Reflecting Back

It has been four years since my father passed away though it seems like ages since he left us.I always believed that he trusted me too much to have left such a huge responsibility on me. He passed away seven months after I started working. He has been really sick for a long time and he held on to us because if he was gone, there was none to look after us. Though my father had a son like brother in-law, he never visited us after his graduation and I am sure my father never believed that he would be taking care of us. Though I always thought he should have been there for us, always, I now think my father was actually right. We have no right to have such an expectation from whosoever. That is yet another story and no matter how long the time passes away, I will never forget this sad story of my late father.

My father spoke very few words and through his silence I always got the message that I have to take care of my five siblings. And I am proud to say that I have tried my level best to be the best sister, though I might have failed in many instances. I have tried to be an adviser, a role model and  a friend. It was difficult for me but I must say I am lucky to have my brothers and sisters who knew my responsibilities and always respected for who I am. And I always believed that I must have done something good in my past life to have found my life partner. He is my best friend and if it was not for him, I would be still struggling alone.

Hopeful Mother

I have been going through the bumpy road since the day I flew to Melbourne from Bangkok. I was pretty geared up for this but somehow I really couldn’t make myself understand why I am doing such a terrible thing to my family and myself. I think sometimes we are really not ready to accept the things even when is obvious.

Being a mother to barely a two year old daughter, I always have and will hate the part of leaving her back home with her father while I come here to enjoy the freedom of so called pursing masters. But believe me, I am always guilty and the last thing that I want to hear is someone saying that I don’t care for my daughter. I know it is apparently true; otherwise I wouldn’t be leaving her at the first place. And knowing what I did for her, I am still not able to accept the fact that I might not have cared for her, because I always think about how things could have turned the right way. When I see a little girl talking to her mom in a public transport, I think about her. When I hear a baby’s cry, I think about her. When I see pictures of babies on “Am I Cute” page in Facebook, I think about her.  When I read the blog by Beth on http://putdowntheurinalcake.com, I think about her. Oh, how much I miss her and yet I cannot do anything. The least I can do is skype with her but she gets easily bored. Perhaps she doesn’t remember me at all now. And that is the punishment for me and I deserve it.  

But I am not a timid mother or woman, for that matter, to drown myself in sorrows and self-pity. I am an optimist and I always believed in silver lining in the dark clouds, the rescue by the charming prince, and in that sappy saying that the good thing about bad stuffs is that it comes to an end too.  I may have felt like punching myself for what I did, but I always end my day with a hope that  I can also be a better mother. I will just have to prove it to myself. 

Crazy Things During Exam Time

I have posted this question on my Facebook status: What is the craziest thing you do during your exam preparation time? Because I always have this weirdest ideas of having to do so many things on this particular period. I look forward to taking a break from the study time and spend time on those things. Things like I am doing it right now. Like blogging is more important than studying at this hour. Or things like watching Michele Phan's videos on makeup tutorials. For god sake, I don't even do make up. Or or watch the top 100 billboard from last week. Or watch news,  I hardly have time for that when I am free.

Lately I am obsessed with the itch to clean my house because suddenly it is screaming for my attention. Hopefully, this feeling wont go away once my exams are over. Excitedly waiting for the exams to be over. Believe it or not, I am still feeling like a high school girl only this time I have a god sent husband and a beautiful daughter by my side. Smile.
   

Introducing my Husband

Here I am going to write about my husband Sonam Tashi and his life before our marriage. Our life together is altogether another long story. I wanted to write this like an autobiography, but I will never be able to do justice to my husband and his life with my standard of English and my amateur writing skills. I am writing this so that when our daughter grows up and have her own kids; she will have so many stories to pass on to them about us.

Sonam Tashi is from Themnangbi, Mongar. His father was from Ngatsang, Mongar. His mother passed away when he was very little and his father passed away soon after we decided to live together. His mother died of blood cancer and his little brother was still breastfeeding her. I can totally relate to what was going through them after the demise of his mother because we lost our mother when we were little too and my little sister was just born. Anyway, his mother, Tashi Tshomo, was well known for her super-fast skills at doing works and everyone would wait for her to start the harvest because everyone believed that she brought good luck to the village. I always listen to my husband telling how she would weave a set of Gho for her brothers on the night before their departure to schools. She really was a super woman. And every time I listen to this story, I literally have to fight back my tears because I can feel so much pain in his eyes.  She suffered so much pain because of this treacherous disease. She could not recover even after she was refered to big hospitals in Kolkata. But every good person dies at young age because it is said that good people are needed in heaven by god <br>.

