We reached there at 6.20 am, a time I thought was early. But
I began to realize as I was driving northbound towards Dechencholing from
Thimphu, that a steady stream of cars were in front of me headed the same way.
I told my wife that perhaps we were not as early as we thought we were, and
that there may be already a long queue to greet us at Pangrizampa Lhakhang.
My suspicion was 100% confirmed as I drove up the gentle
slope from Dechencholing bridge, passed by the RBG gate to the left, and neared
the bifurcation ahead of Pangrizampa. From afar, we could already make a long
line of cars parked on either side of the road. Thankfully, the road on this
stretch is wide and even has a two double lane running side by side. We decided
to park at the first available slot, because there is no point in driving
further up, and not finding a place.
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| Devotees in queue |
With the thought of beating the oncoming cars with their
load of devotees to the queue, we quickly purchased a small bag of Tshog
(offerings), a packet of dalda (solidified vegetable oil for
lamps) and Poey (local incense sticks), and walked briskly towards the
Lhakhang gate. The air was cold & crispy. Our fast breaths condensed into
small whitish puffs in the morning chill. We were relieved to see that the line
of people were just at the entrance of the Lhakhang (Monastery) gate. The year
before, we were obviously late, and we had to join the queue at the main road
junction, which bifurcates into the main one going left towards Dechenphu and
the right narrower one going to Kabesa. That time, we had taken in excess of 3
hours to reach the main altar.
With a sense of relief, we joined the line of devotees, and
were thankful that the line seemed to be inching forward steadily. We also
noticed that a steady stream of people were coming out of the road on the other
side of the Monastery, which signaled that the police handlers inside were
doing their job well, of keeping the flow of people moving quickly.
As I scanned the line of devotees, I realized that except
for a few familiar faces here & there, I didn’t seem to recognize most of
the people. This made me realize again that Thimphu has changed over the years.
There was a time when I would know every second person in Thimphu, knowing them
either from school, college, office, partner agencies, local pubs or informal
gatherings. Indeed Thimphu has evolved into a metropolis and the city was a big
gathering of strangers.
In the queue, I could see that entire families had come to
offer their prayers. There were grandparents holding the hands of their
grandchildren, fathers shoulder-carrying their toddlers, mothers with babies
strapped to their backs in colorful rachus (scarves), and many children
dressed in various types of clothes of various hues. Most of the devotees were
clutching their tshog and some had
big packets of duna (mixed cereal grains). Most children were clutching wads of
small currency notes, to offer in front of the many altars, statues and other
religious icons and idols.
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| The Lamas at Pangrizampa |
We often need to remind ourselves about our civic sense and
need for a social discipline. For example, Bhutanese find it extremely
difficult to stay in queue. I think jumping queue and gaining straight access to
the main event, fuels the ego and people get the feeling that they are more important
than their fellow beings waiting in line. I have observed people using various
ways to jump queue – some rush ahead with an important look as if he is the
main Lama and needs to reach the courtyard within the next 30 seconds. A family
of 6 decided not to join the queue. The father figure spoke on his cell phone
and proceeded straight to the entrance as if they were summoned inside by the Je
Khenpo (Chief Abbot of Bhutan) himself. A sly looking Gomchen (lay monk) used the excuse
of his shabby red kabney (scarf) to negotiate with the police and gained quick entry.
All this while the people waiting in line since hours before, with children
& old folks in tow, remained quiet without raising any serious objections.
The power of compassion is indeed overwhelming.
Within an hour of arrival, we neared the Lhakhang entrance gate, which was manned
by a sleepy looking policeman. During the hour long slow trek from the boundary
gate to the Lhakhang entrance, we got chance to enjoy the beauty and
tranquility of the entire Pangrizampa compound, and chant some prayers to
accumulate merits and spare a thought for the peace & well-being of all
sentient beings. The campus is strikingly beautiful with tall & huge
cypress trees reminding us of Guru Rinpoche’s walking staff, the mother of all
such trees in Bhutan. The new Dema Lhakhang to the left of the walk is
magnificent and modern designed. The several small chortens (stupas), painted rocks, the gurgling little stream
flowing under the small, antique covered bridge, into a small pond and flowing
out ultimately into the Thimchu reflects peace & slowness of enlightenment.
To the right of the monastery, I noticed the new traditional Bazam
(cantilever bridge) constructed recently. It completes the ambience of the
Lhakhang.
