One Night at Supermarket

Do you ever feel lucky? I mean life treats us mysteriously you know. No matter how much we say that life is what we make, I feel we are somehow controlled by some invisible thread which we fail to notice but mind you if we are wise enough and we happen to catch that very moment, we can’t do anything but to believe, appreciate and accept the fact that life is actually full of surprises. Life never fails to amuse us although unexpectedly, I may not have had the best times, but I also had not the worst, so life has been pretty fair so to say. I may not be born of to a well-off family, but life hasn’t been cruel either, I have had friends, the best of best on the rescue and I am very indebted to them. I have never forgotten the times when I have been lifted and rescued form some nasty and embarrassing moments for the only the incidents our memory can track of are either the worst or the best.

Anyway life has become pretty busy for me recently, we are going deeper into our course from the surface to the integral nitty-gritty parts which keeps us busy not just during days but night as well. But in between I wanted to share about an incident at a supermarket during one of my casual work. After vigorous work for about three hours, it was break time. I decided to buy a can of juice, a cup noodle and a packet of chips. I paid in cash but the beautiful lady at the counter was looking bit uneasy. I thought did I look that terrible not realizing that I was paying Bangladeshi rupee instead of Dollar. She blinked and said sorry to me. I did not believe her until I looked, my hand holding it. How stupid and embarrassing it was! Then I realized my stupidity; there was 20 note Bangladeshi rupee in my wallet which was given my brother and kept as a collection. Before I started my work, I decided to keep my wallet in the locker room and take 20 dollar cash instead just in case I needed. Instead of dollar, I put 20 rupee in my pant pocket and went to work. By the way, the currency notes are almost same in colour except in size. So there I was standing frozen in front of beautiful lady all blushed and trying hard to hide my embarrassment. When I was about to tell her that I will go bring my and then pay, another girl, a workmate came in for the rescue.

“I can pay for him” came the voice, the most wanted word at that moment and before I wasn’t even vanished of my red cheeky and hot ears, she paid, smiled and went on. I murmured thank you and sorry to the lady at counter, who reciprocated with an odd smile. I forced back smile and went upstairs (the rest room) to join crowds of workmates. The girl who rescued me was among them, my thankful eyes caught her glittering smile. Only if she could know how much grateful I was for saving me? I thanked her after the work and gave her the cash back, obviously she refused.

Although the so-called big things do matter in life, it is those little things that comes with genuinely with heart that has an impounding effect, thus my story. I treaded wondering what could have I done in the past?

The question of survival

Whenever I socialize and interact with friends in Facebook and other social Medias after usual exchange of hi and hellos, the conversations after telling them where I am right now usually turn into marking me as a ‘Dollar’ man, it is very funny you know. Some even asks me like how is dollar thing going on and how much dollar I am making as if I am here to make dollars. Well, first thing first, I am not here work and make dollars, I am here for training, to study sent by the company I work for. And my sole purpose and priority remains this: to complete the course successfully, go back and serve anyway I can. But as a matter of fact, because of ample time especially in weekends and during semester breaks, I have considered doing some casual and part time job suitable to this timings. Beside the course isn’t that tough for it is just level 3 course. And fortunately or fortunately I got in one of the super market as a casual Long life Assistant. I go to the work whenever the manager calls me, which is not just convenient but also a source to help me meet the expenses in this expensive country.

And considering the current situations, after hearing lot of hear says and emails, this searching and getting part time job has become some kind of necessity., because we just heard that our stipends from the company will be reduced by about one third of what we ought to get (which we were informed at the beginning) for the completion of course. The accounts division now says that in accordance with the finance ministry’s proposal, the people going on long term training to other countries are supposed to get as a monthly stipend and not on DSA basis irrespective of corporation or government agencies. We are already given almost two third of the revised amount and this leaves us in an awkward situation with the question of survival at here because the amount of stipend we brought along with us which is more than two third of the revised amount is almost already spent and we still have more than six months to stay and complete the course.

Any way the point is, it isn’t always as people see it form outside. Just because one live in dollar country doesn’t mean one get load of dollars just out of nowhere. It is that sweat you shed, the nights of peaceful sleep you sacrificed and the harsh climate any situations you battled.   I don’t know how much this part time job will compensate but we sure are in desperate situation; it is about survival here! I don’t know who is to blame, but had we been informed about the new changes and not given us these false hopes in the beginning before we were sent here, we could have had different story, we would have been wise to manage and adjust the living out here according to that. Five thousand USD is not a small amount! But again what can we do? It is water under the bridge and our only viable option is to try manage, survive and leave.

However, otherwise, the place is treating us pretty well and it is hell lot of learning, I wish to take maximum out of it. Happy weekends!