So, since his village was little far from the nearest school and there wasn’t any boarding or residential facility that time, he and his brothers (Darjay and Sheru, both younger to him) had to build a small hut near the school, known as Gorbaktang, to be able to study. The hut was built on the property of Meme Kabula. The man was kind indeed to have done such a favour. Sonam Tashi is still thankful for his kindness and last time when he met him, he didn’t have anything to offer him so he took off his Gho and presented him. Later I heard Meme Kabula fondly likes to talk about his act of kindness again and again.

Well, education wise, it was very difficult for them because they had to cook their meals using wet firewood and all of them were too young to take care of themselves. His grandmother, who he fondly calls Ama, had asked his paternal aunt to take care of them. Oh wait, they at first stayed with his aunt but later moved out because they felt it was better that way. So, I was saying it was very difficult for them to cook that sometimes they would eat half cooked rice so that they get to school on time. I am sure Sheru will have his own version of story and I am not sure if Darjay will remember anything. Once in a while, they would go to FCB and buy the cheapest rice and change their regular meal from Kharang to white rice. It was a luxury that they couldn’t afford every day. When they had enough ration, he would cook the lunch as well with breakfast but unfortunately hungry dogs would steal their precious lunch sometimes because it was easy for the dogs to break into their little home. He skipped lunch till he got admitted in Mongar high school in 2000.

Sometimes he would go home at Themnangbi to get ration after school and come back the morning to reach their little hut to be able to cook and serve to his brothers. And imagine with wet woods. I am starting to dislike Shing Yenglu. During the weekend, he would again go home to get ration but he would play and swim in Gangola River on the way and exhaust all his energy. When he reaches home, he would be very angry when there was no food in the kitchen. He recalls his stupidity because everyone at home to be at work. His meme likes to call him Uthuma because he would extend his arms and drag down the corn plants on his way out.

One day there was a football tournament and his captain wanted him to play no matter what. He insisted that he didn’t want to because he didn’t have shorts to wear for the match and obviously he didn’t tell that to his captain. So, he had to buy a shorts and that was the first half pant cum underwear he ever wore and that became his favorites. I can see the warm smile when he recalls. So after he did his exams in eighth grade, he worked as a part time labour for road construction. I don’t remember the place. He kept on thinking how much they suffered while studying and decided to not continue his studies and rather run away with the Truck Driver as his helper after the road work was done. He and his team mates had to work under a scorching sun that it gave them intense sun burns which he fully recovered after two years. During meal time (thank god, meal was served), he would be the first to eat and he ate so fast that he could join the line again for his second share. He still finishes eating his meal so fast and when I asked him once about it, he told me this story.

His results were declared when he was still working at the road construction. He topped his batch from his school and it was such a proud moment for him that it gave him inspiration and motivation to study again. So that’s when and how he landed up in Mongar High School. School was fun then because the food provided was enough to fill him up and regular lunch was served. Before you start judging him, I must mention that his family were and is a well off at Themnangbi. It was at school that he and his brothers suffered because there was no transportation to transport the ration and whatever little they brought with them didn’t last much.  And no one needs to be told that money was a scarce during that time and I am sure it is still at some villages.

I will continue the story next time.

                                                                                                                                  

Scary Reality

Quite recently my housemate's nephew was lost in Damthang, Haa. He was just about 5 years and found to be nowhere when his mother came back from picking firewood. The father of the family works in the armed force and has to be away for his duty most of the time. It was quite strange of him to go anywhere since he was not a type of kid who would go out and play. After days of searching him, he was found dead near a small river. Surprisingly, the search group have been in that spot before. It was a pity that they didn't see him there before. 

I have heard of a vague stories of "Tromchoe" before but never ever have I imagined that it actually happened in reality. People are taken away without his or her own knowledge. Some are released after few days or weeks, but rarely survives. I get goosebumps even when i write it. I will narrate the stories told to me.

