Back in Thimphu after 20 years! (published by Bhutan Times in 2008)

I am absolutely filled with emotions- no better way of getting out of it than jotting some of that down. I have never written anything seriously in my life except my thesis some five years ago. A strange feeling of detachment from my 17 years of passionate teaching at Sherubtse has inspired me to write today.

As a fresh university graduate in 1987, Thimphu looked and smelt different to me. Coming from Sherubtse then, Thimphu still looked crowded, cramped and full of vehicles. As a very normal practice those days, I had gone through the chores of civil service exams, officers’ training and attachment programmes. Scholarship came by without much effort but with a string attached – earmarked to teach at Sherubtse. When I landed back at Sherubtse in 1991 to be on the other side of the table this time, I had not even a faintest of idea that I would spend 17 best years of my life there. Time rolled by with every passing batch of graduates and arrival of the fresh ones. Almost at the same proportion was faculty turn over. Only when you occasionally meet your older students driving the newest of cars in the country, turned plump and flanked by their grown up children, you get an explanation to your receding and graying hair and you are alerted about your own future.

Something suddenly struck my mind and I did decide to leave Sherubtse surprising many there – even myself. I had seen this college grow from pre-University to degree, from some 200 to 1000 students and mere 20 to over 100 faculty members. More recently, new buildings, new facilities, new courses and modern amenities trickling down brought comforts and excitements and also the growing problems challenged the management in many ways.

I had landed at Sherubtse from Thimphu in a government Hilux with just a cooking gas cylinder and a bedding rolled in a typical green coloured thick cloth case and this week when I returned to Thimphu I had my own (the only tangible saving )– a brand new Getz car that I proudly bought without taking any loan. Of course a truckload of old furniture, utensils and clothing, and books also followed me, not to mention a newly bought pair of reading glass that I vehemently refuse to put on. As I put up with my son, who is recently employed, in a cramped house overlooking a dusty and busy highway, I am constantly reminded of my beautiful government bungalow within very green Sherubtse campus, which I had occupied only about 15 months ago after changing some six other different quarters.

I walked into my new office only to find some contractors and engineers discussing the construction project. No academics yet! I missed my teaching, the crowd of young men and women in the corridors, on the play fields, mess and hostels. I missed my colleagues, occasional exchanges of greetings, discussions and gossips of all kinds (salary raise being the most prominent) and above all the serene environment of Kanglung. But then why did I choose to abandon all that I cherished?

As I sit back in the new office at Thimphu all by myself, I try to reason out. Only thing that comes to my mind is Thimphu vs Kanglung phenomenon. Over 600 kms of rugged road commanding two full days of tiring drive from our lateral route and even the greater distance through volatile Assam state of India, Eastern Bhutan even today is truly Jamie Zeppa’s “Beyond Clouds”. Quite often frustrated with all these difficulties, I had questioned to myself - who has stayed at Sherubtse more than me? Obviously, no one and why should I? I have seen many officials have started their career in Thimphu and retired from here. They always grumble about high living standard in the capital city, difficult to pull on etc. but never agreed to get away from Thimphu. Some of them also have managed to buy ‘plots’ and build houses and send their children abroad. There must be some Thimphu tricks that I may as well try out and experience the glamour, I suspect also there is.

I ran into some of my old friends during the last few days in-person and through means of communications. They congratulated me for ‘getting out’ of there and wished me better luck. But for now I am yet to come out of Sherubtse reminiscence and more importantly I have to soon come to terms with my new job.