Bhutan, globally
branded as the Last Shangri-La is certainly losing
some glamour to be the last haven on earth.
The tiny Buddhist
kingdom that was totally isolated from the rest of the world until the 1970s – not
due to its rugged mountainous terrain or thick vegetation – but secluded calculatedly
by the reigning Monarchs of the Wangchuck Dynasty to defend its sovereignty, is
witnessing a sea of change over a wee epoch of time, particularly Thimphu, the
Capital city of Bhutan.
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| Thimphu City at night. Picture courtesy: Click LINK |
As many won’t deny, no
slice of the earth in Thimphu is excused from the blades of booming constructions of
varying sizes and shapes, strangulating the green and serene Bhutanese niche. No
section of street is exempted from a convoy of ceaseless automobiles of various
brands and marque, prostituting the otherwise halcyon night and untainted
oxygen. And more eccentrically, no dusk
is spared from the footsteps of bellicose adolescent gangs of diverse colours
and pigments which arithmetically outnumbers the pacific street canines, converging
for different engagements at these odd hours and incommoding the ritualistic evening
walk-goers.
Thimphuians are certainly
immune and resistant to such strange pooling of youths in the town at night I
observed.
That late night as I
was waiting in the parking lot for my friend who was in the night duty shift, a
maroon Hilux rested its wheels beside my car. An earsplitting voice by the
passengers inside followed with a thunderous applaud, supposedly indicating a
triumph over a safe arrival or succeeding something. On seeing them in a squad,
my timid mind which was already enduring the fever of dread and angst hearing
the recent stab case due to a violent youth clash, further turned pale and cold.
My posture had involuntarily shrunk to an inch size C-shape. Within a short
while, I heard two loud successive smacks on my car, which further aggravated
me to tremble in fear and hum the prayers even more in a fast-forward mode.
But it didn't last long.
As the volume of the howl by these scoundrels lowered, I gradually raised my
head, only to observe 6 inebriated teens in proportionate gender equality, heading
towards the town by supporting each other’s shoulders.
Although that hell-like
moment in heaven Thimphu was brief by time, it has generated a lasting scar
of shockwave in my mind. I immediately quitted the place and drove towards the
well-lit part of the town, and inspected my car. It was sustained with some
bruises, possibly due to a forceful door opening after they narrowly parked beside
my car.
Since I valued my life
more than those material properties, I thanked the Almighty for extending my
dateline to register in the death logbook. Had I reacted to them instantly for
hitting my car, my name might have probably appeared in the “Headlines” of the
national television or might have reserved the front pages of our newspaper or
social media to earn some “Rest In Peace” comments or occupy some obituary column.
So after giving a huge
sigh of relief, I murmured, these days our people don’t need a reason to get enraged,
pick up a fight, or stab each other.
Being an educator by
profession, witnessing a wide spectrum of wild behaviours by our very own domestic
kids nowadays, makes me wonder: Where are our youths heading to? What are our
dear parents doing and why are our parents not able to smell the whereabouts of
OUR own kids? And of course, what lucrative
business does our society run at that very late night?
While hearing the
gamut of such juvenile delinquencies is one, experiencing, in reality, is
another. The latter engulfs with the hell lot fear that even if one has some
genuine reasons to travel at night, one is obliged to forbid, experiencing some
bitter taste of a living hell in this Last Shangri La.
“We can change the world and make it a better place. It
is in your hands to make a difference” – Nelson Mandela
