See You Next Year

Its been now so silent in the evening,i felt a rhythm of tranquility beating through the nerves of my body. Oh!,its Friday 31st December,2010.The time in my computer reads 4:05pm.I got down from a day's work,so that i would leave my self a time to post a final adieu to 2010 somewhere in a corner like this, like a diary keeper who wouldn't like missing an important event get skip by without being written down somewhere.My office mates leaving their desk greeting other fellows,"Happy New Year 2011".I quickly gave them back,Sir!,Madam!,See you next year.A shocking response from another table threw the words back.. ,"what, next year?,oh,yeah,yeah...he finally nodded and agreed."Wish you a prosperous 2011 sir!,",and he did vanished from the main entrance.
Its been quite windy,here in thimphu in the afternoon hours.I rushed and drive through the dried fallen leaves and twigs of willow that lie untrodden on the high way winter roads to my house, only to confirm that the sangpho bowl(incense burning bowl) is inside the house and later drive back to take my love for a new year lunch at Mid point restaurant,somwhere in the heart of magical Thimphu city.I had a friend who works in Mongar.He had a day full of sunshine,and we shared our heartfelt greetings for advance happy days ahead.
Well with year 2010 having been completed,its my 2 years in civil sevice serving my country and people through ICT services and asistance to my knowledge and rest from the experience and exposure taught to me from seniors.Some People often complain of having no work or playing games on desktop or simply facebooking from morning to evening,or finding scholarship programs,it may be right or to some extent rumours,but in all,i am sure,there are lot many works to be done.Infact when there are more responsibilities,we learn much more and get maximum of exposure.The sense of taking part and idea of having more responsibilities means a desire to learn more beyond the boundaries.The innovation and flaming desire of serving and excitement of my first day to the office is still within me and i ll keep the spirit no matter whatever lies on the way.
My parents,relatives,friends had been very supportive all the way.
It had been very the most wonderful times of my life and i must confirm to express here the amount of unfailing happiness and richness that i am endowed with for having a true friend like Sangay Thinley (nick name:khengpait@gmail.com/Pema Samdrup),he is blessed with so many names,while others have hardly two.
The warmth and love of another Sangay ('Miss Irish Coffee','one small window',my love and honey made me complete.Thanks to 2010 and years gone by,which otherwise i have never knew the value of 'living in the moments..' And there still many important people who had given me a true meaning of friendship and taught me essence of life.It gives me a complete sense of satisfaction to name all these people who made me and gave me the meaning of beautiful life.I wish you all,where ever you are ,"a very prosperous Happy new Year".I promise beyond words like the actors to their fans,to work and live upto the expectations of my country,friends,parents and my love.

To all the bloggers,incase if you come across these lines,you people had been the sole inspirer.Believe me,your writings had been very innovative and i breath to every pages of your post.These really made me discover an inner voice within me,to fall in love with writing.I promise,i am not a good writer,but my love for writing made me reflections and random thoughts within me.Good or bad,down the memory lane,at times it makes me happy to flip to the pages what i have written some day.An expression of what my thoughts did convey.What else i want more than this self discovery within me?

The years gone by had been really beautiful days and months.I am a two year old and the life had given me many wonderful adventures new meaning and purpose.


To all of You:
MAY THIS NEW YEAR BRING NEWLY FOUND PROSPERITY, LOVE,HAPPINESS AND DELIGHT IN YOUR LIFE...
Happy new year 2011

I was in Class PP A that time..

My dear Fountain Pen and Chelpark Ink,
I was proudly in class II since you were introduced to me.My handwriting was quite horrible,so big,hen-prints that lay aside on muddy clay garden perhaps.It was a rhyme that taught me from PP-down..up..down..up till the words turn into some colorful art.My class teacher Miss Yangchen had a tough time turning my stiff hands work into form. My lips would turn dark of soaking pencil into mouth to get the dark letters. My exercise book almost get bath into cooking oil that leaks out from my pack lunch.Still i manage to maintain a Geometry box rich with pencils,all marked with compass points,won from the compass match that requires a little narrow tunnel shaped and throwing at the pencils-a bet from the players.

