WINTER

Desolate appear the landscape,

So far as the eyes can see with ease,

Barren fields and dusty roads,

Grey mountains and naked trees.

Wintry breeze seem to have jagged edges,

 Lacerating feel follows numbness on exposed parts,

So people try shielding with armory of garments,

As the grey clouds hang menacingly, like a doomsday art.

So leaden are the skies in winter,

 Clouds look pregnant but find precipitation labourious,

As highlands wait for snow and rain in lower vales,

And pave way for sunshine to make places salubrious.

Frost in the morning carpets the grasslands in white,

Mist envelopes villages like feathery blanket in tons,

Rendering the sun too febrile even when at its zenith,

So people warm around fire, gossip-mongering in marathon.

The rich are in the cozy rooms sipping exotic whiskeys,

Some are in the bars gulping cheap rums and brandies,

Peasants in their homes down homemade barley brews,

And teetotalers drink gallons of teas and coffees with candies.

Only snotty nosed children seem immune to cold,

As they play with icicles oblivious to the wintry chill,

Even the tempers of vociferous strays seem to ebb,

As most remain coiled in the street corners, whimpering and still.

But winter is a season to relax and rejuvenate,

And be a part of the spoils of the festive season,

Tshechus, losars, New Year and the festivals anon

A season of mirth and merry making, life’s very reason.

pic; google 

Gyembo Namgyal

Pemagatsel

December 28, 2015

A WEAVER AND HER WEAVE

An enchantress, that you are- beautiful,

Bestowed with skills that is unrivaled,

An amalgamation of god’s bountiful,

Spellbound are the eyes for your skills unparalleled.

In frills hangs your silken raven hair,

A tuft tucked behind your shapely ear,

Rests are flying delicately on the flow of the air,

As you come walking, the yarns seem they can hear.

The wooden loom is incomplete without you,

The silk threads go around in colourful triangle,

They spread evenly in the mirage of hue,

Resembling like a rainbow from every possible angle.

So keen and fixated are your gaze,

So nimbly your graceful hands work,

Pulling strains of threads, fingers move in maze,

Dhak..Dhak the shinning beater in rhythm works.

Spectacle it is, the half woven loom revealed,

Of intricate patterns and awe inspiring designs,

And artistically you weave on with patience not trivial,

Thread by thread you will entwine them but not resign.

Occasionally, you adjust the shifting back strap,

That snugs your derriere and holds the loom tight,

Listening to melody you make loops and knots on the angled drape,

Tucking back those hairs interfering with her sight.

The patterns are beautiful even for a naïve eyes,

But special they are and hold meanings so clear,

They are the motifs of trees and delicate butterflies,

And woven patiently for days and months so dear.

One day a beautiful maiden will wear this masterpiece,

On the anointed day where thousands gather,

To watch dances and glittering spectacle of fashionable pieces

But none will be as beautiful as this art put together.

Here I am today; I watch the birth of silken butterflies,

And trees in fruition along with symbolic knot of love,

By the fingers that seem to have eyes of their own to rely,

Of a weaver more beautiful than the weave, an enchantress everyone loves.

Gyembo Namgyal

Pemagatshel

December 15, 2015

FLOWERS--BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS

Ah Flowers! So beautiful are all flowers,

The spectrum of their hues so dazzling.

Beautiful they are on ancient trees,

Or on shrubs by the bank of sparkling rivers.

Flowers bloom all season round,

Most in spring, some in summer, fall and winter.

Some lasts for weeks and months some just for a day,

And some bloom only in the darkness of the night.

Flowers adorn rocky cliffs and deep ravines,

They carpet moors and prairie lands,

And look good even on thorny plants,

And adorn plants growing in hostile arid lands.

Flowers are bewitching to human eyes,

Mesmerized are chirpy birds and humming bees.

Colourful petals leading to reveal exotic aromas,

Ushering to where lay the hidden seductive nectar.

Flowers are the purest offerings man can make,

On the altars of enlightened ones who sits on floral thrones.

Thus even the least bestowed can gain equal merits,

Like those overflowing with material abundance.

So wide are flowers used in human lives,

Their uses transcend all societal and cultural bounds.

And thus there is a flower for any occasion one can fathom,

From mirth and merry making to poignantly somber ones.

