Our youth may be the future but we – my generation, are currently the leaders with the power, experience, resources, networks, wisdom, exposure and knowledge. How about we channel them to help fulfill this royal aspiration of the world’s first mindfulness city? How about even if we as private citizens come together?
So, I am on a chartered flight with some potential investors to the Mindfulness City. My second such flight. This time I also took the opportunity to fill up the plane with my teachers, and with few ordinary people who work for me and who have never flown before.😀😀😀
Fortunately the flight was smooth. Otherwise some of my Bhutanese guests would have passed out. This aircraft does not fly enough to avoid the mountain wave gushes. This flight was very ably piloted by the first father-daughter pilot duo of Bhutan – the veteran, Chenda Wangchuk, and his daughter.
A huge gratitude to the newly-appointed Governor Dr. Lotay Tshering (he even humbly drove us around) and the Thrompon and his team for hosting us from the moment we landed to the time we took off again.
Thanks also goes to my old friend from gokha days, Dasho Dubala, for the Riwo Sangchoe rituals which he had organised right on the day we visited. What a beautiful coincidence! It was not planned at all. This type of synchronicity (madribi tendrel in Dzongkha) augurs well. I was told that as we were setting there for a reception tea, a vulture circled over us three times and then flew away.
😎😎😎
(NB – My next article on GMC is titled: What is this “mindfulness” in the mindfulness city?)
Ever wondered what is behind the closed doors of the sacred Goenkang (chamber of the tutelary deities). Well, there are many religious objects, and the most important ones are the tormas that represent the particular protector deity.
Torma (གཏོར་མ་) generally refers to the dough and butter sculptures, which are made during and for religious sermons in Buddhism. The word, torma, comes from two words tor (གཏོར་) which means ‘casting away” of impurities, defilements and negativities or giving away selflessly to all sentient beings with the kind of motherly love, and hence the second word, ma (མ་), which means ‘mother’.
A legend goes that the Torma tradition was started by Ananda – Gautama Buddha’s cousin and attendant. Story goes that he was once meditating in the forest when a ferocious hungry ghost appeared to him and wanted to eat him. Ananda ran to the Buddha and told him what happened. The Buddha advised Ananda to make an effigy of himself and offer it to the hungry ghost with prayers and compassion. Ananda did that and the hungry ghost was appeased. The tradition of Torma was then established.
As Buddhism flourished and took different forms and sects, so did the shape and scope of torma evolve to embrace the local traditions, cultures and beliefs. Today in Vajrayana Buddhism world, there are many types of torma such as lütor (གླུད་གཏོར་) or the torma with effigy, chutor (ཆུ་གཏོར་) or torma with water, lenchag torma (ལན་ཆགས་གཏོར་མ་) or torma for karmic debtors, lutor (ཀླུ་གཏོར་) or torma for nāga serpent spirits, or gektor (གེགས་གཏོར་) or torma for the obstructing evil forces.
A type of tormas is the representations of the devas and the deities. The shape of these tormas vary from one to the other depending on the deity the torma represents. These types of torma includes the yidam torma (ཡི་དམ་གཏོར་མ་) representing enlightened deities, chökyong torma (ཆོས་སྐྱོང་གཏོར་མ་) representing protector deities, and zhidak torma (གཞི་བདག་གཏོར་མ་) representing local territorial deities. Some of these torma, especially when they represent the tutelary protector deities, are kept hidden in the shrine.
The one in the picture is of Aum Palden Lhamo (Sri Devi) – one of the Eight Great Dharmapalas in Tibetan Buddhism and her retinue, and which I commissioned for Athang Rukha (abode of Palden Lhamo).
These tormas are made from incense powder and water collected from holy places around the Himalayas. Today on the post-ngenpa guzom day, coinciding with Tara Day, I offered it to the temple there. May our supreme protector deity guard us, as we embark on an ambitious venture as a nation.
JO RAMO JO, RAMO JO JO, RAMO TUNJO, KALA RACHENMO, RAMO AJA DAJA, TUNJO, RULU RULU, HUNG JO HUNG
It is not every day that a National Medal winner does your hair, but here in this Country, you can, because the medallist is back to his work. Nothing much has changed in him, except he has become more motivated in what he was already doing.
