The Enigmatic Monarch

Six  decades  ago,  the  course  of  a  tiny  Himalayan  Kingdom  was  about  to  be changed  forever.  In  a  cold  wintry  day  in  the  capital  of  the  Kingdom,  a young  Prince  was  born  whose  birth,  legend  has  it,  was  the  fulfillment  of  a prophecy.  The  birth  of  this  young  Prince  marked  an  event  so  historic  that its  full  importance  would  not  become  fully  evident  until  the  young  Prince took  the  realms  of  His  nation.   

The  Kingdom  of  Bhutan  is  a  mystical  place  to  many  outsiders,  earning itself  the  title  of  being  one  of  the  last  hidden  Shrangri-las  in  the  world. Visitors  are  often  awed  by  her  scenic  natural  beauty,  her  pristine environment  and  the  ambience  of  the  rich  cultural  heritage  preserved  by her  people  –  be  it  in  the  form  of  the  magnificent  architecture  that  blends in  with  the  wildlife  or  the  unique  traditional  dresses  adorned  by  the people.  Many  describe  Bhutan  as  a  nation  whose  one  foot  is  steeped deeply  in  its  ancient  past  while  the  other  moves  forward  into  modernity. Few  visitors,  however,  realize  that  this  balance  between  embracing modernization  while  preserving  and  upholding  our  rich  cultural  values and  the  conservation  of  environment  is  no  accident  but  the  result  of decades  of  careful,  cautious  planning  and  implementation  of  policies guided  by  one  of  Bhutan’s  most  visionary  monarchs,  His  Majesty  the Great  Fourth,  Druk  Gyalpo  Jigme  Singye  Wangchuck.   

The  sixth  day  of  November  in  the  year  2006  marked  the  culmination  of the  34  year-old  reign  of  His  Majesty  the  Fourth  Druk  Gyalpo  when  His Majesty  formally  handed  over  the  responsibilities  of  King  to  His  son,  the Crown  Prince  at  a  Cabinet  meeting  in  the  capital,  Thimphu.  It  was  a   grave  day  for  the  people  of    Bhutan    for  they  had  not  expected  His Majesty  to  step  down  so  early  at  the  age  of  51  and  who    had  always prayed  for  His  long  reign  and  life.  After  all,  the  country  and  people  had seen   unparalleled   growth   and   development   under   His Majesty’s  stewardship.  To  the  Bhutanese  people,  it  was  as  if  suddenly,  the  nation’s father  had  decided  to  go  on  a  hermitage  –  the  country  was  shocked  and  in mourning,  and  perhaps  even  dazzled.  The  people  had  not  seen  this  coming and  few  could  have  guessed  it.  But  it  seemed  like  the  visionary  leader  had it  planned  carefully  and  planned  it  rather  well.  The  first  hints  of  this  were given  not  a  few  years  ahead  but  many  years  ago,  as  far  back  as  two decades  earlier  when  the  process  of  decentralization  had  been  initiated with  the  establishment  of  the  Dzongkhag  Yargay  Tshogdus  in  1981  under the  Royal  Charter.  A  decade  later  in  1991,  the  power  was  further  delved away  from  the  central  government  to  the  people  by  strengthening  local governance  with  the  establishment  of  Gewog  Yargay  Tshogchungs  in 1991  once  again  under  His  Majesty’s  command.  A  couple  of  years  later and  His  Majesty  decided  to  devolve  all  His  executive  functions  to  a Council  of  Ministers  elected  by  the  people’s  representatives  themselves  in the  National  Assembly  in  1998.  And  finally  in  2001,  His  Majesty  decreed the  formation  of  the  Constitution  Drafting  Committee  beginning  the process  of  ushering  in  formal  democracy  in  Bhutan.  We  had  all  witnessed these  historic  events  under  His  Majesty’s  guidance  but  few  could  have predicted  that  His  Majesty  was  ultimately  planning  on  completely handing  over  the  reign  of  the  nation  to  the  people.  But  then  again,  one  can hardly  be  expected  to  align  one’s  narrow-minded  pursuits  to  the  foresight of  a  visionary  leader  like  His  Majesty.   

