Saturday, July 20, 2013

A Beautiful Rose!

One winter day when I was pruning the rose plant, which is in front of my quarter and which has grown too thick and tall, my elder daughter came near me and asked me, ‘Father, why are you cutting that? Don’t you realize that it will give very beautiful pink roses in summer?’ I told her, ‘I am doing this to make it bloom beautifully’. ‘No’, she argued, ‘by cutting the branches you are destroying many places for roses to bloom’. ‘I enjoy seeing more roses but you are limiting the possibility of having many’, she continued. This shows how intensely she loves rose, a beautiful rose she calls it.
It is universal that everybody loves roses. It is because of their feelings towards it that made many great people, both of ancient and contemporary, talk alike about rose.  Shakespeare appreciated rose and praised it, ‘You call rose by different names, a rose is a rose’. To a child of my daughter’s age, rose would mean a real rose that Shakespeare appreciated. They describe and talk of what they see. They would hardly see anything through it. This is their age. However, if given to people of different age and level, they will describe in different ways. Different people will see rose in bunches. Roses, I like to present here is, anything that is attractive which gives people irresistible stimuli of wanting it.
In the context of my above description, a rose to a small child would mean their lovely toys caged in framed showcases or the toys that are kept around them. They would enjoy biting, pulling hard trying to tear apart, laugh the moment they spot one, and throw at parents or their loved ones as a gesture of appreciation. A child, as young as one and half years, sees rose in toys. They fall flat while sitting on the floor or they almost jump out of mothers’ back in their attempt to catch their rosy toys. Some shriek out of their excessive joys for toys. Some cry uncontrollably at times, flapping both hands and legs, against the ground.   
The charm of rose is that it can camouflage itself into age-appropriate beauties. It changes with the maturity of our mind. The moment we depart from the world of children, we see different rose. As students, studies and achievements are their roses. They would appreciate the varieties of roses. They would have ardent sense of competitions. They would be as furious as lion, as hard as stone, focus their eyes and attention at one direction like blinkered horse, and adamant and stubborn at times in their toil to glance and reach the most beautiful roses. They would locate the exact position of thorns that lay hidden inside the flat green leaves beneath the beautiful rose they have spotted. Should one inquire whether students would remain egoistic, hard-hearted, self-centered, and non-compliant even after the completion of the formalities of grasping roses, my genuine answer, which cannot be proven wrong even by the latest scientific technology, is ‘no’. My solidified trust and confidence in students, borrowed through metamorphosis of my own life, make me have this faith. Students change their attitude and outlook. I hope the ones that move along unchanged, after having fed with all the essential values, are then truly unworthy of parents, cannot be trusted as patriots, and surely born rebellious of self. I mean such students, if existed, would not benefit anyone even if they are spared of places behind bars.         
 Collegians, university students have their own religion of looking at roses. They may be soft. They may not be as hard and as jealous as students in their search for rightful roses. They may have respect to allow others to work simultaneously with them. They would have the softer feelings that whoever can understand the in-depth meanings of rose can be the winner. In a way, all would, alone and in seclusion, try their best to win. However, I cannot rule out little crookedness that may have sprinkled even in the minds of degree students.  When I was in college, I heard of a friend, whose name I do not intend to confide, who always asked other friends who were conscientious of their purpose of being there, to join him for a stroll.  On the way, he found out an alibi to part from that friend or friends who joined him for a stroll by saying ‘I want to go to attend nature’s call and would be soon back’. But, to wait for him was futile. He never appeared again, never through the exit he made, till dusk.
Civil servants too have their nature of roses. They cannot live without it. They toil day and night to earn recognition, promotion, salary raise, professional related workshops or refresher’s courses. Those things are roses for civil servants. They raise family, admit children in good schools, look for courses abroad, and searches for cheap but standard facilities. Based on their luck and favor, some make fortune instantly. We see people growing steadily in wealth and position. While some, blame it to misfortune or ill luck, becomes pauper even though they were so opulent once. Others, still with their aspiration to grow wealth, not in conformity with their position and authority, opt ways of corruption. They meet a dramatic fall in their life. What a reprehensible state is this? Why couldn’t Bhutanese have the picture of   this uncomplicated doom, when citizens of other countries could conquer the whole cosmos? I am Bhutanese; I am concerned about Bhutanese, if anyone asks me why I have associated corruption with Bhutanese.           
Similarly, businessmen see growth in their bank balance, dealing with many customers, seeing the sight of consignments getting emptied and replenished more rapidly as their roses of attraction and encouragement of further prosperity.  For parents, roses are the sights of their children growing beautiful and handsome, succeeding in schools, getting employed and helping them. They would not have much expectation beyond that.
I am a teacher. Can I also have a rose? What type of rose will I have? And will it be suitable for me? Frankly speaking, I haven’t got one at hand. I do not have intention of claiming the rose planted and nurtured by others as mine. I want to, with difficulty, no matter how much, plant and water myself until it bears the rose of my choice and color. I have planted it in abundance. However, I saw many wilting in their initial stage itself. A few roses that I see at a distance are unclear whether they are the result of my hard work, perseverance and sacrifice. I am busy with my present assignment of tending the rose beds and plants. I hardly have time to visit my earlier works. It is my prayer and wish that they would not wilt. I remember that I have shaded them appropriately so that they can guard themselves from unfriendly frost and dew and from over kindness of warmth from the sun. I see my colleagues pointing out their roses having reached the position of ministers, secretaries and many more. I envy and dream that one day even I may find my roses. I am hoping that my effort and energy may not go in vain. When I see mine, I will be able to see whole bed of roses as being beautiful, attractive and cause of envy in others. When I work, I do not strive to promote only the healthy ones. I try to equally promote the weaker ones by tending them closely and personally. I treat everyone equally. I despise the word partiality. I long to present to the outside world, one day, my whole bed of roses, so beautiful, so charming and so aromatic.        
As I have mentioned earlier, roses are varied. One may have to recognize and identify the type of rose that appeals one’s sense. Age-appropriate roses are available. We must not dream of roses which are not appropriate for us. When young, we must not expect to pluck the roses that are beyond our reach. We cannot balance ladder on rose plant while plucking. Plucking with struggle may prick us with thorns of troubles. What you ultimately get may become waste and would seem like trying to eat fruit before it is ripe. Roses of one’s choice are always beautiful.