It was later i choose to go for marbles than compass game.My luck was not good,you know.We had a group of friends who take pipe cycle to the school.A pipe cycle is a circular pipe with metal handle that chase the pipe wheel to turn while keeping balance without falling down.It was not about Apa reaching you in Mercedes,but a distance of more than 15 kilometre walking in a liberty shoe with village mates.A bully is sure on the way.You got to have techniques of giving them a chocolate or bribe,so that you don't get screw up.School going was really fun for me.Despite hurdles and tiredness,we live through apple orchards,peach ,plums like monkeys.The long distance walk would be enough to exhaust up all your breakfast energy by the time you reach to school.It was in the very first period,that you started falling a good nap,unless a bee sting from the back of ear wakes you up and you would then realized,all class mates chuckling at you and teacher taking all the energy to pull your ear up.Haha.I was at least lucky not to have experience the taste of prick nettle leaves on my butt like my friends.

Life in school is really interesting,even in the high school days,i lost up all my english exam paper time just writing 5-6 pages 20 mark essay on school life,because life is really beautiful and i felt it,that's why those memories never gets wipe out.

Well,dear fountain pen , I mean to be more specific,the Chinese Hero Pen and the chelpark ink,i still miss these two equipment.You know here in office, we don't have to use the pen frequently, that's why i lost all the beauty and the skills,art and connection with you.Still then this is a letter to You.

The class II A were in their most exciting moments,as they can now start using the pen.Some big handwriting,that goes off the exercise book track,some torn out their pages of ink flow on their book,some blue mouths,on ear,face,desk whatever,that's a scenario from a typical Class II A students pride in having a privilege of using fountain pen.The beauty of using a fountain pen,early morning i rise up rushing to brush up my shoes to get some cherry polish,only to washed with mud on the way,and filling up chelpark ink in the hero pen.After the breakfast,then its a time to go to school.Calling the friends and we rush in a queue with pipe cycle.

Beautiful moments of life still makes me and sometimes,i feel like going back again to the time where i come from.It is then helpless,I can just feel the life,i can silently write somewhere how beautiful those days are.

The Interpretation of Ata Kesang's happiness

It dates back to the days when Ata Kesang Tshering like other ordinary school going chaps can find jobs like treasure cave. You just need to point at the best gem.Gone were the days,where you get free even the soaps and towel at a remote boarding school.
"Our days of school had made us bold and brave,rising as early as lark,toiling through the dense forest,crossing massive rivers,walking up hills",said Ata.

"Today I am happy because those hardships and beautiful moments had given me sense of great contentment and happiness".

53 years old,Ata Kesang from Tashigang Thrimshing has been serving the country since 1975.Today he works in one corner of Flood Warning Section office under the Department of Hydromet Service.
Going to office has lots of fun.It's not just about the work of the day.Ata brings his favourite yellow -white stripped pack lunch hot-case ,and he opens up the aroma of kewa datse from his sumptuous vegetarian meal. His sweet wife has prepared his day's meal with all love and care.He could easily sense it from the taste of his lunch.

Today is Thursday.It's exactly 1:00pm.He shouts 'choai' 'choai' in sharchopkha dialect.The alarm signals the rest of his fellow mates reminding them for lunch time.Every one breaks out for lunch .
At times,it is hard to find space at the canteen.People like Ata Kesang finds a joy in togetherness. The taste of food is one,the conversation after food is another.It is here that I was introduced to his way and world of simple and humble living,a satisfied yet dignified style of life dedicating his free time to prayers .He spends a meaningful time with his children and make sure that they get enough of his attention and good values.

The earlier conversation we had at our lunch time was his profession and the times of his life.Ata was infact country's second group and the batch of students who were trained in wireless telegraphy operation.They were known as Babus-indeed wireless Babus,of higher profession.Initially as Ata recalls,there were only 13 of them.Some resigned now,few promoted as heads in several agencies,several others still at Bhutan Telecom.