To  the  outside  world,  and  even  to  the  Bhutanese  people  themselves,  this ultimate  act  of  giving  away  one’s  power  and  one’s    position  as  the  King of  a  nation  seemed  astounding,  especially  during  an  age  when  leaders around  the  world  try  desperately  to  cling  on  to  power,  manipulating legislature  and  rallying  the  masses,  sometimes  even  establishing  their dynasties  on  heaps  of  human  corpses.  At  a  time  when  most  countries  in the  world  witnessed  revolutions  against  established  institutions  of  power for their removal, the stark contrast of such a move was hard to take in. After  all,  here  was  a  King,  still  in  His  early  fifties  and  abdicating absolutely  voluntarily,  in  fact  against  the  popular  wishes  of  His  loyal subjects  and  urging  His  people  to  accept  the  change  and  help  Him  in  this transformation  to  a  democratic  government.  It  was  an  unprecedented event,  a  historic  event. 

I  often  wondered  what  must  go  on  in  the  minds  of  our  monarchs  when they  make  those  crucial  decisions  on  behalf  of  the  whole  country  and  the people.  We  must  remember  that  His  Majesty  ascended  the  Golden  Throne at  the  tender  age  of  17  in  1972  with  the  sudden  demise  of  His  Majesty  the Third  Druk  Gyalpo.  While  most  seventeen  year  olds  would  be  busy  trying to  handle  the  pain  of  their  first  heartbreaks  and  revolting  their  parents  and society,  His  Majesty  was  thrust  forward  to  the  helm  of  power  at  a  time when  not  only  had  He  lost  his  own  father  but  the  whole  nation  was grieving  the  loss  of  the  Father  of  Modern  Bhutan  with  Him  and  He  was expected  to  console  all  of  them  and  lead  the  country.  Yes,  He  had  been made  aware  of  Him  being  the  Crown  Prince  and  that  someday  He  would have  to  take  over  the  realms  of  His  father  but  to  be  given  that responsibility  at  the  tender  age  of  17,  that  was  a  tall  order  indeed  even  for a  groomed  crown  prince.  Needless  to  say,  His  Majesty  carried  himself perfectly  well.  Today,  when  the  government  machinery  is  so  well established,  when  technology  is  at  its  best,  running  a  nation  seems  not much  of  difficult  task.  But  times  then  were  different.  His  Majesty  the Third  Druk  Gyalpo  had  hardly  opened  Bhutan’s  doors  to  the  outside world  and  begun  the  process  of  modernization.  There  were  very  few Bhutanese  who  were  educated  in  the  art  of  diplomacy  or  statecraft  and  the government  as  we  know  it  today  hardly  existed.  These  were  times  when  a government  circular  from  Thimphu  would  take  days  if  not  weeks  to  reach the  far  flung  government  outposts  and  traveling  to  and  from  Bhutan  was  a nightmare.  Despite  this,  the  sweeping  changes  and  reforms  that  were initiated  and  executed  under  His  Majesty's  command  were  profoundly important!  

Here  I  am,  a  21  year  old  medical  student  who  find  passing  my  exams  a daunting  task  and  the  prospect  of  having  to  plan  my  future  dizzying.  His Majesty  was  much  younger  when  He  became  the  supreme  leader  of  our nation  and  had  to  plan  the  whole  country's  future.  There  is  a  saying  in Dzongkha  that  when  a  group  succeeds,  the  leader  is  praised,  and  likewise when  it  fails  the  leader  must  take  responsibility.  For  most  of  us Bhutanese,  the  journey  has  been  so  smooth  that  we  often  take  history  for granted  and  forget  to  appreciate  the  extraordinary  circumstances  we survived  as  a  nation  state.  During  His  Majesty's  life  time,  the  world  has changed  so  much  and  even  close  at  home  in  South  Asia,  so  many transformations  occurred,  some  so  profound  that  it  changed  the  face  of  the South  Asian  map  forever.  Around  the  time  of  His  Majesty's  birth,  just north  of  our  border,  the  marching  People's  Liberation  Army  of  China engulfed  Tibet.  We  saw  the  birth  of  Bangladesh  as  a  country  in  1971.  In 1975,  the  Kingdom  of  Sikkim  failed  as  a  state  and  voluntarily  ceded  to  the Indian  Union.  Beginning  in  the  early  1980s,  our  island  neighbor  down south,  Sri  Lanka  saw  itself  caught  in  a  civil  war  and  nearly  a  decade  later the  flames  of  civil  war  hit  closer  to  home  in  Nepal  too.  India  and  Pakistan fought  at  least  three  wars  since  His  Majesty's  enthronement.  So  within just  a  few  decades,  Bhutan  stood  amidst  a  lot  of  turmoil  in  her neighborhood,  untouched  and  unaffected  by  it  all.  In  fact,  some  might even  say  that  it  took  a  leisurely  stroll  down  the  development  path  while the  world  around  it  was  thrown  into  chaos.  But  this  was  only  possible  due to  the  strong  figure  of  His  Majesty  looming  protectively  above  us.  It  was His  Majesty's  tactful  foreign  policy  handling  and  sound  developmental policies  back  home  that  kept  us  safe  throughout.  

