Dorji Tenzin: Random Thoughts like Cries of a Clown

Sometime in 1985, a boy was born to a single mother while she was weeding in the rugged maize field.   A 34 years old woman squatted on the ground as she was seized with labor pain. Hidden among waist-length maize plant shoots waving lazily in the wind, she pushed hard. A baby fell on the ground. It rolled down the slope before she could regain strength. Luckily, it was struck on group of sturdy maize plant. She used her Tego to wrap her child as she had no other means. Tired, thirsty and hungry, she stayed there not knowing whether to throw child or take her home. She was afraid of her parents because she already had two children without father as father had left them. The father of child in her hand was husband of her younger sister who gave birth a few months ago. The man had double crossed her. She almost made her mind to hide   baby boy in nearby forest but soft cry emanated   from innocent face made her think otherwise. When she took the boy home, her parents weren’t an

When I was a kid, village festivals and annual household rituals were great sources of excitement for me and other children of my age. We would dress up in our possible best whenever there is community Tsechus. We would go early in the morning and returned late at night. We loved to watch Atsara teasing village damsels with wooden phallus while girls giggled and played coy. I often wished I was that clown so that I could crack vulgar jokes with those beautiful damsels. In the same way, boys of my age never missed annual household Lhasel or household deity propitiation which usually started in the evening. Boys of our age especially teenagers would be coerced to shout vulgar cants and do vulgar acts as required by those village priests according to their religious texts. We would happily shout vulgar things like, ‘the hostess has deep holed female part and head priest has long male part.’ We would also cover ourselves with blankets or cloths and perform dances and do coitus play

The experience of failure is bitter pills I got to experience when I was in the institute right after the royal civil service examination selection. The feeling of inadequacy and stupidity was so overwhelming that I felt like most stupid guy in the planet. I wanted to blame everybody for the failure except myself. It was so difficult to admit that it was anything but my fault. Actually, it was my fault. When somebody asked me at RCSC secretariat why did I fail, I said directly said that I failed because I didn’t know. My two friends (who failed like me) said that I was making fun of the man who questioned me. I wasn’t making fun of him because for failure I have nobody to blame but myself. If anybody asked me why I failed, I will always have a simple answer; I failed because I didn’t know. However, if a person asked me why I didn’t pass when all other passed or why didn’t I score high marks I have many answers under my belt. 1.     I didn’t pass because I didn’t sit next to

He had been recently out of a business college in Bhutan. He graduated summa cum laude in his batch. He was also well-known for his wits and oratorical skills inside the college. He had also leadership skills and known for his entrepreneurial aptitude.   When he graduated he was certain that his ability would get him into best of national corporations as he had decided not to sit for civil service examinations. When one of the finest public corporations floated a vacancy for a post, he was delighted. He was certain that such post would select someone like him or even better as there would candidates who studied in third country. Few weeks later, he found out that he was shortlisted first based on scores he had in high schools and college among twenty others. He was now almost sure that he would get that job as almost all of the competitors were from his college. None of graduates who competed head to head with him in college had applied as they were waiting to appear in civil