Today I took the opportunity to congratulate a fellow Tashigangpa and an old friend from Tashigang street football days, Mr. Ugyen Deepak, on being honoured by His Majesty the King with the prestigious National Order of Merit on the National Day. His recognition is a testament that you don’t have to hold a high position or status to be recognised, or to serve the nation.
Deepak was born in Trashigang, and spent more time there than me. Our fathers were friends. Now, he knows more of my relatives than I do – all my distant nieces and nephews. He is an institution in Trashigang, but now he is also a national figure – a role model and a teacher to many young Desuups.
He misses being in Trashigang but says, “duty calls”. So, he is taking a short leave soon to go there to report to protector deity Gara Wangchuk, because he has been away for a long time. His wife understands “but the local deity may not. You know that!” he adds. We planned to cost-share the appeasement rituals he would conduct to our common birth deity.
Today, as we were chatting and catching up with our lives and families, and how he felt being bestowed with such an honour by the Highest Office of the land, I remembered an earlier conversation we had.
I once asked him what was one golden piece that his father, Thakurji, gave him. Without a second thought, he replied, “My father told me whether I wanted to become an engineer or a doctor, it was my choice, but as far he was concerned, I should never abandon the scissors and the comb. Because that is what our forefathers did. That is where our yang (fortune) lies.”
He chose to honour his father’s advice despite being a brilliant student.
The story goes that his ancestors were barbers to Gautama Buddha. Maybe that’s why his father insisted. I am sure he must be smiling down on my friend.
Joining everyone in congratulating him and wishing him a long, healthy life of service to our King and youth.
Paid my homage on the Nyilo Day to our founding father, Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyel, at the sacred Machen Lhakhang in Punakha Dzong. Sought his blessings for the new year and what he thought of me coming out of my semi-retirement. He responded with a perfect dice number which means, Awesome! (this is according to the caretaker-monk).
Waking the Talk.
On this day I completed revising the Buddhist iconography, and Foundation of Buddhism, which were two courses I taught this group of 200+ young Bhutanese – in September and October. (To all the Tour agencies maliks, please know that I trained these guys. So take them with blind faith).
I also gave the guys some peptalk where I told them not to only find faults in the stars, the society or the state but to look at themselves in the mirror and challenge themselves first.
I said, “We always think it is someone’s fault when life does not go our way. You know, for me I am my biggest biggest obstacle. For instance, these days I feel too lazy to go for morning walks. I keep rejecting all job offers because I don’t want to work full-time. I struggle to eat healthy, or work as hard as I used to. At your age I used to work 18 hours a day. Can you do that? Can you wake up at 5 in the morning, work like crazy, and go to bed at midnight for 5 years every day?”
I told them to just go out, explore and grab every opportunity, take what comes their way, and they will eventually find their place and purpose in the world. At the very least, they could carry some boulders at GMC. The world may be unfair but you can’t change it if you only look for excuses.
Aum Om’s Homestay
On the eve of the Nyilo I had a free meal (she refused to take the payment) at Aum Om’s Homestay. After running around in foreign land for months I wanted to eat something authentic Bhutanese, and I called her up. Aum Om is the sister of the legendary artist Asha Karma of VAST. The homestay, certified for tourists, is tucked away in the quiet corner overlooking the Punakha valley.
Aum Om is a quintessential Bhutanese lady – super warm, generous, strong, dignified, and a great homemaker. Her place is an oasis of peace and perfection. (If you want to go there, and you must, you can find her place on Google Map too)
The National Day is a day of reflection as a nation. It is a reminder of who we are as people and a day of introspection for individuals of the sense of nationhood we possess. With globalisation, urbanisation and outmigration facing every country – including ours, the National Day has gained more prominence in the life of our country in recent times.
Like many Bhutanese, I watched the 117th National Day online. I was travelling for work. And like many, I shed a tear of joy and hope – especially touched by His Majesty the King’s words that he would make his young children work at the project sites at the upcoming mindfulness city.
The King-People bond
Recently, I watched a movie—Taking Chance. This small-budget film, based on a true story, has a simple but powerful storyline. It shows how Americans honour their people who make the ultimate sacrifice for the country. The respect, tribute, and honour for the fallen hero, as the casket makes its way back to his hometown, is viewed as the soul of America itself.