 A  lot  of  professions  can  be  taught  and  learnt;  there  were  many  doctors before  me,  so  it's  easy  for  me  to  be  trained  as  one  now.  Universities  offer courses  to  become  architects,  engineers,  journalists,   physicist, accountants  and  many  more  but  one  cannot  expect  a  University  to  teach the art of running a state, or more importantly to run  a  nation as unique  as  Bhutan.  So  in  the  face  of  this,  what  His  Majesty  has  accomplished  is nothing  short  of  miraculous.  Today,  as  the  Millennium  Development Goals  draw  to  a  close,  the  United  Nations  has  paved  a  new  path  for  the global  community  to  follow  in  the  form  of  Sustainable  Development Goals.  While  it  may  seem  like  a  novel  set  of  goals  to  achieve  for  the international  community,  Bhutan  had  already  set  her  agenda  on  inclusive growth  and  development  under  the  guidance  of  His  Majesty  the  Fourth Druk  Gyalpo  when  the  concept  of  Gross  National  Happiness  was introduced  during  His  coronation  speech  in  1974.  So  the  world  seems  to be  finally  following  suit.  This  is  another  testament  of  His  Majesty's visionary  leadership. 

While  all  of  us  would  have  loved  for  His  Majesty  to  have  stayed  on  the Golden  Throne  for  many  years  more,  in  abdicating  so  early,  His  Majesty has  once  again  exhibited  the  true  virtue  of  being  a  living  boddhisatva renouncing  attachment  to  worldly  power.  For  most  of  us,  the  rationale behind  such  a  move  is  a  true  mystery.  However,  His  Majesty's  wisdom  in doing  so  will  perhaps  be  unveiled  in  the  years  to  come  as  have  so  many  of His  grand  plans  over  the  years,  or  perhaps  He  would  remain  the  enigma  to His  loyal  subjects  and  the  rest  of  the  world,  a  monarch  who  epitomizes the  qualities  of  a  selfless  leader  in  the  modern  world. 

A Champion Surfer

I was once a champion surfer
The mighty king of waves
Brimming with confidence I would glide
Displaying feats of acrobatics
I believed I could tame all of the ocean
Until I came to a land afar
On new shores to conquer higher tides

Leaping forward at the opportunity
My mates cheered me on as I left
But times have changed since then
Sinking and gasping for breaths of air
I struggle to remain afloat

In despair, devoid of all hope
I sometimes wonder if I've forgotten
The art of surfing altogether
Or if I ever knew how to swim at all

Eyes closed, mustering all the courage left
I jump in once again to redeem my pride
To fight these unforgiving waves
Till either they give in, or I die trying!

To Be Young and In Love

I’m 22 years old now. Had I been in college pursuing any other degree, I probably would have finished my degree and might been a working man. That is, if I had been fortunate enough to escape the youth unemployment crisis that currently plagues my country. Instead, here I am dragging myself from 7 am until 4:30 pm, sometimes up to 10 pm everyday including some Sundays between the corridors of a hospital and the lectures of my professing teachers at University and everything in between – like the jam-packed public buses of Sri Lanka and the incessant tropical rains that are a daily part of life here in order to earn my medical degree.

But amidst this hectic schedule, there is one thing I always look forward to everyday – to see the smiling face of my beloved sweetheart on Skype! She is hundreds of miles away back home but not a day passes by when we don’t speak to each other, even for the briefest moments possible. Ours is a fairy tale, a modern day love story, a story that we continue to write with each passing day. We first met online having “befriended” each other on a “social” networking site – the holy site that sanctified the letter “F” after centuries of its infamy. The first time we saw each other was not in person but over a video call on Skype! And it wasn’t until nearly eight months into our relationship that we finally met each other in person. Just over two decades ago and this story of ours would have been on the shelves of science fiction or the subject of ridicule or marked as insanity. Today, however, it is just another story that doesn’t so much as raise an eyebrow.

