My friend ‘a New Cow Man’

New Cow getting in a line.....

Back in my school days I had a macho friend. He was a fair, stylish and muscular lad. The only problem with him was his height. He wasn’t that tall. But, for him that wasn’t a problem at all. The height didn’t bother him much as he was immensely celebrated by our school girls.

Our mutual girl friends in the school would often talk about the charm he possessed. The killing looks he had which made their world go blind and the magical touch of his fingers sending quiver of excitement throughout their body. He was one boy who all high school boys would envy his style and all girls would wish to go out for a date with him.

Girls at the school had all time under the sun to talk about him and would tirelessly ask everything regarding my A-list friend. One at a time they would come to my desk during free periods and recesses only to glorify my friend further. Some talk about his body, handful of them romanticize his way of glancing at them and few go crazy over the casual caresses my STAR friend would use to begin any conversation with them.

Argh! Felt sorry for them on occasions when I see them closing their eyes and endlessly praising my friend who hardly cares about them. He was one easy gay who didn’t have a heart for love and emotions but he happened to be a good friend of mine who would stand by me at all cost.

But one thing that amazed me most about my friend was his flair to start conversation with new girls without a slight hitch and immediately go out for dates with them leaving the old girls clam, satisfied and happy! He would meticulously aside the old girlfriends for new ones and never let them realize that they have been left forever. As far as I remember, he didn’t date the same girl twice. Once dated made that girl old for him, out-dated stuff that he didn’t bother to come back again. He wanted only new one! And believe it or not, he gets a new one in a snap of fingers.

As busy were girls in the school praising my friend, he use to describe me how well did each date unfolded. Like a gifted narrator he would narrate everything that happened in between HI and GOODBYE often mix matching the place of date with the names of his ladies.

I had been quite old timer those days. I believed in mingling with one girl and settle down with her too. The belief I had those days is still strong today. I didn’t have a long name list of girls dated like my macho friend who preserved the list with great pride and was so proud to show it to me. Unlike my friend, I would have been contended with a girl happy enough to share her life with me. My friend was flying high.

We were destined to come together for few years but we lived with absolutely different approaches to things in life. He wanted elegant body and I dreamt of a beautiful mind. Emotions made me where my friend was molded with passion. One would have been enough for me while he kept adding on his list. Miss x might have been the final destination for me but for my friend she would be just another stepping stone to his out-of-sight destination.

I wondered what was happening with my friend until recently I read about ‘New Cow Theory’ It comes from the book animal husbandry by Laura Zigman. It has just been made into a movie called someone like you starring Ashley Judd.

The new cow theory is based on that when a bull is shown a cow it will want to mate with it. But then it will no longer want that cow because it is now old cow and the bull wants new cow!

The theory applies this concept to men. It is why some men (the new cow men, like my macho friend) will go from woman to woman, while others (the old cow men, like me) will be happy to stay with one woman.

The question I have for you amidst this awesome piece of information is Are you an Old Cow Man or a New Cow Man? Huh?

Milk man of Samtse not so creamy



Evening dose of waiting in a queue



This is not so unusual scenario for residents of Samtse when they go to fetch milk. ‘…And it has been same for a decade now’, lamented a worried resident. The residents wait for the milk man in open space beside the Samtse Dzong under the southern scorching heat. The only milk Vander in the town brings in his diary milk twice a day. Around 4:00 pm in the evening and as early as 5:00 am in the morning.

My sisters, brother in law and I were visiting my parents who have lately been transferred here which made us fetch milk for them a day or two.

Day before yesterday evening we had gone to fetch the milk. We didn’t wait for long when the milk Vander arrived in silver colored Maruti Van. He had three big Milk tanks in his car and anxiously waiting costumers. As the Van stopped on the roadside the residents hurried to form a queue rushing and pushing each other to stand in the front.

Democratic yet undemocratic mannerism...

 

The Milk Man is in his mid forties. He has worn a white apron, a pair of old slippers and very cheap half-pant which had its laces dangling in-front. His face was covered with sweats and he had worn a surgical mask which was supposed to cover his mouth but it was covering his chin instead. He was chewing Doma (betel nut) furiously and threatening the residents of not selling his diary milk to those who are not in the queue. Incredibly, all of them slowly adjusted into the queue. What else is expected when the seller is dominating the scene and when the helpless costumers don’t have a choice?

Our not so creamy Milk Man....

