Rest in peace lopen

(This is a humble tribute to a humble lay master. I know that, irrespective of what I try to write, it will always be insignificant one. Despite that, this is all I can do to thank  him.)

The ruins of Dungmanma village always used to be silent and peaceful except for the sound of prayers and recitations of mantras an old couple made all their lives. Today, it was buzzing with activities as  a steady stream of people come and go somberly, some with moist eyes and others visibly in anguish.

People from nearby and some from far off villages flocked to this solitary peaceful place to pay their last respects to one of the last known accomplished local lay master Lopen Shera Wangdi of Pemagatshel Khar Dungkhar. The popular local lopen passed away at his home following a brief illness recently. He was 77.

Late lopen Shera Wangdi was known among the local population as an accomplished practitioner who spent all his life amidst the ruins of what was probably a thriving ancient village of Dungmanma with his wife. The couple’s eleven grown up children live scattered in many dzongkhags but, the late lopen and his wife found peace away from human settlements and refused to follow their children.

Despite his popularity, he never kept any students with him nor did he preach people. He just lived a simple low profile life, dedicating his time to prayers and meditations. He only taught to few people who he thought possesses genuine qualities to uphold what he taught or instructed. Those who have been closely associated with the late lopen, today feels lucky to have met him.

The late lopen knew of his impending death. Just a week prior to his passing away, he was admitted to the local hospital and shortly afterwards decided to return back to his home where he began preparing for his final journey. When his illness relapsed shortly afterwards, he instructed his family members not to take him to hospital as his time has finally come to leave.

Later he made a briefly recovery for a day. Without further delay, he asked his wife to accompany him to visit the nearby Dungkhar Lhakhang for the last time. It took almost an entire day to reach the lhakhang which was actually a mere half an hour’s walking distance. Taking rest every few steps, he made it to the lhakhang.

Once at the lhakhang he said his prayers and met the two Khenpos who are teaching at the shedra. He told the Khenpos of his impending death and he entrusted the two khenpos with the task of performing all the weekly rituals for 21 days following his demise.

He then called all his children home for the last get-together. All his children reached home in time before his passing away. He was well aware of what was happening to him even as his bodily elements began dissolving and was able to recount them to his loved ones. His last wish was that nobody at home must mourn openly and that his body be left untouched for three days before cremation. He finally breathed his last peacefully.

The late lopen may not have lived his life surrounded by followers and patrons as he kept a low profile and chose to live almost like a hermit all his life. This is exactly, how Buddhist masters live. They only exhibit their accomplishments at the time of death. For them death is not something tragic and painful, it is a smooth transition to a higher realm.

Although it was a huge loss to the community, I have the comfort of having been in close touch with the lopen over the last few years and receive some valuable instructions.  I am indebted to him and can only pray for his soul to rest in peace in the blissful copper colored abode (zangdogpelri) among those enlightened beings for one last time.

Gyembo Namgyal

Pemagatshel June 21, 2016

N.B. It has been ages since I last updated my blog. The less I write the more difficult and clumsier it is becoming to write.  Bear with me, if this bores you to sleep in the middle of your reading.

Kadrinche dear readers.

THE FASHIONABLE TRENDSETTERS OF YESTERYEARS

Picture source: Google

Bumthang was a small sleepy town in the 1980s. The Chamkhar town is the assembly of all huts except for one traditional double-storied building near the round-about. The shops were mostly run by Tibetans who made Bhutan their homes following cultural revolutions in China.

I was still a student in lower classes in Jakar School when for the first time a group of fashionable young man came on the scene to grab the attention of the local people. These groups of men were young, energetic, stylish and fashionable men destined to take the town by storm. To a natïve, rustic and poor children like me, these trendsetters are nothing short of celebrity like film stars.

Some of these men had studied in Kalimpong and Darjeeling but, most were Bumtaps from Don Bosco technical school in Phuentsholing. They wore jeans and the so called gogo pants. They had long hairs, oiled and combed neatly. They spoke mostly English. We just opened our mouths widely appreciating and admiring these fashionable young men with admirations. Soon these men began working in mini industries started by Swiss expatriates in Bumthang.

They played football and the goalie used to catch slow moving ball by somersaulting. Small children watched in awe on their abilities. Back in school, we tried emulating the actions of those trendsetters. Some of these men worked in mechanical workshops while some began their career in the brown Swiss farm, some in hospital and yet some in carpentry workshops.