On Boring Break

Our life is most of the time a battle between the expectation and reality. Life isn’t a bed of roses, yet as human being, who gives up battling? Who doesn’t wish and try for that glory and beauty of sunshine? Every one of us have our own right to battle, to fight and we are so consumed by such battles that we don’t often realize even how the time fleets away. In reality we like to battle! When others around us fares well, we envy them and we feel bad. Thus we strive to equate, we dream big, we aim for perfection although the word perfection is often misconstrued. What kind of thing is perfect anyway? Why do we have to copy others? Why can’t we find solace in our self? The life really sucks sometimes, everything is driven by competition. Why can’t we live our own? We say one thing and does another. We live and built castles on virtual world of expectations, we are paranoid to notice until when realities set in, until we are back to the square one and the cycle just repeats. Yet life goes on…..

Anyway since 8^th July 13, 2015 it has been semester break for two weeks and you see there is yet again problem, I mean it is funny that we (I) don’t like either just the indefinite breaks without anything to do than to eat, sleep and stay glued with your computer, it is boring. I don’t situation is ideal? I have tried hard to bring back the interest in reading and finally today I am done with “The Ravine” by Robert Pascuzzi which is a good read about the evil, love, hope, forgiveness and the afterlife. It is a book full of inspirational sentences. It is a good antidote for stressed and depressed mind. Well, I ain’t a good reviewer, I leave it all for you to decide, but definitely I would recommend to read. Although it is most of it is to do with Jesus (the god), I feel the essence, and the message it conveys through a very captivating story is just applicable to whether one is Christian or not. Just read to know it for yourself.

My next book is “Three Marriages” by George Loukas. I don’t know how it is but this is yet another time pass for this cold winter semester break. What are you reading?

Happy days…….

Name and Fashion

Source: Google

We all have our favorite name which we like others to call us. If we go back and see, we notice that most of the names of our parents and grandparents are situation or date based. If you are born on 10 day of Bhutanese calendar, you are Tshechu something or Chenga something or Namang something if born on 15th or 30th respectively. I have a friend who was born on blessed rainy day and is called Babjey. There are others who are called out of love by their parents which seem to have become like something to make fun of. Are these not interesting? I mean at least we have reasons behind. My name was my great grandfather’s and i was named to remember him. This is yet another popular culture where Bhutanese parents wants their children to be named with by the names of their forefathers.

Bhutanese parents usually take their new born to a local Lama or Rinpoche to get names. But lately have you notice that the naming of new born are becoming a fashion to most Bhutanese parents. It is amazing that a fashion has this much affect. Every parents wants their child to be name with first, middle and last names. Why it has to be Karma Sonam Dema or something like that? I don’t know (I ain’t dad yet..lol) Did you know of our parents and before them who had more than two names? Well, very rarely as far as I know of and that too for some special reasons, but it’s like a new trend now. Bhutanese parents just doesn’t seem to be complete if their child is not named with first, middle and last name. I have a friend who recently had a child, a daughter and was named with three names because every parents have their child with three names and so was theirs. He said that in future when all are friends are called with long names she might feel bad and blame them. That may be true because even a small thing seem to matter. Our children are clever and smart. The system and society they grow up in makes them prudent and something like this would really matter.

This is something very new, some kind of transition happening to Bhutanese people if not really a trending fashion. Can anyone in census registration division find out the pattern of names our children are registered with? This is just out of curiosity and I am certain there will be a proof in there, I however like to call it a Fashion…:P

The Dollar Thing

The pasture on the other side is not always greener as a matter of fact. Often we are deceived by our own intuition that we are worse ourselves and others better, we are deceived by the notion that life abroad (particularly Australia) is always better, always lucrative and easy while the reality isn’t. The physical appearances that we often see on the social Medias like Facebook is just a show, a show that displays behind that broad smile and fancy dresses or delicious foods on table is an equal amount of pain, hardship and struggle. The dollar thing has become the word which I think is used too superficially. The Kuensel’s story about 20 Bhutanese being robbed and cheated says it all but not even a part of real story because the story doesn’t end after you reach there or after you get visa, it is just the beginning.

The unfortunate and pity story shows how we Bhutanese are easily influenced and easily driven by dollar thing and some good lip service. It shows how we become victim and are easily defeated by that temptation of wanting more and getting more. 90 percent of Bhutanese wouldn’t deny their wanting to join this bandwagon if opportunity knocks their door. After all who wants to get rot on the same chair and receive the same amount of meagre salary at the end of month when everything that really matters in modern world is money, comfort and wealth? But the sad thing is that the realities are different.

I study in New Zealand and considering the fact that Australia and New Zealand is almost same in all sense, I don't see and feel that life there (or here) is a blessing at all. Of course there are Bhutanese whom I know, living kingly life here. Their jobs are secured and honorable and so is their life. But that is exception and not the point. I have heard from reliable sources that in Australia there are too many Bhutanese that often there are cases like thefts, fights and commotions among themselves. It is a shame, which only indicate a strong wave of desperation. Even to get a cleaning job (which is perhaps the only option for most) is not easy, we ought to submit curriculum vitae, go through all the screening process and test. So if you are thinking about all these I say consider thinking twice. It is a different story about those studying on scholarships, otherwise I say back off.