As a Bhutanese, I have often asked, what is the soul of Bhutan as a nation? What is that one sacrosanct thing we should hold dear?
In my PhD fieldwork, I have found that among many national symbols and beliefs, such the national flag, religion, or a fixed ideology it is the institution of the monarchy that emerges at the top.
Furthermore, every family in Bhutan sees the King as an extension of the family. This is because the King-People bond – as in the love and care that the King has for the subjects and the genuine respect and gratitude that the people have for the monarch goes beyond the simple ruler-ruled dynamics. It is more like a parent-offspring relationship. This is the soul of the Bhutanese nation. A glue that binds the country together in unity and harmony.
During His Majesty’s visit to Australia, some Bhutanese in Perth resigned from their jobs to attend the event to see the King. The tears our people shed there were tears of overwhelming joy of seeing what we in Bhutanese refer to the King as drinchen ghi phama (meaning ‘parents to whom we owe much’). The fact that His Majesty crossed an ocean to go and meet his subject is unheard of in the history of mankind, in general. Likewise, the videos of people lined up for kilometres in freezing temperatures in Thimphu on the eve of the National Day is yet another testament to the above.
Hence, this sacrosanct soul of the nation should never be tainted, compromised, or broken. No individuals or institutions should stand between the King and the people. Otherwise we lose everything.
The Call of Duty – and the Golden Generation
In the life of a nation, every generation gets a call of duty. For Generation Z and Generation Alpha, the Gelephu Mindfulness City (GMC) project is the Call. However, my generation is not excused from this call, either, because no generation is better equipped to understand the magnitude of what we are about to create, its benefit for the future generation and its value in our journey towards nation-building and sovereignty.
For my generation, it was to enrol in modern schools. Then, when we passed our high school, the smart ones were sent out on fellowships to study science and engineering and return to serve the King, people and the government. We did that. Some did more, some did less, but every Bhutanese of my generation who went on government scholarship returned home and did the best. We built modern health services, RNR extension centres, public infrastructures and communication systems like radio, TV and Internet.
My generation saw the country evolve from the days of struggling with basic economic necessities to flashing around Prados and smartphones – and everything in between. We come from the school of hard knocks, where we survived the bedbugs and hunger in poorly resourced boarding schools and where we had to fight for the last scoop of broth in the school mess. For the most part, we went barefoot, where even Bata slippers were a luxury.
My generation also learnt the ways of our elders and ancestors, seamlessly embracing both science and spiritualism and believing in both Maxwell’s field theory and Buddha’s four noble truths.
In short, we brought the world to Bhutan and took Bhutan to the world. We made them fall in love with our commitment to happiness. The experiences of living in the best of both worlds make us the Golden Generation, who is now called to perform one last song. As I joked with someone at the Bhutan Innovation Forum, paraphrasing a line from one of my favourite movies (Good, Bad and the Ugly), some people will talk, and some people will have to dig. We must, therefore, fish back our safety helmets, dust off our gumboots and show up one more time with “axes and spades” (tari toktsi) – as a Bhutanese adage goes.
Our generation must not only lead and inspire the next generation. Those of us with a sphere of influence in the government or public life must shed off our selfish and often corrupt and red-taped past. Instead, we need to open our eyes to new immense possibilities of the royal vision and solidly rally behind it. In this way, we would be giving back to the country that gave us so much.
What can you do? A lot
His Majesty’s royal address has moved us, but getting inspired and taking no action gets us nowhere. “To know and not do is the same as not knowing” – so an old Bhutanese proverb goes. However, one must also recognise that as a society, we are schooled to seek permission to even take a toilet break or to wait for instruction for every little thing. It is not that people are always passive or indifferent. So, when it comes to the Mindfulness City project, here are a few of the many actionable things you could do.
Firstly, you can volunteer your time or resources to the Vajrayana centres that are being built or are coming up. This is the easiest way. As we say in Bhutanese, it is time to pave the path for your next existence. Remember that whether you take action or not, you will age, and it is better to grow old by looking back and seeing things you have done rather than look back and say, “I should have done this or that”.