There was son who was very pampered by his parents because he was the only child in the family. He was loved dearly by his mother and father. When he graduated from RIHS as a health assistant, he was placed in Sakteng, a lovely place in East. Since it was his first placement of his work, his father accompanied him since there wasn't road during those days. While the father and son walked along the foot path, suddenly the son ran without saying anything. His father called him back but he sped fast and within few minutes the father lost the son. He was nowhere to be seen but little further the father saw only the clothes of the son. People searched for him for days and weeks but no one found him. When the parents sought help from the Oracle to predict what actually happened, they were said that the boy saw a bull chasing him and he had to run. 

Some people say they sometime see him in forest, all of his body covered with moss and he hides when he sees people. 

Isn't it strange and scary? This story is haunting me. What is this or who is this? A big question mark???

The Storm is finally coming to an End.

The worst days are coming to an end soon. The best thing about this storm is that we learnt how difficult it is to stay away from each other. Our love grew stronger and we knew that we can’t live without the presence of each other. There was never a day when I didn’t cry thinking about my family back at home. The simple thing in life brought tears in my eyes, the simple writings touched me and the quotes on life seem very true to our life. The lyrics of songs made more sense and feel that some of the songs are just made for us.  When I see so many people around me, I feel I am the unhappy one. I feel lonely most of the time having to wander alone amongst the midst of strangers. It is like a darkness has befallen on me. I wonder sometimes, is this some kind of hell? Because hell can be anywhere. I feel more sad when I think of death and the little time we have with us and we are already living apart. I don’t want our daughter to feel the absence of me or her father. I regret having induced such kind of situation in our life. But as days pass, I keep my fingers crossed and keep on counting days for my reunion with my family. 

Cultural Shock??

Source: google.com (can be seen in Melbourne)

Source: google.com (seen in Bhutan)

I really did get a cultural shock when I first came to Melbourne. Everything looked so different from what I have seen and been to. I have never been out of my home country for more than 3 weeks. 3 weeks is just enough to have explored new places, tried new things and just you are starting to miss your home, you are back in town. Departing to Melbourne has been toughest for me especially because this was my first separation after the birth of my beautiful daughter. Well, that is another long story altogether, perhaps one day I will post about my two years stay at home with my daughter.

Coming back to the point, back in home, I am so used to seeing elderly people chanting Baza guru near the Chorten that I really get surprised when I see people at similar age group going shopping and doing some transactions in the bank. I am not used to leaving a baby in a pram and not pay any attention even when she/he wails. I am not used to sitting across each other in a bus and pretend you don’t care about others. I am not used to people asking me ‘how are you?’ and not waiting for my response. Only later I realized that may be “how are you?” here means “hi”.

It really came as a shock to me when students don’t even care about the presence of the professor in the class. I mean how could they put their feet on the table in an ongoing class? I would not see such behavior back in my home even in our private places. While it was very interesting for me to experience the diversity in the culture and social, it made me appreciate the values that I am being brought up with. I am glad I am from a country where we show respect through our gesture because I feel that only when we feel it in our heart that we will be able to express it. I don’t know if my professor care about it at all but I make an gesture to show my respect to them though it may look ridiculously funny to people who are not used to seeing such rare thing. But this is the person I am molded into and old habit die hard.

(All mentioned above my personal views and thoughts)

Painful Days

Courtesy: Buddhism - Being Truly Human, FB

I was on my way back to my place from the University when I saw this picture and it instantly engulf me with tears. Only a mother could endure such pain to love and feed her child. And here I am on  the luxury of studying, leaving my only child behind with her father and make them endure the pain of separation. I could have chosen to stay with my family and somebody would have easily taken the responsibility of filling the gap by studying what I am studying now and contribute to nation. Everyone says, time heels everything but no, it is making it worst. As my child grows up, I am not there to let her hold my finger. When she speaks her first few words, I am not there to cry with joy with my husband. When she first started to pretend play, I am not there to be her playmate. I am missing out on so many precious moments that I will never encounter in my entire life. My girl will never be the same little girl again and I will never have the memories of her first steps towards growing up and I will never be able to forgive myself for doing that to my family.  

