Nawang P Phuntsho

At the Manglabar Mela , there were so many things to attract one’s attention. But my attention was even more drawn by a blacksmith in the middle of the pathway trying to carve rings out of a few old horseshoes that lay beside him.  There was nothing extraordinary about his art – the rings are plain, a mere strip of iron jointed to form a circular shapes. There was no expensive jewelry studded in any portion of this ring. In all, it is a plain ring – plain, simple and crude. But some people’s eyes accidentally fall on the old man’s goods. I had no idea why horseshoe rings were in demand.  “It brings in good luck and fortune,” the blacksmith was promoting his rings. “It is made out of horseshoe.” Luck is what everyone needs these days. So, I bought this lucky ring. But my curiosity did not stop there. And I had to visit Mr. Google for an answer.         Man shares a strong bond with his horse and it is the man’s best friend. There is a strong reciprocation of love between the r

This friend of mine makes me read and wants his writings edited. And he expects some comments for improvement. I am not a trained editor. Neither did I attend a writing school. But still when someone is really in need of help, I decide to do what I can to make others inspired. Trying to inspire others is what I try  to do. I will continue to do that. Nothing makes me happier than to see my friends improve their writing styles. But this friend is unique. His heart is too small for my frank comments. And when I point out some of the areas that need improvement, he would end up explaining to me as if I understood nothing from it. He would come up with a thousand of reasons to refuse my comments. At the end of it all, he leaves me high and dry. Rather, I end up listening to his lecture. But I tried my best before I decided not to comment and instead praise his writings. And now he does not expect me to edit his work. There are people out there. They want us to comment, but their hearts

We have had enough - this heat. But now the pleasant weather is at sight. Phuentsholing would soon be the most coveted place in Bhutan. People in colder regions including Thimphu would be dying to come down. The place would once again be the country's commercial hub as it is rightly called in our official documents.  AT least for now,  mornings and evenings are pleasant walking is fun although there are not much scenarios for our eyes to feast on. But we are glad Phuentsholing will soon rise from the ashes like the mythical phoenix. But as more and more people and cars come down, the town would be packed beyond her capacity. Parking spaces would be more scarce and in absence of proper footpath, walking can become riskier and more dangerous. And Jaigaon businessmen have braved the heat to wait for this time of the year. They must be already dreaming good business. Bhutanese would come and shop like they would die the very next day. No doubt these businessmen are smiling now aft

This is none of my business, but I was shocked of RSTA director's comments to Bhutan Times on Sunday 25th October, 2009, where he said that more and more Bhutanese people are availing loans from the banks to buy cars. A nd having to pay back the bank is affecting the family economy. H e went on to say that families are facing difficulties in repaying. the loans. The director was also quoted as saying: "In the past past most Bhutanese preferred to walk, but now they want the luxury of car, and this has deteriorated their health." That's true. An increasing number of Bhutanese thinks that cars are no more luxury it was thought a decade or so ago. And to do that people borrow money from the banks. I guess that's how banks make money - through loans. That's how banks earn revenues for the government. For the governments pay civil servants. I understand we must find ways to curb traffic congestion, but whether a family is unable to pay back the loans or i

Last week BBS tried to cover Bhutan's unemployment and its teething effects. It has the message that in the wake of modernization and increased development activities, human filial bond is weakening. But the crux of the matter is when one is stuck with unemployment, even his/her relatives and friends shun him/her. That might be true to some extent.  Now, coming to the persons who appeared on the screen, two Sangay Phuntsho both of whom are from a village called Wamling in Zhemgang Dzongkhag, one Sangay Phuntsho is portrayed as having no one to put up with in Thimphu and staying with his friend, another Sangay Phuntsho, who is only recently employed. BBS has overlooked the fact that they are from the same village. And especially Wamling is a small village where everyone knows everyone and everyone is related to everyone – it means the two are more than just friends. They are from Zhemgang, which means Khengkha is their mother tongue, but it seems they converse with each othe

The other afternoon, I was talking to one of my friends. Obviously he must have gone through my blog. “So, you are getting married huh?” a bold question. “Yeah,” I tell him. “After all I am not growing any younger.” “Yes that’s true,” he agrees. “Congratulation! When is the wedding?” “Dorji, I don’t believe in ceremonies,” I tell him. “When we move out together we are married.” “I mean formally marrying,” he clarifies. “You see, I am neither a prince nor a celebrity figure.” Today marriages are synonymous with pomp, power and wealth. Today the number of loaded bank accounts and cars to park in your garage determines the amount of recognition of your marriage receives. It is display of dignity and social status. It is an occasion of course to boast to the world that you are getting married to so and so, who is the daughter or son of so , an influential man in the government or a business tycoon. The couple no doubt needs people’s wishes and prayers for an eventful life a