It was in Eighth standard when Ata Kesang with group of friends decided to join the service offered by the Royal Government.There were many opportunities and scope.Competition wasn't that tough. Ata always had a notion to get a job,not because you get paid but that excitement and curiosity to serve and stand on your feet is a dream.His passion to be able to operate wireless telegraphy was of latest communication technology during the time.They were trained for almost one year in its operation.
The Wireless telegraphy at that time was under Information and communication.It was later used effectively for hydro-Met services in the country where Ata served as a part of the team.He received Nu 150 during the training phase.Later was incremented to Nu 250 per month as his salary. The wireless telegraphy uses code and morses.As Ata recollects, many of our people did make best use of it.However they also need to pay for a certain group of texts typed and sent."Initially we just had the message system,which was later upgraded to voice communication",said Ata.

Everyday Ata comes to office as early as 8:00am .His task for the day mainly includes fetching weather data updates from numerous stations across the country.For instance,Mongar,Samtse,Dagana,Chukha Sunkosh,Mangdechu sershong,Tendru and Deothang.Once he gets done with the morning routine,he prepares for the second update in the evening.If you happen to be around flood warning office,you would probably see Ata Kesang with wireless voice system  receiving and noting down the data  as far as from Lunana. The data is then being used for rainfall,flood and other weather analysis.

Away from work,Ata is a self sufficient and contented person leading good times of his life with children and his sweet wife.The savings he made from earnings is enough to take his wife and family for a yearly pilgrimage tour to bodhgaya.Ata walks all the way from Chanjiji to the office place with group of friends,conversing and sharing cheerful moments of life.He also takes advantage of the  city Buses.These buses had a theme,"Take a ride and be happy", which is similar to his noble philosophy of life and happiness.

He never had been late to office till date.
Ata looks forward for continued good times of life.Not only he prays for his family's welfare,he lays all his heart for the happiness and well being of the sentient beings.Just as he finds joy and contentment  in every simple thing,each day he discovers a great sense of INNER PEACE and meaning of living. 

Pages from My Grandmother’s Diary

In a world that spins relentlessly, Sangay learned early that a life free of trials and tribulations often lacks the richness of true joy. His life story unfolds like a vivid tapestry woven with struggles and triumphs, revealing that the essence of happiness is often forged through overcoming adversity.

In a dimly lit room, Officer Mindu struggled to stay awake. His finger pressed down on the switch that illuminated his small, gloomy sanctuary. The weak light barely dispelled the shadows of his harsh reality. Nearby, his ailing grandmother stirred awake from the sound of his anguished coughs, as thick blood seeped from his lungs. It was 1:00 am. Mindu’s mind, plagued by nightmares more tormenting than reality, was numbed by the alcohol he had consumed in a futile attempt to escape his fate. The pain in his back was a constant reminder of his deteriorating health, more oppressive than the haze of tobacco smoke that clouded his breath.

Mindu, in his youth, had been a beacon of brilliance, a star shining brightly in the constellation of his generation. Fluent in Hindi, a poet, a songwriter, and a skilled player of the Dramgyen, he was a school prodigy who had dazzled both peers and professors alike. His academic excellence led him to India, where his achievements continued to shine. He spoke French with surprising ease and was a master archer and bull’s-eye shooter.

His life seemed perfectly scripted. A brilliant student who never faltered, Mindu was a model of excellence. His essays earned admiration and his presence commanded respect. He inspired those around him with his courage and dedication, becoming a role model for many. His father, a hardworking farmer, was his greatest inspiration—steadfast and self-reliant, guiding Mindu through the challenges of life.

However, as the years rolled on, the gleam of his success began to dull. Settling into a successful career and a happy marriage, Mindu was blessed with a family, but his children grew distant. They sought refuge in fleeting pleasures rather than the values he had once cherished. The absence of hard work in their lives made it difficult for them to appreciate the depth of true happiness. Mindu found himself struggling to connect with his children, who were more inclined toward indulgence than introspection.