We, of course, belong to a different generation altogether. Right up until our parents’ time, marriages were the domain of the wise and old only. Unless you had a few grey hair up on your scalp, you were deemed unfit to have any say in such matters. My parents first met only after their grandparents had met each other, consulted the holy astrologers and ensured that their horoscopes were “matched” with heavenly approval for their union. A whole procession of relatives led by the elders had to accompany my father to go and ask for the groom, my mother in marriage. If both of them liked each other then, I shall never know. “So how did you find Mom?” “Was Appa (father) handsome?” are questions I can only dream of asking my parents. For no matter how friendly we are with our parents, some things are never discussed in my culture. I sort of like it that way. I have imagined a thousand ways of how my parents must have first set eyes on each other, and each time I imagine a different picture of their first encounter. Of course, having seen them over the past several years, I know that they love each other endlessly and have tremendous respect for each other. Nevertheless, I sometimes wish to know how they express their love for each other. For me, they’ve been the greatest example of true, unconditional love. Yet I have never seen it laid out in words or in so-called romantic gestures. I have simply seen and felt the love, love of epic proportions that even the most beautifully scripted romantic movie would dwarf in comparison.

So, to say that times have changed would be an understatement. “Time has completely reversed” might be more appropriate if only my statement didn’t sound so paradoxical; suffice it to say that it is a different era now. Ours is an age of 4G internet, of smartphones and apps and an age of unprecedented change in the history of human civilization. Naturally, our relationships and the way we connect has transformed too. If one were to think of it, in many ways, it is truly magical what we are experiencing today. We are no longer bounded by the traditional limitations of space and time. Had it not been for technology, I may have never met the love of my life, or perhaps we would have never known of each other’s existence, let alone fall in love like this. Unlike our parents, we didn’t match our horoscopes or let our families meet first. Instead we went to our parents and told them of “someone we had met”. “When we were your age and our parents said it was time for us to get married soon, we would blush and hide in our rooms”, my father reminisced. Well, I also did blush to be honest but I had to let them know somehow.

Each time before I post one of my poems written for my sweetheart on Facebook or a photograph of us together, I think of my parents and their stern faces of disapproval at such public display of affection. I have never seen my parents snugly hug each other even at home in front of us kids, let alone publicly. So I do hesitate for a moment sometimes, but then my love-drunk mind takes over and says “Well, come on buddy, you are only saying what you feel, honestly and freely.” It’s not like I want to be a rebel or something, it’s just that I am young and in love. And one can be young only once! Being hundreds of miles away from my love compels me to find new ways of expressing my feelings for her.

So as we mark our 1^st year anniversary of togetherness today, I find myself pondering over the way modern romance is transforming with technology and changing times. As I do so, I want to thank my dearly beloved, the love of my life and my better half, Dolma for her unconditional love. I wish you a very HAPPY 1^st YEAR ANNIVERSARY dear and I dedicate this piece to you and to our love. And I want to wish all my fellow lovebirds out there the very best of luck in your journeys as well, and to all those who are still looking for their special someone, just keep looking and have faith, you’ll find your soul mate just like I did, sometimes in the most unexpected of ways!

TEACHERS’ DAY

The whole of human civilization pivots around continued passage of knowledge accumulated thus far and generation of new knowledge henceforth. This unique ability to share and pass on our experiences, knowledge and wisdom gained collectively as a species has been key to our survival and dominance as a species on this planet. It serves as the foundation of our civilization, culture, arts, sciences and every other human creation – physical or abstract. At the very heart of this massive exercise is education. Although education today may be formalized to the walls of schools, colleges and universities and the various courses they teach and the qualifications they award, it essentially is a temple of learning where tremendous amounts of knowledge is disseminated. But most important of all, these institutions are supposed to lay the foundation for life-long learning and continued education. No wonder then that it has now become customary for all young ones of the species Homo sapiens sapiens to attend several years of formal education at school, college and then university until their early years of adulthood in the hope that this mantle of knowledge may be passed on successfully to another generation and the future of mankind (and womankind alike) be safeguarded. At the very heart of this practice are the teachers who are the custodians of all of our sacred knowledge.