Second, for those who are working outside the country, the GMC’s official bank – The Oro Bank, invites you to make fixed deposits in foreign currency. The capital raised will go towards developing the basic infrastructure like airports and bridges. After ten years, your money will be back to you with interest.
There is, however, something deeper in this Oro Bank initiative for the Bhutanese diaspora. In my view, it is about giving those living abroad a sense of being a part of this ambitious project and a connection to our home called Bhutan. It is more than just about money. It is about restoring the sense of belonging and ownership in the destiny of future Bhutan. One need not respond to the call to duty by relocating back immediately but by supporting the initiatives back in our country – financially and morally.
Third, and most importantly, let’s learn to love each other and support one another beyond our social status and professions, and avoid categorizations and classifications. Let us look up to those who are better than us and look out for those who are less endowed and less resourced. Let’s try not to unsee our accomplished people or undo their achievements. Let’s focus on human power – and not just on hydropower.
For people of my generation, as I was sharing with two instructors of the Desuung Skilling Centres, we need to groom the next generation, nurture them, guide them, scold them and put them on the path to livelihood and righteousness. Otherwise, who will? Consultants will come and go. But this country – someday, we would have to hand it over to our children. They must be prepared to receive it and take it forward by honouring with integrity and pride and with everything that makes up the glorious nation of Pelden Drukpa. The duty to uplift our people and communities and truly care for our country falls squarely on us, the Bhutanese.
Nation-building is a work in progress. And by nation-building, I am referring to the sense of nationhood and that feeling of oneness as people – and not the highways, hydropower dams or hospitals. Unless the citizens have a shared dream and a common purpose, unless there is unity, solidarity, and harmony, a country with a physical territory of humans and animals and nature does not necessarily guarantee peace, prosperity, or progress.
The GMC project provides that common purpose and a collective dream, which is envisioned by our King, who unites us as people and as a nation and whose bond with the people has sustained the test of time.
May the Sun of happiness truly shine on us – as a line from the National Anthem goes.
Dongkala stands at almost 4,000 meters above sea level and commands a view over Thimphu, Paro and Chukha Valleys. It also stands on the mouth of Paro valley (site of Bhutan’s only international airport) and thus, this place is where the airlines also seek blessings for safe operations.
As a frequent flier, I always seek the blessings of this temple for a safe and successful journey. Of late, I have been travelling a lot for work. I took three to-and-fro flights out of Paro in a single month. So, I felt I owe a visit to this marvellous temple overlooking half of the Bhutanese territory. I wanted to pay my homage and gratitude for the awesome trips I just had.
One thing that I like about Dongkala is that it invokes all the protector deities in both the Nyingma and the Drukpa Kagyu tradition. From my mom’s side I have a long list of Nyingma dharmapalas, while from my father’s side I have to invoke the dharmapalas from the Kagyu tradition. Hence, I feel super protected – the maximum protection one can get.
Beyond that Dongkala is home to the sacred Ter statue discovered by Terton Pema Lingpa from Mebar Tsho in Bumthang. And hence, I feel blissful just to be in its presence in the main hall of Dongkala. There is also the Talking Guru statue and the memorial stupa containing the mortal remains of the founder of Dongkala – Terton Tshering Dorji. This stupa and the Ter statue are where you seek blessings for any projects or aspirations you might have.
If one goes on a clear day you can see all the tall mountains of Bhutan from Jumolhari to Gangkhar Puensum, and even the peak of Kanchenjunga (Gangchen Jin-Nga in Bhutanese/Sikkimese/Tibetan, which means Five Treasures Peak).
For a while now, I have become the self-appointed messiah of compassion. Many love this idea and the message of loving-kindness. Not all do, though. A few even trolled me on Facebook, telling me that if someone did something heinous to my family member, would I still be talking about compassion?
Well, the straight answer is yes!
Many would remember that my wife was assaulted in front of our house in Thimphu in 2012. Yesterday marked the twelfth anniversary – a full cycle in the Bhutanese zodiac system.
Two boys who were drunk had violently pushed her, and one punched her in the face, sending her flying backwards and hitting her head on the concrete drain. My wife was just closing the gate. She was found unconscious and rushed to the hospital, where she went into a coma until the next morning.
