A personal account – a small homage, on the Birth Anniversary of His Majesty the Fourth King.

When I was a todler, probably 3 or 4 years and growing up in Tongling, Radhi, I remember my grandfather taking me to Tashigang for the first time. In the big “town”, we went into a shop where the first thing my grandpa did was to point to a picture on the wall. “That’s our King” he said. It was the Third King back then. I looked at the picture mesmerised to the core. “What do the kings do?” I remember asking – innocently. “Well, He is the King. He rules over the kingdom. He takes care of all the semchen thamchen (great sentient beings/minds)”, my grandpa, a hereditary lama, replied.

Wow! I thought. How cool! “Can anyone become a King?” I asked him again. My grandpa burst out laughing but he saw me bit dazzled – and confused. He loved me more this life. So he composed himself and went, “You see, our Kings are not like us. They come from the lhayul (realms of Gods) because I told you that he has to rule over, not just the people but also, all sentient beings in his kingdom. So when there is a need for a King in miyul (human world), the gods will have a zomdu (meeting) and then decide to send one of them in guise of a human being. That’s why we say our King is a truelpa (god in disguise)”.

That story remained stuck with me ever since.

Our Kings are not like us (ordinary people). They are sent from lhayul (realms of Gods)

Few years later in 1974, my father took me to Thimphu to witness the Coronation of the Fourth King, His Majesty Jigme Singye Wangchuk. And there I saw our King for the first time. But what was overwhelming was the number of people in Changlimithang stadium. The huge crowd simply frightened me. It was tough job to be a King of so many people, not even counting the semchen, I thought. The King had to be a truelpa. My grandpa was right.

Fast forward to 2003. Some thirty years later, I was leading the Bhutan Broadcasting Service team covering the consecration of Punakha Dzong. Tens of thousands of people had gathered there. The final part of the ceremony included all those present to file and move around the Dzong. The filming continued. But I wasn’t too happy with the camera angles and shots that we were getting. Then  a brilliant idea stuck me. I called out to my crew. “Can anyone climb on the roof and get a top view of the procession? We are not getting the whole picture here.” Everyone said it was a great idea but no one dared to climb on the roof. Not even the cameramen who were half my age. Punakha Dzong is at least a couple of hundreds of feet high. “You guys are chicken! Give me the camera!” I shouted. And I zoomed off, getting a monk on the way to show me the passage to the roof. From there I got the most beautiful and a complete view of the procession. Thousands and thousands of people were solemnly walking behind His Holiness the Je Khenpo, tossing colored rice in the air. Sounds of horns, cymbals filled the whole valley. Little behind His Holiness was His Majesty and the members of the royal family.

I had my camera pointed in that direction and was rolling when suddenly His Majesty suddenly looked up towards me. From among the thousands of people, no one noticed me up there – only the King. As I lowered my head and my camera and stepped backwards, I saw His Majesty calling for an officer and sending him off towards me. “Ah! I am caught.” I thought. “Now I am dead.” I climbed down from the roof and headed back to the controls. Few minutes later the officer came running to me. We knew each other. “Dorji!” he shouted, trying to catch his breath, “HM wants you to be careful.” “OK, OK, Aue (brother), Sorry. I just wanted one shot of the procession from the roof.” I replied justifying my stunt. “No! No! You don’t have to say sorry. Zhab is concerned about your safety. He said on big occasions, big tragedies happen.” Suddenly, my hair rose from behind my neck. My stomach folded. My face turned pale. I nearly threw up. I took me few minutes to get back to work.

“Wow! I thought.”Truly a truelpa – a god in disguise, to catch me up there and then to be concerned of MY safety – among thousands of semchen thamchen who are gathered here.”

For days and months after that incident, I went around – brimming with a big smile.

N.B.
A note for more discerning readers. As a junior scholar, I must clarify one issue about God in Buddhism. Excuse my academic bent. You can blame it on my professors who hammered me with, "You have to explain everything". 

Anyway, the point is: strictly speaking, there is no such thing as “God” in Buddhism – not at least, as it is understood in the Christian world of an Almighty Creator. However, it is also not true to claim that Buddhism is an atheistic religion. Buddhism believe in samsaric existence of birth and rebirth in the six realms of Buddhist cosmology: gods, demi-gods, humans, animals, hungry ghosts and hells. Now I don’t want to go beyond this as it is neither my area of expertise nor the intent of the above article. I am just clarifying that in our belief we have these six realms - one of which is the realm of gods.

