Uzorongpa's Fist: A short story of exterme humiliation & anger!

  Uzorongpa’s Fist       - by Pema Choidar

‘Uzorong’ is a village in Trashigang district of eastern Bhutan. The people who hail from this village are known as ‘Uzorongpa’. Bhutanese add the word ‘pa’ to the village name to imply from where they come from. So, if you are from 'Druk' you become 'Drukpa".

In the ancient folktales of Bhutan, the Uzorongpas were famous for their stories of both wits and follies; witty tricks played on others including the district governor and the acts of stupidity that even cost their lives.

 An oral transmission of a tale of Uzonrongpa narrated that once the village headman called all the villagers for their usual meeting on an important issue. Uzorongpas attended the meeting along with other villagers from ‘Kanglung’ and ‘Yonphula’. Now, amid the discussion, the headman suddenly started scolding a man from Uzorong for some reason. The headman angrily shouted at the top of his voice, speaking harsh words and he nearly beat the man. The Uzorongpa remained silent, lowering his head and tolerated the humiliation. He trembled with fear before hundreds of villagers. Nobody knew if that submissiveness was directed by his respect or cowardice. Then, the meeting was called off and people left for their homes.

The Uzorongpa also walked home in anger and humiliation. Then, he reached a ‘Choeten’ or a Stupa on his way home. By then he had reached the strategic place where the village headman could neither see him nor hear him. There, he stopped and started expressing his anger in response to the extreme humiliation inflicted on him during the meeting.

The Uzorongpa stood firmly behind the ‘Choeten’ or the Stupa so that the headman or other people could not see him. Then, he held his head high, clenched his fist, raised it in the air and brandished at the headman. He waved the fist towards the direction where the headman lived as he shouted, “I hate you, you’ll receive this big blow on your nose and see it get flat,” he continued in a frenzy of extreme rage, “You thought you could scare me, never in your life!”  Some fellow villagers eavesdropped on his countless words of curse for the headman. He continued, “I'll see you soon, let’s see who can save our head first, Monster headman!” But the narrator said that he never dared to say a word whenever he met the headman.

Today, if anyone speaks bitter words to express anger and defiance against one’s superiors in their absence, we remind the person not to show the “Uzorongpa’s Fist” or “Uzorongpa Mootoomaang” to be precise.   

life is full of surprises!!!

My Best Friend                    -by Pema Choidar

She studies in Pune, India. I’d just started working when we first met. Now we are as one; nothing stands between us.

“Hello, Pema, it’s tea-time!” my colleague Choden suggests. “I know,” I join her to a canteen nearby.

“So, how is she in Pune?

“Fine, I just called her last night.”

“She must be missing you.”

“Yes, but she has lots of friends.”

Our conversation drifts from one thing to another. Just before heading back to work, she invites me to her place for dinner. And so, we became friends. She reminds me a lot of my beloved Kesang, may be because she always asks about her.

I called Kesang later.

“Guess what?” I said. “I’ve got a new best friend.”

“You, what?”

I knew she heard me the first time but I repeated what I’d said. She didn’t seem too happy to hear my news and cut me off mid-conversation. I had so much to say.

Something changed between us. Later I came to know that her friends called her to say that I was flirting with another girl. Kesang burned with rage, suspicion and hatred for my best friend.

Back in the office, Choden tells me that she’s going to marry the love of her life. I offer my congratulations and wish her happiness.

“Will you miss me after I’m married?” she asks.

“Will you?” I reply.

She nods and so do I.

One night Choden decides to call Kesang.

“Hi! I’m Choden, how are you?”

“Um- I’m fine,” replies Kesang, somewhat nonplussed.

“I guess Pema told you about us, didn’t he?

“Yeah, happy to know you,” Kesang made an effort to sound friendly.

“Then, why don’t you come for my wedding, on Sunday?”

“Thanks. I’ll try.”

“I’ve a surprise for you…,” but Kesang had hung up before Choden completed.

Kesang felt shocked out of her wits. Her final exams were in a week’s time. Back home, the love of her life was tying the knot. Life was unfair!  She felt the enormous weight of despair on her frail shoulders. Her friends found her in tears and persuaded her to forget it.

 “There are plenty of fishes in the sea,” they said.

Kesang herself had rejected many a young man and now she regretted a few. Yet still she had hope for she knew her man so well.

I tried to call her and wish her the best for her coming exams but couldn’t get through. Even her best friends denied access. That’s what friends are for! I guess, they were trying to break us apart.

Kesang decided not to write her papers and head straight home. Her friends tried to dissuade her. “I just wish to give them khadar (scarf),” she said. She left for Bhutan and looked quite sick when she got home.

Sunday: at the wedding ceremony, everyone was all smiles. She joined the queue to offer ‘khadar’ and by the time she reached the couple, her eyes were wet with tears. And them-Surprise! Surprise!

-Dedicated to all the lovers.

-Published in Bhutan’s National Newspaper ‘KUENSEL’ on August, 16, 2008

Reproduced for Knowledge Management Course, M.Ed (Management), Mahidol University.

 

 

thriller & suspense- wisdom

 

The Solace Seeker- by Pema Choidar

“Tong…tong….tong!” the gong resounded through Lamai Gonpa Buddhist monastery. Its sonorous tones carried through forests, over valleys, up cliffs, down gorges, blending with the serenity of the place.

The young novice monks, tonsured and maroon-robed rushed towards the entrance from all directions.

An elderly monk, Gelong Mindu stood still, with a blank gaze towards the western horizon, drinking in the resonance of the gong until it dwindled and died in the distance. ‘Ah! To retire for repose after a long day’s service in toil,’ he sighed, staring after the golden trail of the setting sun.

Mindu was in wonderland.

Down to earth, back in his office, he sat in an armchair, fixed his eyes on the computer console while his adept fingers typed out the alphabet. He must finish the work, yet his very thought of haste impeded the pace of its execution.

Soon he was to be with Tshoki.

Almost time. Before shutting down, Mindu checked his e-mail. There! Tshoki had given the time and place of their rendezvous. His spine tingled with anticipation. Time up! Shut down. Mindu left.

They drove to Tshoki’s place, watched their favourite soap on TV, and made light talk over dinner as usual. Having gone together for the last ten years, they had finally decided to settle down. Their wedding had been fixed to be in a fortnight.

Mindu returned to work the next day in a cheerful frame of mind.

Then the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Is it you Mindu?”

“Yes, something wrong?”

“Um… I’m…” Tshoki’s voice sounded strange.

“Is there anything the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” she hung up abruptly. He stared at the phone, and then noticed he had e-mail on his computer screen. It was a note from Tshoki which read:

Dear Mindu, I’m already engaged to somebody and I’ll be marrying him soon. I couldn’t bear to tell you before but now I must. I know how hard it is for you. It hurts me too. Please forgive me. Goodbye. Tshoki

The very next day, Mindu tendered his resignation. He was called several times for an explanation. Exactly one week later, his phone rang. It was his boss; his resignation had been accepted.

“Excuse me!” his young friend nudged him.

Mindu stood there dazed for a while.

“It’s late, “said his friend, “you are miles away.”

As he approached the hall, he could hear the melodic sound of the prayer in progress. He entered with burgeoning faith and beatific smile. The other monks seeing his asinine smile wondered if Gelong Mindu was going senile.

-Written in Loving memory of my late Grandpa, Meymey Mindu.

Published by Bhutan’s National Newspaper, ‘Kuensel’ on June 26, 2004.

-Reproduced to fulfill the requirement of KM Tool for Knowledge Management Course, MEd

Reflection: Wisdom is pursued through the sufferings.