Teachers, therefore, hold a very special role and position in human society. Long exalted as the noble profession, teaching is undoubtedly one of the toughest jobs on the planet as it entrusts an individual with the responsibility and ability of a young mind. For me the most powerful men and women are not the ones holding political offices or managing large corporation and financial institutions or conducting ground breaking scientific research - the most powerful individuals on this planet are the TEACHERS! They educate and nurture all the young minds who have the potential to become prominent figures in society in the future. Teachers possess a unique insight in the workings of a young mind and have the moral obligation to correct them during their most formative years. Children are an impressionable lot and it has often been noted that they religiously listen to and follow what their teachers say and do. A math sum even if incorrectly done by a teacher at school would be fiercely defended by his/her student back at home when a parent with a doctorate tries correcting it. Countless successful individuals will often quote their teachers as one of the most inspiring figures in their life. So the power entrusted in a teacher is beyond words can ever express or the mind can possibly comprehend. A teacher himself/herself may never realize how much influence he/she has had on the shaping of countless young minds and as a consequence the whole of human society and history.

Teachers are the ones who are always supposed to be punctual allowing the ring of a bell dictate their daily schedule. They work day in day out trying to set the best of examples to their pupils while teaching them in classrooms and outside. Teachers try to learn as much about their subject as possible so that their students may never be left out. Teachers spend their valuable time at home, time meant for their families, correcting our work and trying hard to identify and correct our weaknesses – which we often mistake as them being mean to us when we see our essays scrawled in red ink. They try to teach us the ways of the world within the safe, protective gates of the school so that one day we may be ready to face the harsh world. They try and inculcate the correct values in us so that we may be respected by our peers and society. However, teachers are not flawless, they are just as human as any one of us. But teachers sure are as close to an angel as a human can possibly get.

I personally attribute whatever little I have achieved so far and whatever I may accomplish in the future to the hard work of countless teachers who touched my life and molded me into the person that I am today. My very first teachers of course are my parents although they may not be so by profession. So as we celebrate Teachers’ Day in Bhutan on the birth anniversary of our beloved Third Druk Gyalpo today, I wish all the teachers of Bhutan a very HAPPY TEACHERS’ DAY!

My Sleeping Beauty

She nags me like a little child

Her eyelids struggle to reach a decision

They slowly droop down unable to resist

She mumbles something, half asleep

“…love you Chucha!” the words seem to say

And off she goes into the land of dreams

I sit there unable to take my eyes off her

“O Lord, doesn’t she look absolutely gorgeous?”

Her angelic face looking ever so innocent

Her soft lips parting just a little bit

She stirs, her eyes still shut, adjusting her posture

A tuft of her silky hair falls over her round cheeks

And I fight the urge to move them aside

Lest I be the one to wake her up

Before she completes her beautiful dream

“Might I be in it?” I grin in wonder

Let me have this moment to take it all in

For when shall I again get to see her…

...slumber away in such peaceful grace

I want to freeze her picture in my mind

Her rhythmic breathing and her face so kind

Let me just be, with my beloved sweetheart

‘Cause I am falling for her even more

For she is my most amazing Sleeping Beauty!

The Icy Hands of Death

Death is called the great leveler. As a philosophical statement it sounds nice, makes each one of us feel humble and equal. But outside the classroom and intellectual discussions, when one truly encounters the death of a loved one, none of the hundreds of lines or numerous arguments one wrote in an essay for English class matters. Death comes unannounced, takes you completely by surprise and leaves you with a scar that can hardly ever be healed! 

It was a fine afternoon that day. A regular day. I had a rendezvous with an old best friend of mine from high school. We had spent nearly the whole day together. We chatted about so many things, trying to catch up with each other for we were meeting after nearly three years since both of us had left for our respective colleges. Just as I was heading home, my mother called me. She sounded a bit alarmed, "Where are you?", she asked me in a voice that sounded quite worried. "On my way back" I replied thinking maybe she was just worried I had been away all day long. "They say your Badi had an accident. I don't know the details. We need to go now. Come home soon" she instructed me, an unusual urgency in her voice. My heart raced, I couldn't really comprehend what Mom had just said or maybe I didn't want to believe what I had just heard. I was home within a few minutes. Mummy quickly briefed me and said that some of our uncles back in village had called and said maybe Badi (Badi Amma in my mother tongue means "Elder Mother" referring to one's mother's elder sister. I used to call my mother's elder sister, Badi for short) has had an accident, they weren't sure but had heard of a vehicle with a similar description to that in which Badi was traveling in that day had an accident on the highway. 