These young and energetic men formed a club called Druk Thuendrel Tshokpa. The founding members met often and tried their best to keep the theater open. They held many programmes and one of the programmes was on Hitler and the Second World War depicted in drama form. We got to watch the enactments of many other plays at the club house.

It was during the same period of time when some university graduates came to Bumthang to take up mandatory rural posting called the National Service. One of them was Tenzin Dhendup, the present day secretary of the Agriculture Ministry, Tenzin Dhendup. He was apparently a martial artist too as he demonstrated his skill s in a demonstration to the public at the club. One that I still remember to this day was breaking planks with his bare knuckles. That was enough to send a message to the audience not to mess with a martial artist.

Thanks to these young and trendy men, the club became popular in the town. It was a happening place in what was otherwise a sleepy town. I also remember having acted in a drama at the club. It was about Emperor Akbar and his wise minister Birbal. I played the role of Emperor Akbar.

The club apparently died long time back but, the memories of those days still linger fresh in my minds.

Gyembo Namgyal

February 7, 2015

11:30 PM.

AN ENCOUNTER WITH GHOST

Sonam is a driver by profession. He drives his truck carrying gypsum minerals between Pemagatshel and Samdrup Jongkhar. It is a terrible job but, for an uneducated man, driving is the only profession he is good at. With affluent paternal relations, he could have landed much better job but, he fancied driving right from his childhood. Somehow, he saw drivers who can manipulate a monster trucks as heroes. So after struggling as handy boy for some years, he finally became a driver.

Sonam proved to be a good driver but, he is someone who fears darkness. Even the roaring of truck engines cannot give him the confidence of driving in the dark. It is not merely darkness that he is afraid of but, the spirits and ghost stories he heard from his friends and parents that he is afraid of. To him darkness meant creatures coming out to take place of men in every space. This was the reason he  never travelled alone in the dark or when he did, he had friends in the flanks.

But one fateful day, he had to make the journey all alone. There was no one to accompany him when he started from Deothang after sundown. By the time he reached Morong, it was some hours into the dark night. He could not halt because he had an urgent work back at home but he wasn’t that confident of driving all alone. So he went to a shop and downed a bottle of local brew to embolden him.

Some stretches of the road have reported sightings of spirits and ghost by lonesome drivers and that kept bothering him more and more even as he tried not to think of those stories. He kept pressing the gas paddle as the monster roared on the snaking road. In order to keep himself composed, he never looked beyond the road in front and had his windows shut from Samdrup Jongkhar itself.

He was glad he crossed some of the fearsome stretches when he finally made it to Tshelingore from where the road bifurcated to Pemagatshel and Trashigang. There is one more spot where credible sightings of mysterious human like being had been reported in the past. As he approached the place known as Anim Gonpa, his adrenalin began rushing and he became jittery. His hands became clammy and failed to find adequate grip on the steering wheel.

When he finally reached the spot where sightings had been reported he just zoomed on with his eyes fixated on the road. Little further, he let his guard down and became little relaxed and grateful but the worst was yet to follow. After hours of tense driving he shifted his body a little and even as he did so he felt a tug on his gho. His hair stood on end and his heart seemed to have come to his throat as he felt like suffocating. He prayed to Guru Rimpoche to save him as the worst seemingly befell on him.

But he kept driving faster and faster as the ghost riding with him seems to be closing on him. The tugging seems to increase from time to time but there was no courage in him to look at where the ghost was inside the truck cabin. Finally, he reached Mongling but drove on. Soon he reached Kherigonpa where some shops line either side of the road. Just one hotel was open to his utter relief.

As soon as he reached near the door step of the hotel he stopped the engine, opened the door and tried lurching forward into the hotel. However, he could not move as he was still being held firmly inside. He finally mustered all his courage and slowly turned his face to where the ghost was sitting purportedly. He was both surprised and relieved to find there wasn't any one inside.  He moved again, but he was still being held.

There was no ghost inside but what is holding him back. Finally he tried again and this time he realized that one end of his gho was firmly tangled with the vehicle’s protruding  part. It was a big relief for him to be free at last from the nightmarish experience.

From then on, Sonam became emboldened a bit and today, he is able to drive alone in the nights yet, he fears walking alone in the night. Even today, he says there may be credence to those stories of ghost and spirits and he believes in the stories of their sightings.

Happy Reading

Gyembo Namgyal

February 6, 2015 11:50 PM