His wife’s involvement in gambling and neglectful parenting added to his distress. Mindu's life, once filled with ambition and purpose, now seemed overshadowed by the failures of his children and the strain of his own health. Despite the modern comforts surrounding him, he felt a profound emptiness.

As his children embarked on their own paths, Mindu’s role in their lives diminished. His mother’s death, exacerbated by stress, was a heavy blow, and Mindu’s sense of loss deepened. He turned to alcohol and smoking, attempting to numb his despair, but his health continued to decline. Doctors warned him of failing organs, but he was too engulfed in his sorrow to heed their advice.

In his final days, Mindu reflected on his life, feeling the weight of his mistakes. His once cherished faith and prayer had faded, leaving him to grapple with regret. Yet, amidst his suffering, a glimmer of clarity emerged. His dearest friend, a wise lama, advised him to find peace by giving away his worldly possessions. Mindu embraced this counsel, donating the proceeds from the sale of his car and land to noble causes: saving animals and building spiritual monuments.

As he neared the end, Mindu’s thoughts drifted back to his school days—the days of acclaim and achievements. He found solace in the memories of his past successes and the pure joy they brought. His grandmother, in her final act of love, offered him a last sip of water.

In the twilight of his life, Mindu found a measure of peace. With the "Tibetan Book of Living and Dying" in his hands, he faced his final moments with a calm heart. His journey, marked by highs and lows, left him with a profound understanding: that true contentment comes from embracing life’s trials and finding redemption through acts of kindness and generosity.

A dreamer who lost amidst the woods..

The perennial stream that run through the woods begin its course far flung the climax of Phajoding,a heavenly abode of gods and goddesses.

I narrate it as traditional masterpiece, hidden on the mountains where colorful prayer flags flutter and bravely stood against the mighty sky.

Stupas lay there so quiet yet so ancient,
The hills and mountains  awake me of   fairy tales,the happy endings.
I went up picking summer mushrooms.


It's Thimphu,a beautiful setting.
You fly through the woods,powered by wings of imagination
waving beyond the dancing clouds,
the Bluepines and grassy earth ,
I crept like a creature walking barefoot,
connected to the motherly earth.


The smoke incense from mountainside,
Three birds glided softly and vanished across,
I wish i could stay there forever.

A tree house,swinging from branch ,
the hush and tranquil breeze,
the cattle that graze on the meadows,

This Utopian bliss did cast an enchanting spell,
I picked up some more mushrooms,
Sooner my bag did fill up,

The city blooms in a majestic fashion,
an icon of heavenly country side,

From the hill that lounge the valley,
The awaken Buddha takes a glimpse,
The sparkle of his compassionate face,
relieves the rays of wisdom and profoundness,

I walk down through the woods,
skidding on bumpy slopes,
the echo of the mountain spring,
lasted in my thoughts,

I took the last gaze of the city,
A beauty beyond the words,
It lies there so green and so beautiful,

Summer Rain-The Remedy of my Aching Soul

Summer is one of the most beautiful season with moments of blooming perfume that lasted through call of spring reaching to every gardens and lawn.As clouds skip and walk majestically,i can't control the temptation of falling my self taken away by perfect icon of bliss.The scorching flame of day's extreme heat,worns and torns are being healed and relieved as summer rain droplets beat upon the wooden farm house shingles,through the cities of green and red metal sheets.Birds perched on the trees, dipped heads and furs up.The greenery part of scenery raises fresh and breathes out fresh tons of mother nature made-oxygen to the creatures who raise the child planet grow aside.
The blades of long flat youthful leaves and grass spread joy amidst the pathside that gave way to travellers through ages.Petals bloom and gaze as misty clouds passby with dazzling sight.An innocent pinky rose mesmerizes the fellows just by a first sight.She lay there charming and hypnotised, enough to converse to your heart's glee.
Summer Rain is the voice of mother nature's outward expression of happiness that washes and flushes away worries of dust,the negativity and impurities inside our mind.The rain at times can behave in two kinds of appearance,yet without her we are dumbed and numbed.
She is a mother, feeding to help generate revenue for the country.She is a music that provides rhythm to the farmers to help them sing life's song.She is an inspirer of life's survival.She wakes up every creature from the brink of their death bed.She leads the cycle of life and maintain its continuity.
To a photographer,she creates magic and wonder of the planet.The rain symbolises every aspect of life's element.
The beauty of landscape after a summer rainfall shouldnot be missed out in everyone's moment of happiness,because the power and charm in itself heals the weakening stationary minds of time.To me it has been a line of poetry,an escapism,reliever,healer,soothing balm and glass of wine taken with joy,pride and lasting moments of thought.

