll eat the one we've been waiting for since last year." Another friend clapped his hands together and declared, "We'll need to catch and prepare it tonight," he continued, "Tashi, your mom shouldn't find out. If she asks, we'll lie." I nodded, unable to speak a word at first, but I masked my discontent and assured them that my mother had no business interfering with our plans. Soon, we headed to my house to capture the rooster.

A year earlier, the same group of us returned from Kalikhola after a day of winter swimming. We were soaked below the waist, eyes red, and faces dried from hours in the water and sun. Hungry, we always found reasons to swim, often without our parents noticing. Chungku took out Nu. 85, if I remember correctly, and gave it to Ngawang for junk food. Suddenly, someone suggested buying chicken. Ngawang and Chungku ran to a nearby house, while the rest of us eagerly awaited their return. I noticed Chungku smiling, but not Ngawang,who was behind him. "Chick!" I exclaimed. I couldn't fathom what we were doing, or what we would do next. Chungku explained, "Our money isn't enough to buy a grown chicken." He gently placed the chick in his palm, patted it, and said, "The uncle was kind enough to give us this little one to raise until it's grown." I thought to myself, "Hell!" "Tashi, can we raise this at your house?" asked Ngawang, and the others nodded eagerly. "We'll tell your mother it's a Tshed-thar." I didn't object, but I didn't show approval either. I listened to everything they said and managed to convince my mother.

I peered through a hole to check for my mother. She wasn't home, and no one bothered to inform her, even if she had been there. Our collective mission was to find the rooster. I probably knew where the rooster slept, but I followed them, mimicking their actions and hoping to see my friends lose hope. Unfortunately, I didn't notice any of them losing interest. They were doing everything they could to find it. Finally, a friend spotted it on a branch of a small mango tree that had grown in front of our thatched house. My heart sank. I couldn't utter a word that would save the rooster's life. I could only wear the mask they wore. But catching a rooster wasn't as simple as you might think! Hours of chasing were no easy task. My friends were sweating, and some even quarreled over missed attempts. At one point, I took advantage of their exhaustion and suggested we try again the next day. Somehow, the rooster ended up inside the stacked firewood on our ground floor. There was no chance of getting it then. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it was all over.

But that wasn't the end. Plan B? We would somehow acquire a chicken that night. So, we decided to sneak into a neighbor's house. I trembled as my brave friends slipped in without a second thought. I was only concerned about how we would escape if caught. Ironically, they returned not with a chicken, but with homemade pickle. "Run!" whispered one, "towards the school." I never once thought about turning back. I can't recall how I made it to the school campus. When I looked back, I was alone. Finding a place to sit, I couldn't help but laugh. A few minutes later, I heard my friends approaching. "What were you guys up to?" I asked in a hushed voice. "Bring it here. Let me taste it," I demanded with a chuckle. "We must try again tomorrow. Let's keep watch during the day. Our chicken is a Tshed-thar; we can't kill it," Ngawang explained. The four of us silently ate the pickle, although that didn't mean we disagreed! It felt like hearing a magical word. Embracing them, I departed as it was already late at night.

I wasn't there for the second night's hunt. I heard they only managed to steal more pickle from the same house. What they did next remains a mystery to me, as well as to you, dear reader. The chance is never zero.

Was this fate or karmic connection? Although we raised the rooster to eat, it ironically earned the title of Tshed-thar. We couldn't bring ourselves to eat it because of a white lie. I believed in the philosophy that intent matters, but in our childhood story, our intentions and reality were contradictory. We intended to kill it, but in the end, we raised it as a Tshed-thar. Our family was awakened every morning by the rooster, replacing the alarm clock of the modern world. Nearly five years later, my mother's acquaintance needed a male chicken for breeding purposes. She gave it away while I was away. The story doesn't end here, but my narration does.

Masked Face

"Lopen you're looking smart." Atsara comfortably sat beside me.

"Who is the most," said I, "you or me?"

"Abviously you," he pondered, "no no. I'm the most."

I requested him for a picture, clearing throat, he immediately granted my simple wish. Indeed he embraced me.

Folks, who has the best mask? We're wearing our own mask, therefore, it is difficult to assume/predict the real truth behind mask. Probably wooden mask and flesh mask are deceptive. What you and I see is not a true revelation to what is hidden inside the two fake faces. We look at atsara with contempt! His role is to entertain and primarily is a laughing stock; without him festival is incomplete? Question is, are we confident that he's meant to be a joker? Or perhaps there's a concealed reason, we don't know. Our life is mixed with a preconceived informations thereby limiting us to know and experience the actual truth. Perceiving things not as they're but as we're is the root cause to our problematic life? I am not sure.

