Tag: life

Compassion Maketh Bhutanese

On By DorjiWangchukIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Compassion and selfless service are a trademark of every Bhutanese – and if we can maintain these qualities regardless of where you are, and if we can implant these values in our young ones, rest is just cultural paraphernalia and performances, which will evolve over time anyway. A compassionate heart is what we must develop as a foundation in our children, and is what we must practice as higher sentient beings.

I draw happiness from simple acts of selfless service – whether it is to make someone happy (loving kindness) or to help alleviate a suffering (compassion). And true selfless service starts when you stop asking, what is in it for me? For example, there is nothing for me – directly or indirectly – neither in trying to raise funds for a Bhutanese who is hospitalised in Perth, or to make Zhiwaling Heritage Hotel win an online award – and not even in trying to bring investors and investments into the Gelephu Mindfulness City.

There is also nothing for anyone who is responding to my requests. But, doing something together creates memories. Memories keep people together. It enhances solidarity. It makes relationships grow stronger. Ultimately, collective memories of all Bhutanese is what makes a Bhutanese nation – if Benedict Anderson’s assertions on imagined communities and nationalism are true.

Nonetheless, again, to say there is nothing in exchange for the selfless service we practice is also not totally true. I have been around for long enough to see and even experience that the universe always finds ways to pay you back – sometimes more than what you have given to others.

This belief comes from the Buddhist concept of the circle of karma. My favourite story on this goes something like: One Sharchokpa shopkeeper saw that his sales were never picking up while his neighbour’s shop was doing a roaring business. Someone suggested him to go see the Late, and the short-tempered, Holiness Jadrel Sangye Dorje Rimpoche (🙏).

“Do you give?” Rimpoche asked the man.

“No, la”, the man replied.

“How you expect to get, if you don’t give anything?” Rimpoche shouted back, and chased him away.

This phenomenon of getting-by-giving does not seem to exist only in the spiritual realm. There was also a scientific study being done in the US by a researcher on this topic of giving and getting. This research concluded that if you give $1 you ultimately get back, miraculously, $1.65. In other words, if you give away a million dollars, you get back 1.65 million some through some twists and turns. Companies that donate see their income go up by 1.65 times. People who give generously have seen their wealth grow instead of becoming poorer.

So, keep giving to keep living.

😈😈😈

(For those who are interested in becoming a giver and also “succeed” in life and business – if you don’t believe in spiritual masters or spiritual masters only, there is this book, Give and Take, by Adam Grant, which highlights lots of stories and studies.

  • Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities (1992)

Don’t Forget Love

On By DorjiWangchukIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

(Tragedy for Children Left Behind – Part II)

My earlier post on children left behind has stirred some conscience. I am glad. That was my intention – to make people think and reflect. Some, of course, just got offended and shrugged it off as nonsense. It has also put others in defensive mode. These were all expected. This is a very sensitive and personal matter. I understand.

I close this topic with a very personal story.

In the early 1970s when we (my four siblings and I) were growing up in Phuntsholing our parents really struggled to feed us and clothe us. My father was just a bus driver – a single-earner parent, who also had to look after his own siblings (my young uncles and aunt) since my father was the eldest. My grandfather had passed away when my father was just 10.

We lived on a bare minimum and I remember I often went to Hindu pujas and ceremonies that were conducted at the nearby Hanuman temple in Jaigaon. They gave me free food, with tea and dessert too. (This is the reason I love Indian people). Other times I ran errands for our neighbours and they would either give me some small change or feed me in their homes. Everyone knew I was always hungry. Other times I collected empty beer bottles from private homes and sold them in Jaigaon.

Around that time we also had a well-off granduncle in Kalimpong called memay Sangchung. He often visited us in Phuentsholing and took a liking for me. Memay Sangchung ran occasional tasks for the Bhutan House and our royal family and made his fortune by hosting Tibetan traders in his house. I was told he hand-stitched the ghos for the Third King, which was very highly appreciated. He was my late grandfather’s younger cousin – a close relative by Sharchop standards because he shared the same bloodline and came from the same house in Tashigang.

Memay Sangchung felt very sorry for my father and offered to help. He often took me and my sister to Kalimpong on school breaks and gave us everything we asked for – food, clothes, pocket money, etc. He also offered to adopt us and educate us in the best boarding schools in Kalimpong or Darjeeling. Memay even tried to entice me by showing hundreds of zee beads, ivories, cobra horns and gold statues, and told me I could have them all if I became his foster son.

My father was quite open to it afterall memay was his real uncle. But my late mother was totally against giving us away. “Even if I can only afford a yomri (thin flour broth – a food of the poorest), we will eat together, and I will raise my children like that”. She was absolutely clear about what she was doing and what she could provide for us. “Waktsa rey soenam rey” (every child comes with a fortune) was her favourite line. I later went to Don Bosco Technical School (Kharbandi) in the same town. 

What my mother lacked in terms of materials and properties, she made up with her big heart, optimism and a great sense of humour. Despite the hardship, our house in Phuntsholing was also the favourite transit hostel for every person from eastern Bhutan. But my mother never once complained or turned away anyone who sought shelter in our home.

She poured her unconditional and boundless love on all of us – without distinction and without once feeling hopeless. Maybe this is the reason why my siblings and I grew up as fairly grounded people. We simply grew up in love, laughter and optimism – but penniless and most of the time slipperless.

So to all of you, especially the young Bhutanese mothers, whatever you can afford for your children is okay. However, I wish you the togetherness, sitting in circles, and eating and enjoying that simple thing you can afford – maybe it is just a yomri – but with limitless love and laughter. Now or later. Whenever.

Yes, money is important. That’s the sad reality of the modern world. But don’t forget love. And for that, you don’t have to seek it anywhere else. You don’t have to leave the country we all love – or the community that loves you.

It is there inside you – in all of us. And maybe that’s the best gift you can give. Rest, I believe, your children will figure it out – like we did. Because, we all come with a fortune clipped on our head.

(Picture: My father, my younger sister and I with my Dev Anand-inspired hairstyle. 😁😁😁 1976, Phuntsholing, Gupta Studio. The shirt and the tie were part of the Studio wardrobe.)