Buncoing Buyers

Bangalore is said to be the most expensive metropolis in India and is the home of millions. It’s a hustle and bustle city. Everything is lively, and there is no dearth of everything. You name it and you’ll get it. What matters is money? There is no dearth of anything, and people want it all; goods, transports, multi-cuisines, cheaters(Indian cheaters/buncos-- difficult to trust any Indian; be it poor or rich, low or high – they only want money) fruits, everything. People want it and they get it all. Anytime, anywhere.

Here in Bangalore, everything sells like hotcakes. You may go to the smallest shop and you will get surprised to see the shop buzzing with customers, and the climax of the story is in the big malls, dashing and pushing that make shopping lucrative. A little bit of monkey business is everybody, every day’s cup of tea. Today, I bought 1 kg of mango for rs.40. This is the season of mangos here-different types of mangos; round, small, big, sweet, sour, etc…you name it, there itis. I don’t care the name of mangos but their lushness/sweetness is all I mind. After buying a kg, I went to next vendors, which he willingly offered me the same size and the same brand for rs.30. I was buncoed. Such a gig. They would sell out everything for money.

The reason why things sell like hot cakes in Bangalore is because of the large population. Mind that in rush hours, people look like ants. Besides this, there are so many mixed populations from around the world. One thing I notice is that merchants are very lazy in Bangalore; the reason may be too many customers that keep them kind of fed up with works.

Back in Bhutan, my sister has a small shop. It’s located in Denchi, Pema Gatshel. She told me that she bought things for sale only to be expired. There is no buyer. And recently, losing hope, she shifted her shop from Denchi to her village. “Is it better?” I asked. “I am hoping, but now it’s worst than the previous,” she told me worriedly. I mentioned to her that this hope and expectation will lead you to poverty. I hope she understands it.

In Bhutan, we have dearth of people and thereby having fewer buyers. Our population is scattered and separated by valleys and mountains, and some handful of people live there and most of them are self-sufficient. Good, self-sufficient. If not, we produce nothing, and if we depend on shops like Bangalorien, there is little source to get money.

Money Speak the Truth

Money speak and it tell tales of anyone really loud. Who says that money can’t buy happiness? I have seen people dousing in without money and sadeness was all that they have. I have seen lovers going apart. I have seen losing friends when there is no money. I have seen people remaining alone and desolate. I have seen families deviling. I have seen men breaking stones. I have seen people nearing to commite suicide. I have seen people dying without treatment. I have seen children eating sweets hiding under the beds. I have seen men racing for the prize. I have seen Lamas pretending to be the perfect of all. I have seen students memorizing the texts. And I have seen…working all for money, tirelessly.

And I have also seen men buying happiness; I have seen men driving cars with all smiles. I have seen people changing home furnishes frequently. I have seen sick hospitalizing in the top-class hospital in the world. I have seen men buying everything sans asking for a discount. I have seen men changing wives like they change garments. I have seen men bribing to induce their works faster. I have seen lies becoming truth. I have seen people traveling to Hongkong, New York, Paris, London, etc. I have seen people talking about buying the country. And I have seen…enjoying all from money, selfishly.

I know, and I know like everyone that money can’t buy life, but why need life devoid of happiness? Why need a life of poverty and suffering? The answer a man always to seek from the God but the answer lies with the man. What an answer?…the man?

A man cannot agree upon the hard works, if haves and haves not are simply to divide the bridge. Having grown up and having spent a quarter of my life in an isolated and backdrop hamlet, I have seen people accumulating Chetrum by Chetrum to feed the growing family. I have seen several parents fighting in the sun and rain in the field. I have seen selling cash crops to afford education. I have seen every part of maddening life (a next story to write about).

On the other hand, people who are born with a silver spoon eat silvers and have a golden life. Happy and lucky. In the secondary standard was I, when one classmate told us that he travels frequently to Bangkok and his next destination would be Hongkong. Where some of us even could not reach to Hongkong market in Thimphu. Such is  the life for him. A jealous teacher then asked him about a number of rice plates he takes in a meal. Upon replying to only one plate, the teacher stated that he also takes only one plate of rice in a meal. Such was the farcical satiric remarked and such was the fate of a rich boy!!!

Now, I see many people settling abroad and studying long around the world, such as America, Australia, Britain, etc. Just like how cows spread in the forest, they too have. I wish if I have money, I would fulfill my honey dream to visit rollicking America. Visit only!!! Otherwise, those conceited Americans would say, “Why do all people like America?” That is utter bullshits to say; my motherland is the best and the homeliest place to stay. On the other hand, I have seen hundreds of Americans embracing so lovingly with other countries. It’s wicked and wrong for Americans' notion to think that people like to come to their country, but they can visit anywhere they liked. Anyway, if I stay any longer that far from my place diaspora feelings would oscillate my roots.

And like a dog coming back to his owner’s house after a day’s search of shit, I would be in my village-just as William Wordsworth desired to be with nature, to eat and defecate, not floundering in the air-nowhere to belong. Home is where the hurt is and first hurt and cut is the deepest. And that cut is the loveliest of all.

THERE WAS…

There is not a star that shines for me,

There were some

When they shone beside me

Now the darkness enfolds

Sometimes I think,

I’ve no star left in the sky.

There is not a flower that strikes me,

There were some

When they appealed my eyes and senses

Now the thrones prick

I live all the times hurt.

There is not a place that keeps me up,

There was a place

That kept neat and cheered up fresh

Now the four walls crush

Sometimes I think,

I’ve no place to live on the earth.