He started filling one bottle at a time and carefully counting the money twice. Few more bottles were fill in-queue when a couple of his close acquaintance costumers sneaked in from behind and he started filling their bottles. How democratic is that? I seriously believe that democracy is not all freedom but it is also equally means responsibility. Those sneakers really needed a serious education on democracy!

 

Back to our not so creamy milk man, he seems OK with it and when one of the fellow costumers complains about it he bluntly asked others to be in the queue. How wicked? He was handling the milk with his bare hands; the funnel went trembling on the floor and into the tanks and the milk man kept becoming more enraged as the queue shortened.

This morning my mother and I went to fetch the milk. The day, time and the place had changed but not his attitude, manner of handling his diary product and his other-wise valuable costumers. It was 5:00 am and we were standing in the queue in the main Taxi Parking.



Morning scene



We didn’t face any pushing and pulling as the number of costumers was less in the morning. But our infamous milk man with his infamous demeanors filled my bottle with approximately an ounce less than my mother’s. I asked him to see the difference in the level as we had the same sized bottles. He got angry and poured a jug of milk to fill my bottle and requested me not to come again to buy milk from him if I think it’s not working. Is it a Funny incident, insensible or an intolerable act? You decide. I was embarrassed but, I firmly thanked him.

 

Though he brings one of the most valuable commodities for the residents of Samtse Town but I didn’t feel to show my appreciation for this man nor did I find anybody interested too. For him, it seemed, only money counts. He was too busy doing business that he is un-aware of the invaluable service he has been rendering to the community here. He only knows how to drive his milk Van and take the money from his costumers but he seems certainly not aware that the money that helps him send his children to school or bring food on the table for his family comes out of the pockets of milk costumers like us. I don’t demand respect or humbleness from him but we deserve fairness and politeness on his part for the virtue of us being his costumer. He knows all the tricks under the sun how to betray the costumers but he seems not bothered or worried of the silent curses from his dormant costumers. God Bless Him.

Aacho Karma Dorji

My name is Karma Dorji. I am 26 years old and I am married. I have two lovely daughters. Sonam Yangchen is my youngest daughter. She is just 1 year and 5 months old. And her sister Ngawang Tenzin Lhamo is barely 4 and half. Norbu Lhamo is my only wife. She is just 24.

Comparatively my family is the smallest one in the village and the youngest too. My wife is a simple woman. She is a good home maker. My elder daughter Ngawang Tenzin Lhamo imitates me a lot. She talks like me and also gets angry the way I do. Very recently Sonam Yangchen, her sister, started to move her tiny body throwing her hands in the air whenever i play some Bhutanese songs on my mobile. She has also started to bubble few words. She can perfectly pronounce the word ‘apa’ (daddy) which only resonate more love and care in me for my family. She also kisses me and waves her tender hands to say goodbye when I leave for work in the morning. Collectively this is our story but mostly this is My Story.

Sonam Yangchen busy munching a head of maize

Five months back we were staying at my mother’s house. Unlike in other countries, it is customary here that female eventually inherits the family house. My mother died three years ago so now the immediate inheritor is my elder sister Tashi Peday. We were all happy then. Her inheriting the house didn’t bother me much but things slowly started to change the day my sister got married. She got married with much younger lad who is from another village.

The fireside conversations often started to get more heated. There were more disagreements among us and bitter feelings for each other began to invade our hearts. With not much delay I made up my mind to live separately before things get worse. On my request my father summoned few senior villagers and village heads to be the witness and to bring fairness in dividing family property.

Blankets/mattresses and kitchen utensils were divided equally but the law of the land gave her the house, cattle and much of the fertile lands.

With nothing heavy to carry on my back I went to Meymay Dorji to ask him to allow us to stay at his old and unoccupied house for a period of six months. Within that period i informed him that I would build a small house and vacant immediately. Meymay agreed!

Four months were passed in the new house when I received a call from my elder brother Kuenzang Namgyel. He had left for Thimphu two years back in search of a decent job. Unlike other calls to inquire about us in the village this particular call was different. He requested me to send him a sum of Nu: 1, 50,000(one Lakh Fifty Thousand). Why? He has been asked that sum of money by someone in Thimphu in order to get a job in Dubai.

Dubai: progressivetimes.wordpress.com

My brother Kuenzang Namgyel told me that the country he will be visiting is a rich country. Tall buildings, sight of an ocean and he will be taking his lunch when I return home tired from my day’s work. He also shared with me that he will be flying in an Aero-plane from Paro International Airport to Dubai via the Indian Capital city. He informed me that the job he would be offered there is a lucrative one. So without any hesitation I immediately rushed to the BOB (Bank of Bhutan) office here in Trashiyangtse and credited a loan in my name and sent it to him in the same day.