Badi was a humble lady, in her mid-forties, who had been a vegetable vender for the last decade or so. She used to live back in my maternal village and she would ferry local vegetables from her village to Thimphu, the capital city each week in the hope of earning some cash income to support her family. She would come each week on a Thursday, sell her vegetables through the weekend and return by Sunday. She always stayed at our place whenever she came to Thimphu. Two of her children, my cousins, were admitted to schools in Thimphu as well a couple of years back. So my cousins, who were more like siblings to me, my younger brother and I sort of became the four children who had two motherly figures to take care of us - my more disciplinarian Mum and the more lenient, gentle figure of Badi. Since my younger brother was still too young, my two cousins and I used to go each Thursday to the bus station and help carry Badi's goods to the vegetable market. It had become such a routine part of our lives that every Thursday we would rush back home from school and then head to the bus station to help Badi out. Her goods usually comprised of about 7 packs in total - a few sacks of tuber, a few baskets (huge bamboo baskets) of bananas, broccoli, sugarcane and a few jars of local brew. Even when carried by 3 teenage kids like ourselves along with Badi, we used to get breathless at the end of carrying all those goods. We often mumbled and sometimes expressed our concern over how Bada (her husband, again shortened for Bada Bau meaning Elder Father) and she managed to carry all of it just by the two of them back at the village. She would always smile her gentle smile and say "We manage. We have to to work hard for money". 

Mum told me to get ready. She said we had to immediately hit the highway to my village and confirm what really has or has not happened to Badi. We were all clueless, no concrete information was coming by but there were frantic calls either inquiring if it was true or what had happened. I tried to extract whatever information Mum had so far. It was hardly anything. An uncle had called. Apparently he received a call from another fellow villager who happened to be traveling that same highway and had seen a vehicle veer off the road that seemed like the one Badi was traveling in that day. ("So why didn't he confirm by stopping?" I wanted to scream out. But there was no point). We knew Badi was coming that day, it was a Thursday after all. But her cell phone had stopped working since the day before. And she would always come in a public transport bus, she always had for the last 10 years or so. But since the week before, she had begun coming in a pickup truck belonging to a fellow vegetable vendor from the same village. 

Anyhow, we had hired a taxi and started moving towards the alleged accident site. Mum was busy over the phone trying to get any valid information whatsoever. I began praying silently. After some time, I too decided to start making some calls. After several failed calls to get any information, I called the telecom operator and asked for the contact number of the nearest hospital to the accident site, a place called Bajo. I received the number and called them. They confirmed an accident had indeed occurred on the said highway to our hometown. But I was given another number and instructed to call there, it was the number of a health staff working at a Basic Health Unit (BHU) which was nearer to the accident site and that the survivors would be taken there I was told. I called the new number and a voice over the phone told me that two passengers had in fact been brought in from the accident site. I was listening with all my concentration by now. I probed for details. "Are they alive?", was my first question. "Yes". "What injuries have they sustained?". The speaker on the other end started explaining. As a trainee medical student myself, I began trying to decipher if the injuries described sounded serious enough. They didn't. I took a momentary sigh of relief. "Can you tell me their names please?", I asked. The voice on the other end gave two names, both females but they didn't sound familiar at all. "Are you sure those are the names? Isn't there someone by the name of..." I gave them Badi's name. Negative. Then the voice added "There is said to be a third person who was in the same vehicle. She is said to have some head injuries. She hasn't arrived here yet." My heart was racing again. "What kind of head injuries? Is she conscious? What is her GCS?" I asked. (GCS stands for Glasgow Coma Scale and in simple terms it is a grading system used in medical practice to assess how conscious and alert a patient is, especially after a head injury - a low score being bad news). Hearing this medical jargon mentioned, the voice on the other end quickly asked "Who are you sir?" I told them that the person he is describing could possibly be my mother (Badi) and that I was a medical student currently pursuing my MBBS in Sri Lanka. The voice asked me to stay on hold. In a few moments another voice came on. He was the senior in charge there apparently. He gave me another number, this time that of a police officer, he said, who had gone to the accident site. The third survivor was still not at the BHU, so I was asked to call the number and find out. I called. I briefly explained who I was and the conversation I had with the BHU staff and inquired about the third survivor who had sustained head injuries. "She is no more" came a sharp, quick response. "I beg your pardon?" I uttered in reflex, thoroughly confused. "She is dead. Died on the spot it seems" he said again without much hesitation. I was stunned. "What is her name?" I heard myself whisper. "Huh?", he didn't seem to have heard me. "I mean did you find any documents to verify her identity please?" I half pleaded. "We found her citizenship identity card. It says her name is..." The police officer's voice reverberated in my head for what seemed like forever. It was my Badi's name. A faint "Thank you sir" is all I managed and I hung up the phone. 