When that happened, I was with the royal entourage in south Bhutan – in a security-sensitive area, and it was past dinner time when my friend TG called me. In the rush to reach Thimphu, I put myself, my colleagues and the soldiers who were assigned to protect me – in grave danger. I still feel bad about this. And not a day goes by that I don’t thank our Guardian Deities that nothing more tragic happened that night.
My wife miraculously recovered to some degree after seeking several medical treatments both at home and abroad. She still carries the trauma – both physical and mental. However, the longer and deeper trauma was inflicted on my family – my daughter especially – something that we wrestle with even to this day. Nonetheless, we have also slowly learnt to live with it. I guess that’s the imperfection of life.
The assailants were caught a week after the incident. The Royal Bhutan Police did an excellent job. They were charged and tried in court and sentenced.
And here is where the compassion thing comes in.
Towards the end of the court procedures, the prosecutors called me (I was again on royal duty abroad), and the judge summoned my wife and asked her to seek damages – financial and psychological – from the defendants. Both my wife and I declined – to the surprise of the prosecutors, who then asked me to submit in writing.
In the letter to the judge, I declined to press any financial damages, which would have been huge. We had all the bills from the hospitals in Thailand. I also requested the prosecutors not to push too hard on the two young defendants in terms of the prison time.
In our submission to the court, we ended with something to this effect:
“The fact remains that my family and I will never be the same again. The incident has altered it forever – if it has not been destroyed. However, ruining the lives of two more families will not undo the tragedy that has befallen me. While for now, I am still drowned in anger and angst, something deep inside me tells me that I would regret being vindictive – in the long run. My prayers, therefore, are for my family to find peace and happiness again and for the young boys to deeply repent and rebuild their lives. I would like to believe that this was an involuntary unfortunate accident.
In the short period that we have on earth, l have been taught to be kind to others no matter where I find myself.”
Fast forward to twelve years:
Yesterday (22 November) marked the full zodiac cycle after that unfortunate accident happened. And I offered a prayer and Tshogkor to the deities and divinities at the most sacred of all places in Bhutan – Paro Taktshang. I thanked them for the struggle without which I wouldn’t be a different man today. I thanked them for the support and success, without which I wouldn’t feel lifted again. I thank them for being there all along because otherwise the tragedies would have been greater.
The Day was also one of the holiest days of the year – now celebrated as Mother’s Day. And it was nice to “come home” to her as I stood in silence in front of Khandro Yeshey Tshogyel. Earlier in the day my new-found friend, Steven Posner, led a group breath work. During the session I felt love, anger, compassion, forgiveness and finally my heart coming home back to me as he put song that said:
Don’t worry about a thing ‘Cause every little thing Gonna be all right (by Bob Marley in Three Little Birds)
Optimism pays:
Life, I have come to understand, is about perspectives. You see how you decide to look at it. The same event or a phenomenon or a person can be very different from whichever angle you choose to look at. When I look back, many sad things happened after that. But so did many good things. I met my teachers and my Root Guru – Dorje Phagmo. I fulfilled my lifelong dream to be a teacher. I completed the works on my first temple in Athang Rukha in 2014 and went on to build two more there in the Covid years. And recently I built three stupas in Athang Morakha.
I also went back to school and got a PhD and studied Communication and Cultural Studies. Along the way, I deepened my knowledge of the world’s great wisdom traditions, such as the Balinese, Native Americans and, of course, the Vajrayana Buddhism – and got to travel to these places extensively and met some of the more brilliant minds in academia and corporate America.
I hold no grudge or anger towards anyone now. Hate ruins the life of the hater more than the hated. I still don’t know the faces of those boys who shattered my world. I didn’t even care to go meet them at the detention centre back then. I believed then and still believe that our youth are just the mirror of us, the adults, and the product of the society and country we have built for them.
Back to the question, is it possible to always practise compassion?
Well, the simple answer is yes!
Epilogue
As I walk down the Tigers Nest, I listened to another Bob Marley favorite, which encapsulated what late Mother would tell herself:
My feet is my only carriage, And so I’ve got to push on through, But while I’m gone, Everything’s gonna be alright, So no, woman, no cry
(Sharing my prepared speech at the Teachers Appreciation Dinner at Paro for teachers of the well-being club. 26 October 2024.)
