Pangrizampa: A spiritual rendezvous

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.

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.

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!