Dassain-a reflection on the past moments

Dassain-a reflection on the past moments

When I was a little boy back in the village, there used to be times, life was celebrated with a lot of extra happiness. As Dasaain would approach, usually in September or October, my excitement would gradually rise.

Dassain comes from the sanskirt term Dasha hara and it is called Dussera in proper term. Dasha means devil and Hara means to defeat—therefore a devil called Ravana is said to be defeated by Ram on this day.

 I have two brothers: elder one being about four years older and my youngest one two years smaller. I don’t know how my elder one felt for we rarely interacted while the younger one was just like me.

My mom and dad would take us to Assam bazaar during Saturday after half day holiday to purchase us clothes for dassain. My family had the favorite and permanent kind of tailor who would design our clothes. I would choose for blue colored pants and white striped shirt. My younger brother’s were also almost like mine for he was too small to choose on his own. Later as we grew up, we had a different choice of costume—my brother wanted shaktiman’s dress, six pocket pants and the like.

A week early or so, suits of cloth would be collected and kept in the wooden box—we had a big wooden box built by a local carpenter. When my mom would be away for work, I would silently take  them out and wear. We didn’t have a bigger mirror, then. All we had was a smaller one that would show our face little different—distorted one. This kind of activity would keep on happening every time my mother was away—perhaps I did until I was in class five or so. After a long time, as I would feel so, dassain would come. The eve of dassain used to be the happiest moment in my life: even today eve of any auspicious moment never stops me from being the happiest person.

Vijay dassami /Dassain would come and it was time to wear new suits. Early in the morning I would takee bathe and dress up. Vijay Dassami is the tenth day when Tika (Mixture of yoghurt and rice) is received. My parents would take out new notes of Ngultrum 10 each and give us as DAKSHINA(term for money on that occasion). In those days, 10 Ngultrum was the highest amount of money our father used to give us. It was more than enough for us.

Dasain lasts for five days—it ends in the full moon day—Purnima, with a farewell Tika to the family members. Until, then, from the day one, a hunt for money would start. As my mom spoke would  speak of  going to her relative’s house, I would be really excited and so were by fellow brothers. Before we reached their house, we would start calculating as to how much we would get. Disappointed of receiving ATHANA (50 Chhetrum coin) or one rupee, we would even lose appetite. Due to the frustration, sometimes three of us would go home without waiting for the parents. Such were our days as a child.

Today we are grown up and part of our beliefs and  excitements are fading.

Bewailing my inability

Bewailing my inability

On the coaster monster with dark wheels

I was thinking of sliding down to home

What stops me from moving?

I am yet to figure out!

Perhaps, a bigger pat on the shoulders

Hold me back;

Perhaps your love and affections

Bind me with a desire to remain back:

Or else my eager legs were ready-

Excited to embrace once again

The cradle- land and you, my parents!

Little story of my life

Little story of my life

I come from a far flung village in south eastern Bhutan. When my cousins and friends in Thimphu saw mobiles and laptops as soon as they were born, I was just a little dark boy running after cattle and herd of goats with filth -laden knees along the terrace of paddy field. They travelled in the car long before I saw how they looked like. When they washed their clothes in a washing machine, I was wearing the same clothe I took off the previous day. I   have never operated a washing machine not because I didn’t want to but never have my parents been able to afford one. I don’t know how to operate it. I never used laptop until I reached college because I never could afford one. I used to hesitate using others. When rest of the youths typed love letters on a computer, I used to write official applications with a Chinese pen. When I first saw computer in class eight, I was just wondering as to how it would operate.(There was time when my principal called me to his office and tranfered a song on a drive and gave it to me. Seeing him insert that another computer I was like, oh my god what an amazing thing was that. I wondered what that small thing from which music played, could be).

When I was went to boarding school in 2008, which was turning point of my life. I used computer thenI learned how to switch on and shutdown the desktop when I was in class 11 thanks to CHHIPHEN RIGPHEL project. By the end class 12, I used to type a word after five minutes after searching alphabetic letters. (There was a time when once I thought there was no letter “Q” on the key board.)

When many people married through phone, I just heard the name. I saw mobile phone when I was in class seven when a friend of mine came from Thimphu. Until then, I used to get mixed up between mobile phone and a calculator. I did not know what voucher was and used think that money was inserted from some holes. (My elder brother once asked a friend of his from Thimphu who was in the village, as to where the money was inserted-we used to mistake balance for money). When I qualified for class 11 with good grades, my dad gave me six thousand to purchase a mobile. Since then, I have been using mobiles starting from keypad wala to the touch screen wala, thanks to my parents. (I take this privilege to gratify my parents for buying me a standard phone despite them using simple phone like NOKE 1600).

Until I came to Thimphu in 2009, I never saw an Indian toilet, forget seeing European toilet pot. Until then, back in the village, we used to defecate inside the bush or the clumps of bamboo. We used to wipe our butts with broad leaves of BHATEY (a plant that grows in southern foothills).When I came to Thimphu, there was another historic time when I went inside the toilet and found none. The high standing pot with a closed lid disguised itself to be a sink to wash face. After a few minutes of searching, I confirmed that I mistook toilet for a face washing sink. After discovering that toilet could be as high as European pot, I squatted on it.  However, I squatted keeping my legs on the pot and felt so uncomfortable to empty my bowels. By the time I found toilet, my bowel was fine and I excreted a little. After wiping my butt, I did not know that there was button/handle for flushing-I used around one and half bucket of water to finally flush it. (Last time when my dad came, I taught him as to how to use the toilet before he was confused).

When many people used Dettol or other quality soaps, I used OK soap to wash clothes, lifebuoy that I hear people use it for bathing their dogs in some other countries, to take bathe. What were jeans pants, I never knew. I never saw until I went to boarding school. Until then I used to wear a half pants that used to have hook button. It was an orange shirt that we wear during summer, I have worn after my mum bought me for the first time in life. Then, Bata slippers were the cheapest of all and my mum would buy me a pair which I used to wear with great care. Until I went to schools, I never brushed my teeth. Even during my time brushing of teeth used to be done by the twigs of a plant called “kadam”. Perhaps, it was a failure on my part to never have updated things. We chose our life the way situation demands and that has a big bearing in our future. I must not be as lucky as others, but I am happy for what has happened to me. I learned a lesson for life and that has shaped me in becoming who I am today.

Ode to my Love

In the memories of those times, my darling,

Let me delve into my past-

Or shall I say our past?

When I was infatuated to television

But there was not any at our home;

When movies would beckon me

Through the cascade of dark night

Until when moon light and daylight met:

You and I have grown together.

In those cold nights with the cold feet

Through the cold terraces

Consuming cold breeze with the cheeks

And Bata –chapel-worn legs;

We have shared dream of buying a TV

And the cold night together.

You and I would sleep together

And yet how can I forget you waited

For me with the warm mattress and blanket

And the unlatched door for me to enter home?

Those tearful moments

When I would depart the next day

For my college or high school-

Why would you withdraw some money

From your PATUKI (¹⁾ and give me secretly?

I would see silent tears climbing down;

But you never would show me!

Sometimes early in the morning

Why would you give me yoghurt

Before I departed?

Perhaps you never told me you love

Nor did I ever

Like the girls and boys do to each other!

But lines are for you, my love-

I also have cracked my voice with emotion

And suffocated in bidding farewell;

At times scared with thoughts-

Thought of whether we will meet again.

With the rising sun

If I wake up every day,

It is because you have been the reason

For me to live

 Dream

And sing.

My grandma: This moment is dedicated

To you: in your thoughts!