




Nine years back on this fateful evening (it was morning in New York) I was in Bangkok waiting for a connecting flight to Amsterdam. The flight from Paro to Bangkok was so early in the morning that I didn't have enough sleep the night before. So I was feeling drowsy and lethargic as evening came and I patiently waited for my midnight flight.
My physical conditions were further aggravated by the long and tiring wait in the uneventful Don Muang Airport. The only thing that kept my eyes open was the CNN news where I was lazily checking the weather and the temperature in Amsterdam to make sure I had packed the right set of clothing.
Then suddenly the “Breaking News” banner started flashing on the TV and I saw a tower burning and people running. My immediate reaction was, “When did CNN started advertising movies?” I thought it was the trailer from the "Siege" with Denzel Washington. Then an aircraft appeared on the screen and hit the second tower. The newscaster screamed to tears, which woke me up completely. More people started crowding around me, all facing the TV. Someone shouted, “Oh! My God. I can’t believe it!” I was stunned. “Is this happening just now?” I asked innocently. “Yes, that’s New York!” Suddenly all my fatigues disappeared and I stood there – almost frozen to death.
I couldn’t even blink my eyes with the horror unfurling in front of us. So much so that only a loud and continuos thumping noise took my head away from the TV screen. To my right I saw the Thai anti-terrorist squad heading for the boarding gates. An announcement came in. “There will be slight delays in all the outgoing flight". That frightened me. Moments later they announced my flight and we were to proceed for security checks. I was still confused as I headed for my boarding gate. There was a long line of travellers getting checked one by one. Besides the usual Thai ground staff, there were armed policeman in full battle gear scanning the place. The sight frightened me even more.
The queue was unusually slow and as I snailed towards the counter trailing an old European lady I started wondering if I should even go to Amsterdam. I could cancel my flight and my trip. Stay for few days in Bangkok and return home. When you are about to board an aircraft the last thing you want to see is a plane crashing into a building and killing thousands for real.
I was lost in all those strange thoughts when a voice called me, “boarding pass and passport, please”. The counter girl, probably in her thirties, smiled at me. I handed them over still unsure if I should go. “Thank you and have a nice flight,” she told me as she handed them back. “You must be kidding,” I thought as I walked away looking for an empty seat.
But as I settled down between two Dutch guys with my eyes scanning the place for any suspicious characters, I started asking myself, “What am I scared of, actually? Dying? But if my time has come I would die anywhere. One day I would die for sure.” That's when my Buddhist upbringing and being Buddhist came handy. No one can escape one's fate or cheat death. If your time is up, it’s up. Whether you are in the Land of Smile or in the Thunder Dragon Kingdom or among the tulips. You will be making your appointment with the Lord of Death anyway. So might as well do that seeping champagne, 30,000 feet above the Earth, seated in the business class with beautiful Taiwanese hostesses serving you.
I boarded the Eva Airways flight bound for Amsterdam.

Bhutan Today’s detailed account of Ugyen Dorji, 18, who risked his life to save another boy from being swallowed by Thimphu River, really touched me. Pity that other Bhutanese media did not celebrate his heroic deeds. As much as nothing substantive was done on the people who received the National Order of Merit last year or on the medallists from the last South Asian Games. This is what I meant in my earlier blog that “we rarely celebrate our own heroes.”Talking about heroes and role models, someone asked me if there was anybody who is really inspiring. Without a second thought my answer was yes! Besides our Kings, there are many ordinary people whose lives and stories of daily hardships and survival, of hard work and dedication and of sense of duty and altruism are just as inspiring as the leadership and achievements of successful people we hear or see.
Years back, on a trip to Gasa, I heard of an extraordinary story of a schoolteacher who risked his life to trek for days to get to Lunana. Subsequently I made a documentary on him - a modest homage to thousands of teachers who are posted in far-flung areas doing their job of preparing the future citizens of our country. Aren’t they heroes?
How about that postman from Lingzhi, Ugen Tenzin, who for over 30 years carried mailbags between Lingzhi and Thimphu – at times carrying just one letter. Once he was even swept away by the icy Thimphu River. He lost all his belonging and nearly his life too, but not the postal bag which he didn't let go. The bag contained just four letters – one a ‘return to the sender’.
When I was a student travelling was no fun. Once it took me 13 days to reach Tashigang from Phuntsholing. Such stories are rare today. Thousands of National Work Force workers and engineers live on the road to keep the way clear for us to drive our Marutis and Land Cruisers through. Let alone acknowledge them, we can't wait a minute for a slide to open.
Lest we forget, our soldiers who died defending our country while thousands others who survived are living in the cold icy mountains and mosquito-ridden foothills to secure our borders.
In a collective journey we call nation building, the lives and works of thousands of such people, and even that of a farmer toiling to feed a large family or business people struggling to pay their employees on time, form the backbone of our country. There is no dearth of heroes and role models. It is our national obsession for gossiping that skews them - made worse by our inflated ego, greed and indifference. To be a hero you need not necessarily win a Nobel Prize or possess supernatural powers. You could do by jumping into a river to save someone whose existence you never knew before that very moment or by risking your life to deliver just one letter. Or simply by making a small difference in someone's life.