Plight of a Modern Child

Awake! Awake! Some vociferous knock I hear at door ajar,
I loathe the manner less junk that sizzle my heavenly dream,
Rubbing my half-opened eyes, gazing through window panes,
Lo! I spot many tentacle examinations erect at threshold.

Alas! I’m trapped and do not foresee escape,
My feeble strength cannot command it halt,
Nor do I have courage to rendezvous it,
Where can I discover safe refuge to keep my head from shame?

My ostentatious friends with their cajoled tricks,
Consumed major chunk of my glorious period,
I hid in oblivion ingesting medicine they extended laughing,
Decades of time I presumed one day in jocund company of poison.

My parents reminded, ‘Son, thy friends have delectable tongue,
That might twist your life and pound hell of it’,
Should not I shunned its merit laden,
I might have rejoiced heavenly bliss than this tattered state.

My altruistic teachers caught me in fool’s paradise numerous count,
Counseled and pardoned me with sympathy all through,
I assumed this gesture fake and out of helplessness,
Oh! How ingrate creature I’m of such noble teachers?


It was I who treaded backward the direction my parents shown,
It was I who counted valuable lessons my teachers taught wrong,
Who is blameworthy for my nonconformist acts in this disciplined society?
What redemption could I have after I lied on my seemingly comfy pillow for long?

I’m not flabbergasted at total regret that bound my gloom murky world,
What sturdy heart have I that obstructed penetration of my parents’ golden advice?
 And my all knowing teachers’ authenticated matchless words?
I ostracized self and left contact far behind with blissful human society.

Can I without payback come out from animalism to humanism free of guilt?
Whom can I, if possible recline to and with what ploy for my revivification?    




 

  

      