I Hate Goodbyes

My housemate’s friends came over to Melbourne for a short vacation and stayed over at our place for couple of days. I could see the fun of reunion after seven years but I could hardly spend time with them as I had my own commitments towards study. But during their last stay I managed to sit with them and share what not things about life.  

Today we went to see them off to airport and I could hardly hold back my tears as the memories of leaving my family behind flashed back. When we saw the airport we wished if we were going back home to our loved ones and bid farewell to Melbourne goodbye forever. Goodbyes are always painful and probably it is one of the hardest thing I have ever known in my life. Even though I know that we have to leave behind everything and everyone behind, it makes me sad to see someone leave. I just hate goodbyes.

The Pain of Separation

Sometimes we make mistakes and sometimes we make terrible, horrible, and unforgiving mistakes. And whoever said that we don’t know what we have until it is gone is damn crazy right. I am believed to be a strong person and I try to believe it but when it comes to my family, I am on my knees. As a mother, I couldn’t forgive myself for leaving my baby at such a tender age when she needs me the most and as a responsible wife I am to support my hubs when he needs help.

My heart broke into million pieces to leave them and I could hardly see anything. I didn’t care about no one and I couldn’t stop my tears for hours. No appetite, no sleep, there was no charm in doing anything and I felt like I was lost in the big jungle. First day was worst, my baby cried so much the moment we started to Skype. I can’t imagine how much questions we have put in to our little daughter’s head.

My hubs and I concluded that it is some kind of karmic effect that we are all suffering from this separation. I cried when my hubs said “I don’t know how long we are going to live and we are living separately already.” I just hope this will end soon and see better days soon. 

(saying goodbye is the most painful moment I have ever experienced in my life: My little darling during our days together in Bangkok)

Heart Wrenching Pains

There are moments in life, when you cannot simply explain how you are feeling because it is just too heart wrenching. I have come across this moment when Sonam Tashi’s nephew Thinley Chojur passed away at 2 months. He suffered acute heart failure. I can’t imagine the pain being endured by him alone. His mother and we talked about him being spoilt when he cried when actually he was suffering so much with pain.

Sonam Tashi’s elder sister was with us for couple of days. She came along with her youngest son for her treatment. She complained of burning skins like being bitten by nettles. We did Rimdros, took her for Zhabthrue for her recovery.  Wednesday was holiday (Daisain) and I was at home watching Pem Zangmo, my cousin bathe the baby. I noticed baby was suffering from breathlessness. I suspected Pneumonia but he didn’t have cough and cold and when I put my ear close to his back, his breathes were not hoarse. We decided to take him to pediatrician the next day.

We went to Doc. Phillips for the checkups. We were asked to do chest x ray of Thinley. Doc. Phillips advised to urgently admit him to the ward after looking at his x-ray result. Before we could reach the ward, he went blue. I was scared to death, my heart was pounding so fast and I couldn’t stop saying “aiee”. Once we were in the ward, the nurse gave the oxygen supplement to him which made him recover from going blue. The nurse drew blood from such tiny hand and he started crying more. He was breathing so hard. The nurse mentioned that he being heart patient, he will go blue every time he cries hard. I briefly looked at Doctors prescription and saw, engrossed heart, unstable pulse, breathlessness- all symptoms of heart failure.

He kept on crying and he was immediately admitted to PICU. Only on attendant was allowed inside. My sister in law who couldn’t stop crying and I, helplessly waited outside praying hard for the pain to subside. Finally, I called Sonam Tashi to come and just be near his sister. We went home since it was useless standing outside. We informed Ata Tsewang Dorji, Thinley’s Father that he can call us if emergency things happens.

We went to bed with the hope that everything will be fine. I consoled the mother saying that there are many heart patients who has recovered. However, we received the call from hospital that the case has become worst and the baby is suffering seriously. Sonam Tashi and his sister went to hospital and I stayed back with Zamin praying.

Sonam Tashi called me to inform that Thinley is no more with us. I made preparation at home for the rituals. Later I learnt from Sonam that Thinley suffered so much pain. I cried at the pain he had to endure at such a tender age. I really can’t explain how much overwhelmed I was. Think about his mother. 

