Nawang P Phuntsho

MPs - enter at your own risk! Wow! Another excuse! I can't believe it.  Our politicians claim to be busy in the capital with myriad meetings and appointments that they hardly have time to go back to their people who have elected them. Once the public have cast their votes in our leaders, they have disappeared. Some are reported to have visited their constituency once or twice, but others I doubt if they have (if not with the coincidental visit of some important people).  Now they are officially making it clear that they cannot go back to their constituency. Well, at least some are complaining for those who go back. They say it is indirect campaigning. But I think our MPs have obligations to the people who have vested so much power to represent their voices. I only find it reasonable for them to visit their people and share their views and opinions for mostly our people are illiterate, who do not understand what drama goes on behind the curtains of majestic National Assembly

The majestically seated Oracle    Do you want to know before hand whether you would ascend to heaven, the land of bliss (Zangdopelri Zhingkham) or descend down to the hell after you die? Do you wish to know how much misdeeds you have accumulated this life? Do you like to commit that henceforth you would change your actions? Well, if your answers are all ayes, then visit a place called Zangtherpo in Bumthang. The place is close to the historic and holy Kurje Lhakhang. The site of the oracle (if that’s what is supposed to be called) is located below Zangtherpo Primary School. The test of emptiness There is a big rock that sits like a giant fat woman stretching her legs. From distance it resembles a frog that is about to jump. Many pilgrims visiting Bumthang make it a point to visit the famous Zangtherpo oracle.   Testing their deeds The way is simple. All you have to do is offer some prayers and start to roll a rounded pebble from the top of the big rock and watch

Following are a few pictures from my recent trip across the country. Please treat your eyes to these beautiful scenes.  Since I can't proxy, I will let the images speak for themselves of the beauty of our country side.

“Don’t cut your nails in the house,” our grandmother used to lecture us when we were children; when our hearts were delicate, tender and amendable. “It would bring about misunderstanding and chaos in the family.” And who would want to have misunderstanding and chaos in the family? The fear of being the messenger of misunderstanding in the family was so great that we would avoid cutting our nails in the house.   “Children, always avoid sweeping the floor as soon as the guests leave the house,” she would instruct us. “The act would sweep away all our luck and fortune.” And for the same reasons, sweeping the floor immediately after the departure of the guests is avoided at all times in most of the Bhutanese homes.   It is also believed that cutting our hair after the darkness would actually shorten our lifespan and still today most Bhutanese consider it awful to cut their hair once the sun goes down. At least this was so in the villages. Of course now in towns and cities, people cut

It was cold wintry morning at Wangduephodrang. The narrow road along the congested town lay icy and slippery. The sun was about to rise. A friend of mine and I were braving the cold, waiting for an early ride to Thimphu. The previous day the two of us got stranded at Trongsa as our bus left us behind. We followed the bus at close distance but our hope of catching was lessening as the darkness fell on us. We decided to spend the night at a shop that belonged to someone whom my friend knew. As guests we had no option but to wake up early that morning. And we were waiting outside the shop for unlikely ride. And as we were waiting outside, we saw an early man riding a scooter speed by us. We thought the man had some urgent errands to attend to, but to our surprise, he returned a few seconds later, driving at an aggravated baby cheetah’s speed. No wonder the company branded the scooter “Chetak”. We agreed he could make good policeman.  And to our amazement, the scooter came again as usu

His name is Tharchen. In Dzongkha it means “accomplishment” or “success” or literally, it means “completion”. How symbolic are Bhutanese names? Do they have an over bearing influence on the character of the men or women, who carry those names? In keeping with his symbolic name, Tharchen went on to successfully become a dairy farmer at his village in Dagana. Now there is nothing great an accomplishment in becoming a farmer, you’ll contend. But that’s not it. Tharchen understands what it means to become an educated farmer and shows the Bhutanese youths the way to self-employment. In this sense, he is a perfect role model to many young people in the country, especially when more and more people from the rural areas are pulled magnetically towards the urban centers. Tharchen has a Bachelor’s Degree in Biological Science from Sherubtse College. And contrary to the hope and wishes of his friends and family members, he abandoned the idea of building a career in the “comfortable” civil