My mother, Badi's daughter and eldest daughter-in-law, who were all seated in the back seat all along up until now while I was in the front passenger seat looked at me expectantly and asked what they told me. "They said they didn't know" I lied. And what happened after that I cannot recall accurately. All I remember is going absolutely numb. I do not know for how long. But finally I managed to speak again and asked the driver to stop a while. I excused myself out of the taxi by saying I needed to answer nature's call. I entered the bushes and called my father. My hands were shaking violently and so was my voice. When my Dad heard the news, all he managed was one word in Nepali which roughly translates to "Oh no!!!". I told him that I hadn't told Mum yet. Then I quickly hung up and returned to the taxi. I began texting my Dad asking him how best to break this news. He couldn't help me much, just told me "The sooner the better." The whole world seemed to collapse then. I had never experienced the death of a close relative of mine before. Time seemed to slow down to a snail's pace. I cried in silence. I cursed God (whose existence I didn't believe and constantly questioned on normal days). And then I waited. I waited for a miracle. I waited for my phone to ring. I waited for some news from somewhere to let me know it was all not true what I just heard. I waited for the storm to pass. It never did. 

One year on and it still feels so surreal. I have returned to Sri Lanka and I often wonder if Badi might still be ferrying her goods perhaps. I still wake up and wish it was all a terrible nightmare. I still look at her pictures and hear her gentle voice speak to me. I still look at her face and see the lady who toiled so hard and never complained one bit. And just like that death took her away from us. Just like that, she was there one moment and gone the next. I could never tell her how much I loved her, how much she meant to me. And just like that, our lives changed forever! 

The Five Friends

In our homeland Bhutan, the painting of Theunpa Puen Zhi (མཐུན་པ་སྤུན་བཞི) or the Four Harmonious Friends comprising the elephant, the monkey, the rabbit and the bird are seen ubiquitously on the walls of Bhutanese homes and various monasteries around the Kingdom. It is said to symbolize interdependence and serve as the epitome of friendship and cooperation. It is said to even connote Gautama Buddha himself and his closest disciples.

Drawing my inspiration from these, I have put down a description of four of my friends who study together with me at medical school. While our friendship had initially sprung out of the fact that all of us had chosen the same career path of joining medical school and the confluence in a foreign land as fellow compatriots, our bonds have since grown (and continues to grow and be constantly reshaped) by the interaction between the strikingly different personalities each of us have, and the differences and commonalities we have found in each other. 

Below is a description of them based on my experiences and observations. And I have partly decided to publicly publish these because my dear buddies wanted to be the subject(s) of my newly started blog! 

Enquiring Elephant 

He has an incredible memory. He'll remember every nook and cranny of where a particular statement originated from; while the rest of us struggle remembering what the lecturer has printed on the lecture note slides, he will even have remembered which particular lecture note of the several we read contained a certain fact or sentence. 

On normal days, he is quite moody some would suggest. I would simply say that he sometimes like to take time off and be by himself. We all have such days. Perhaps just that our Enquiring Elephant has more of these days than most of us do. But on most good days, he is really kind. An inquisitive mind, I love the look on his face whenever I'm teaching him something - mostly it's something related to our modern gadgets like phones, tablets, laptops or the internet. I'm not a tech wiz but when I do try to impart whatever little knowledge I do have, he observes keenly. Mostly it would be something really trivial or mundane but he pays close attention to how it is done and makes you feel like a really good instructor. 

On the whole, he's a really well-organized person - he always wants his stuff kept back where it was taken from (a reasonable ask honestly) but on most days we don't comply to his demands, sometimes inevitably and other times just to piss him off. He's one of the most hardworking and down-to-earth of the five of us. 