This year marks the 11th Year of my teaching and academic life, and let me tell you that I have never been happier. It has been a fulfilling third career. Not a day goes by that I don’t get a message from one of my former students—both Bhutanese and foreigners—who share how much impact I have had on them or how they were inspired to think beyond and better for themselves. These are the kinds of messages that you want to grow old with.
Mind you, in my career in the government, I have directed several million-dollar projects, and people have built their lives, families, and buildings after working for me. But I have yet to receive a “thank you note” from anybody about that.
(What is the wellbeing curriculum? How does that help you become Bhutanese?)
The organisers have asked me to address two questions: What is the wellbeing curriculum? And then contextualise it to what it means to be Bhutanese – a topic of discussion that I have initiated in the public domain.
Exactly 10 years ago, when I was teaching in Sherubtse, I asked a simple question: What makes a great teacher?
One conclusion that I came to was that a teacher must be well – mentally and physically, to start with. There can be no quality education – or whatsoever, if teachers are stressed, demotivated and unwell. This gave birth to the Four Pillars of Wellbeing and the Contentment Foundation through research we initiated with academics from UC Berkeley and Yale. This program now serves thousands of teachers around the globe – touching thousands of lives. The Four Pillars of Wellbeing (community, mindfulness, self-curiosity and contentment) are aimed at the wellbeing of the teachers for this reason, I have stated.
Let me contextualise them within our societal needs and trends around us. As usual, I will use stories to drive the points.
(Mindfulness and contentment)
I was 8 when my parents sent me to a boarding school – a Catholic institution run by the Don Bosco fathers and brothers near Phuntsholing. As I entered my teens, I became a movie addict – a fan of Dharmendra and Amitabh Bachchan – and so I was always slipping out of the dorm. When the school counsellor was too upset and helpless, he would call my parents to talk to me.
My parents would come but would never tell me not to do this or do that. We, Bhutanese, you know, will do exactly the opposite of what you ask – especially boys (girls are better). Instead, my parents would tell me, “Whatever you do, do with Tsham Tshey”.
Tsham Tshey means limit. It is about setting a limit to what we do – whatever we do, both good and bad. It is finding the balance in life. It stems from Buddha’s first realisation – the need to follow the middle path without veering into the extremes of self-mortification and hedonism. It ultimately aims to attain contentment and equanimity.
Every year, as I left for my boarding school, my mother used to give me another simple piece of advice: Take care of your mind, and be mindful in whatever you do, everything will fall in place if you take care of your mind.
My mother never told me anything specific to be done or to avoid at school or in my life. She knew that if I took care of my mind, I would be alright. Decades later, I am still following her advice of mindfulness.
The second story is about community building and selfless service.
Starting in 2007, I volunteered for Tarayana for two years to work in the remote community of Athang Rukha. After the project was over, I stayed on to help the community build a temple. Back then, my only motive behind the community temple was that the place would eventually bring people together. It is a social place. It is where people share their lives and help build community vitality and resilience. This aspect is important for Bhutan as it navigates between tradition and technology and between science and spiritualism.
As a teacher, I also encourage building communities among my students and mentees through moelam and memories.
The third story is about compassion and kindness.
I once took a leave for a week from my class. A teacher substitute was identified, and we went through the things this teacher would cover while I was away. We went into every detail. When I came back from my leave, I was shocked to learn that no teaching was done while I was away. When I asked, I was told by the teacher that my students didn’t know anything, and this person didn’t feel like teaching them. I was completely lost for words. This teacher, I concluded, had no compassion whatsoever.
At the most basic level, to be a teacher, you have to have empathy and compassion. Unless you have that, the young learners will not connect to you. And, like it or not, these days, no learning takes place in an atmosphere of disconnection and disregard. The students will just shut you out. It is different during our time. We even endured corporal punishment to learn from our teachers.
Whenever I meet teachers in rural areas, I am always awed – not by their knowledge but by the compassion and empathy that our teachers practise – which go unnoticed. I once came across one whose small quarter was a dorm for 15 students.