In the village the news got spread! The people got extremely happy as if my bother will come back one day and take them all to that far away country.

Back home, things are getting pretty uneasy now. I have barely two months to live in meymay Dorji’s house free of cost and my kitchen stock has already kissed the floor. Getting work here is hard. I make some money from cutting wood chips and selling it to the agents here. I also earn an amount by helping lamas perform rituals in my village.

One evening when I was about to retire to my bed I again received a call from my bother. He informed me that he had to return from New Delhi because the prospective job has been postponed and he needs some more money to sustain in Thimphu.

Acho Karma and I sharing a moment together

(Although he is two years younger than me I call him Acho(elder brother) because he is shouldering a lot of responsibilities. He has two kids and a wife to look after, he wants to educate his younger brother so he doesn’t have to struggle like him, the huge loan is credited to his name and he also have to build a house for his own family.  I salute his courage)

Meymay Dorji: An Ex-Indian Army and a True GNH Citizen.

One cold evening Meymay Dorji, his wife Aum Zangmo and I were sitting near a small fire in his Thubtshang (Kitchen). Aum Zangmo had prepared butter tea for us. Taking a sip of hot butter tea and munching a fist full of Thangma( maize goody) the usual discussion of an Indian college graduate-turn-school Teacher and an ex-Indian Army  begins in a remote village  somewhere in Trashiyangtse.

The Kitchen where brain works more than mouth/stomach.

Meymay and my conversation always revolve within the malpractices and politics of India and Bhutan, five HMKs of Bhutan, his gone by stories as an Army man and about the burning issues of his community. May be my place of study and his association with India just clicked! Our mode of conversation?  Ekdum Paaka Hindi.

He and Aum Zangmo shared an incident related to the war between china and India of 1961. They were young then. They saw Indian Army withdrawing back from the war zone some 30 km from here. They saw them scavenge on leftovers in their food containers and saw few chewing grasses nearby. The Army men were exhausted and few badly wounded. Meymay says that many of the community people had already packed their basic necessities and were ready to leave towards south for safety. But they didn’t have to move as the war soon came to an end.

The recent issues of Gorkha Land and his visit to Gangtok in 1978 as a young Army man and the road accident that almost killed him then when he was driving a shantimaan which fell some 200 ft down the road crops at least once during our fire side conversations. He talks about another event which he loves to share with me is the golden Temple incident of Punjab where the Indian Army launched the Operation Blue Star. He tapped on my back when I connected the incident with the assassination of former Prime Minister of India Shrimati Indira Gandhi. She was murdered by her own body guard who happened to be a diehard Panjabi. Luknow, Assam, Ladhak, Haryana, Delhi, Jammu Kashmir, siliguri to name a few are places that I get a free trip to visit through Maymey’s often delightful conversations. 

The valley of Trashiyangtse

Recently Meymay candidly shares with me that the valley of Trashiyangtse could be the best spot to ambush enemies. How? He shares pointing to the surrounding hills that they could make an excellent place to make bunkers for Army. He then nods his head and clicks his tongue just to say ‘sir ji yea ekdum baria place hey’.

He is still an army like. Disciplined, tough and talking no nonsense. He is master of time management; he has to complete any task that has been scheduled for the day. He reminds me the famous quotation of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru whenever I postpone any work at hand; ‘Kaal Kare So Aaj Kar, Aaj Kare So Ub Pal Mein Pralaya Hoyegi, Bahuri Karoge Kub’. And when he finds me being late for school by few minutes he would remind me at our fire side conversation how crucial is time and rules to be followed when one has worn the uniform.

Talking about uniform, he has great respect for our national dress. He praises me in Hindi when I have worn my chupha neatly. But when it is out of order he would sneak up on me and arrange my chupha. ‘Paina hai tho gaurub say paino’ he would say me to show his frustration on seeing people disrespecting our national dress.

He has a conviction that the best part of Bhutanese Democracy has been its feature as a ‘democratic constitutional Monarch’. If both the heads of Government and the state were bestowed on the hands of commoners, who get elected as Prime Minister and President, where the King has no part in decision making, he believes our country will never prosper. His only wish is to see future Kings having the same veto power in making all the momentous decisions for the country. And please dare not to speak anything bad regarding any of the HMKs of Bhutan in front of him; you will be trashed with all the Punjabi vulgar words that i think I don’t have to mention here. You know them!  I heard him use it when he was talking about a drunkard man who lives on his wife's earning.

