2 A Celebration

THE DAY WAS GOOD AND WARM AND friendly especially to the people like me with infinitely poor physical resistance. I felt fresh and excitement filled my vacuum brain, but didn't know why? Maybe because the day is going to be special or maybe not. It was just few days staying as a dayscholar as I couldn't fully endorse the hostel life, especially waking up on time.

I, with hardship, completed my boarding for past two years and we

the four naughty guys unilaterally came to the decision of staying as a dayscholar.

I woke up abruptly when alarm clock, a brand Titan watch, shows slap bang 6:30 a.m. I was really enervated tossing and turning after the prolong BS chats on Facebook the antecedent day. What a bloody hell is this media, really addicted. As long as I could reminisce, it was around 2:00 A.M. that I borne on playing, but thank God I still have some more minutes. I kicked the mattress and leaped out of it.

I entered the bathroom and washed my body with dettol soap. And did the morning household chores speedily. The morning was so marvellous with a dazzling sun striking the adorable planet. I could glance the forest thickly enveloped with ever-green trees enjoying the warm company of the luminous sun and the variety of creatures, too; a heaven of diversity.

What is more, fleshy lush leaves that dance under influence of gentle breeze flavours the beauty of the pre spring days. Despite I was a bit late, it was one of the splendid days I ever came about to enjoy.

"Mom...is my breakfast ready?"I said idly.

"Yeah, already. I think now it has been cooled as well. You lazy fellow, come fast." She replied courteously, mother love is eternal------never ending and the greatest of all.

I breakfasted my meal speedily; wore my gown; perfumed with civet; bid adieu my parents and wearing a jolly mask on mine face left for the school.

I had almost travelled half-an-hour when I realized it was the 37th Birth Anniversary of our beloved Fifth Dragon King, usually pronounced as a Druk Ngada Gyalpo. Bloody hell! I again turned back home to get some notes for the day. I forth put to make it a memorable celebration.

"Dawa...are you mad today. Why are you again? It's late." Asked my dad who was milking the cow.

"Ah! I forgot to take some notes because I had kept my words to my friends that I would make today a memorable day." I replied.

After that I headed home which took me nearly a minute or two.

"Dawa...why you again....?" Inquired my mom who was feeding the piglets.

"To take some notes." I replied.

"Are you making use of the money judiciously?" She inquired rather economically.

"Yes Ama...today is my turn to give treat to my friends." I replied putting them in the last part of my laptop-bag.

"OK son, as you wish but don't waste it lavishly and fly it in not allowed spheres." She advised caringly as I am ae son of my parents, washing the dishes.

"Tub Ama.....I won't spend it in not-to-lavish area and carelessly." I responded adjusting the bag at my back.

"Tub tub, I fully trust you." She said smilingly, another wonders of mother's love.

I again headed towards school with my three naughty friends. It wasn't a long stay in the school as we just joined about six to seven days before and I was feeling so enraptured to meet mine adorable accomplices and some naughty, too, after a quite long vacation.

The day was chilly as winter has never broken up. The day usually went off with mundane Socially Useful Productive Work [SUPW, which is hell for the students, especially ours]

Every student was busy in their own world, blabbing and chit-chatting uselessly with their friends like they have eternal things to be shared with them and no exception for me, too. Maximum of the students were supervising, well few were sincere enough to work; funny environment!

The radiance of enjoyment suddenly set when VP, Student Affairs, interrupted the fascinating chat and compelled me to pick up the waste( dairy chocolate's wrappers) that had been thrown up in front of me by Arjun, a senior studying in IT, who is no younger than my papa by comeliness.

Fucking hell! Did I throw and mess that? Do I need to pick up the waste during such occasion? Were I a slave? Nevertheless, my will power was so dim that couldn't boosted my self-esteem but it rather made me unconscious, so I reluctantly and, moreover, out of restraint picked the waste.

I was greatly debased by the moron in front of such gorgeous fairies. I really and firmly wanted to curse him; deliberately. Though my temper ran high to the acme due to the action of bloody hell but it wasn't to last for a long.

Eventually, I was cooled down by the physiological process going on inside my body, especially the categorized hormone types known as the parasympathetic.

I have completely driven away the wrath and ire when I was waiting patiently in the courtyard for usual National Anthem-----the moment to pay homage to our farsighted leaders and way to pray for country's prosperity cum pronouncements.

After National Anthem, we're pronounced and oriented about the day celebration which is, after all, nationwide celebration.

We were asked to be seated on the chairs that have had been arranged the day before, 22nd February. They're arranged in a U-shape so that the performers will be presenting anything in the core and I was excited with burning curiosity that I would be seeing every figure, especially girls'.

Wow! The arrangement for teachers were made so special in the front with adorned camp, especially like what is seen during official party(governmental or dignitaries), farewells and spiritual ritual and comfortable chairs(arm chair). The program kicked off at slap bang 9:00 a.m.

The atmosphere encircling us seems giggling or to the extent of laughing uncontrollably with pleasure in its heart and soul at the embellishment for the celebration. It is a coloured celebration, indeed.

Firstly, as common to the Bhutanese tradition, the vital ceremony commenced with 'Martshang' followed by butter lamp offering as to plead the deities and to mark out the celebration peacefully without any hindrances.

Initially Principal offered butter lamp followed by other teachers in fealty to their seniority which denotes the ultimate deference for the senior and to reveal the truth, it's what enshrined in the Social Etiquette of the Bhutanese Society(Driglam Namzha). No Junior can reap the privilege to do things if the senior hadn't done first. This transinic tradition is being strengthened and consolidated thru numerous centuries since first Bhutanese Civilization.