Monday, July 8, 2013

A Burning Candle - An Autobiography

It was 2nd March 1974, the time I was born. Maybe at the time of my birth, superstition loomed and had its stronghold over my birthplace. I have small incidence to narrate to validate this statement. Some strange miscalculation of my Creator made me ill that panicked my parents greatly. That circumstance compelled my parents to take me to a Shaman for consultation regarding the reasons for my illness. The Shaman suggested that I was wholly possessed by evil spirits and that I would become alright only if I was adopted by him. It seemed my mother, for fear of my death and out of her priceless love for me as I being their first child, literally let him have his wish. Coincidentally, my health got restored. My candle of life that was almost blown off by unfriendly wind rekindled again. It might have been a moment of extreme joy for my parents.  Frankly speaking, I find it hard to believe that I was possessed and that I regained my health after being adopted. Question pertaining to this incidence still lingers over me. Nonetheless, I have his thought in mind and gratitude at heart for miracle he would have performed to cure me. I always have him in mind while saying my daily prayers. I hope I may not be misunderstood for being ungrateful by readers, not mentioning his name here. I was told that he breathe his last much before I attended three years and much before I could imprint his image in my mental slate.   
My birthplace was approximately four hours walk from dzongkhag headquarter, Pemagatshel. The uphill journey on foot was unimaginable. Having to cross countless gorges and ravines, a thick forest where the wild animals, scary and humble, hungry and filled are aplenty, and leech infested paths, even to the native villagers who cannot escape travel, the task was sedating and daunting to imagine.  Similarly, the people residing in other places, when compelled by circumstances to visit village, never stepped foot to its direction before giving several sighs. To say the least, communication was difficult to penetrate. Till late 2009, the condition of my place remained distraction for my eyes. It becomes obvious that not many people of my village are fortunate to be born with silver spoon in their mouths. Many people are deprived of the blessings of education when people in other places are claiming to have touched the ceiling of cent percent literacy rate. They are economically backward and survive from hand to mouth. 
Comparatively, I feel that my state had been better than others in my village. My father was serving in an army at Damthang, Haa. Much before I was exposed to hostile conditions of my village, I was lucky to have taken there by my father. I got an opportunity to attend my first schooling. I do not remember encountering any significant difficult situations except few incidences of bullying by senior boys, and unnecessary canning, clamping of two fingers by placing pencil in between, and pinching mercilessly on soft parts like cheek and armpit by some drunken teachers. The reasons for teachers’ punishments were not necessary and it was absolutely unquestionable. But, at home, things used to be normal. On weekends and holidays, I used to play marble game, hide and seek, go for skidding (crude form of skiing) in the snow and ice far away from home, the whole day with my friends and I quite often sacrificed my lunch for play. I treated the ecstasy I received from the company of my bosom friends as everything and denounced the punishments I received as insignificant. This golden era persisted in my childhood life till a whirlpool of wind blew over my family which resulted in my parents’ divorce. I did not know the cause and do not wish to know it now. To me, both are my parents. They still remain as my two beautiful eyes with which I see the whole world. The decision they struck together might have been taken after long discussions and contemplations.   
As a matter of fact, my mother did not have place to live in an army family line. So, she decided to leave for home that compelled me to live with my father in an army camp as I was almost mid-way through my class III in the academic session of 1985. I was then put in a different world where there were no children at all. I did not have company to play and talk. The adult company I was surrounded, even if talked, talked to tease me asking how many girlfriends I could make in school or when I will marry. Most of the time, our conversation and short interaction ended when I declined to respond to their query or run away out of shyness.  My one year stay in alien and adult world had made me almost dumb.
The following year, I was entrusted upon my distant relative at Wangdi Phodrang to give me education. When I reflect at my time with them now, I feel that I had been fortunate. It was one significant time where I had grown mentally, physically and in manner. I regret for having this realization too late. I nurtured and reposed with different feelings when I was with them. I had learnt to cook all three meals a day on Sundays and holidays, serve continuously, and interact with guests of different ranks and positions. I was asked to come home right after the school time. I was asked to complete my home tasks. I literally did not have time at my disposal for game and play. At times, I used to shed my frustration by murmuring alone in the kitchen or like a loner howling in the desert, for allotting me all the works.  Varied and strange thoughts overcast my world. At difficult times, I even blamed my parents by relating my bad luck upon their deeds. I rejoiced at people’s praises of seeing greatness in me as I was displaying perfect manner in front of them. In the midst of imbalanced and undetermined journey, I completed my class VIII from Wangdi Junior High School in 1990. When the initial part of my candle exhausted, I was tossed hither and thither by the wind of disappointment and warmth of satisfaction.
People say boarding life is where we lose our freedom. But, to me this sounds just the opposite. I found boarding life, starting from class IX till the completion of my degree at Sherubtse College, more than freedom: no cooking, no washing except what is ours, no disturbance while playing and absolutely no one bothering us while studying. In fact, whole circumference of time was with us that made us difficult at times to justify the time we had allotted for different programmes.
The crux of the matter I wish to share through this short autobiography is not to talk of all these but to talk of how I survived all evil designs to elevate myself to the present stage. Since my early till the late boarding life I had encountered friends; who tried to cast evil thoughts in me so that I could be an accomplice in their evil acts, who tried to help me through thick and thin, who came to me to learn and who made me learn through them. I also came across friends, who were into gambling, alcoholism, consuming tobacco and tobacco products, truancy, and fight. I had one bed neighbor who had problem in waking up early and who used to get furious at me if he found me having left for morning study without him. As frequency of late rising became accumulated, warden was rendered helpless to whack him for three consecutive mornings. The worst thing was that, on the third day, warden warned me by saying he would have no sympathy with me if he saw me near him anymore. He even rubbed his polished stick over my nose. I was so scared that I could not think of staying back without reason. It became a nightmarish experience to avail permission to lounge in hostel even when sick.
In my pre-university level in Sherubtse College too, I was not spared of bad companies. Surprisingly, my first roommate who was one year senior to me happened to be one drug addict. Every evening study time, he used to vanish from the hostel. When he came back late evening, he used to come off balance. If I hadn’t stored and readied his share of dinner, he used to seriously send me out to get him anything from anywhere. When I did it, he never had strength to hold plate most of the times. My thought of feeding him went waste quite often. Anyway, almost like one appointed to cater him, I did my service of storing any edible items available in the mess on the particular evening. What he had done to me was little ragging, if I may share it from adults’ perspective. But, as simple roommate then, I never had this feeling.