Letter from my Brother

I was tremendously feeling low and wrote a long mail to my little brother. This is the response I got from him which made me more proud than I ever was.

hi Ana,

I can understand what you all are going through and we should know that in life things doesn't go the way we want it to be, yet we got to hold on to it and have patients. I also know that people come and go in your small sweet home but you should be proud and have pride that you are able to help them. Being a wife to Sonam Tashi you too have the duty and responsibilities for his family too. Just don't loss your head and be strong dear. i know that you have greater burden to carry for us, here i will study hard and hopefully i hope that one day i will be able to ease your burden and relive you with some of the responsibilities. Apart from all other things i do here i always have my primary responsibilities in my mind.

Things are tough right now dear, things will get well sooner or later. From here i wish that i could do better things than feeling helpless but i can't, but some day i hope i will be able to make you proud. 

For now have faith, trust your husband and be a good helping hand for him. I know that you are doing it already, still than don't let all those thoughts hunt you, don't let your heart to be heavy, and don't let yourself feel low. chin up, smile always and be happy. Know that we are proud of you. You have been the mother to us and I LOVE YOU. 

Till than take care and keep smiling and don't let things like that affect your mood and ya don't think too much nadu mo. See Ya soon and missing you all. 

with lots love

Tshering Dorji.  

Struggling to be Positive, Daily.

Sonam Tashi complained, one night, that I am becoming negative. I took his comment very negatively and snapped back by telling him that he has become judgmental. But his feedback took me hours to go to sleep, reflecting when and how I picked up this habit. It is easier to be negative and never know that it is part of your life but the task is Hercules, when it comes to train yourself to look for positive aspects of life. Negative is contagious as mentioned in the article “6 ways to be positive in any situation – www.thinksimplenow.com”

Being positive is the choice we can make. Last night, I completely drowned myself to self pity because I was not feeling well and Sonam Tashi didn’t even care. I came to office without speaking a word to him. And to make the matter worse, he left to his site without dropping me off to work. I was so pissed that I sworn I will make him regret. But meanwhile, I was making it hard on myself, feeling sad, feeling unhappy and feeling so remorseful looking at myself. Why am I doing it when Sonam Tashi doesn’t have a clue on what is running in my mind? Why am I being so ridiculous, when I can make things better for myself and for everyone?

I changed my prospective then. I choose to take away that negativity from my mind because who knows how long I am to live. I might die tomorrow without apologizing to the people I love and care. I thought I am not going to let negativity rule my life. I went home feeling very light hearted and happy. Try it yourself, it works wonder.

Making it better, everyday

“So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me... everyday.” 
― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

courtsey: www.cherrybam.com

I never thought Nicholas Sparks is so right until I entered in to relationship of girlfriend-boyfriend with Sonam Tashi. It was very hard from the beginning when he decided alone that he doesn’t want to be in relationship anymore with me. I still wonder to this day why he changed his mind like a pendulum from one swing to another. Perhaps it was love, because after knowing that he wanted to dump me, I was and am with him to this day.

It is hard to think straight when we are mad with our better half. All we want to do is shout our lungs outs but with soft voices so that the people sitting in the living room doesn’t have a clue about what is going on. The good trait of my husband is that he doesn’t want to argue but wants his way. The big “but” messes up everything. And there are times when I get on his nerves and make him go crazy (compelling him to go for a walk). The silent walk out from the living room is that proof that he is mad with me. But like Nicholas Sparks states and like any other successful relationships, we are going to have to work at our relationship everyday and nurture it like a new born baby. Because all that matters, at the end of the day, is that we love each other, everyday and forever. 

My Twenty Eighth Birthday

As usual Bank of Bhutan was first to wish me on my birthday, followed by RICBL. Thanks to my insurance policy and my bank account, they know my birthday. My husband, Sonam Tashi, come from very conventional Bhutanese family and hence he doesn’t have a habit of openly expressing his feelings. Though I have been friends with him for more than eight years now, I realized that only when I married him because by then my expectations over him had increased and I felt the gaps. Not to worry, my expectations have subsided now. I have learnt one thing from this relationship that if the other person can’t change, then it is best to change ourselves. Well, I have adapted well to the situation because it was absolutely normal when my husband didn’t even wish me on my birthday. Ok, to be honest, I was little sad because the very person who admits loves me doesn’t care to see me smile (a small gift would have curved my lips).