A Day in the Paddy Field...

My dear Apa and Ama,
Sorry,I couldnt come for helping you all in this most busiest time of the year,as i have some more urgent workshop days here in Seoul.But let you keep my pie and portion of work,so that when i come back,i would do my part in gathering water to the thirsty fields.

Its 5:00pm,as i took an evening walk after a day's lecture on information technology Systems.There in my room as i opened up my notebook and peeped through my yahoo email,its my sister's letter in my inbox.It read: Dear Tashi,Glad to know that you doing good there.We have just finished with our changla(paddy transplantation) a day before.

Well i still have missed this golden opportunity of connecting with nature.I dont know how people consider and take it,but for me,it has not been just a work since childhood,but an art that can heal time and remaining connected with nature.I remember recalling days with the power tractor,the farm ferrari.Its not so difficult in learning how to plough field.I heard tales of my brother plouging fields with oxen.Now how fortunate i m having been introduced to modern mechanisation,which not only ease effort but time and money.My apa had tough times of his years gathering shingles for house construction in olden days.Similarly ama was not bad,she is really a hardworking housewife.These features and qualities in them made them a perfect couple,understanding,yet quarrelsome at times."Like minds flock together everywhere" and its been true to my belief.

Life in a Bhutanese village is really interesting and peaceful.Earlier we do not have roads.The traditional way of crossing river through the wooden logs have been very popular.The busiest times of the year in farmer's life is transplantation season(changla)watering and weeding our weeds(damo and jitogni).The paddy has been oneof the most important crop,sustaining livelihood since ancient times,although mode of farming techniques had improved quite a lot after the introduction of modern machines on bhutanese soil.

Transplantation season is one of the most beautiful time of work.The work in our fields have been hectic.Usually during changla,around 20-30 people are involved only in transplantation,while 5-6 are for the langdo(mixing and pounding of mud with water)and one ofcourse with the tractor,crushing and preparation of muddy mixture.

Young group of ladies cajole throughout the day's work while transplanting the paddy in designed columns.Now with transplanting machines,a lot chunk of working is getting reduced.

The olden days parops hire and relatives come as far from Haa to help transplantation get done.In return the rice and other necessary stuffs were given as charges and payment.There were good mode of interaction through the long journeys,work,infact every place people go,the system of gross national happiness is strong although the right term has not been coined earlier.This dependency on each other made our Bhutanese stronger,happier,bonded,secure throughout times.

It is here that i realized,this important art and work,necessity in the life of our Bhutanese farmers do not get unnoticed,so that every people out there in the city can feel the presence of our roots and forefathers where we have been brought out,while understanding and imparting this living traditions to our generations as we pass down to the younger people.
There are still cases in the world where children see cows only through nursery songs and movies and portion of urban people do not have experience of countryside as rural sites turned into skyscrappers and high tech cities.There are more cases of growing crops in the town,using pesticides and fertilizers,chemicals enough to mature and ripe fruits before season.

We still have the live of living Bhutanese Village infront of our own eyes and sure it would go down the generations depicting the way Bhutanese lived throughout centuries.

Recalling my Childhood Ambition..