Today marks the Sixth Anniversary of the Royal Wedding of His Majesty the King 🙏🙏🙏

On this day, six years back, as the whole country celebrated the joyous and historic occasion of our time, and when half the country plus foreign dignitaries and over 400 foreign press had gathered in Punakha for the Day, I was busy playing the bad cop. I was the Director of the Royal Office for Media back then. I was shouting at unauthorised people from taking pictures, cautioning foreign photographers from getting too close to the Royal Couple, responding to questions from the press on the significance of each of the lengthy ceremonies and also making sure that some of the regional pressmen who had entered the country were sticking to their script. While my job was often underrated by my peers, for me it was extremely important and tough. I felt I had to balance between the sanctity of the occasion with the new openness of democratic Bhutan (people want to take selfies and have autographs of the King and Queen – something unseen just few years before) and the desire to have extensive media coverage of the global press (that would add to our sovereignty) while keeping the event “simple” – as per the wishes of His Majesty the King.

By the end of the day I was obviously on the verge of collapsing – tired till my last muscle. I was also starving (I didn’t get anything to eat the whole day) and totally dehydrated. Still after the ceremony I managed to drag myself back to the main prayer hall of Punakha Dzong where I offered my gratitude to the gods and deities for the successful proceeding of the day’s event. As I prayed, I also burst into tears and cried silently – perhaps feeling relieved from the stress and tension that I was carrying inside for over six months since the Royal Wedding was announced. My job, as I said, was already tough. Many other unnecessary circumstances made them worse – and sometimes impossible. So I was glad that it was over – without any major failure. After wiping my tears I sat down reclining myself on one of the pillars of the Kuenra (Great Hall of Prayers) for a what I thought was a few minute power nap. But I dozed off for over an hour to be only woken up by a monk who had to close the temple.

Although 2011 was the toughest year for me (that year also saw three State visits – to Bangladesh, India and Japan where I had to play my parts to pitch the stories to the cynical pressmen in three very different countries), I look back at this Day with the greatest sense of fulfilment as a professional. Bhutan had the biggest presence of foreign media in its history and received not only the most extensive coverage but also positive. For decades since the early 1990s some of the foreign media outlets have not been too kind to us. In their eyes Bhutan was either a Shangrila or a human-rights abuser. We were, and we are, neither. I gambled to invite some of these same media for the event although officials from the foreign ministry cautioned me. We managed to give our perspective and tell our version of the story.

I also look back with great fondness and, needless to say, deep respects for both Their Majesties for not only bestowing me the lifetime opportunity and privilege of serving them but also for forgiving many errors and mistakes I made in the course of my duty at the Palace. I wasn’t perfect.

Today wherever I travel people (especially foreigners) often compliment them as the most beautiful royal couple in the world. I always contend that Their Majesties are more than that. They have the most beautiful hearts too.

Happy anniversary, Your Majesties. 🙏🙏🙏

May Your Beautiful Hearts inspire and guide not just our beloved country but our region and the world as it goes through the most uncertain times in modern history.

Dechenphu is located at the north-end of Thimphu Valley. The place is important for two related reasons. First, the name, Thimphu – Bhutan’s capital city, is derived from a rock in front of the temple where according to the legend, the Protector-Deity, Gyenyen Jagpa Milen, is believed to have entered or sunk (Thim in local language) into the Phu (hill). The rock that can be seen today has a shape of hill. The second reason of importance is that the temple is considered as the principal abode of the Protector-Deity.

Aap Gyenyen, as he is fondly called (Aap means father, elderly man in Dzongkha), is considered a very powerful deity whose protection one seeks and is believed to be bestowed almost instantly. Hence, the place is very popular among people venturing on long journeys, among students appearing for exams, among businessman making decisions,  with politicians contesting in elections, etc.

My story with Aap Gyenyen goes back to 1996. I was freshly back to the country after a long sojourn in Italy. I was young, brash, western-educated and so, a bit of a non-believer since I was trained in scientific fields. However, on the insistence of my father, I went to seek the protection of Aap Genyen for a trip to Singapore – my first trip abroad in my new job.