There is not an iota of happiness,

There was happiness

That honed and exhilarated the mind and senses

Now the sadness dulls

Sometimes I feel,

I’ve no way to regain happiness.

There is not a person who loves me,

There were some

Who showered with the love

Now they ebb like fluorescent

I’ve no voice of love.

There is no hope that keeps me going,

There were some

That furthered my strength

Now the dope has conquer

I’ve no life to lead.

There is not a mind to live a life,

There was one

That busied my life to become a success

Now having understood this transitory life

I’ve no meaning to understand better.

There is no longing for the world,

There was one

When I had your love

I was flying higher in the heaven

Now look at me

I can’t imagine the mighty fall.

There is no easy way to get love,

There was one I had

That kept my love as love

Now the hatred surrounds

How easy to fall in love.

There is no feeling of writing lines,

There were feelings

Those reached me to a fool’s paradise

Now my pen snug in-between my fingers

My feelings melt on the tip of the nip.

Piper: The poem may go on and on…lookin’ for emerald green lights and open doors in life.

Hollywood <>+=-?<>Bollywood and then to Drukpawood

Bhutanese take pride in three names - religion, culture and traditional -- and these often come to the rescue of our identity and nationalism when any intellectual debate outside occur.

Being a proud and real Bhutanese, I wanted my youth to absorb as much of Bhutanese in them, but as luck would have it, none of the youth now show much interest in religion, culture, and tradition.

However, I myself being a subservient son of Bhutan have its own perils. When I was a thirteen-year-old kid, I watched GasaLamay SenGi with my friends. It was Bhutan’s first movie. To be or not, it was not about religion, culture or tradition, but human bonds- love triangle. There were little fights, dishoom-dishoom and some songs. The movie moved some of us to be like heroes and it entered inside our juvenile brains. It was no traditional-cultural film, I remember.

Today, when I look back at those days, a sense of nostalgia takes over. I can reflect the flicks of that movie. It was in fact, the emerging of movie-making in the country. I am not a Bhutanese movie buff. I watched GasaLamay SenGi as there was no TV at those times. Now, I am a type of ‘Wood;’ Hollywood and Bollywood. I have watched about seven Bhutanese movies so far. Therefore, I find Bhutanese movies a little un-Bhutanese, a little tactless, amateurish, sluggish, and predictable. All copycat. Bollywood from Hollywood, Hollywood from Bollywood, and others ‘woods’ and then to Drukpawood. Our Drukpawood is the mixture Masala of all Woods. And thinking it would become delicious Emadatshi. And thinking because of these testy Emadatshi, that our ‘Drukpawood’ could also match the international level, we copy. But otherwise, it’s the commonly tasted ones. Our Dzongkha is becoming Dzonglish. Anyway, let’s think over this; Fiji, a smaller country than Bhutan produces the world’s best movies.

Most of our Bhutanese movies do not depict the story of the rich history of our country- its rich historical background and traditions. We had so many Penlops, Deps, legends, myths, and folktales that could be made into very good films. For example, the legend of Ling Gesar Ghyap, Zhabdrung, and his Dzongs, etc could be made into beautiful movies. But nowadays, yes, nowadays, we live in the floating world, so we see in the movies some flashy cars, immaculate houses, decked up ladies in tatters, fancy mood lighting, all these flesh and bones, and difficult to understand what and why are they portrayed.

Some film directors look like rocky rock. See Tshering Wangyel’s girly hairs and the blackest spec. whatever he may be, people love his directions and his films.

Photo credit: Facebook (TW)

Bhutanese movies are very much threaded in misery and weepy kind of life with little sparkling moments of joy that brings a smile to the viewer's face. The scene in which Phurba Thinley tries to behave like a woman gives little guffaws or the westernized musical party where the kids gather, dance, and sing an Nga Chelu Ga, Che NgaLu Ga or ting-a-ling-ling-song. Otherwise, there is no striking moment in the movie. The scene in where Singlam and Galam go to see their old ruined house and breaks apart, or cruel mother-in-law, Aum Lamo crouches the head of a hero’s girlfriend and thrashes on the wall, or the scene of heroes running through sometimes in poverty and dejections (and it usually happens because of the lady he loves... gripping lives... and then, they understand each other-their heart, they become together and start a new life, which will be a success within a minute flicks). The films, most of the time tighten the knots showing brutal and faithless life, making audiences, especially Bhutanese women considering their life like film.

Films must excite, startle, thrill, and shake viewers. Its effects cannot be produced by a play that is lacking in conflict. The conflict in the movie may be between human beings pulling in different directions, between a character and the environment in which he finds himself or the society in which he is a member. Movies must generally represent human sufferings, which raises pity and fear among audiences and make audiences decide that the film is a great one in its tragic appeal. The misfortune of the film should be simple and straight- forward, but sublime and universal in its penetrative appeal.

The good film as per my judgment should represent human suffering, have fear and pity, embellished language, and have emotional/cathartic appeal, and of all, it should educate, entertain and inform. There are two views on the tragic vision of life. One is that man is the plaything of inscrutable power called fate and another is that character is responsible for the tragic end. In Greek tragedies, tragic fate for the heroes is predetermined. Oedipus and Antigone become obstinate and tyrannical. Their tragedy is due to their overconfidence in their respective attitudes.

Films though portrayed antinomies of our lives, a majority our viewers take it as reality. Because of this, the films should touch various themes and issues, and, not only love failures that dominate most of our Bhutanese films, the films must represent history, contemporary Bhutanese society, roles, changing relationship,s and educate about the morals of faith and believing.