He believes there is an illegal logging going on in his community. He is concern that the illegal and extensive logging will further damage the only road which has been already marred by heavy summer rain. As of him, he reaffirms that in future he would also use timber to build new houses for his children but he would ask the permission of the concern authority if the tree doesn’t belong to him and he would use the timbers in his land in a sustainable manner.

He is also bothered by the issue of young girls getting pregnant without a legitimate father. He is very concern of the image of his village. He just can’t stand with such practices that tarnish the name of the village.

Maymey makes extra earning beside his pension by selling Dhapa (wooden plates). Meymay is as business minded as he is culturally and religiously inclined. He conducts annual rituals at his house with all the norms. He never compromises with anything till the puja is completed.

There you have it. A man I wish every village in our country be blessed with. People respect him with utmost sincerity here and he equally cares and loves them all. The best part of Maymey that I like the most is that he calls his Aum(wife) as ‘Mam Shab’ when he addresses her to me.   

Pema Lhamo and Mr.Gurung’s story “Curse of the gift of Child”.

brooktownphoto.com

Pema Lhamo is a young girl of 23. Her face is fair and plump just the way I wish to have in my life partner. She is soft spoken and has a long silky hair dangling down her curvaceous body. She is indeed blessed with a beautiful face but as luck would have it she wears scars deeply engraved inside.

Two years back when everything was fine in her life she got pregnant. It would have been a happy moment for a married couple to share the good news but for Pema it was certainly not a joyous occasion. Unable to pinpoint the culprit she soon gave birth to a baby boy. She belongs to a family who just manages to bring food on the table- raising an infant and an extra mouth to feed brought more challenges. Soon a meeting was held and after much debate in the community one of the accused was asked to pay Ngultrum 15, 000 as compensation. On which the destitute family agreed without a hitch.

On his first birthday, Pema Lhamo along with her infant boy went to Thimphu in search of a job. Like any other mother she was driven by the urge to provide all the comfort to her child. She would be putting up at her relative’s place for the time being.

Back home, a young married couple from central Bhutan got transferred in the community. His name is Gurung. They have been married for five years now.

I often found Mr. Gurung spent his days drinking 11000 beer from my landlord’s multi-purpose shop and he keeps requesting me to join him whenever he sees me passing by. For which I have invariably decline his request. Then he would call friends listed in his mobile phone and talk for hours and hours. Sometimes losing his temper over the phone and lashing someone with all adult words under the sun and at times he would cajole and praise someone else. Had I knew the reasons behind the nuisance he created I won’t have slandered him by calling him a drunkard.

I could figure out all the good reasons for him to lead a good and happy life. He is a permanent Government employee, has a tall and attractive wife and a handsome salary gets into his saving account in nearby BOB bank at the end of every month. But I was blind to his most horrendous truth.

Mr. Gurung and his wife have been married for last five good years but they have been denied the gift of child in their lives. Unable to face the truth he has been pouring himself bottles after bottles of beer. He kept on drinking until one day when he heard that Pema Lhamo is on her way back home. It’s not uncommon here in the east that any news bad or good launches at rocket’s speed and spreads like a wild fire. The coming of Pema Lhamo brought smile on his face and he had already planned out an idea to extend a helping hand but Pema’s family is equally saddened and angry with her. It has been almost a year since her last departure.

Why on earth is her family saddened and angry with her?

Pema Lhamo is eight month pregnant again and this time she doesn’t know whom to accuse! Her family members were reluctant to help her. But she was however allowed to stay at their own house.

 Mr. Gurung shared his idea of adopting the unborn child with the ashamed Pema upon which she agreed easily. He thought the baby could bring the long awaited happiness in their lives. His wife was equally eager and excited for she will soon hear the crying of the infant and have the baby nestle on her laps. But they had to wait for one more month.

Pema Lhamo gave birth to another healthy baby boy. But the angry and saddened relatives of her didn’t withdraw from giving the necessary support and assistance during and after the birth. They happily welcomed the new member into their family.

At Mr. Gurung’s house, he is thrilled to hear that it’s a baby boy. He has been preparing for this day. He had stopped drinking. He has been giving more time to his wife and not to mention they both must have also been dreaming silently about the day when the boy would enter their lives with some much joy for them.

What do you think will happen next?