After completing my rituals of prostrating three times and receiving the holy water, which I seeped some and wiped the rest on my head, I sought the divination by throwing the dice. The first one went bad. I had an unlucky number. I was asked to give a second try. I did. Bad number again. The caretaker-monk said I could try three times. I was getting bit nervous by then and asked how I could get a good one. “You can promise something in return, like, you can offer a butter lamp or conduct a ceremony,” he replied. I made a deal with Aap Genyen and threw the dice for the third time. This time I hit the perfect 11. “What does this divination mean?” I asked the monk. “Well,” he replied, “You have his protection. You will be alright. But you have to be very careful in whatever you are setting out to do.”

I travelled to Singapore where the hosts picked me from the airport and accommodated me into a five-star hotel. However, on the very first day of my week-long stay, I was hit by a food poisoning. I was vomiting, I had diarrhoea, giddiness; I felt my stomach was hit by a car and anything I ate was turning to water and draining out without even stopping for a minute in there. Fever was rising and I even fainted once in the toilet. I thought I was going to die. I missed the first two days of the seminar and was sick for the rest of the week.

Finally, on returning home I visited Dechenphu again and told the monk what happened. “I told you to be careful,” he brushed aside with a smile – of having successfully foretold my fate.

Now 21 years on, I always make sure to visit this place before I venture out on anything important that I do in my life. Over the years my relationship with Aap Gyenyen has become as human as it can be. I rarely throw the dice. Rather in my prayers, I tell him to look out for me (“That’s you job, my friend,” I whisper) and that if there was anything I could do, or he needs, he just has to tell me. 21 years on he has been more than willing to keep me and my family safe.

I encourage my children to follow me. And they religiously visit Dechenphu on the onset of every important decision in their life. I named my second daughter, Dechen, after the temple and have placed her under his protection.

I have been flown half way round the World for a conference in a resort town of Sinaia in Romania – where I have been asked to share my views on the future of radio in the age and world of social media. The session I was placed was titled: Social Media – Destructive or Constructive? Here is what I shared there.

Firstly, to provide some background, the traditional mass media, such as radio, television and newspapers have seen dwindling revenues and audience with the rise of the social media such as Twitter, Facebook and YouTube. The situation has worsened to the that even big names in the newspaper and broadcasting are either closing or struggling financially. Not a day passes without a conference being held somewhere around the globe – where the future of the mass media is being discussed. At no point in the history of modern media that such an existential crisis has hit the sector.

Back to the future?
I don’t know about the newspapers but as far as radio and television are concerned they will survive. Among the two, interestingly, radio is the stronger medium and the most resilient among all forms of media that mankind has invented. While television is powerful, glamourous, captivating and bring the world in front of our eyes, in terms of resilience, I would put my bet on the radio. There is one consumption pattern of radio that no other forms can compete with – passive listening. In other words, radio can be played in the background while one drives or works. It does not take, or need, our full attention nor is it so intrusive like the new forms of media.

The imminent death of radio is a familiar narrative that has been heard before.

It was foretold many times in the past. When television was invented in the forties, the catchphrase was that the ‘video killed the radio star’, which also became a pop song. But radio survived. When Walkman was developed in the seventies there was another round of dooms-day prediction for radio. It survived again. The third time was a quite recent – when IPod came into being. In sociology parlance, radio has been the Bobo doll among the media technologies. Every time it was punched, it fell but bounced back – smiling and fully reinvigorated. Radio will be there and will, before we realise, reinvent itself again.

Passive consumption

There is one strength of radio that no other news medium can boast of: passive consumption. In other words, while TV and other social media require your eyes and your ears, radio just requires your auditory senses. So, one can go about with one’s work and listen to the radio. You could also blast it as you drive. This makes radio a very popular medium and perhaps the strength that has saved it from the foretold death in the past. There is no doubt that with the onslaught of the social media, radio will survive because of this strength.

No over-reacting

How the radio should respond and how it is responding have been extensively covered in the works of several practitioners and professionals in the field. What I would like to suggest is what radio should avoid – over-reacting. Every time the radio is given for dead, the radio responds. Understandably. However, one of the most bizarre ways goes to some years back when the radio felt it should become ‘trendy’. So besides the RDS data services there was a great deal of talks on what they called visual radio, where pictures could be added to ‘enhance’ the services. Many seminars and conferences later, someone asked a simple question: isn’t radio with pictures known as television?

