Thursday, April 8, 2021

Published April 08, 2021 by with 0 comment

WHEN A POET IS ASKED IF HE IS A HAPPY BHUTANESE


It is huge question. We must be able to relate why we are happier than many, why we have to be proud as Bhutanese.
"Are you happy with your life as a Bhutanese?" A blatant question was thrown in after I shared something on philosophy of GNH to a Sri Lankan novelist. We were in a bus en route to our hotels at Delhi. It was October 2017 during a Literary Festival at Delhi.
Suddenly I was on the brink of deciding if I was unhappy at work or at home. Indecisive and slightly caught off guard, I paused; inhaling a gulp of polluted Delhi air.
"You mean am I happy?" I repeated a reversal, more as a measure to cuff in seconds for introspection than understanding of the question.
Then, like struck by blazing comet in the recess of my mind's expanse, answer escaped my lips. I felt a deep sense of justice in my extrapolation.
"Happiness is feeling sense of security, fearlessness and freedom wherever you stay. It is in everyone's conscience. Peace is almost a prevalent natural wealth, happiness and a visible aura on every Bhutanese people."
The novelist gazed at me with longing eyes. A question with a smear of doubt came, "But are you happy?"
My comet blazed with poetic pride.
"When I can walk the streets without fear,
when I can laugh with strangers without restraint,
when visiting hospitals and temples is without sectarian doubts, when I can sleep in the corridors like home,
when the only gunshots are monsoon thunder,
when explosions are a churning butter tea,
when ailing cries' find a lap on every neighbour,
when smile on the street is innate,
when tomorrow is a reality from the golden throne,
when democracy is a gift not a swag,
and when my unhappiness is only a question
why rest of the human beings are deprived the richness
Of happiness I own by fortune,
how can I not be a happy Bhutanese."
The answer I heard was, "You are so lucky to be born in Bhutan. I want to travel there one day." I welcomed with pride, and sat back as the bus we were travelling revved to a definite halt, fallen in love again to the land I belong to.

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