Back to School

 Once again I am back to school days I mean back to teaching-learning season only difference that it is a different one. Waking up at 6AM, preparing pack lunch for the day, readying for an interesting day and riding on the bike for twenty minutes to the institute, I love it. I have always liked going to school as a kid, no matter how much beatings I got for doing naughty or for not doing well in studies, it never occurred to me that I will leave going to school.

As a matter of fact I still remember when I was six years old and my mom took me for admission to a nearby school (lauri primary school, year 1995) which was an hour walk from my house. The principal was Mr. Dawa Tshering (I don’t know where he is now) who rejected my admission after knowing that I was too young to walk in the morning and evening to and from the school as a day scholar. I remember crying like little baby, nagging my mom and resisting to go back home while my mother was dragging me out of embarrassment herself. It wasn’t just me, there was yet another, a friend and my cousin who was two years older than me. He was rejected too and he too was taken to by his loquacious mother. The problem with him was although aged for preprimary admission, he was short, and couldn’t touch his left ear over the head by his right hand and so he failed the usual testimony and hence rejection. We cried in unison till the gate of school which convinced our parents to once again request the principal to reconsider. In the meantime I also had another elder cousin brother who was in class six then.  I guess because of him, the notion that he might take care of us both, the principal was convinced and we both got admitted to school. I don’t remember how since then the time flew, but I have never in my life regretted and hated going to school. Going to school was so much better in many ways. As a day scholar, we were served lunch from the school and guess what, it was rice and dhal and Japanese tinned fish which was rather new for us and a kind of picnic ..:P

Going to school escaped so many things, from cattle and scary jungles, field works under the blazing sun and stormy rain and the worst ever- flour (Bokpi as we call in sharchop, I hated so much as a child, remember we were served with lunch at school?) I don’t know how that first year passed but I managed to get pass. Then when I reached class II my parents enrolled me as a boarder student since I had to walk more than hour to school. It was tiring for me and my parents after all it was better staying in hostel and frankly I liked the boarder life although the worst I can remember now out of all the odd is about the starvation. The food served from school mess was just never enough. Most of the time we (I) would go to bed with half-filled belly. Sometimes when rushing for second share, friends could get into that big mess pot! What a memory? And quite frankly who cares about education or passion as young kids? It was out of mere fear or something else that would drive us into studying harder. Who would have known all the rubbish about passion or ambition or logics behind the theories anyway? We just needed to get pass, that’s all.  But somehow it feels so right to have experienced it all because it is the starting point, the basic foundation.

Now when I go to the institute every day it is different, every day I go to the institute with the aim to learn something new, to with the aim to be able to do well so that when time comes I don’t have to think back and regret about all the bygone days. This is my passion, my love and profession after all, a trade that demands dedication, hard work, consistency, experience and exposure. Flying in the air is not a Joke and so is preparing to be able to do so. Every day I wake up with the wish that I take most out of this ten months duration of going to this marvelous school. Three months is already gone and it has been pretty fine so far, hope it will be the same for the remaining months as well.

Happy weekends…J

Evening's Rambling Thoughts

I was wondering how a little things in life give us so much joy and happiness, how a broken pieces of simple toys can have great impact in us and how even one step ahead or behind in life can make huge difference. Even being able to understand so clearly the basic concepts in class rooms can ignite and make you feel so contended and satisfied; it is like why didn't I realize it before? If only i knew it before?

Engineering wasn't really my thing, but somehow I ended taking that up by chance and consequently landed into a completely different industry-Aviation, an industry that works on trust, integrity and honesty and I tell you it isn't that simple. What is so simple without challenge anyway? Three months into doing basic course and i am already thinking like what have i learnt in one and half years as a trainee engineer? What have i learn doing B-tech for four years? Every day is a new stage, an unfold of new world and every week an exam day to assess.
The beauty that adds to this is the faulty we are taught by. We only know how much we could have done had there been a teacher in school life who really loved and cared about his or her profession. But sadly in Bhutan we have just too little teacher who are genuinely interested in their profession and who struggles to make go classroom out of genuine interest. I hate to say but there are just few.

I wish if only our teachers are bit more honest and mindful. When a student throws question, either the teachera take it as a challenge, get their ego hurt or the students are discouraged and embarrass in front hurting their self esteem. This results student confining to themself, feared and full of doubts. But this is just a generalization which I have noticed, I still salute to all the teachers whom I have been taught by. Fortunately I have met some of the best ones and I thank them.

Just some rambling thoughts, have a good weekend folks.
Cheers...!

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