A typical example could be noted, when the family members sit for meals, firstly, meals will be offered or served to grandpa if befitted, and grandma, dad, so on. Then only followed by the junior in accordance to seniority, again.

From my side, I too wished a good luck for the day though students were not given the opportunity to light the butter lamp as it consumes more time as we're more than a thousand students, just imagine.

Followed by butter lamp ceremony, the unique celebration went off with the well come speech by the Principal where we're seated patiently. I believe he seems to have and know everything of everything!

The most invaluable piece of advice that I inherited or the to-be takeaway message from him is, " To be a successful person in the future, you should start from school itself. This is the ideal place and you should take advantage of this. Teachers cannot run after you, you have to run after them which seems incredibly lacking in this institution. My dear boys and girls, live the present to be present in the future!"

After a well-delivered well come speech by a highly-honored Principal, the casual activities took in charge of the time.

"Our celebration will commence, as a welcome dance, with Bhutanese traditional dance so-called 'Zhungdra' which seems not impressive for the youngsters of the present by School Cultural Club members(SCC) and some class ten's students. We're doing this in order to preserve and prosper its uniqueness." Announced the anchor, the school counsellor; a young gentle man, with the bated breath.

Zhungdra, the national song of Bhutan, has many legendary tales to tell. It's authentic origin seems complicated and sophisticated, which I too is bemused and don't know elaborate background about it. Some people connect with the arrival of Zhabdrung Rinpoche, a revered Drukpa Kargyu lama, while some even goes to the extent of arguing that it flourished before him disconnecting with the latter.

It is sung in a long rhythmic tune, some people even cough just hearing the term Zhungdra, and is widely recognised among the elderly people in the East, Western and Central parts of Bhutan. This type of song is rarely sung beheaded by the up-to-the-minute song that mostly talks and bases upon the foundation of Love, an inevitable whatchamacallit!

Songs are the companion in solitude, I believe, but Zhungdra not only gives the calmness but aids strengthen unique cultural identity. As of this vitality, governments are striving for the betterment and enhancement of cultural uniqueness and preservation.

"Foo! What a monotonous dance is beginning the celebration. I don't think the celebration will be adequately fascinating." Declared Chhimi-- a balmy in our folk.

"Hahaha.....will it be like your face then, eh?" Cajoled Sangay.

"Hey guys! Don't blame and debase our traditional song that has been brought into existence since time immoral by the great saints and has been preserved in the time of turbulence and treacherous conjunctures which has hit the top list in our country's independence. Moreover, it has taken birth in our own land. " Affirmed Dorji firmly proving his patriotism.

"You Wholly Mammoth, you have been existing since Neolithic Period or even during the first human evolution. Haha..." Sangay taunted him sarcastically.

It seemed these guys were debating, insulting and arguing one after another severely like bogged down people waiting for the opportunity.

It got to my nerves.

"Stop it! Shut up morons... Let's enjoy it; may it be monotonous or fascinating." I said but fell on mine fall to detect my own conditions.

"Haha....look at him guys! He is trembling."

Commented Chhimi.

"What's wrong with me, err?" I muttered. "Umm...am just...uh...irritated with you all."

"Gee! You're loosing your pluck and precisely looks like the ill cock after feeding on salt...um...NACL." Cajoled Chhimi, highly insulted.

Moron! I loathe him sheerly not as he looks hideous though might contribute to some extent but because of his BS. He always pull others' legs and affirms himself no better than a cockamamie.

The programme went off with the 'Zhungdra' dance by SCC members and few class ten's students. They're attractively embellished with traditional dress. Girls were adorned with colourful apparel with precious onyx, traditional scarf, blouse and sashed around their seductive waist.

Boys were beautified with traditional gown with white cuff, scarf--yellow colour with flowers painted onto it, traditional shoes, and sword hanging beneath their idiot waists. Both girls and boys were beautified which they aren't in actuality.

Their song was composed by a great Guru, but truly speaking, I don't know the name because am not known for Zhungdra by instinct. Their dance was just succumbing their bodies catching each other's hands. The nesh and smooth sexual invoking hands of fairies were firmly caught by boys. I was horny----as the hormone secretion by Interstitial Cell Stimulating Hormone(ICSH) and gonads might be hyper--secreted--looking at those ravishing damsels particularly their ever attractive busts and teats.

I was envious with those fortunate boys who got a golden opportunity to catch their lovely hands and most probably to sniff their aromatic scents, hilarious thing!

Damn! How hapless was I? It's followed by a folk of boys and girls who might be couples, probably as illicit sexual relationship was popular and was gaining the gusto in all nooks of everyone's burning veracity.

They perform dance of recent creation, that is, 'Rigsar' or up-to-the-minute song which talks but about inevitable love and showering info barely. I am furious to those boys as their lubberly chests seem kissing the loverly girls' seductive and nesh bosoms, probably fresh!

I was fancying , casting myself as one of them, should I be one of them, I would have grabbed those raunchy girls----apples in my eyes-----in my ever selfish arms and would have never let them go.

"Haha...what happened to your tongue? It is twisting from one side to another!"Chhimi jeers at me.

What a jerk? I was day hallucinating. I quickly revived my consciousness.

"You f****** bitch! You are always making fun of me. We are human and we do everything and no exception for me, too." I barked at him. He didn't respond other than smiling.

The programme was indeed fascinating one probably due to being released from the study trauma. Finally, the programme called to end by Tashi Leypey Dance and we all were asked to get inside the MP Hall for lunch.