One late evening when everybody went into deep sleep in the comfort of darkness, when only howling of the dogs was heard from a distance, he took me silently through the thickly grown bushes. He signaled me to hide. I followed him without a word. He ultimately asked me to pluck the fruits and pick few leaves and grind it hard in between my palms. I did it. After few moments, he appreciated me saying that what I had done was more than perfect and extracted something from my palm by scratching it with his fingernails. After rolling that extract into round marble shape, he told me whether I want to try out the magic. He tried to persuade me by reiterating that it would give peace and calmness to a person. He quite often deflected me from studying snatching my book telling me that I need not wreck my head unnecessarily. Instead, he suggested me to study little before examination taking the magic pills he would prescribe for me. He tried his best to influence me and convert me as his follower forcibly. I was lucky I could remain unmoved like a solid rock.
I thank my Guardian Deity for placing me as his roommate. Had it been someone other than me, anything could have happened to that unfortunate person; he would have fallen easy prey to his temptation, he would have considered the senior as authoritative and sought opportunity to swap room, he would not have tolerated his bullying and ragging nature that ultimately would have flared up into wild fire and the matter would have exploded and gone beyond the four walls of the room. I know inexperienced roommate, howsoever strong and determined to challenge him physically, would not be his match as he was a seasoned fighter. The moment I heard of fight, be it between individuals, or in groups, one person would always be him. He used to come to room, caught by few well-wishers, sometimes profusely bleeding from nose and sometimes with bruises all over his face and chest. One night he crept out of room in silence and banged our neighbor’s room so hard. I could not help but to go out and see. On seeing me, he shouted at me to bring the sickle which we usually keep it on our locker. Councilor, who was equally shocked like me and others, of the wild noise, had to come out for intervention and to calm him down to sleep. The next afternoon he was looking fresh, I dug out the incidence that led him to that wild and scary behavior. He was simply laughing which made me conclude that he simply might have had nightmare.              
My time with friends was both garlands of experience and burning sensation of travelling through infernos. I now realize that had my Creator not implanted in me an extraordinary power of resistance that could resist and overcome the snare of temptation unfurled everywhere I stepped, I would have fallen prey to my seniors or to my level friends. I was in a susceptible stage in many ways; I was without the armour that parents used to bequeath to their child through parental guidance, I had come out of suppression of my strict guardian where I suffocated immensely and hence I could have, unaware made deafening cry into air to release pressure, and I laid bare against cold and icy hands of peer negative pressure. The world I was in then was no better than dungeon where people suffer.  I suffered numerous temptations.
Though I did not have my parents near me, I had the feelings, always with me, that I was from a broken family and that I would not have any luxury to waste time and resource like others. This thought guided me all through the journey of my education. It gave me strong urge to excel in studies to do well in life to make one proud that one could do well even without the support of parents. It does give me proud. I shared this on many occasions and wish to share this to people with pride. I do not know who installed this value in me. Whoever it is, I must say, has given me the coffer of treasure that I loved dearly and would have protected and preserved even at the cost of my life.  Whoever it is, has given me, which I like to call it, whether right or wrong, ‘extraordinary power of resistance’. What I am now is all because of this peerless value. I think it is not apt to leave my talk here. Let me bring out the significance and essence of my burning candle.
I was exposed to strange world where any friend would have been necessary. But, I chose not to accept friends without letting the ones pass through the test of sieve. I championed and protected my burning candle against all hostilities. At this stage, I see my burning candle having almost reached its equator (half). I understand that I was not the only person hailing from divorced parents. As teacher, as assistant principal and principal, I have seen many children from broken and bereaved families. I have also had equal count of abandoned, disadvantaged and orphaned children. As a matter of fact, I see children who are less as well as more vulnerable than my state. I have come to learn that their mood becomes fragile and susceptible to negative influence. The frequency of mood swing in them far exceeds mine. They undergo tremendous mental agony. They feel as if they are walking through the sharp jigsaw edge of a saw which inflict unbearable pain. They feel like jumping off to the place which outwardly seems safe to land. Some already jumped and regrettably bartered seventh heaven for fool’s paradise. I feel some students have reached the stage where rectification by mere words is impossible. Like my preceding paragraphs, succeeding paragraphs too may hardly make sense to persons like them. They may easily shun my words as idiosyncrasy.  My energy too is too precious to waste on persons who do not heed.
I do not either have psychological prescriptions to the ones who are clinging on like cat on the wall or undergoing mental dilemma. I just have to remind them to peruse my brief life history and cling on to one good value. Chant that value every time they come across a person with boneless tongue who could create hell of heaven and heaven of hell.  Those persons are to be avoided thinking that they are wolf in sheep’s skin. Refuse their approach for every stride they make towards you, they would poison your mind and block the outlet of your rationality. I implore you to try these out for even if it doesn’t prove effective, I assure you it wouldn’t harm you either. I have learnt that parental and elderly guidance are important but consolidating one’s own mind is indispensable. Everybody dreams, judges, and concludes about others based on what one is. God’s state is great. It might not have created man, when God first created man, to make him revolt against self or to make him grow as a destructive force of the world. Understand it and indulge in action that would make you worthy of God’s creation. Whether you follow it or not would depend upon how strong the feeling of narcissism rooted in you.     
I have lived my life and as mentioned earlier reached contented half. I have now become the father of three children. I stand highly fortified. Human greed, vices, tricks, threats may surely not find strength to match its fortification. However, before the flame of light reaches the snuff, I must confess that the unfriendly winds try to blow me off. Likewise, the diseases with different tentacles suck the vital juice of my vital organs threatening my very existence. Still, I tell with assurance and reiteration I can brave both human and natural hazards.
I no longer wish to hop to different professions. I have joined my teaching profession not out of options, as many people say, but my love for teaching and love for students. Throughout the length of my service for children, I would follow the invaluable advice imprinted in me by my Chief Guru, Chief Abbot,  His Holiness Gyeltse Jigme Tenzin Wangpo, reincarnation of His Holiness Gyalse Tenzin Rabgay: not to be self-centered in your service to humanity, not to indulge in corrupt practices, not to have even in your wildest dream about slight feelings of doing what is forbidden by law of the Kingdom, serve tsa-wa-sum with dedication and sincerity of body, mind and soul. Place your King above everything else. There is no equal match ever born. You must treat everyone the same.
Your Holiness, You know how much I revere You. It is too precious to forget a syllable you have bestowed upon me to bless my being. I would not forget YOU and those words of guidance. I would treasure it at heart and carry it forward as my guide till my last feeble flame puffs off into the air. I wish to share it with the ones who may need it and value it. I wish to tread on with it beyond the boundary of my life, but only God knows whether I may have the boon of it. I wish to have my final slumber, in the tender, spongy, cozy and breezy arms of my Creator, after accomplishing my missions! May I be blessed!  
         