Floral garlands signify goodwill,

Bouquets to congratulate,

And  flowers are sent to mend broken hearts,

And wreaths are laid to mourn painful demises.

Varieties hold symbolism like Calla Lily for wedding,

Poppies for bereavement, chrysanthemum for fidelity,

Daisies for pure innocence, orchids for exotic beauty,

And tulip is to express declaration of love.

Hues and numbers have their meanings too,

Red rose is for love and passion, yellow rose for friendship,

Pink for admiration and blue rose to someone who cannot be yours,

And one rose to say I love you, 50 roses to say your love is limitless.

But flower, although enchanting is also ephemeral,

For no matter on what plant they bloom,

Or in which season, they display extravagant colours,

They also leave a poignant message of the truth of impermanence.

Gyembo Namgyal

Pemagatshel

December 11, 2015

LET’S MARK DRUKGYAL ZHIPA’S BIRTHDAY WITH A PLEDGE TO FULFILL HIS VISION

Today, we are in the midst of nationwide celebration to mark the auspicious birthday of our beloved and great king Jigme Singye Wangchuck. This year’s celebration is different from those of the past years as His Majesty completes a 60 year cycle in the Bhutanese calendar called Rabjung. The celebrations have begun in earnest across the country and it is heartening to see whole-hearted dedications being exhibited by people including those in the villages led by gewog officials.

Despite various programme currently underway including those that concluded days prior to November 11 to commemorate and pay our respect to His Majesty, nothing would suffice in our expression of gratitude to our beloved Drukgyal Zhipa.

Even as we celebrate his birthday with so much fervor recollecting all the great and extraordinary deeds in the past 30 years of his reign everything we do today in the name of expressing our gratitude, will fall short of how indebted we all are to everything he has done for nation’s well being. In fact, at times we Bhutanese have failed miserably to live up to the expectations of His Majesty. We must feel so lucky to have had been ruled by a selfless king like him but hang our head in shame for failing him when he needed our support the most.

It is heartbreaking today to watch clips of his speech on how when as a last resort, he had to mobilize military options to flush out foreign militants, just a handful of people, that too mostly farmers came forward to serve the country. The footage that we get to watch today makes us realize how he had to shoulder the most difficult task forsaking his own safety along with few hundred regular servicemen and he is right when he said, “If you don’t come forward and serve your nation when in need, when are you going to do that. It is a matter of utmost shame for all able bodied citizens of the country who spoke loudly of patriotism but failed when it is most needed.”

He rightly said that those few volunteers who came forward to the call of the nation are the true sons of Palden Drukpa. I can only agree that these volunteers, where they may be living today, are the true sons of Bhutan. Let’s not forget them too.

Another profound legacy of Drukgyal Zhipa is conservation of our environment. It is amazing on how he became the architect of putting environment at the centre of our development. He is truly a champion of the earth and it was befitting that he was the recipient of numerous prestigious international awards for his lifelong service to environment conservation. Today, despite our claims of enormous success in environmental conservation, it is alarming to see proliferation of mines and quarries which benefit just a few at the larger cost of the nation. We need to re-evaluate our actions and follow the lead of His Majesty in this front if we really care of His Majesty’s vision and aspirations.

I think we all need to reevaluate our priorities and actions, come to our senses and live and work to fulfill the aspirations and lead provided by His Majesty Drukgyal Zhipa for over three decades. We failed him in 2003, let’s not fail him in this more subtle but profound and enlightened vision of a happy country. Let’s celebrate his birthday the way we always do but, more than the celebration with various programme, I am sure His Majesty would be more pleased if we all work together to fulfill his aspirations and dreams for the well being of our country.

May His Majesty live forever and be a continuous source of inspiration for us all and radiate his wisdom like the rays of the sun that leaves no place in darkness.

Tashi Delek and Happy Reading.

Gyembo Namgyal

November 10, 2015

FLOWERING SPECTACLE

In whatever hues they blossom,

Flowers are beautiful universally,

Some lasts for months, some just for a day,

This one lasts for a day and completes a cycle,

Of a miraculous transformation for eyes to behold.

From lily-white in the morn, pink-white combo by noon,

And before the night falls, it transforms to pink in toto,

Providing ample introspective fodder to discern,

In the silence of night; on a miracle that just unfolded.

