Ngai Gencha Bay Nang May

Ngai Gencha Bay Nang May

Jagar pemi thang gi maja lay mi lay,

Choe maja dongdro bja mi bja,

Choesham thrami gu lu,

Bumpai ngai gencha bay nang may.

Lakha sharwai meto zey mi zey,

Meto pema thongsay ga mi ga.

Pangshong demi na lu,

Dumra ngai gencha bay nang may.

Selwai gangchu babsey sha ra ra,

Lamai drupchu jinlab chey mi chey,

Chumo ser gi nyamo,

Gyamtsho ngai gencha bay nang may

Khandrom choegi zheri lay mi lay,

Ya nam lu phusay bja mi bja,

Samug, lung dang karmai bulu,

Namkhar ngai thridung bay nang may.

Translation:

The peacock from the southern plains is beautiful,

You are the feather that adorns that bird.

On my altar of offering,

Let me be the vase that holds you close

The flower that blooms on the mountain is pretty,

The rhododendron brings a smile on my face,

In the untouched valleys,

My gardens await you to bloom with them

The crystal river follows a steady path downwards,

The water has been blessed by the divine,

Brilliant gold fish that lives in the water,

The ocean calls for you to be its jewel.

A fairy with beauty beyond comparison,

You are a sight to behold when you travel the sky,

Clouds, air and the stars,

In between these, I, the sky, want you to be my sun.

...for those who find it hard to express themselves

The Rich Corridors of YHSS

“What a waste of a class” mentioned my desk mate. I couldn’t have agreed more. But we now had a 10 minute recess. Do what you want to do, take a toilet break, grab a cup of tea at the cafeteria, catch up on assignments and homework; the 10 minute break was a god send.

“What are we doing during the short break?” enquired Tashi. “I have no idea” I told him. “We have history class after the break so I guess we should get going before we are late again”. He picked up his history textbook with a sigh and followed me in to the crowded corridors. The break was about to end and everyone was rushing back to their classes.

At the entrance of the academic block, some of the boys from my history class had started teasing the girls passing by. Eager to join them, I rushed as fast as possible with Tashi in hot pursuit. He wouldn’t miss it either.

Chimi was one of the weirdest boys in the class. He kept admiring his own body which I thought looked like a pencil wrapped in cellophane. Plus I was told by Tashi, who stood behind him during morning prayers, that Chimi’s well gelled hair had a stray flea setting up camp. Not the prettiest of pictures but that was how Chimi functioned.

Today he was leading the teasing. “I have a building” he said loudly to the girls passing by hoping to impress them with his imaginary wealth. I told myself that I can top Chimi so I started boasting to the girls. “I have 3 acres of apple orchard, 5 jersey cows, 2 power tillers, one bungalow, 2 solar powered lamps, 11 goats and I have good looks” I proclaimed. The girls passing by looked at me and giggled.

Chimi was flustered at someone stealing his thunder. He upped his game a little. “I have a Corona car, 10 yaks, 4 horses, 3 pigs, 17 hens and a hefty bank balance” he proclaimed.

I must admit that the 3 pigs was quite difficult to tackle and I had to find new possessions to impress with.

The argument kept going back and forth between me and Chimi while the girls passing by looked at us and smiled. Seeing the positive response, the other boys started getting in on the act. Soon all the millionaires and billionaires of YHSS had assembled in that corridor and started proclaming their supposed wealth.

Before the corridor got any more congested with us boys blocking the way, the bell rang and we had to get to our classes. I looked at Tashi and he was smiling. I smiled back. He knew we had discovered a good way to keep ourselves entertained.

Before we knew it, after every class or break, my class boys would be found in the corridors impressing the girls with their wide range of wealth. YHSS’ collective wealth grew by leaps and bounds during our stay. We were the richest school in Bhutan.

Kerela Diaries

“Beware of your luggage” said the Saroma Tour and Travels’ representative. I thought you had nothing to fear of your luggage had you packed it yourself. I know that he was telling me to be careful with my luggage but then the english that he spoke was too funny to be passed.

Rickety old bus with a conductor who rang a bell once to signal the driver to stop and twice to move did not bolster my enthusiasm any further for the auduous journey ahead. It was a garish bus with a yellow-red color combination and that it was one of those old buses that you see in bollywood movies. But the best thing that the bus had to offer was it’s resilience to bullets. This bus was bulletproof because there were no windows but tin sheets to save yourself from sun, wind and rain. Our bus driver was a man in his own league the way he was playing the curves and maneuvering the vehicles ahead of him. Although a tree that fell on the road did stop our driver for 10 minutes but later on he shook everyone up by hitting a scooter. The unsuspecting scooter driver might not have any idea as to what happened, but we knew what we were going to miss if we fell asleep. An action movie with car chases and hit and run scene was being played right in front of us and we would not have missed it for anything.

