The Chuzom

Last time, on the way to Paro, I sneaked out of my car for a few minutes to see the Chuzom. I was saddened—almost defiled—to see these two rivers. Do they ever have clear and clean times? I would say a big 'NO' and a small 'yes,' because we humans are the tragic villains in their lives. Still, the Thimchu and Pachu are the Phochu and Mochu of Punakha—playthings and beautiful designs of God.

The Chuzom

Coming from the clear cavities,

glaciers of Tibet and Jomolhari,

the calm rivers of Thimphu and Paro

meet at Chuzom-

like lovers long decided.

I stand at the Chuzom confluence

and asked: What have you brought for your lover?

For they both come from the wealthiest Dzongkhags.

They only tickle a clatter

and move on-

Carrying the specter of urban decay and death,

a stagnant slate of all sorts and sizes

of unwanted things:

plastics, papers, tins, rubbers, bones, vegetable covers-everything.

Their faces were tainted with greases and oils.

They move on. uncomplaining.

Oh…no…

Coming from such rich places,

What have I to give you?

The two forces strengthen at Chuzom,

and their zeal moves on.

Crossing violence and serenities without a sojourn,

they run together toward their destination,

collecting what they never asked for.

Their only goal is the limitless sky of the ocean—

just as the grave is the only destination for man.