Gyembo Namgyal

Pemagatshel

October 9, 2015

BIRTHDAY CELEBRATIONS AND SHORT TERM RETREATS

source: google

While western people look for meaning and essence of life to the wisdom of eastern culture particularly Buddhism, we are increasingly trying to copy western culture. Look at the food our people eat, the clothes we wear and our desperation to look different with makeup and weird hairdos and with all these we also see violence, drugs, smugglings, thefts, robberies, frauds, corruptions and many other evil offshoots of those cultures taking roots in our society.

Just the other day, I was watching a BBS programme. It was a discussion programme with two monks, one was a Khenpo and another was a doctor-turned monk. Both were insisting on the need for lay people to take a break from their works and take vows of the sangha for a short period to get better perspectives of life. I did not realize such a provision exists and it is indeed a wonderful opportunity for lay people to take monastic vows for any period of time they wish and partake in the daily routines of a monastery or a nunnery like regular monks and nuns.

I couldn’t agree more with the doctor that this could in fact be a potent antidote for the insatiable desires of our mind that leads people to take evil paths ultimately bringing them more sufferings. I think this is a wonderful opportunity for people to get their perspectives on the right track and will contribute tremendously to the ideals of a compassionate and caring society. I don’t see why government and corporations should not allow their workers short leave from their jobs for this kind of retreat. I am sure when they rejoin their work they will become more productive and also become positive influence on their peers.

I was also struck by the truth of their assessment of how our society is increasingly transiting from traditional value based and caring society to a more self centric and artificial one trying to copy alien cultures. One basic example is the way we celebrate our children’s birthday today. It is not just in towns and cities that families  celebrate their children’s birthdays the western way, this culture is even making inroads in rural countryside where people with little education and understandings are trying to imitate birthday celebrations with cakes, candles and balloons like their cousins do in the towns, setting a less then desirable trend in the villages. If we really observe deeply, we are making the auspicious birthday of our children with everything inauspicious. We have birthday cakes with names of our children on them. When we cut the cake, we cut the name of the child which is quite inauspicious in our culture. We blow out candle and that is extremely inauspicious representing something like blowing out life and then poke balloons with needle while others clap.

I share the panelists’ view that we can celebrate birthdays in our own auspicious ways. We can have cakes adorned with Tashi Delek written on them and placing it on the altar as offerings first. It would be a good idea to invite a monk and perform a short cleansing ceremony (Lhabsang Thruesoel) and recite long life prayer (Tshedrup) for the child and do something good and wholesome in your  child’s name  like saving a life of an animal or donating something to a more needy ones around us. This way we instill values in our children right from the young age and they will grow up to be a more compassionate human being.

Like what the monks said we must encourage our children to say Apa to father and Ama or Aie to mother rather than Daddy or Mommy which are not our language in the first place and phonetically inauspicious. Daddy sounds like (Dredre) which means separation and Mommy sounds like (Ma Mey) no mother. These may sound trivial but, for Bhutanese there is nothing as important as Tendrel which is the custom of believing in the importance of auspiciousness in everything we do and it would certainly make sense to care about small things closer at home than trying to emulate things we hardly understand from far away.

Happy  reading.

Gyembo Namgyal

Pemagatshel

August 30, 2015

THE QUIXOTIC RAIN

There is incessant rain falling,

From pregnant dark clouds blanketing.

From puddles to rivulets they become brooks,

And gushes of white-water from collection of creeks,

Back to where it began the water keeps journeying.

There are flashes of lightening outside,

It’s the architect of darkness inside.

When the light goes out in sudden,

Darkness returns to incandescent and tungsten,

Halogen, fluorescent and iridescent on all sides.

There are people groping in the darkness,

A faint blue light from a gadget comes in fastness.

A flickering light on the matchstick follows,

And just when a candle is lit to light, though shallow,

Electricity returns all bright and glowing in vastness.

Sooner the candle is put out by someone blowing,

The wig begins emitting faint smoke flowing.

Then a flash outside brings about darkness yet again inside,

Darkness mocks at inhabitants quixotically from all sides,

And this time all stay still except for the sounds of rain on the roof; beating.

Gyembo Namgyal

Pemagatshel

June 24, 2015 02:30 PM