One tag line at the conference in Romania was that “the only certainty was uncertainty”. Agreed. And as in life, the best way for the radio to face the uncertain future is to be itself – and not to lose its essence as a powerful aural medium.

(In my next article, I will elaborate the strengths of the TV and radio, which the social media has yet to prove: accuracy, depth and credibility.)

The floors of the holy chambers of Tashichho Dzong were shiny and slippery and so I took an extra care not to put up a faux pas in front of His Holiness the 70th Je Khenpo (the supreme abbot of Bhutan). The year was 1997. I had just turned thirty, built a house and was still with my Italian mindset and manners. Meaning, I still possessed some deficits on the traditional driglam namzha – the Code for Official and Social Etiquettes of Bhutan. I was aware of my shortcoming and that made me even more nervous in the presence of such an illustrious figure. I prostrated three times, stretched out my offering of a simple white silk scarf (aka khadha in Bhutanese) to the chief attendant, prostrated three times again, after which I was signalled by the attendant to sit down. I lowered myself – paying attention not to get entangled with my kabney (ceremonial scarf), which happens all the time, crossed my legs and sat down. All the while, His Holiness was smiling broadly and pitifully at me – perhaps amused by my long hair, very un–driglam namzha ways or an overly self-conscious face.

“So, what brings you here?” he asked me in his signature deep and gentle voice that I had heard before in large public prayer gatherings. I felt relieved, composed myself and submitted my request, “I would like you to come and bless my newly-built house”. He nodded and went, “ummm….. Now, how do we go about with this?” The chief attendant was taken aback by my unusual and inadmissible request.

I had not known His Holiness personally before that and, having spent a good part of my twenties in Italy as a student, my knowledge of State protocols was next to nil. I had only seen him once in person, the year before, and received his blessing when he administered the oath of allegiance for senior civil servants. I was one among few hundreds that day. On that occasion, I felt something very unusual in his presence – a feeling of remorse, pride, sadness, joy and bliss – all at the same time. I was explained much later by another Buddhist master that ‘sinners’ like me are remorseful in the presence of great Beings – in that my soul was seeking penitence. I bought his explanation. So, when I had finished building my house I was determined to get him to bless it. I wasn’t sure if he would accept but I thought it was worth a try.

As we sat in silence, another attendant waded in to the room carrying a tray. “Have some tea first,” His Holiness uttered to me and then he called his chief attendant and whispered something in his ears. I grabbed the tea cup by the handle and slowly raised it and took a sip – making sure that the cup didn’t slide away from the saucer. “What do you do? He asked me next. I explained that I was an engineer in the BBS. He smiled. He went on to ask few more questions on my family, where I was born and my education. Meanwhile, the chief attendant came in with a scarf and something small wrapped in a dresho paper.

“You see,” His Holiness went, looking down at the items – and blessing them, “I would have agreed to your request but our internal protocol bars me from doing that. I can only grace State ceremonies or consecrations.”

I accepted his rejection – not with a disappointment but feeling rather foolish at even advancing such a request. I was either naive or idealistic – or both, to expect the highest lama of the land to come and consecrate a private house. “Nevertheless,” he continued, “tomorrow at 3 pm, I suppose you will be doing a day-long ceremony, please tell the lama to toss these rice and the khadha in the air. Exactly at 3pm, OK?” “Las, la” I replied. I got up and received his gifts and at the same time the chief attendant signalled me to leave. I paid my due respects, received his hand-blessing and waded away towards the door. When I got home I gave the khada and the rice to the lama who was preparing for the next day – and conveyed the instructions.

The following day was one of the most hectic days in my life. I was trying to keep tab of every aspect of the ceremony – between feeding the monks and guests – to supplying the kitchen and the altar – to showing the way to toilets. Many friends and family members had come to the consecration. With all the mess going around me I was called outside for a photo session to mark the day. The photographer, a visiting Japanese-American friend from New York, clicked few shots before he pointed to the sky behind us. It was afternoon and the Sun had a beautiful rainbow around it – the colors were so intense, something I had never seen before. Everyone was wowed. It wasn’t even raining. We didn’t have smartphones back then to capture the scene. But all the guests witnessed the auspicious phenomenon including my American friend. I then suddenly remembered the instruction from His Holiness. I looked at my watch. It was 3 pm.

