The Tale of Broke Dasho

This is my fourth month in the BBS. By standard of my illiterate villagers, I am junior Dasho because I have completed degree in October 2010. For them any education standard beyond class ten is considered a sure way to much desired title of Dasho. Even my family will be planning to visit Thimphu soon to enjoy the hustle and bustle of town.

Last month, an elderly villager asked me how much I earned in a month. I told him that I earned little less than one and half Thri (Ten Thousand). He exclaimed, ‘that is a lot of money. With that money you can buy house in Thimphu.’ I nearly puked hearing the word. Yet I patiently listened to his tales of how he travelled to Godama (present day) Assam. He told that with three Indian rupees, they used to get a big pot (probably 30 litres) and edibles that a man could carry. I wanted to remind him about changed times and dimensions but I didn’t.

I wanted to give that guy something as a gift from junior dasho (that is me if you doubt). Looking at my purse I saw Nu. 200 hiding sadly with loneliness. I gave out Nu. 100. In my bank account there are only five hundred bucks. In my apartment, I have one blanket, one Dunlop, five cups and plates each followed by most basic necessities like rice cooker, curry cooker and a water boiler.

Yet I felt proud when my villagers called me dasho because it really balms my unreasonable ego.