Our assumed perception is like a mask which doesn't expose the true identity.

Life has never been a cup of tea and it never will be. Do not get hope less when things doesn't go your way. Sometimes it is meant to come exactly the way you wanted but from a different way.

Reminder

I was simply sitting, crossed leg, coffee on my hand, and mind loitering uncontrollably. Out of nowhere, I heard a news, of course its shock, at least for me. But then after few minutes, I was trying to analyze the things properly. I could realize how uncertain this human life is. Yet we never keep aware of things for eternity. Whatever happens, it happens and goes away in due course of time. What it matters is a time. This emotion of our changes, no matter even if it is a tragic one.

How many of us are aware of death? Definitely all of us. Every being is afraid of dying. Frankly speaking, even ants try to escape from any external dangers. Fact is not even stone remains as stone. It dies to become a different form and then formation after formation. Oftentimes we are reminded in life. I am sure some of you know. Sad part is most of us are ignorant. So ignorant that we even skip morning alarm.

Human life is too short to experience everything. Perhaps that could be the reason why we are reminded to learn through other’s mistakes. And perhaps that could be the reason why we never get to excel in all the things we attempt. Nonetheless, death is a powerful reminder for us. What would you do if this were your last moment? It could be after reading this line. Would you do what you were doing so far?

Most tragic part is leaving behind our own body; the one you and I have cared from any form of dangers. Aren’t we guest for a night or tenant for a month? Why do we attach to a thing that doesn’t belong to us? Why do we express different emotions? Can’t we stick entirely being happy or sad? We change our emotion and that change has molded us, improving our life. For me death is inevitable. Without death I wouldn’t be who I am. It is death that has always guided me, religiously saying, from eons and eons of years ago. And death shall improve me until I leave this samsara.

Today I gets a reminder upon uncle’s demise, tomorrow it could be anyone. May be I’ll not get another reminder. We don’t know. That’s the fact.

Rest in Peace!

Buddha Face

Few years ago I heard from some people about the face of Buddha on a stone in Wangdue Phodrang. I have been dreaming of visiting it once ever since I heard. Recently I was in search of house for a rent with my friend who is newly recruited as an Inspector of mining under DGM, precisely Department of Geology and Mining at Wangdue. Fortunately we reached to a discussion to visit a Buddha face which is a minute’s walk from the bridge but it can be seen even from a highway which lead to Tsirang. We zoomed towards the cliff. Chencho pointed towards cliff describing components and structural form of face. I could simply see stones dangling above me while he could easily tell me “this is nose, look at eyes, the brow, see how would it look if bush were to weed out from chin area.” Poor me, I was adjusting my eyes only to get an image he was describing. With my perseverance I could find the image, it was so authentic jigsaw done by a nature. An artisan is really going to look in awe for nature has created such an amazing monument.

View from Wangdue-Tsirang Highway

The very moment I had a goose bumps instinctively prickling a thought of wonder. A wonder that might have been stored deep in my subconscious level. I have seen nature’s creation but this is something unique to express. This is a mighty piece of nature’s art lying there millions of years ago, perhaps even before that. Only people with destined fate are to discover such a monument.

Anyone aspiring to visit? It is not difficult. One need not have to climb mountain or cliffs. Simply stop by the Wangdue gate and get help from taxi driver, they will help you for sure.

Close view

I am neither philosopher nor religious minded yet it gave me a lesson to accept everything in life without complaining. One may view Buddha in the form of stone while another may view stone in the form of Buddha. We are seeing the same picture but only the difference is when individual of us judge differently. Encountering different obstacles is not an end but beginning of another mysterious journey. There is always another way to face the problem, in life!

P.s I am posting because of my passion and no other intention.

Picture that shall remind me

Gaeddu College of Business Studies 

GCBS Library

Tashi Wangchuk

“Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” Buddha

“Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.” Thich Nhat Hanh

"The greatest gift of life is friendship, and I've received it." Hubert H. Humphrey

At Punakha

A Proud Vegan

After many years, I met my childhood friend, Menda, in a restaurant in Thimphu. We have changed a lot; indeed, nothing was same. Meeting her was a memorable moment, at least for me.

In the restaurant, other people were sitting and busy talking and eating foods. My childhood friend threw a swift look at me, and instantly, I learned that she was disappointed.