Ever since that experience, I have a total reverence for His Holiness – our Je Khenpo. He restored in me the wonderful world of magic and miracles that I had almost forgotten as I took up engineering, quantum mechanics and technology back at Bologna University. Now, whenever or wherever I come across him – or even see him pass by in his car, I always prostate into submission. I feel blessed and blissful. For a moment, he takes me to another realm. To me, he is a living Buddha. The real Rimpoche (the Precious One). The Purest of the Pure.

On the occasion of his 63^rd Birthday anniversary, today, I can only pray that he live a very long life and continue to provide the spiritual strength to our magical Kingdom.

Thirty years back, in 1986, I started working for the Radio NYAB (the predecessor to the Bhutan Broadcasting Service) as a young junior engineer. One of my responsibilities was to operate the sound system at the Royal Banquet Hall where almost every important government meetings, workshops and seminars were held. One such meeting was called by the erstwhile National Urban Development Corporation on the Royal Command of His Majesty the King to discuss the city plan for, and the growing traffic in, Thimphu City. All our leaders of today were there as young directors, under-secretaries and deputy ministers. NUDC was chaired by the late Foreign Minister, Lyonpo Dawa Tsering. Dasho Lhatu Wangchuk was the Secretary. The meeting was steered by late Dasho Lam Penjore, the Deputy Minister of Planning Commission – assisted by a very soft-spoken Director of Planning, Ugyen Tshering (who retired as foreign minister, Lyonpo Ugyen Tshering).

During the meeting, briefly graced by His Majesty the King, the issue of the growing traffic came up. One attendee (I think it was lyonpo Om Pradhan who was the Deputy Minister for Trade then) pointed out that the main issue to be tackled was the Chubachu junction that posed a bottleneck as majority of traffic users moved to Tashichho Dzong in the morning and then away from it in the evening. Many more ideas and feedbacks were floated in that meeting, which were all excellent. I don’t remember exactly what His Majesty commanded but I remember along the lines of not making the mistakes of other countries, to maintain adequate offset between the houses, etc.

Thirty-one years on, and my last visit home, few weeks back, I was stuck in my car for over thirty minutes to go from my house in Kawajangsa to the centre of the city. It would have taken 15 if I had walked. The Chubachu junction, which was causing the bottleneck, was still there taking around twenty minutes to clear me and my old car. As I moved inch by inch, literally, I couldn’t help but think about that meeting – and about how we Bhutanese never learn from, or listen to, our King.

Countries and nations fail because of bad or no leadership. That’s unfortunate. We are failing despite having a great one. The traffic problem, which has now become a chronic issue, is just one of the many thing we could have avoided if we had just listened to our King. Just until 20 years back Thimphu was a blank slate on which we could have drawn a beautiful artwork. We had 30 years to address this issue.

Maybe it is late. Or maybe, it isn’t.

On the occasion of the just-concluded visit of Her Imperial Highness Princess Mako of Japan to Bhutan, I repost a photo story of the State Visit of His Majesty the King of Bhutan to Japan in 2011 that took the relations between the two countries to a different height.

The State Visit of His Majesty the King to Japan was more than just a visit.  It was a journey. A journey of life, hope and friendship. Something unexplainable which can perhaps be expressed only through images. Pictures they say tell thousand words. So while I try to put together my thoughts and reflections, here is a photo reportage.

The Imperial Family sent a car from their fleet for the Royal Couple. Among all arrangements, the security detail was impressive (but what is not impressive about Japanese way of doing things). They were there to protect the VVIP at any cost.

Japanese Emperor Akihito was not well. So His Imperial Highness Crown Prince Naruhito stood in for the Emperor. Crown Prince Naruhito had visited Bhutan in 1987 and said he “has fond memories.”  (photo source – Reuters)

Japanese Prime Minister Noda called on His Majesty the King on the day the King arrived in Tokyo.  The PM had also just flown in from the APEC Summit in Honolulu

The photo that moved a nation.  At the Guard of Honour in the Imperial Palace, His Majesty pays homage to Bhutan – Japan friendship by bowing down to the two flags.  This scene made every Bhutanese proud and brought every Japanese to tears.   (photo courtesy – Reuters)

His Majesty the King greeting the children at the Welcoming Ceremony (Imperial Palace)

In an unprecedented move, perhaps defying the standard protocol, the Empress called on His Majesty at the place where the King was staying.