As we stepped into the main courtyard, the sound of prayers
and religious instruments became visual. In the center tent were seated the
monks who were chanting the prayers. The Lama (Leader of prayers) sat on an
elevated seat with rows of red-yellow robed monks, most of them young, seated
at ground level. They were chanting prayers, while a couple rows of them played
the various musical instruments. The chanting were normal mostly but at
intervals, the chanting assumed very throaty tones. These throaty tones never
fail to amaze me. It is not normally possible to produce such tones. It is
possible only through years of coaching & practice, I think.
Finally, we moved into the tent with the main altars, ready
with money offerings in our hand. A policeman at the tent entrance already
cautioned us to move quickly. Normally, we have the habit of spending a good
amount of time in front of the altars or statues and gather our thoughts and
prayers at leisure. We like to concentrate, say our prayers and then make our
offering. Here we didn’t have that luxury. The policeman kept ordering us to
move on, probably expecting us to do a 40 km/hour speed. This orders interfered
in my thought-line and I could hardly bring up the prayers in my mind.
Nevertheless, I quickly moved through the altars one by one. First, on the side
there was the line of 12 animal symbols of time (12 different animal signs
signifying 12 different years from the Chinese/Tibetan astrological system).
Next, in the main row of altars stood the central and majestic display of
religious torma (religious cakes/ offerings) decorated in unbelievable
colours and patterns. Then the rows of lifelike statues of His Majesty the
King, His Majesty the great fourth, Her Majesty the Gyaltshuen (Queen), and the
Je
Khenpo (Chief abbot of Bhutan). We made offerings of Nyendhar
(money) & prayers in front of each of these sacred icons. We also offered
the nyendhars sent by our family
members on their behalf.
We have been brought up to pray for the benefit of all
sentient beings – who have been our parents in our many different lives, for
the good health & long life of our Kings and Queens, our family, friends, neighbors
and finally our own-selves. Therefore, as you can see, one really needs a good
allowance of time in front of the altar/ statues. But this morning was
different, with a thousand-strong pushing their way from behind. After the
completion of the sacred witness of all religious icons, we then prostrated thrice
towards the tent where the monks were seated. Next we prostrated towards the
main altar. This completed the ritual of submission of one self to the Triple
Gem – the Buddha, Dharma & Sangha, through the total submission of our
body, speech and mind. Only later we realized that the prostration on the
uneven, rough stony ground had invariably scraped everyone’s knees.
Finally on the way out, the remaining portion of our wallets’
content found their outlet. There are a couple of stalls where one can give
some money as donation for the Kurim (the grand prayer ceremony),
for Dokpa
Chodrup (long-life & obstacles removing prayers) and for a couple
of other good causes. With the mental satisfaction of having made at least some
contribution for a greater good, I exited the campus, accompanied by my wife
& daughter. On the way out, for you to be able to continue the act of
giving, a few old men & women sit at vantage points, turning their small
hand held prayer wheels and muttering mantras, while signalling you to an open
plastic alms bag in front of their crossed legs. I am certain they empty the
contents into another bigger bag discreetly hidden behind their backs, because the
front alms bag had only a few stray currency notes. I am positive that I saw everyone
putting something in there, on their way out.
Once outside the campus, we fell right into the middle of a
bustling market. There were stalls of various nature. While quite a few shops
were dealing in tshog & offerings,
there were many good sized restaurants selling tea, colas, thukpa, snacks and
even red wine. A little further a man sitting beside a fully loaded pick-up
truck coaxed us to buy water melons, at wholesale price. Further down the road,
several shops were selling garments – t-shirts, track suits, jackets, slippers,
rain-coats, etc. Whoever said that Bhutanese people are not enterprising enough
should come here and also visit the Tshechu market in all dzongkhags.
Earlier, I had parked my car in a good open space, taking
care to estimate that I wouldn’t be blocked by late comers. But it is really
amazing how our fellow drivers are so successful in deciding otherwise, with
their nonsense parking attitude. I found a Santa-fe car rear-ended on the front
of my car without leaving any space to move forward. There was no space to manoeuvre
as another van was parked only a few inches behind that car. But my earlier
shrewd estimate had paid off – I had some space to the back. I reversed and
came out to join the main road.
As we headed home, we felt a sense of deep satisfaction and spirituality
envelope us. This event takes place only once a year, and is considered as a
mother of all such rituals. Individual families cannot afford to conduct such an
event at home, and participating in this event is equally considered as
conducting the ceremony in your own home. Such is its impact and meaning. To
further extend the benefit of this special Kurim
to our parents & other family members, we had brought with us Sungkeys
(blessed threads) for them too. This would roughly translate to mean that all
our family members have directly or indirectly participated in this great annual
event at Pangrizampa.
Tashi Delek!
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