The bothers of Pema Lhamo were not reluctant enough to give away their new nephew. They promised Pema Lhamo that they would look after them as their own children.

As for Mr. Gurung, his life has changed for better after the incident. I guess he found some other meaning in life apart from the joy of having a baby, looking after him/her, schooling and helping him/her in getting a job and finally arranging a life partner. These are the simple reasons people link with their duty to survive. I haven’t seen him drinking for a long long time now. God Bless Him.

Yesterday I meet Pema Lhamo and her two brothers. They had gone to market to do some shopping to conduct a ritual at their house for the wellbeing of their new member. I went closer to Pema Lhamo and looked at the face of her child. He was asleep and nestling in his own mother’s torso.

Maymay Phodila and his new wife: A tale with a happy ending.

Carpenter by profession, Maymay(grandfather) Phodila who is 63 was always happy and did his carpentry works with a wide smile on his innocent wrinkled face. He and his wife use to live in a two storied mud plastered house made of wood and stones. His children are all grown up and are serving the nation in different parts of the country. At this moment of his life he still had every reason to live; a work at hand, wife at home, children living a decent life on their own. But Maymay Phodila had his own fate to deal with.

Maymay Phodila

Recently his wife Aum Yangden died. She was suffering from some terminal illness. She died on her way to Mongar Regional Hospital where she was taken for treatment. Maymay was devastated. Smile never found their way to his innocent wrinkled face. He became silent like the cloud. He started to hate staying in his own house. The villagers waited for their favorite carpenter to come out of the tragedy to do the best thing he does. Because if anyone in the village wanted to make any furniture Maymay Phodila was to summon.  So by the constant counseling by his children and neighbors he began to work again.

It was during such visit to a nearby village that Maymay Phodila asked an elderly woman to give him the mobile number of Aum Nima Chezom, 42 years old widow. Her husband died five years ago. He died a cheap death because he was a drunkard.   

Aum Tshedrup wangmo, my house owner’s wife, says that Maymay was apprehensive at first to talk about marriage with Aum Chezom. He had the number, he had the reason but he felt he was much older than her. So he was reluctant to ask her hand right on her face. Maymay Phodila then made up his mind to first ask her over the phone whether she is interested in old lads like him. If she is then he would go to her house and pop up the question and tie the knot with her.   

Aum Nima Chezom

The news spread like wildfire. It is typical of the eastern Bhutan. Nothing stays secret here. However the villagers and his children were of the opinion that he should wait at least for a year because it has been only four months since his wife’s death. But Maymay was unputdownable.

Aum Nima Chezom has her own story to tell. She has four children to look after. The eldest is 17.  Thanks to free education that they all go to school. Dorji Wangchuck and his sister Tenzin Dema are in class six, Dechen Dorji is in class five and the youngest is in class Three. She has the most wrecked house in the locality. And she is also considered to be one of the poorest in the village.  Her children often don’t bring lunch to school. Although Dorji and Tenzin are enlisted as Kedu students but that monetary fund could only help them in the academic sphere.  At home Aum chezom has to toil on her own small field with her tender hands to grow some potatoes, maize and millet. She has to work in others field to earn some hard cash. With some money earned by selling potatoes she has managed to replace the wooden roof with CGI.

Aum Nima Chezom's House

One woman shared with me that she once gave her everything; from laundry soap, to sugar, rice to cooking oil. I heard that Aum Chezom had once said to the villagers that her and her children’s life has become more comfortable with the support of the community than the days when her husband was alive. It shows how irresponsible he was.

When Maymay mustered all his courage to make the call of his life Aum Nima chezom answered in a simple and a straight YES. Maymay Phodila said, ‘’ nga hong cho ga la?’’(Can I come) and Aum Chezom replied, ‘’jan jan la’’ (Welcome).

 The villagers are happy for them, Aum Nima Chezom is smiling, Maymay is thrilled and children delighted. I am told that the children are pestering Maymay to buy a Television set and Dechen Dorji, the second son, who loves to play football, wants a pair of boot from his new daddy. Aum Chezom is more than glad because she now can rely on Maymay and send her two elder children, who will graduate this December from the community school here, to a boarding school nearby. Had Maymay didn’t come at this juncture of her life she would have discontinued one of her children’s schooling. He came as the savior. A lot of comfort came with the entry of Maymay Phodila in her life.

Dechen Dorji playing football

 On his part Maymay has promised to build a small house near the old one. Maymay occasionally visits his old house but he is found mostly in his new house with his new and much younger wife. The smile which was lost due to the death of his wife comes out in ease when someone teases him saying that his carpentry skills has improved a lot after getting married to a younger woman.