“What happen?” I inquired her. “It’s a taste of meat,” she reacted grumblingly. Then she stood up, dragged her chair away to walk out of the cosy restaurant room. I simply scrolled my eyeballs around the room to see if other customers were paying attention to our conversation.

Many of them were engrossed on their own, but a few were looking at Menda when she was returning to the room after vomiting everything outside. “You don’t take beef?” I asked her in a low tone and with concern. She didn’t answer me; instead she drank a glass of water. Feeling a little better she looked at me, smiling and then she talked, “Actually, I stopped eating meat about five years ago. It was a forgotten taste in my mouth. I took an oath never to take animals’ lives for my pleasure. Not even leather jacket, fur cloths and even refraining from taking cheese and butter.”

She called out a waiter to bring her vegetable momo (dumpling). “Sorry,” I said apologetic and added hesitatingly, “I didn’t know.” She looked at me, seemingly unease in her mouth and stomach. She said, “Doesn’t matter Rinthel, it has been almost eleven years since we had departed. I can’t wait anymore to hear from you about our friends.”
Surprisingly, she can remember everything about our past. She told me about everything; moreover, she wanted to know more from me. I was dreaming. I couldn’t concentrate on her talk, our conversation. How could she stop eating meat for so long? This question occupied my mind. The truth was that she was the most active hunter when young.

After reaching out we walked towards the Memorial Chorten. Menda suggested me a novella cuisine, some veg restaurants, how to become a vegan and its benefits. Immediately, I observed her physique and noticed her skin was very fair and her face was like a child’s vivacious face, glowing bright. In fact, her inner beauty was shown in her physical appearance.

“I am a vegan. The vegans not only avoid meat, but also don’t wear products made out of animals. We love animals as much as we love our parents. Becoming vegan is not about torturing your life. There are many religions that refrain from eating anything that is produced from the soil,” she explained me further. I stood silent, listening to her carefully. As she saw me listening to her, she continued, “You know what? Gandhi nearly died from illness because he denied his doctor’s advice on taking milk. Not only Gandhi himself but Kasturba Gandhi too was strict about her diet. Upon the doctor’s insistence Gandhi asked Kasturba whether she was willing to take nutritious soup made from non-vegetarian product. She defended by saying that human life is precious so do not want her life to be poisoned by taking the life of another being. Like Gandhi himself, she would choose to die rather than living a poisonous life.”
She firmly closed her eyes, stretched out her arms and murmured, “Make a wish, this Chorten fulfills everyone’s wish. Yours too!”

Once back home, I lied on my bed and tried to remember the wish I made in front of the Great Chorten:“I will never eat meat”.

Still lying on my bed, I dreamt about my past behaviour as a young boy. Being a farmer’s son, I wasn’t aware about life as much as I am at the moment. After the school, I would be already with my catapult to shoot at birds or chase deer accompanied by my dogs. Sometimes, I would quarrel with my friends over the issue related to hunting birds. It still gives me a nervy feeling to recollect how I had escaped from forest officers when I was fishing in a river. I used to catch four kilos of fish, sometimes more.

It was wrong; I shouldn’t have done. Menda’s words and her perspective impacted me hugely. I became rational now and started believing the existence of karma and its connection. I even dedicated my time in reading more books. That way, I was able to learn more and came across many good books on vegetarian, especially from Buddhist books.

Hence, my interest widened to know more about vegetarian and its impact. There are scientific, religion and philosophical concepts to look over the matter on eating animal meat. In a nutshell, none of them encourage eating meat. Killing any living being is a crime, no matter what. Yet, we live in a world where millions of animals are being killed for consumption everyday. Are we too selfish that our encroachment reached in taking the lives of other beings?

All human beings are born herbivore, so what is the extra benefit of eating meat? Scientists have discovered many disadvantages of eating meat and eating more meat leads to heart disease, kidney failure, breast cancer, and stroke. The constitution of human body is built in such a way that only plants, vegetables and fruits meet best than preying on animals can. Mahatma Gandhi and Gary Yourofsky said that humans don’t possess canine, claws and other important factors the carnivorous have.

The existence of this world is built in such a way that everything comes as per the seed you have sown. There is no way one can escape from your actions. It is wiser to sow a good seed. I am vegetarian not by birth but by ethics, by choice. I am not guilty to look at animals because I have learnt to love them as dear as my own life.
Albert Einstein once proudly stated, “So I am living without fats, without meat, without fish, but I am feeling well this way. It always seems to me that man was not born to be a carnivore.”

Dear friends, today I’m vegetarian. And I feel proud too.