Kuensel dated October 7, 2009 reports a case of daylight robbery at Phuentsholing where 5 armed men who seemingly were from across the border robbed. It seems the residents have responded to a knock and opened the door, which any polite Bhutanese would do. Thank, Buddha the lives of residents were spared although they had to part with Nu.8,000. But how safe are we? How is safe is Phuentsholing? And how safe is Bhutan? I am scared. The moment I read the news fear bore holes in my bones. It should scare and worry any sane people living in the vicinity. Why? Because the moment you open your doors, you really don’t know whether it would be your friends or fully armed men. To open or not to open our doors is the question. Kuensel finds that the house had “no door chain or peephole” as the police recommend. Maybe the City Corporation should take this as excuse to insist all houses in the locality to have such provisions. But again, how many of us remember to use them even if we have the

Yes, that’s a theory in economics which says that the number of underwear bought and sold at a market is an indication of how an economy is doing. This theory (sounds crazy to me) contends that there is a higher probability of men buying more underwear when the economy is healthy and conversely they are more likely to resist the urge when the economic condition is bleak. Sounds true though, right? Since these items are basic necessity some economists must have been tempted to base their theory on the underwear. Don’t laugh at me now; spare you laughter for the economists.   How many underwear did you buy this month or this year? Come on now, I am just curious as to know how Bhutanese economy is doing. I don’t buy the fact that when it comes to underwear men are crazy and it is like they have to buy it by any means. I believe women are crazier when it comes to undies. Some go to the extent of skipping meals so that they save enough to buy new and colorful items. Well, that’s an exag

Sometimes the heat is beyond toleration point even in the mornings. And being a man without wheels to roll on the road, I have no option but to ride taxis to office almost every day. God, I am getting more used to the rides these days. And bulge on my tummy laughs at me. Once I reach the office premise, I regret the decision because the distance is not even a song’s length played on the cab’s music player. I get out with so much hesitation more so from wanting to hear the song in full. And sitting in car in the front seat is the weirdest moment I am getting to experience these days. My conservation or the drivers’ or our conversation begins and concludes on the same note: “It is getting hotter every day mosh ?” “Yeah the heat is too much…” “So, you are from here right? Don’t go on long journeys?” “Yeah, but only sometimes, so many taxis in town… no business…” “Oh I see …” And on reaching this abandoned section of the road: “I don’t know why they never repair this part of th

Yesterday (October 1, 2009) for the first time in the history of our organization, we conducted our board meeting via a video conferencing device, provided by Royal University of Bhutan in Thimphu and College of Science and Technology in Phuentsholing. We talk on the phone every day, but seeing the person at the other end is a unique experience. Especially when we have multiple road blocks on Phuentsholing-Thimphu highway, it comes as a big relief to us all because it would be easier to conduct those emergency meetings.  Other than the echoing hall, I thought the sound quality was okay. But on the whole pictorial quality was terrible. If a person moves, the images are beyond recognition. Of course that maybe due to inferior connection, I guess. It was like watching familiar faces on a huge television screen one whole day. But like any other meetings, it was a helluva of a meeting, you know what I am talking of – (all meetings invite sleep ---shhh don’t tell anyone) However, it is am

I received this email from a stranger who calls herself Miss Dorimab Kuru. I was surprised she mentioned my profile on nopkin. I am scared now – I have let loose some information there. How safe we are on the net only time will tell. And I find people on the net who claimed to have received similar mails. If you are the next receiver, I won’t be surprised.  The following is the dittoed email: My name is Miss dorimab Kuru, I saw your profile today on www.nopkin.com and became interested in you, i will also like to know you the more, and i want you to send a mail to my email address so i can give you my picture for you to know whom l am.Here is my email address ( dorimab4u@yahoo.com ) believe we can move from here.I am waiting for your mail to my email address above.Miss dorimab.(Remeber the distance or colour does not matter but love matters alot in life) I don’t know how many of such mails I would be receiving and how many of you would be too, but if you receive one just