The other most interesting days of my school life were those when a new batch of trainees from NIE(in earlier days we call 'National Institue of Education' ) would come on thier teaching practice in schools.With smiles and new looks,they tend to make lesson very interesting through jokes,songs,poetry and even sometimes narrating their personal experiences of life and love stories of their school days.This could be perhaps one reason why we like and see them more closer and friendlier.But at times, it has its own pros and cons.

Well,infact the very first day of their class would meant a lot to us those days.It starts with introduction session and a brief psychological shock statement and question such as 'What is your ambition'. To the students is very common.Nevertheless,everyone donot seem to fear this question as answers are stereotyped.Perhaps i realized sometimes that,this question itself has lot in it.It would by asking make us visualise and set stepping stones to make goals come true.
Well i had a dream too, of flying in the air.My village is located in the heart of fertile agricultural terrains of paro valley amidst the bank of pachhu.Since my childhood,it drives me so crazy even to leave meals behind and run to our courtyard to gaze the flight soar higher and higher.The propeller of first aircraft Dronier 18 seater speeds in air as it makes a huge sound waving the monster through the clouds.That time i was just a little kid not even enrolled in school.Such was my excitement and joy.There was no sense of fear at all.Then it had always been joy to watch helicopters rotate blades as it crosses the white capped peaks like a giant bird hovering across the mountains.
This childhood 'watch and show' of excitement had kept a spark of motivation in me perhaps to become someone who can rule the sky oneday.The dream started with growth and achievements from the school days.But one fine day,a question lingered in my mind like an unpleasant dream that wakes you up from every reality.Can an opportunity be taken or otherwise can a secure vacant seat be there during my time.This sense of consciuosness awoken me up many times..perhaps high time that i opt for another field.The rise of electronic gadgets been very popular and slowly and steadly my interest in airfield started diminishing like a lantern almost reaching to the end of its fuel.I have no more mindset now,m not determined,i dont want to programme my life,i lost myself in the air of confusuion.I dont want to take a deep research on something and take life so seriously.I m a prepaid card and have validity.Now whatever comes m ready and bold to take the way ahead,i promised to be sincere to myself not serious.
It was until then my love for computers picked up.And yes i like the fun and all the applications.It helps me to network more friends,design beautiful family pages,troubleshoot confusuions,search and browse meaning of balanced life,provide security to internal mind from outside confusions.

Today yes its funny at times,but its good to recall those days,a childhood dream of pilot has now landed up in the age of information technology.Still then i do take and rule the sky riding the planes in the playstations,its cool and fun.

Most of us when we recall our childhood ambition and life now,tend to land up in different career as we change our perspective and interest and of all our love towards a particular work as we move on,whatever matters in the end is,i think we should be flexible with the change and ready to takeup anything as we love it and as we should do it..!!
.... Life is really a nature's beautiful art....

The Blooming Spring who stole my Heart...

The drizzle of spring rain dances on our little kitchen garden,which my sister cherished and cared ever since last winter's frost.

The garden has a robust iron fence with complicated pattern, which would not even spare  mice escape.

The dwarf baby sag,bean,chilly,green spinach and tuber shoots started peeping from this very fertile soil.

The soil had a compost all the way from Sangaygang.
This rain incessantly beats on a soft loosen earth,ultimately giving a kick away drink to all these cute little buddings.

I watched through my balcony.
The music of rain took me away.
The ushering cool air rushed through my fruity cruset jelled hair,
 like the afternoon spring wind ,
dancing from valleys to the green woods.

Dipped robes of fluttering prayer flags stood midst the profound sky,
When the claps finally stopped and mighty sun paved his way through the dark clouds.
I walked through the fields of this majestic spring,
A path from the hill that took me in the middle of blooming peach woods.

The road that filled with scent and flowers of young orchids,
All I could notice is the blushing cheeks of the blossoms.


The willow trees laughed,
The oak hugged,
The blue pines whistled,

To the top of my voice I roared,
Welcome back spring,
Only trees and flowers did respond,
I knew this song is the call of re-birth,
The return of hope,
The glory of happiness,


So calm,yet so fulfilling,
The soothing balm left me with years of thoughts,
Wonders and doses of beauty,
I felt like the Heaven on earth,
My heart has been stolen,
This is the kiss of spring..!!


