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Nothing is By Chance


Sangay got an assignment to take a picture of a rare statue in the Guru Lhakhang in Pomeysa, Paro. Since he knew that the drive was going to be long and rough, he wanted a friend and he asked me to come along. Since I had not been to this monastery, I readily agreed.


We had to ask several people on the way if the road we were taking was right. The road was steep upwards, narrow and rough. When we finally reached a village after driving in the dust for around two hours, we asked a person, where the monastery is located. The old man had problem hearing, so we had to look for another man. He showed us the way—and we went further up. The rough drive was forgotten; the green lush meadow and the green fluttering leaves gave me a very cheerful mood. Besides, Sangay is a nonstop talker. We probably shared many secrets.


We finally reached the monastery. A gelong showed us the place where lama stays. The Lama, a very friendly man, gave us tea as soon as we reached inside. We realized only then that we should have taken a ‘chhanjay’. We are both careless in that sense and we forgot. Lama seemed a busy man. He had a guest that evening—the Tashigang Lam Neten. We stood in line to greet this guest and we quickly got out from his house to attend to our business.


I asked the young gelong who took us to the monastery: “Nochu, gati ley mo?” I asked it in a soft long tune. He said, “Tashigang ley en la.”

I squeaked with enthusiasm now and I asked, “Tashigang ogai ya?”

And to my utter surprise he answered that he is from Bartsham. Now, that is where I am from too. It was unimaginable for me to think that I was meeting a person from my village in a place so far away; a place that I didn’t even know existed. I asked him if the Lama was married and his wife was from Bikhar. I wanted to clear my doubt first. I met this lama before when I was in Tashigang. He was married to a classmate of mine. Though I forgot his face, I thought I sensed a familiarity I couldn’t really place.


This drove me totally surprised and it was still unbelievable. I then asked him about his mother and other siblings.

On my way back, I had to tell Sangay over and again that it was unbelievable; it is true that nothing is by chance. Who could have thought I would meet a person from there from my village? And then, as we drove back, we caught up with the taxi that dropped the lama to the monastery. And the taxi driver was my niece’s husband. Sangay and I were already talking about dropping at my niece’s house in Paro and we met her husband on the way. Things were—like—rippling in a circle around my heart. I couldn’t answer what fate this was. But if fate is always to present such ripples of pleasant surprises, I thought, there will not be any sadness.

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