Our nanny, Maya, remembered my birthday and forced Sonam Tashi to serve me a breakfast himself (which is rare of course). He loudly announced that the breakfast is for my birthday and my birthday celebration ended there.

Not a great day to remember. :(

Already 28

I am turning 28 tomorrow and I am sad than being happy. Probably because no one is throwing me a party or I haven’t planned anything to celebrate it. Let me admit it, I am broke to buy myself a birthday cake forget about throwing a party. Seriously, where is all the money going away? Anyway that would be another long story to discuss. May be one day I will make a list of what is happening to my income.

Coming back to my birthday, I didn’t celebrate my birthday until I was in high school where my friends forced me to treat them. Specifically high schools because I studied my primary and junior high in remote places and nobody care how old someone is growing.  I got transferred to Thimphu (then used to be such a big city for a town mouse like me). I made new friends who used to celebrate their birthdays since they were born. I never knew they were rich when I became friends with them and they found out later that I was poorer to afford any birthday party. But my generous father used to think I might be left out and made every effort to send some bucks before my birthday so that I can at least treat my friends with “cheese momo” from the school canteen. I think my friends were kind enough to bear the ‘lesser cheese and more cabbage momo’.

Wishing before blowing off my first ever birthday candles

The birthdays in college became better. My friends would surprise me with birthday cake. (I cut my first birthday cake in 2005) but my months pocket money would dwindle in a single treat. But I loved being broke after celebrating my birthday.

After I started working and when I was single, my close friends-Tandin, Nisha and Kinley would always make plans (irrespective of whether I agree or not) and I had to treat them. We used to have great moments together, laughing, taking pictures. Once, they presented me with marble cake at Buddha point. It was raining and I cut my cake in Tandin’s car with my bare hand. The marble cake was difficult to swallow without the water and I drank spy wine to drain it down my throat (because there was no water). I remember treating them with Beef Burger from Zone because that time it was very popular. I love you guys for all the greatest moments in my life. By the way, they are the same friends from high school. They are crazy but I love them anyway.

Now I am married with a daughter. This is my second birthday with my husband. The first time he was in Kolkata and I couldn’t celebrate it with him. My friends came to see me at my place because I was eight months pregnant.

Tomorrow is my first birthday with my family and I am still wondering how I am going to celebrate it. 

Zamin with her New Hat.

Zamin with her new hat. She doesn't like the hat but she gets easily distracted when she see things like camera. Ha-ha

Project Crochet

Zamin with her Nanny Maya 

Since the winter is on its way to Bhutan, I have started thinking about warm hats, socks and neck warmers. I am always surprised at how much it cost at markets to buy the same thing which we can actually make it at home and make it far better. The first project was my little darling girl’s hat with cute ear flap but unfortunately I have chosen the wrong yarn and she hates it. The picture says it all. She doesn’t like the sight of it. So, I will choose a softer yarn next time and have it made for her. It has a mix design of single crochet and double crochet. Ana Lungten was at my place when I started it and she thought single crochet would take time. So, I started with single crochet and finished it with double. The hat in the picture looks bit twisted because Zamin wouldn’t allow us to put it on her. We didn’t have time to adjust the hat when I took this picture. I finished another ear flapped hat for Sonam Tashi’s Grandmom and she absolutely loved the design and the softness of the yarn. I didn’t take picture of the hat since I handed it over to her the moment I finished it. I am planning on making the same coloured hat for the family once I get time to get to town and bring the bestest yarn. Wait till I post it here. 

Appreciation

Being Buddhist helps me a lot in keeping alive my relationship with people, especially with my husband, Sonam Tashi. I know we expect a lot from our better halves on what-not-things and we easily get hurt if it isn’t the way we want. Speaking from women’s point of view (I think I better understand my own gender better), we expect our man to be our hero. We expect Him to help us in kitchen, cook during Losar (“losar is the new year celebration in Bhutan), and take care of kids while we have girl’s night out. We expect our man to totally spoil us if not anything. On the other hand, men (not all men are same though) expect his better half to cook, do the laundry and look beautiful (well, that’s what I think, at least). However, looking carefully, that is where all the problems start because it is not happening as we thought or the way wanted. And there is where the differences starts and we don’t want to understand what he/she thinks or wants because “I” am always right.