Note: Written for my students who have reached the crossroad of Hope Way and Dope Way. Careful reading may give them idea to tread through hope way. And those not travelled far through dope way too may get little idea to turn back and have redemption.          

       
         
           

     

Friday, June 28, 2013

What is Baylling for?

Baylling is a dream school. Though dreamers are unaware, dream appears to them. In the like manner, the school like Baylling was born. Since its inception in 2004, Baylling has been a refinery to many fortunate aspirant leaders. The mixed raw materials of good, mediocre and without exception bad or students, who could not discover their talents, joined our school. No matter what the raw materials were, they have been put to refinery and steered it appropriately until they came out in the form of polished products. Many students, who came here without any goal initially, graduated from Baylling HSS gaining mental maturity, wholly aware of their talents, and as custodian of their own destiny. It is a dream, even to its inmates, to hear Baylling reverberating far and wide despite being literally tender in age.
The recent school ranking, by our Ministry, that made us see our school in the first tenth position gave natural and boundless flow of joy through the veins of every Baylling family. This is not the first time. We are not surprised. The pleasure and joy that filled our state today is because of the fact that we have got an opportunity to see our school in the list of top ten schools consecutively for many years. We feel that the ordeal we are put to is passed without doubt. To tell the truth, we have reached the stage where we can be considered ‘indomitable’. This word may make readers deduce that we are satisfied with our performance. Experience tells us that once we reach satisfaction level, our enthusiasm for performance declines. Should anyone be engulfed with this notion, we must contradict it by asserting that we are not satisfied. Rather we believe, our fresh stride measuring new progress, as just a beginning. Like Alfred Tennyson, we feel ‘all experiences as an arch where through gleams that untraveled world, whose margin fades forever and forever when we move’.         We are aware that we have greater challenges ahead: challenge to retain same position, challenge to meet expectations, and challenge to provide good guidance to students. 

But we stand firm. No topic of impossibility, if there is at all, will dissuade us from seeking our pursued dreams. We have high dreams. We encourage our members to dream high and crave to attend it. The recent announcement of early mid-term break by MoE did give us little time to think, but altogether we are not unprepared. Early or late does not make any difference to us.  We are prepared for quality performance anytime. We provide forum to students to authenticate their learning with practical experience. We experiment, do and redo matters to exhume facts. We explore and provide new arenas for learning and discovery. This is always our top priority and will remain so. 

We may not be able to produce great brain like Albert Einstein, ever Physicist like Sir Isaac Newton, courageous astronaut like Neil Armstrong, greatest pure mathematician like Pythagoras, etc. now and in the near future. However, no matter how exhausted we become, what sacrifices we may have to make in our endeavour, we will never rest until we produce an individual: who nurtures and nourishes unparalleled admiration for the work of great human beings, who harbours an inspiration that inspired the nerves of all undisputed great men and who exudes willingness to pursue the footpaths of great discoverers.


These are Baylling’s pledges!

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Paean to Baylling Higher Secondary School

Baylling HSS, I have heard of thy name,
Long era I came to thee,
I have enjoyed the pleasure that I cannot share,
But enjoys in silence and seclusion.
On 4th March 2009, could I open my sense from deep slumber,
To see and feel the deep luster of reality,
Difference in dream and reality learnt,
Dumbfounded have I become to embrace truth of Baylling.
How lovely a place is, except for little cold?
Surrounded by opulent vegetation, traditional village setting,
Legendary lakhangs, majestic dzong and human beings with human heart,
Baylling is like telescope used by Galileo to study stars.
Scholastic figures, curious hearts, lending minds and helping hands,
Are the living lives of Baylling HSS,
The weapons of cooperation, family feelings, sense of unity are lances,
That can penetrate thru’ the hardest obstruction against education.
All students and teachers are my protection,
All I prostrate and pray are to appease and harness more strength,
That I shall, I shall,
With sincere devotion of my heart and soul!
Baylling already has a name so great,
In the history of education of Bhutan,
Its luminous radiant shining ever in the sky like northern star,
Its victory flag fluttering ever higher, higher than all wishers could aspire.
It is a solace to rest with music of peace,
It is thirst quenching to drink the cool water of success,
But alas! Live of solace, peace and success is like short-lived daffodils,
Knowing this we ought to keep our eyes of sense open even while asleep.
Walk with precaution, enemies with icy-cold hands are abound,
Let us whet our knowledge, and maintain its perpetual sharpness,
Let us cleanse our defilement with prayers and seek refuge in the land of Almighty,
You and I, joining hands, receiving spiritual blessings can make Baylling a sacred place for learning.

-          Dedicated to all Baylling families

Unrequited Love

‘Karma is coming home today for her break’, said Karma’s mother to Lodhen. Though, Karma’s full name was karma Euden, she was called as Karma most of the time by her family members. Lodhen’s happiness knew no bound. He was almost dying to meet Karma Euden, his heart throb. Six months of separation seemed to him like six years. Since the day he saw her, he had fallen in head over heal for Karma Euden. Strange coincidence brought them together. 

Lodhen was in Pelri College to pursue his degree course. One day, Lodhen and his friends took a short stroll towards the canteen, owned by one Indian labourer. On the way they came across a man who looked almost in his late 50s. Spotting that man, Lodhen got sudden gush of urge to ask him where he was going and where he was staying. The man answered him that he was going to shop for purchase of necessary items and that he was staying above the canteen. He also invited Lodhen and others to his place on weekends. He added that he worked in Pelri college long time back as night guard. 