The State Banquet in honour of His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen. In his banquet address His Majesty paid homage to the emperor and to the people of Japan for the special bond.  I sat next to Honorary Consul to Bhutan, Hitomi Tokuda and the beautiful wife of trade minister Yukio Edano. Edano is famous for his role as the cabinet secretary in the post March 11 disaster.  I also shared a wonderful joke with finance minister Jun Azumi. I also heard the most beautiful Bhutan’s national anthem played here by the Imperial household orchestra.

Fans and wellwishers wait for the King and Queen outside the Kieo University Hall.  Everywhere we went ordinary people and photographers became a part of the scene.

His Majesty receiving Honorary Doctorate in Economics from Kieo University. “Our generation is called upon to rethink, to redefine the true purpose of growth. And in doing so, to find a growth that is truly sustainable.” The King said in his acceptance speech

His Majesty addressing the joint session of parliament in Tokyo. His Majesty expressed his solidarity with the people affected by the earthquake and also supported Japan’s aspiration as permanent member in the UN Security Council. “Bhutan not only believes in the need to expand the United Nations Security Council, we are convinced that Japan must play a leading role in it. You have our full commitment and support.”  The Speech was televised live by NHK and webstreamed by the Diet secretariat.

At Meiji Shrine. People as far as Kagoshima in South Japan were following the State Visit through newspapers, live TV reports and updates.

Butlers, chefs, cleaners and staff of Akasaka Palace, where the King was staying in Tokyo, line up to bid goodbye to the King and Queen

In Sakuragako School in Fukushima those who weren’t invited wrapped the building making the Japanese security details quite nervous.

Inhabitants of Fukushima cheer the Royal Couple with Bhutan flag in response to King’s much-appreciated gesture to visit the region. Someone wrote to me “HM’s visit to Japan was like as if the real dragon showed up out of the blue clearing out the gloom and brought happy smiles to the Japanese people with the sun light after the storm

The Japanese security looked very nervous when His Majesty did what he love doing – dive into a crowd (photo courtesy – Yukio Tanaka)

There were excitements, smiles, gratitude and curiosities all around. Some said they could finally smile after a long time

Children and adults alike – all were either curious or touched by the royal presence in their locality.

People came out of their houses and work places and waived Bhutan flags all along the 100 km or so ride from Fukushima station to Soma Port.

“Remember there is a dragon in each one of us,” His Majesty told the children in Sakuragako School who also put up few cultural performances.

Hard evidence of a tragedy. A fishing boat still stands on top of a 20 meter wall.  In some places here the tsunami reached 40 meters.

Soma City – Fukushima. His Majesty joins in for the prayer ceremony led by venerable Dorji Lopen – Bhutan’s second highest monk. “No nation or people should ever have to experience such suffering. And yet if there is one nation who can rise stronger and greater from such adversity – it is Japan and her People. Of this I am confident.” The King had told in his address to the Japanese parliament.

HM King and Queen thanking the people of Fukushima for love and affection and the unexpected warm reception. (photo courtesy – Hiroko Kobori)

Many people came out with banners that read “kadrinche”, “tashi telek”, and “Joen pa legso” .  Some had even decorated their homes and gates. It was simply moving to see how much this visit meant to them

His Majesty and Her Majesty surprised the hosts in Kyoto by turning up at the Governor’s banquet in hakama and kimono. One female journalist confided to me that she nearly fainted

Men in Black. We wore our national dress throughout the Visit except on the day we left Japan.  It is almost rare that we have any pictures of ourselves from these tours. But we made exception for Japan.

Some of the Japanese media covered the State Visit until the very end. We bid them farewell recognising deep in our hearts that they had done a great service to the relation between our two countries. Japan Times dedicated an editorial.

The entire Japanese foreign ministry team joined the Kyoto Governor and stayed on and waived as His Majesty and Her Majesty waived back from the aircraft. There is no goodbye word in Dzongkha, our national language.  Only “see you again” and this really goes for this wonderful land and wonderful people.