(Role of teachers in the new era)
So, to rotate back to the question: What is the role of the four pillars of well-being in education, and how do we reinforce the art of being Bhutanese?
Of late, I have been sharing one of the findings from my PhD research – what does it mean to be Bhutanese? I have been saying that to be Bhutanese is to be compassionate, altruistic and spiritual. Spiritual, not only in the sense of being religious but also having an intimate connection to the nature, people and all sentient beings of the six cosmic realms. And altruistic as being in the selfless service of them.
I believe the role of the teacher and the education system in the 21st century is not to launch ourselves into some futuristic imagination and fantasies but to help consolidate who we are as Bhutanese – through timeless values, traditions and wisdom.
I say this with conviction because the entire library that humanity has produced is on your palm now. I believe the days of teachers as the sole repository of knowledge are gone. Skills can be learnt through watching YouTube. It is free. However, contentment, compassion and community need to come from someone closer.
I believe one of the challenges we are facing as individuals and as a nation is that we have strayed away from what it means to be truly Bhutanese or simply to be human.
There is so much talk about technology, such as AI replacing some 300 jobs, including teaching, according to some experts. However, I feel no machine can teach empathy, kindness, and mindfulness. No AI tool will look at you like my mother and tell you, “Whatever you do, take care of your sem (mind)”.
While the teaching profession is safe from AI, our role as teachers is beyond delivering curriculum or the bulky syllabus. It is more about inspiring people to learn, motivating them that education is still important, and bringing humanity back to the centre stage of our lives. It is about teaching children to be compassionate and caring and practise loving-kindness.
Above all, it is about building communities, collaborations and country.
Puna Dewachen pi Phodrang (Palace of Eternal Bliss) was built by Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyel – the founder of modern Bhutan – in 1637. It served as the capital of Bhutan till 1955.
Dewachen refers the western Pure Land of Buddha Amitabha known as Sukhavati in Sanskrit. Sukhavati means “eternal bliss”.
It is said that Drubthob Nagi Rinchen (1384-1468) arrived at this spot and saw it in his vision as the paradise of Buddha Amitabha, which was later envisioned by Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyel too. Hence, this name was given to this place – Palace over Sukhavati.
The grand citadel served as the capital of Bhutan for many centuries until the mid-twentieth century. It is still the spiritual capital of Bhutan, where all major state ceremonies and rituals are conducted.
Popular legend also talks about it being built on the trunk of a sleeping elephant – a view that you can see from the opposite hill of Logodama.
There are two dzongs here. The smaller one on the left is the older one, which was built by Ngagi Rinchen. This one has an amazing wish-fulfilling Buddha statue. __________________ Punakha Dzong by night.😍😍😍 Never experienced this pretty monument at night. It is prettier.
One word that comes to my mind as I follow our King’s visit to Australia is connection. Connection to our past, connection to our King, and connection to one’s own self. In a world that is getting so disconnected, this is a huge relief.
Our Bhutanese people’s connection to our King is sacred. It is the essence of the Bhutanese nation. Nothing should come between our King and us. Seeing this sacred bond on display, even thousands of kilometres away, is heartwarming. From the tiny pieces of information that are trickling on social media, it even feels emotional.
The connection to our past is symbolised by the presence of Dorje Lopen Rimpoche* – a person I interacted with very closely and developed an immense respect for during the State Visit to Japan in 2011. He used to stay in his hotel room most of the time to complete his daily prayers and practices – instead of exploring the city of Tokyo. This time to Australia, he travelled with some sacred relics to bless our people living far away.
Spirituality and monarchy are the souls of Bhutan. They are the glue that binds the Bhutanese people and the nation together and the essence of being Bhutanese in many ways – and for many Bhutanese as individuals.
To stay connected to these ideas and institutions is to reconnect to one’s inner self – and to discover that deep inside, one has never left one’s home called Bhutan.
As we join our compatriots in their reunion with our King, what is one word that comes to your mind? Drop it in the comments. I also hope that those who are Down Under will pen some reflections on this historic event.
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*His Eminence Dorje Lopen is the second highest ranking master in Bhutan – a true monk-scholar (Photo: HM King Official Page)
Dorji Wangchuk 