Sangay Tashi,
written on random thoughts
Place:Thimphu,Changangkha
Spring,2010

Journey to the East: A Tale of Adventure and Reflection

As dawn broke across the horizon, painting the sky with hues of gold, the city of Thimphu stirred gently to life. The chirping of early birds cut through the serene silence of the morning, a symphony that woke me from the cocoon of my Bhutan Better Product bed. I emerged from the embrace of a soft, twilight-colored pillow and a Chinese silk blanket, feeling like a giant awakening from slumber. With tousled hair and a towel-marked face, I dashed to the bathroom for a refreshing shower, eager to shed the remnants of a long journey's fatigue.

This marks my first venture east, south, and then back to Thimphu. It’s a story of adventure—one that I’ll recount as a young Bhutanese traveler, along with my friend. While many might have tread similar paths, this journey is unique to me. It involved scaling hills and mountains, navigating through misty valleys, and braving relentless rain. The roads were rugged, the boulders unyielding, and the landscape ever-changing. From the chaos of Assam's duars to the calm return to Thimphu, every twist and turn tested our resolve.

Journeys like these blend joy with fear, laughter with courage. Although I haven’t ventured to Lunana’s snowy heights, my prayers for a safe trip were answered. It’s a reminder that cautious driving can prevent mishaps and ensure a safe return.

Travel brings both challenges and rewards. Whether it’s sipping tea with only Parle-G biscuits at a remote stall, or enduring altitude sickness at mountain passes, each moment adds to the experience. My friend’s preference for Eastern Sikam Phakshas contrasts with my own taste for beef and traditional Bhutanese dishes. Noodles, specifically Maggi, have their own charm, and the absence of rice at dinners surprisingly led to a slight weight loss.

By 2:00 PM in Wangdue, trees swayed rhythmically in the wind, and the Puna Tsangchu flowed majestically, its turquoise waters a testament to nature’s artistry. We stopped near Bajo to visit my sister, sharing a warm hug with my one-year-old nephew who missed his uncle’s playful visits.

As our adventure continued, we encountered snowstorms near Pelela, a fleeting winter wonderland before descending to Rukubji village, peeking shyly from beneath a snowy veil. The sun’s rays pierced through the clouds, casting a glow over potato fields and farmhouses. At Chendebji guest house, a few cups of coffee and chocolate biscuits provided the energy needed to navigate Trongsa’s winding tracks. That night, we rested in a cozy Bhutanese lodge, embraced by the town’s rich history.

Every morning is a fresh start. Our drive to Bumthang, with its stunning views of Chumey Valley and the ascent to Jakar Dzong, showcased Bhutan’s traditional charm and sacred sites. The journey continued through Mongar, where the road’s newly paved surface felt smooth under our tires. Despite the hot and humid change in weather, the night in Mongar was eerily peaceful, the town still recovering from recent earthquake tremors.

At TrashiGang, securing a lodge during festival season was a challenge, but we succeeded. My friend, an ex-Sherubtsean, proudly shared tales of his alma mater, showing me landmarks and recounting college memories.

As we approached Yongphula, the fog thickened and rain intensified, making visibility a challenge. Yet, the panoramic view of Khaling’s ridge was mesmerizing. Samdrup Jongkhar’s Wamrong town offered a simple lunch amidst the backdrop of recovery from a recent fire.

The road to Phuntsholing was demanding, with sharp turns and speeding trucks. An early morning departure from Samdrup Jongkhar saw us navigating through rough terrain and traffic, eventually reaching Phuntsholing by late afternoon after an arduous drive.

Reflecting on this journey, it’s evident that every travel experience is a mix of trials and triumphs. From the thrill of the road to the tranquility of Thimphu, this adventure has been both exhilarating and enlightening. As I unwind with another shower, I cherish the memories made and look forward to reliving them in days to come.