Whenever we meet someone, we offer them something like ara, doma, chocolate or at the least our words expressing our wish to offer but having nothing at that instant. That is our Bhutanese civility. But, Lodhen took that beyond what we could understand. He decided to go to that man’s place. He wasted no time. The very next day he climbed up for about fifteen minutes through the heart of the canteen to reach that man’s place. Following the direction and description given by that man he did not have slightest confusion in locating the same house. The house was a bamboo hut surrounded by green and tall maize plants. The path leading to the door was clean and had beautifully bloomed flowers on both sides. The air was fresh. It was really welcoming. He treaded cautiously wondering what to tell on seeing that man and his family members in their house. Suddenly there was a barking sound of a small dog. Then, sound of a girl was heard. Soon a girl came out and showed her best smile to Lodhen. Lodhen was mesmerized. In his last 20 years, he never remembered having seen a girl so beautiful like her. The smile she bore on her face was so fresh and clear that made her look like moon on the full moon night. Lodhen felt that if she was seen on clear full moon night, people would find it hard to differentiate her from the actual moon. Later, it is this unique appearance of Karma that propelled Lodhen to compose a poem linking her to the moon… thy moon-like face freshens and brightens the gloom underworld, my native abode, wavy picture flashing close to my eyes, of natural beauty I never had drunk, O! thou dark-dispelling moon!.... The words she uttered were so sweet like pure honey. Lodhen could not help but to think that she was damsel from fairy land having come to deliver him from this problematic world to the harmonious heaven. 
She implored him to come into her house with a beautiful twist of her soft tongue inside her petal- like lips. The way she walked was elegant. Lodhen noted every move she made. He wanted to learn more of her so he thought of holding her little more for fear that he might not get chance to talk once inside, in presence of her parents and relatives. He asked, ‘Are your parents inside? I have come to meet your father… the surrounding area is beautiful… and peaceful, and so on’. Her response came to him as a relief. She responded, ‘No, they have gone to the jungle to collect firewood’. Lodhen summoned his courage to go in. He became awe-struck to see the bamboo hut on the exterior decorated with thankas, Bhutanese traditional paintings, small altar filled with statues and portraits of great enlightened beings in its interior. Lodhen thought that even if there was heaven he would see only that many Gods and Goddesses. He was enthralled.

He saw one cute boy who was Karma Euden’s brother. He was just 2 year old but in speech and action, he seemed matured than many elderly persons. He greeted Lodhen and offered him to sit. Within short interval, Karma brought a steaming cup of tea. It was that cute little brother who asked Lodhen to drink.  Thanks to the generosity of the family.  Lodhen drank it without leaving even the last drop. He thought even if it wasn’t sugar tea, the tea would have tasted sweet. Through their short interaction, Lodhen came to learn that she was student of Samcholing HSS and that she was studying in class X. Lodhen asked her whether she used to come home during breaks and vacations. He also asked whether she would be coming home that winter vacation. ‘Yes, I will come home. Where would I go? I have not found better home than my parents’ home,’ said Karma. Lodhen almost asked her whether she would be happy to see him in her house when she came home for her next break. However, they could not continue, as her brother reminded them about their parents’ arrival. Both of them remained mute. 

Seeing father, tired and filled with sweat on his forehead, Lodhen told him that they might have gone too far to collect firewood. Father greeted him and told him that they did not get firewood easily. Lodhen apologized them that he had come for stroll but accidentally encroached their territory. Both father and mother were kind-hearted and told Lodhen in one voice, to come any time he got free. Lodhen was highly gratified at their kind gesture. 

Day after day, he paid visit to Karma’s family with frequency of both visit and stay increasing every day. Long before it was time for Karma to leave for her school, Lodhen had become a regular visitor. The desire to see her became uncontrollable. With each passing day, Lodhen felt more enchanted by her grace, sweetness of words, manner and artistic at household chores. Lodhen wished that Karma had finished her studies and that she needn’t go back. That was a mere wish. Soon, time for departure knocked Karma’s door. She was getting ready with her belongings. Lodhen standing near her said, ‘Do you know how much I will miss you because I have started loving you’. ‘Yes, I know that. You can come to my school to see me sometimes,’ she laughed. ‘Let us talk about it later,’ she said as she started carrying her baggage. Her father came and offered his help. She denied by saying that it was very light. Lodhen snatched her bag and told her and father to lead the way to the bus stop. They waited for an hour seeing each other’s face. Words chocked on Lodhen’s throat while trying to speak. She might have felt the same or different, she did not speak either. In the mean time, bus arrived and she boarded on to it. Before the bus moved away, she handed him one chit in presence of her father. 
Lodhen became impatient. The urge to read its content was irresistible. He parted from her father saying that he was going to hostel. Before reaching hostel, he opened the chit to unfold her words: ‘Lodhen, I am grateful. Do whatever you can to help my poor parents continuously. I’ll never forget’. Lodhen was overjoyed and at the same time regretted the ensuing two days for he could not express his genuine feelings for her.

