Revisiting
Childhood Days
Part
I – Rural Growth: A blessing in disguise
The article will be
full of digression. Please bear with me. My thought is bizarre, so is my
writing.
I was born and brought
up in a far-flung village in Lhuntse Dzongkhag – to be more specific Ladrong
under Jarey Gewog; the gewog once considered as the least developed gewogs in
Bhutan. I can still remember that the annual gewog performance ranking would be
205 for Jarey Gewog. Indeed, the last rank! The nearest market and road
connectivity are 15kms away from our Gewog. Kurichhu and rugged terrains played
their part in thwarting the developmental activities. Until 2010, we did not
have electricity and until 2012, we did not have road connectivity. We are
isolated.
 |
| Ladrong Primary School and Ladrong BHU - II. Photo Courtesy: Ms. Reidi, Himalayan View |
Until I was 12 years
old, I have not been to the nearest road point cum market area - Autsho. It was
only when my dad decided to take me to market place to buy some basic
necessities for upcoming local festival – Lha[1].
And I assure my readers that during those days only privileged few of
my contemporaries got to go there. My experience was – I was in another part of
the world. I realised that there are settlements beyond hills of my village and
plains at the foothills. I saw motor vehicle for the first time. Being a
barbaric village boy, I had to run away when someone starts the engine. I haven’t
heard such annoying sound before. All I was acquainted with were sweet melody
of brooks, early morning zephyr, chirping of birds and those of cattle, horses,
cats, cocks and dogs. My dad asked, indeed, requested the shopkeeper to give me
a peg of orange squash. I took a sip and I was like what – these people take
sweet water made out of tsalu[2]
all the time!
Ah! I forgot one thing.
While crossing Kurichhu Bridge, something took away my eyes with the flow of
river. Later I realized that it was motion sickness.
I had seen car in 2000.
Until 2001, I haven’t ridden one. In 2001, when I was in class five, there was
inter-primary school Dzongkha[3]
Mid-term Exam performance competition. I was informed that I was one of the
prize recipients. It was announced that the prize will be awarded during the
National Day Celebration in Thimyul. Three others students from my community
won the award. Our fathers were guardians. On 15 December 2001, we came to
Autsho (my second time) to travel to Lhuntse to hold a night before proceeding
to Thimyul on 16th. My dad told me that we will be going by sa-ri-b-c.[4]
I was already imagining so-called sa-ri-b-c must be a huge object for its going
to carry all five of us. I was told by people in my villages that first timers
will puke when traveling in gari.[5] I
was tensed and whenever I saw cars coming towards me or going away I used to
get butterflies in my stomach. Finally at 03:30pm the sa-ri-b-c arrived. It was
a green DCM truck. We climbed and took seat on an empty wooden bench fixed on
the cargo bed of the DCM. The engine started and everything was moving along
with me. I told my aku[6]
who was sitting next to me that why all the trees and mountains are moving. He
told me to look at the very distant trees and mountains. I nearly puked but I managed
withstand it. I was able to debunk the myth of puking while riding motor
vehicle for the first time. The night that we spent in a forest below a
footpath on the basin of Kurichhu on 16th December 2001 was so
romantic. The fire that our parents made to cook and warm us was so charming
that Wordsworth, Shelley or Keats would have written a poem describing that
beautiful night. The melodious flow of Kurichhu in darkness added a soothing
charm of the serene night in Thimyul forest. My dad and I carried a blanket and
he allowed me to use it. He must have spent sleepless night adding woods to
keep fire alive.
 |
| Waterfall on the way to Jarey Gewog from Autsho Dergang Chhu PC: Ms. Reidi, Himalayan Views |
My world started
widening as I grow up. My four year stay at Tangmachu Middle Secondary School
and two year stay at Lhuntse Higher Secondary School, erstwhile known as Phuyum
Higher Secondary School had allowed me to see other part of the world through books
and occasionally through television. When most of my classmates talked so much
about going to Thimphu and Phuntsholing during winter vacation and having fun,
I would just recalled my happy vacation back at village herding cows, going to
jungle to bring bamboos and collect firewood. At times, our friends would keep
on talking their fun times in hostel room late into the night, and I used to
think why I am really unfortunate. I have not gone beyond Mongar until 2007. But
I used to console myself that I will study hard and will go to see Thimphu one
fine day.
However, I was
contended being in village. I used to interact with elders in my village, learn
values and skills from them. I get to go to different households for chogu.[7]
Moreover, I was with my parents. Today I can proudly say I know certain level
of cane and bamboo works, wood works and masonry. I know all most all the
farming works – from ploughing of field to cultivation of paddy; from sowing of
seed to harvesting. I know how to milk the cows, churn the milk, extract butter
and make cheese. I know so many wild products which are edible. Thank you Apa
and Ama[8]
for not having any relatives in Thimphu during my upbringing.
In 2008, I was selected
to participate in the first ever Golden Youth Camp in Thimphu. The journey,
though by bus, it was really enthralling. When I reached Thimphu, I realized
that it is a big city. I kept on forgetting routes. The funniest one is I was
on Lungtenzampa Bridge and I could not find the way to go to the bus stand. I
walked over the bridge four times. And someone saw me doing that time and again
with a bag on my shoulder and asked me “is everything all right?” I replied to
him that I am looking for a way to go to bus stand. With a broad smile on his
face, he showed me the way right in front of me. I had failed to notice steps
leading to bus stand right under my nose. Thimphu was too crowded and noisy for
me then.
My dad is a chowkidar
in Basic Health Unit – II (BHU-II) in my village. People used to refer to him
as chowchilla[9].
And children – chowchilai busa gangpo. [10] It’s
a kind of discrimination. My mom is a farmer. Her health is fragile and most of
the time she used to fall sick and even today she does. Both my parents are my
inspiration and my role model. They are indeed, HEROS. With their proper
guidance, I am where I am today. As I sit in the hut of my office terrace, I can
vividly remember how my parents suffered for our upbringing. Access to monetary
activities is limited those days. My parents struggled to get Nu 150 to pay our
school fee. Though life was hard in rural areas, my parents never let us feel
hardship. My dad and mom would go and attend the chogu of relatives.
However, whatever meat item is being served, they would not eat. They would
pack meat in bangchung[11]
and bring to their kids. Such a love and care! A selfless love. Kadrinchey beyond
the earth and sky.
To
be continued…
Thank You Your Majesties and the Philosophy of GNH - [upcoming]
[1] Bon festival celebrated in
Maedtsho and Jarey Gewog in Lhuentse, and Tsamang and Banjar Gewog in Mongar
Dzongkhag.
[2] Orange.
[3] The National Language of Bhutan
[4]
During those days, the people in our community used to pronounce service
as Sa-ri-b-c. It is a daily transport service between Mongar and Lhuntse operated
by Jampel Transport Services in Lhuntse.
[5] Car
[7] Annual Puja
[8] Father and mother
[9] Chowkidar/caretaker/sweeper
[10] Children of that chowkidar
[11] Cane product which serve as a
food storage
No comments:
Post a Comment