Scholarships: A Trap?

It is scholarship season and students who have done well in their high school exams would be understandably excited and nervous as well. It should be a moment of celebration for those who have worked hard and scored marks worthy of a scholarship. What is disturbing is the fact that the scholarship process is too straight forward and a very quick one at that. Over the course of one-two days the entire gamut of scholarships are awarded. The students who have just passed out of the high school system are all teenagers with most of them not sure what they want to do in the future. If they score good marks in biology, they opt for the medical scholarships. Physics, commerce, English marks all translate in to engineering, administration and journalism scholarships etc.

The RGoB requires that the students getting the scholarships have to sign bonds with the RCSC wherein upon the completion of the studies, the students will come back and work for the RGoB. This trend is particularly prevalent in the Education scholarships. The students who opt for this set of scholarships have to come back and become teachers. Not much thought is given by the students to the contract because the lure of a scholarship in USA, Canada and Australia overwhelms an impressionable young mind.

Only upon gaining experience and exposure during their study do the students become more concerned with their future. What if they don’t want to become teachers? What if they don’t want to work for the government? What if they want to start their own business back home? What if they want to work abroad?

I know of some of my batch mates who have availed these scholarships and have failed to return back home in time. They refuse to come back to the country and are working in foreign lands. From those who have returned, there are some who have refused to report back to the RCSC who is the scholarship dealing agency of the government. Some have appeared for the civil service examinations but have deliberately failed in it so as to escape the RCSC’s clutches. All they need to do is score below 50% in the exam so as to render them unemployable in the civil service. This loophole has been exploited but the RCSC has not done anything to address this issue.

There are scholarship students like me who have returned home, reported to the RCSC, appeared and have done well in the civil service examinations and now teaching or working in other sectors and serving the country. We have honored the contracts that we have signed with no rewards while some of our friends are making good money away from home. Good for them but where is the justice? Is the RCSC just a paper tiger? Where is their efficiency when they cannot even track a few students and their whereabouts? Why can’t they hold the guarantors and the guardians responsible for the students not honoring their contracts? Why are they not penalized and punished?

We were made to sign the scholarship contracts as soon as we were ushered out of the interview chambers. There was no one to give us legal counseling. We were just 17 year old kids out of high school. We were not told about what we were getting in to with the RCSC. How would teenagers know that their attitude and preferences would change over their period of study?

I hope that the current batch of students who get these scholarships think twice before they pen down a deal with the RCSC. Free education is fine and nothing is more gratifying than serving the Tsa Wa Sum but what if you want to do it in your own way? What if the routine 9AM to 5PM desk job in a governmental department does not appeal to you after the completion of your study? It equally becomes the responsibility of the RCSC to ensure that the students they are investing in are made to understand the pros and cons of the system as much as it is of the student to be informed about their decision. It should also be high on the RCSC’s priority to ensure that the scholarship process is not abused.

The Silence of a Colorful Night

As the diwali crackers keep firing and bursting in front of my hostel room’s window, I am reminded that even in within such chaos and noise, one can feel lonely. To help me understand how the human dynamics work, I decided to watch the movie “I Am Legend” (quite a coincidence that I happened to have it on my laptop). That movie just made me feel lonelier than before. Not the kind of help I wanted but I guess it reinforced the notion of silence in chaos that we always hear about.

Usually the hostel is bustling with life. Different people, different languages, and different body odors would linger in the corridors. But it is a different picture nowadays. Everyone has gone home for the holidays. The hostel is deserted. On my floor, only 4 of us have been crazy enough to not go anywhere. The electricity keeps going off every few hours. Had it been summer time, I would have died in the sweltering heat right now. It is smack in the middle of winter here in Hyderabad and I have heat rashes all over my right arm and chest. This does not bode well for me. I am going to get roasted come summer.

I am typing in the darkness. The mosquitoes are my only friends right now. Their buzzing around seems to drown out the eerie silence of my room so I don’t mind them except when they acquaint themselves too well for my personal liking. I do applaud them sometimes. They seem to dislike when I clap in the air. They must have gone through some traumatic experience with claps but that is for another day

I can still hear and see the fireworks from across the street. An affluent residential colony, right in front of my college, seems to have emptied their wallets on the fireworks because it has been going on since the evening and it is close to 10 pm right now.

The lights returned. There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to make a tough decision. It is time to cook some noodles because I made the decision to stop eating in the hostel mess. The yellowish grub along with the unidentifiable vegetables no longer appeals to me. I can only compromise so much. Maggi, here I come.