I believe in the dictum that says ‘Obstacles are given to Ordinary people to make them Extra-Ordinary. And Maymay Phodila is such a man.

Aum Jarim: A woman married to a soul who only knew when he is going to die.

Aum Dechen Choden, 29, who lives in a small wooden house just below my one roomed apartment, is a beautiful woman. I often flirtingly call her Aum Jarim. Is not that I call every women I meet as Aum Jarim, every nanny I talk to as Angay Jarim and every spinster who tickles my fancy as Boom Jarim. But a lot of consideration goes in naming them. It wasn’t to impress them though but to uphold the beauty of women.

Aum Jarim (Dechen Choden) at work.

Boom Jarim(Ugyen Lhamo, 27) is a spinster who lives in a hamlet just 20 minutes walk from my place with whom the villagers lovingly tease me and cajole me to marry her...they usually hyperlink the story of the Bhutanese blockbuster Seday in which a school teacher falls in love with a village girl.  And Angay Jarim( Chorten zam, 68) is a grandmother who lives in another hamlet which is 40 minutes walk. These three ladies share qualities that I adore the most in a woman. They are shy, disciplined, considered, strong and awesomely beautiful. And interestingly, they don’t drink too unlike other ladies here. This makes my heart to adore them even more.

Aum Dechen Choden is such a woman whom I admire the most among my Jarims. Now don’t adulterate the former line. I just adore her for the way she has been carrying herself before and after her husband’s death. I have found her being shy on occasions when village elders share some dirty talks with her. And I have seen her not at all enjoying it, like some do, and leaving the scene without saying a word. She talks less and she doesn’t have an eye on me or any other man.

The night their father left them.
( That night Karma was constantly asking about her father to her bereaved mother)

She has two wonderful daughters and a handsome son. Her son Tshering Gyeltshen is in class Three, the elder daughter Sonam Deki is in class One and their younger sister Karma Yangchen is in class PP.     

Her husband Sonam Tshering, the poor soul, was tall and muscular man. I was told by my house-owner’s wife Aum Tshedrup Wangmo that he had spent most of his marriage life in Thimphu enjoying the city life there than with his wife and children at home here.  She added that he used to pay a short visit but it has been more than three years since his last departure. Apart from sending a few thousand Ngultrums a year he couldn’t do anything else. He was also unavailable at the time when she gave birth to their third child. What else can be so heartbreaking for a wife than to realize that her husband is far away unknown and bother less of her giving birth to their own baby? He was a man who nobody wanted as a husband. He didn’t even have a regular job. Whatever amount he earned to live his otherwise poise life in the most expensive city was by setting up stalls and selling plastic goodies on festivals especially tsechus held across the country. He was basically a small merchant who was homeless as well as heartless.

 I first saw Sonam Tshering on February of this year. He was here after three long years. He was standing in front of a small bamboo hut where his wife and children use to live. I wondered how they had spent their nights for so many years in that small hut. Because the walls were so thin that chilly wind easily got in. Her children didn’t have warmer clothes to wear. They didn’t have enough blankets to cover themselves and so they all had to warm themselves sitting around a fire before they retire to their beds. My visit to her place had been always filled with sad memories.

But things started to change drastically after the father’s “holy” return to his house. Few days after his arrival he and his father in- law started to build their present house. The house is much warmer and spacious compared to their old bamboo hut. The kitchen utensils and blankets also increased in number. New cotton/woolen clothes for kids and a warm coat for his beautiful wife. Imported Rice cooker, water boiler and curry cooker which were considered luxury before soon occupied the shelves in their new house. A gas cylinder and a stove were also bought by her husband. The life of Aum Jarim and her three children soon became more comfortable. Aum Jarim happily once said that the gasoline stove has helped her make tea faster for occasional visitors like me.  

The Father helped build this wooden house. (Backdrop: The old bamboo hut)

Gradually the cheap and bad reputation of the father soon begins to fade away. Frequent Kow kow (local word for gossip) among elderly women regarding him proved that he has won the hearts and respect of the community.

But the goodness was too good to last long. On his last journey as a shopkeeper in the recent Yunphula Tsechu he was taken to Trashigang hospital by his friends where he took his last breath.

What I learnt from this story is that Sonam Tshering’s soul knew he was going to die soon. So he came back to his house, to his wife, to his children just to provide them with all necessary things before he depart for his heavenly HOME.