Mad Monkey 

Well, monkeys can hardly stay in one place for too long. Such is the nature of our next friend - the Mad Monkey! He's the adventurous one. Try walking with him in the University premises one day and a journey that would otherwise only take fifteen minutes would take twice as long or more because nearly every third person walking down the road would be someone he knows and they would stop to have a quick chat; it's his adventurous, outgoing (and quite uninhibited) spirit that has earned him so many friends and admirers. He's probably the most carefree (bordering to recklessness more often than not) and relaxed of the five of us. While I call him the Mad Monkey, whenever he visits the house of our most well-organized friend, the Enquiring Elephant (whom I described above), he becomes a bull in a china shop! And good heavens, doesn't that upset our poor Mr. Enquiring Elephant. But this very fact also makes the two of them such close buddies. 

The Mad Monkey of course is the charm of the group. Sometimes he can amuse us with his gymnastic abilities, other times drive us crazy with his boisterously bold ideas. A true romantic and a cryptic poet, he's a man of many talents, not to mention plenty of intelligence. But it is probably his innocent heart that perhaps compels us all to forgive and even adore him despite his notorious, crazy acts. 

Charismatic Cheetah

The champion runner, the fastest land mammal, cheetahs are perhaps one of the top class athletes of the animal kingdom. Our friend, the Charismatic Cheetah is the same. As you might have guessed by now, he is an avid lover of sports among other things! And he is pretty good at them too - football, basketball, table tennis, badminton, you name it and he plays them all, in fact plays them well enough to make it to the school/University teams of most of these sports wherever he goes. But the love of his life is the one where eleven grown men run after one ball and try to put it inside the opponents' rectangular post, the sport described as "the beautiful game" by Edson Arantes do Nascimento (more popularly known by his nickname "Pelé") - football!  Well, he's so crazy about football that one of the most depressing things about exam time for him (as he confessed himself) is not being able to play football because he has to study so much! 

Gifted with a lean tall torso and a handsome face, how many "kills" this Charismatic Cheetah has made is probably something even he's lost count of! Just like his wild counterpart, who's so well camouflaged in the grasslands before a game, he's a guileful and clever fellow; anyone who can outwit this fellow is a person of considerable brilliance. After reading many Buddhist books sometime back, this cheetah had turned vegetarian for a while. 

If one is courageous enough to irritate him persistently (something we friends often do intentionally), he contorts his face in desperate frustration to something that renders the most hilarious look to his otherwise smart face (a look we call the "Udzarongpa face"). 

Talented Tortoise 

Tortoises and turtles are perhaps one of the most shy creatures of the animal world. I have always enjoyed watching the way they retreat their heads into their shells at the slightest movement around them. Our friend, the Talented Tortoise is also someone very shy and extremely self-conscious on most days. But one should not be deceived and mistake his humility for his weakness. Underneath his shell of shyness lies a person of extremely strong will and a robust determination to prove himself. Tortoises are often depicted in fairy tales as being the wise old creatures. Similarly, our little friend, the Talented Tortoise too is somewhat a store of wisdom with immense kindness and compassion that often results out of wisdom. He's probably one of the most selfless and kind-hearted persons one can ever come across. 

He is also an abundantly talented poet and writer. However, his shyness prevents him from boasting about his works and it took an accidental look into some folders on his laptop to discover the hidden treasure of poems he had composed over time. While a shy person by nature, he is also someone who will quietly make light conversations with people and always keep in touch with them. He makes it a point to exchange a few kind words with all the shopkeepers along the street he walks everyday between University and his apartment; they always inquire to his whereabouts whenever I visit them and if he hasn't dropped by already that day. His humble but diligent nature makes him absolutely adorable to anyone who gets in touch with him. 

Barking Dog

I do not want to write much about myself lest I end up writing something that either sounds downright flaunty or extremely self-deprecating. Suffice it to say that I might be considered the Barking Dog of the group for I am probably the most talkative of them all and also the one who tries to lead the pack most often. More often than not, they let me bark and lead for the simple fact that if they don't, I will engage them in an endless debate in which I will ultimately triumph by hook or crook (or perhaps more accurately because I will refuse to accept defeat) and also because that would be the reasonable thing to do than have a howling dog behind you all the time! My friends will probably have more to say about me.