After three days, Lodhen paid a visit to her parents. Mother narrated him a story about how Karma neared death and how they had to take her for heart treatment when she touched just 3 years. Mother added that they did not have hope of seeing her serving the government as civil servant. She rather expressed her wish to look for a caring husband who would not mind spending any amount for her treatment. This story inflicted pain that could not be described, and made Lodhen even more sympathetic towards her.  Lodhen was about to ask whether he could promise in front of them that he would do every possible thing to fulfill their wish when mother herself suggested him whether he could do it. What could be the response of Lodhen who was waiting to express this himself to her parents?  As asked by Karma through her chit, Lodhen helped her parents in doing almost everything: from ploughing to sowing seeds, from grazing cattle to milking cows, and from going shopping to collecting firewood. He worked like a real member of the house. In fact, Lodhen did more than what Karma’s hesitant words could communicate.

Time and again, Lodhen used to receive letter from Karma. No matter how she wrote the main content, the conclusion of her letter always used to be ‘I’m indebted to you and would remain so forever…yours truly.’ Every time he received letter from her, he became light-footed, more motivated and interested in remaining with her parents. The winter approached. Lodhen was eagerly waiting to see her. She came home, this time more graceful than earlier at least to Lodhen. She spoke expressively. The way she described things was highly poetic. Lodhen loved the words she coined and the sentences she constructed. Seeing small word written by her scattered, Lodhen wondered how she concluded and whether anything was written for him. He used to have unparallel joy, if he discovered something of him in it. In the midst of drinking her sight to quench his thirst, time approached for Lodhen to leave for home. Throughout the journey, he was dreaming of Karma Euden. When awake, he used to see himself near Karma in her house and when asleep, he used to see her near him. He was reminded several times by his friend sitting next to him for laughing hysterically in his sleep. 
Two days later, Lodhen reached his parents’ place. He found his parents’ home totally devoid of interest. He lost appetite.  He did not have peaceful sleep. He felt that he was being haunted by some curious phenomenon. He, no more enjoyed the company of his parents and relatives. Their presence did not make much sense to him. He was lost in dreams almost all the time. His parents suggested him to go and see doctor. But, he convinced them that he was alright. Days reckoned for months and months for years. He was thinking when would his two months break end so that he could go back and meet Karma. Literally, he was striking off the date and day from his calendar, early in the morning to count the number of days left.  The thought of completing his break gave him little solace. The reason for his sickness was ‘love’. 
Finally, his long wait to meet her came to an end. He met her. They became inseparable. They spent time together almost like married couples. However, there came a twist in their story. A fresh batch of students from different schools joined college in class XI. One day, while Lodhen was going to his hostel, Karma caught his hand and handed him one letter addressed to one boy in class XI. She told him that they were good friends in their former school. Lodhen, who had no inkling of doubt carried out her errand. Next time too, he was asked to deliver a letter to the same person. He took from her hand but reaching the mid-way his mind got lured by the devil of temptation to tamper and read it. On going through it, Lodhen came to learn about the intimate relationship between them. At first, Lodhen could not react. Ultimately, he decided to dig out the truth from her. He went back and told her that he delivered her letter and asked her whether she had any special message for him. She said it was a normal friend letter. Lodhen knew the best. In fact, Lodhen had seen this world more than her. In age, in experience and in education, Lodhen surpassed her. It wasn’t a normal letter. Lodhen prompted her by saying even if it was any special thing there was no reason for her to feel guilty. She asked Lodhen whether he heard anything about them. Lodhen nodded. 
She then narrated the story of how that boy approached her and how she refused his approach, and many more which Lodhen did not take note of. She assured Lodhen that she would harbor no more relationship of any sort with that boy. Lodhen remained unmoved which made her feel that Lodhen was hurt. She shed tears. Amidst tears, she was pleading Lodhen not to get hurt…no special link…nothing,… if parents knew…disappointed… in her unusual expression  and her poetry broken. She pleaded him that if Lodhen wished she would even try to plug stars from heaven and bring precious stones from the depth of the ocean. She shared her true feelings to Lodhen for the first time by saying ‘Lodhen, you won’t believe me, in fact, I love you more than you do’. By patting on her shoulder Lodhen said, ‘I know that’. Lodhen assured her that he would forgive her and that her parents would not know about this incidence at any cost. Lodhen was expressing truth. He would not let her parents know this. This was beyond the permissible range of his pious heart. He only thought of the ways to make these two young innocent hearts unite. 
Once, Lodhen met that boy and asked him whether he had time to accompany him to Karma’s house. He accepted at once. They went together and Lodhen introduced him as his friend to the parents of Karma. Lodhen gave time for that boy to get acquainted with Karma’s family. All through, Karma tried to be with Lodhen and tried her best to make him speak to her. However, Lodhen averted her gradually. Lodhen reduced the frequency of visiting her house. Once her father even stepped into the room in his hostel to ask what happened to him and why he was not coming to their place. Lodhen replied in normal ways saying ‘Apa, these days I have lots of assignments to be completed and lot many things to prepare for my examinations. I will come little later. How can I be so ungrateful to forget your hospitality so easily? How can a child forget his own parents? You all have become my second parents.’ Lodhen found it difficult to resist his temptation to visit her house. Against his wish, he had to decide to visit Karma’s house once and for all. She asked Lodhen, ‘What the hell has come upon you? Why have you changed? Have you forgotten your promise?’ Lodhen simply replied, ‘Take care of Namdrup, he has a heart of gold’. ‘I knew you never loved me right from the beginning,’ retorted Karma. ‘You are clever to know about me before things became too late. I am sorry for trying to play with your life’, submitted Lodhen.
While moving back to his hostel he muttered, ‘You are wrong, my dear Karma, gravely wrong, my love is eternal, its unfathomable abyss directs me to let you loose to go with your love’. Lodhen’s courage to relinquish his own heart throb calls to mind Socrates’ philosophy: ‘To the one whom you love, you must be in position to give him poison, if asked for’.  What could anyone in poor Lodhen’s shoes do? In the other fronts, Lodhen would have so many reckonings. But, in the battlefront of love, Lodhen accepted defeat. Yet, he remained satisfied that he could accrue one merit of uniting two young hearts.                               
    Note: The persons, places and incidences mentioned in the above story are fictitious. Any 
                resemblance to any one is purely coincidence.   