In his book Rich Dad Poor Dad, Robert Kiyosaki recollects of how growing up as a child his rich dad would never say no to whatever he asked. His rich dad would be like, “umm… Let’s see how we can afford it”. While his poor dad would slam his request with “We can’t afford that.” Kiyosaki argues that the we-can’t-afford-that statement not only closes the chapter altogether but it also shuts off your mind and creativity. On the other hand, the how-can-we-afford-it swings open the brain in search of infinite ways, means and possibilities. That’s why the rich gets richer and the poor gets poorer - or remains poor.
These days many young people come out with new ideas to keep up with the increased competition in life. Business ideas in the private sector, story ideas for books and films, project ideas to create jobs and employment, activity ideas to keep the youth away from drugs and violence. Yet our immediate reaction is rarely How can I help? But rather,Won’t there be any problem? With such an attitude, of course, negativity sets in. We are looking for faults. And in the process we find many. We find that rigsar dances are bad to our culture. Never mind that our children are hooked to anything Korean anyway. Public concerts and open-air festivals cannot be approved in the name of security. Who cares that lack of entertainment is actually manifesting as other social ills like gambling, drug-abuse, street violence and alcoholism. Business ideas are shot down because of municipal rules, lack of capitals or the required collaterals. We don’t explore ways and means to get the proposals through. We are happy to reject them so that we make fewer mistakes and more promotions would follow.
As a young upstart, I really don’t remember how many times I was turned down. "Lack of resources" was a favorite line in those meetings. But that was few decades back. It is ironic that we continue to hear those same lines. True we have not become richer but we could have changed our attitude towards our youth given what they are going through. For me it used to be such a cruel remark that closed all possibilities for further discussion and put an end to my motivations and creativity.
Surfing through online forums these days makes me feel if we are not falling into a national pessimism trap. There seems to be so much negative energy among the "educated" lot. We are blind to what is going right. We only keep nagging on where it is going wrong. We don’t encourage best practices. We are rather happy to go on a witch hunt. We rarely celebrate the good deeds or our local heroes. Rather we simply bad mouth just everyone.
If you walk into any public office, or even a commercial joint, you are rarely greeted with, “Can I help you?” Few months back I read about a group of youth in Paro starting a signature campaign to get a basketball court. I am curious as to how many people asked, “How can I help to give these kids a basketball court?” And if at all they got a basketball court.

The incident involving a parliamentarian struck by an arrow has sparked an intense debate on the need for, or on the lack of, safety standards or regulations in our national sports. It is indeed a good debate but something that we could have prevented. Meaning, the issue was raised over and over again in the past and had we heeded to those voices, we won’t be discussing this issue today. But like every public issue, we are only responding to an aftermath of an event or a crisis. But what’s wrong with our favourite past time? Actually nothing. What is really not okay is everything surrounding the game itself - our refusal to alter a culture that has become a habit, which now suits us in many ways.
True, archery is not just a sport. It is a great socializing exercise. In the past, villages organised annual archery matches to patch up their differences or settle their disputes. No matter who won, the result was accepted, some ara shared and everyone went home happy and little tipsy. The game has certainly evolved - but not for better. It has now become great lobbying operation. Suppliers and contractors organise archery matches to keep work orders and bills flowing fluidly. Subordinates take bank loans to be able to play with their bosses and keep their careers going. Only few are there genuinely for the game.
Ours is also the only national sports in the world where drinking is tolerated. You could also be forgiven from staying away from your office duties for weeks. I remember once going for a signature at the archery ground because the inter-ministry tournament was going on. The civil "servant" grudgingly signed the paper only because I was a journalist. Had I been an ordinary being I am sure I would have been rebuked. These are things we can’t be really proud of. Why can’t the BAF matches be held on weekends like the European football leagues?
In the name of preserving our culture thousands of people live with a constant fear of being hit by stray arrows. In the past year, more people have died from arrow injuries than HIV-AIDS. A life of an innocent child has been forever ruined. We are quick to badmouth any minor wrongdoings but a death at an archery range does not even attract a proper investigation. If it is really the culture we are trying to preserve, we should then revert back to bamboo products. Importing American bows meant to hunt bears may be okay but then the equipment should be used in safer grounds - not in populated urban areas. In Europe, one needs a firearm license to own such equipment. But in Paro, some villagers disown their ancestral land in exchange for the latest Hoyt model. Even in Thailand, golf centres are required to put up wire mesh as high as 300 feet. Here we even don’t have a system of certifying archery ranges. The outflow of foreign exchange is perhaps not even an issue.
How do we reconcile all these? Just asking. Not questioning the essence of our national sport.