How would you define “PEACE” in your own vocabulary of understanding? Should I face the gun of this question, I am prepared to define it under the lens of my own microscopic evaluation.
Peace is just a relative term. As in Einstein’s Theory of relativity, where energy and mass are equivalent and transmutable, peace is yet another commodity that can fit in any shape and sizes. It possesses a gaseous property that it can take the shape of any container of explanation.
So categorically speaking, there is no wrong to assume that every tongue in this globe can have its own muscle to describe peace. And to witness an assorted colour of definition from different countries would be neither a strange story.
However, of all the ways to dissect the meaning of PEACE, I would still prefer our own way of explaining it. The Bhutanese peace is absolutely synonymical to what Walt Whitman has asserted in his classical poem, The Sleepers: “Peace is always beautiful”.
The peace rubber stamp
The Bhutanese peace is always beautiful. It means freedom from wars and riots, revolts and rebellion. Our peace is immune to societal turbulence and turmoil, civic unrest and uprisings.
Having said this, it necessarily doesn't connote that our understanding of peace is a unique masterpiece. Neither does it mean that other countries do not qualify to describe it.
The current political insurrection in Bangkok according to the protesters is refereed as peaceful. But the term peaceful is hitting the keyboard of weaponry and few have even lost their lives amidst the clashes. The giant shopping malls are closed, the traffic’s sealed and regular footprints of the visitors to the city have drastically dropped in numbers. The usual fire fighter and the police ambulance siren which nobody gave much heed before has now been allergic to the ears on the streets. Moving outside with a dress having colours of one party or the other is one thing we have to watch out before leaving the room.
The most unfortunate part of our share is missing the classes because the universities are closed on the ground of safety. Although there is no trace of protest in our area currently, but still heading to the university has been like entering a crocodile zoo. Sometimes, when the situation arises to move out into the streets, I can feel the secretion of adrenaline in my body exceeding beyond measure.
At such circumstances, it suffocates to live here and wish to run back to my home country. It reminds me of Oliver Goldsmith’s East, West, Home’s Best from his patriotic poem, “The Traveller”.
Thus in all, one thing is certain and that is Bhutan will always remain a Home Sweet Home for me.
"Peace cannot be achieved through violence, it can only be attained through understanding” – Ralph Waldo Emerson