Saturday, June 8, 2013

My Life With My Students

Satchel on the back, walking to and fro, in rain and shine, with incomplete home works and indescribable fear of reprimand by subject teachers, ten years of my junior school life came to an end in 1989. End of those years meant the dawn of next school life which was strewn with different hues. My life then was exposed to different opportunities and challenges. Attending two or three classes a day, going for a walk, witnessing literary activities, watching ball games, celebrating victories with laughter and regretting at failures – it was my life with adult learners. I had seen many seniors graduating with flying colors and many coming back to redo their examinations. My own successes gave me strength to move on and hardships or failures, mostly when I could not do as much as others could do, I used to sojourn to ask myself, ‘why am I finding it difficult to do like him or her?’ or ‘why are we not born equal?’ I had endured five years of hardships and celebrated equal years of glory at Sherubtse College.
As we did not have counselor or teacher for career education, no one, not even our teachers taught us to have goals in our life. So, it was obvious, I did not have any while walking out of college. I was alone with only thought of going to meet my parents. Incidentally, upon reaching Phuentsholing, where my parents resided, I was told that Pasakha PS was in need of temporary teacher. I took advantage of that situation and availed one place as temporary teacher. It was not teaching but fun being with small kids. Listening to the narration of how their parents fought at home, how their mother scratched father like cats, how quietly they sat crouched on one corner, adorned my life with pleasure. Some described about how their brother or sister got annoyed while playing and pelted stone at them which made them come to school with bandaged head. My interest in listening to their stories soon made me their best teacher. Some of them even tried to describe me through their imperfect art and distorted words. I was stuffed with ample reasons to join teaching.  Adequate or inadequate, I completed my one year of training to teach students from National Institute of Education, Samtse in 1999. I was posted to school the following year. I remember teaching classes IX and X in my first year. I was novice and nervous. I was little behind in content, experience, understanding students’ need and use of strategies when compared to other experienced colleagues. Yet, I was bent on improving any strength and increasing any energy for my students. It did not take long for me to understand that my students were my primary customers. I did work constantly.
It was during those upheavals, I had heard friends complaining of indiscipline students, of students’ poor performance, of students’ disrespect to teachers. Quite often we came together to discuss about students having drunk and fought with friends. The disciplinary actions were sanctioned depending upon the severity of offences. I had witnessed an awkward situation of some students getting thrashed black and blue by principal in the morning assembly. I had seen students getting suspended for months. However, that actions or sanctions did not dissuade others from indulging in transgressions. Much before suspended students came back from home; same forbidden actions were repeated by other students prompting teachers to meet again.  It was unfortunate. I thought there must be an end to everything one day.
Three years of my teaching experiences and working attitude gave some confidence to my principal, Mr. Karma Dhendup, present Drungpa of Sombaykha, Haa, to recommend me for the post of Assistant Principal. By the grace of God and my friends’ prayer, I got through the interview and got appointed as assistant principal. Working as assistant principal for one year, I did not see much difference in my school and my work. As usual, teaching, sitting for the review meeting, discussing about poor performance of students, and talking of students with problems – the same old story. Only difference, if I may be frank, was meeting principal in his chamber directly and talk of things going on, knowing matters little earlier than other friends.
I saw dramatic change since I assumed my post of principal. Small accomplishment, victory, words of praise makes me elated and little unpleasant words about school and its inmates pricks my heart and inflicts inexplicable pain. I feel I am the real owner of my school. I fear and make constant prayer that no untoward incidence occur among students, among teachers, between teachers and students, between administration and teachers, between administration and students, and likewise between our school and other organizations. I watch and enjoy, as though I was watching scenic beauty, seeing teachers working smoothly and students ardently preparing for their lives. I get peace of mind and get peaceful sleep when no eruption of volcano-like problems, occasions where heated arguments among cross-sectional society occur. But, this prayer, even if granted, is momentary. What we wished not to happen happens – misunderstanding crops-up, students indulge in drink spree, join drugs gang, vandalize property and harbor less fear of examinations. All these make to live in constant fear and skepticism. At this juncture, I am reminded of Thomas Hardy who said: “Happiness is but an occasional episode in the general drama of pain”. Like him, I feel problem that inflicts ceaseless pain in men continues.
My other mind says that matter will turn up better one day. If our old saying, ‘everything that began has an end’ be true, even the problems encircling human beings will end. I get little assurance of this when I reflect on how some of my students got up from their revolving chairs seeing us entering, how some of them bowed down while we passed by them and how some of them even saluted us with words in their army uniform. They have realized their mistakes. The times when they were monkeying in school have long entered oblivion. They are transformed. Great work, Yonten, you must continue! 

-          My diary collection