To look at it differently, we don’t appreciate how much he/she is doing for us apart from worrying about all other little things. Though I don’t speak out much, my husband is one person who deserves appreciation for the entire thing he does. He is cute in his own little handsome way. There are times when we have our bad days but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect him for the person he is. He is and will be my best friend.

Being happy does not mean you have to have and own everything. Though Sonam earns a lot (in Bhutanese context), there are times when we hardly go out for dinner or movie or pamper ourselves with unwanted cloths and stuffs. And we laugh at our poorness. But that does not limit my dear husband to make huge donations and that is where all our income goes. Sometimes, our source of income is booked in advance as to which loop-hole it has to be take care of.

He is a kind of man I have always wanted to spend my entire life with. Giving away in cash and kinds is his hobby (well, that’s what I think). His wardrobe is almost empty because of his kindness and because we couldn’t afford to go for shopping. But that does not mean we haven’t been paying taxes, rents and our relatives the pocket money. It simply means we are happy the way we are.

Something that I learnt about Baby

Most people scoff at me when I say you shouldn’t feed your baby with those and that type of food. Many Bhutanese don’t care about what their babies eat. Well, I can understand the mothers at village, they either have don’t have time to look for what is healthy for their baby or to cook it separately and most of them, they think it is ok to give whatever the adult eats.

Back in olden days, in Bhutan, baby is fed with butter on the day he/she is born, bathed three times a day and fed with whatever is edible. The motherless babies are fed with dairy product.

I don’t think it is necessary to be conventional in bringing up your own baby. Hence, taking advantage of my education and of being literate, I first do little research on what are the good things that are healthy and best for my baby. The first thing first, I bathed my baby only after a week from the day she is born and only once a day. I used to bathe her every two-three days and I would wait at least a week for her next bathe when she is sick or the worst, suffering from cold. That being said, I used to massage her everyday with Olive oil (with mustard oil while she has cold) and change her every day. The reason I use Olive oil is because it is thick and creamy, ideal to be used as massage oil. Of course it has its own benefits. That kept her clean and healthy.

While she is down with cold, I used to dip a clove of garlic in the mustard oil and massage her with it. Gently tapping, raindrop massage, on her cheeks which makes way for the mucus. I used to firmly massage her chest, feet and palm with warm mustard oil which super relaxes her. When I once suggested to this to my husband’s uncle (since he has baby little older than mine), he scolded me saying “Roktey ana ani nan bu aiee lay…” and sadly his son has watery eyes.

The second thing, which most Bhutanese dread, is the thought of using the disposable diapers. They think if they use it, it will bent the baby’s leg which I think is absolutely non-sense. I used it while she was five days young and she still has straight leg. (:D). But I have stopped using the disposable because it takes 500 years to decompose. It makes me feel very guilty when I use it sometimes.

I breastfed her exclusively for six months, which most working Bhutanese mothers doesn’t do. Thankfully, I have a boss who has a baby and she completely understands me.

The next big thing after six months is what to feed to the baby. The people in developed countries serve baby cereal. Poorly, we don’t get baby cereal in our country and most mothers land up serving their baby with “Yoechum”, the local rice which has more starch than the normal rice that are easily available in market. The local rice gives constipation to the adults, so think about baby’s condition. The common ingredients to the baby’s food are butter and salt (people say it to make it tastier).  Think about the size of the baby’s kidney. Think about all the process it has to undergo to remove the salt from their tiny body. My baby’s food contain only cereal, vegetable or fruits and still she eats deliciously because she don’t know the taste of salt and butter.

My baby has a sore throat and a rough cough these days. My colleagues suggest that I should feed her honey. Most Bhutanese don’t understand the potential fatal disease that can be caused due to honey. Botulism is rare but very life threatening illness.

Well, how we bring up our baby is our own style but I think it is necessary to know what we think healthy could prove to be danger to the baby.