Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Another week goes back to join the thousands of weeks as I finish browsing through the national newspapers- dailies, weeklies... So what is new? Ronaldinho’s with AC Milan, the club that’s become “Jurassic Park.” There’s a ‘Galaticos II’ shaping up at the Santiago Bernabeu with the likes of Ronaldo and Kaka.
Messi’s staying back with Barca and Rooney’s maturing in direct proportion to his receding hairline and Angelina’s on the hunt for another rejected baby. Tropical storms claim yet more lives and closer home; the cabbies don’t wanna be capped, there’s a row among the DPT cadres and the city’s getting congested with agitated drivers.
It’s official. Thimphu’s joined the ‘Road-Rage’ club!
Being able to drive and actually driving are two different things. Our intuitive Bhutanese sense of ‘Short-Cut’ is already causing a toll- accidents and road-rage are some of the obvious symptoms.
Queuing is another alien theme to the Bhutanese mind-set so even as banks, the city offices and all public-facilities try setting down a few ‘Orderly-Services’ the rush is on to be the first one out of the said offices.
Just what’s the rush you wonder?
The monsoons are wrecking havoc on the main national highway and the annual occurrence of kids being swallowed by raging rivers rave on. This time around it was peculiar as seven kids managed to boulder on for long before being eventually claimed by the river.
It was the perfect opportunity to raise and ask questions on our readiness in times of natural calamities. A tragedy by definition is a tragedy. But instead of asking hard-hitting questions, parts of the media fraternity decided to show ‘Solidarity’ and the focus shifted from ‘Disaster-Readiness and Response’ to “Why are media-people involved in it?”
The rape of little girls continues annually and the government’s focus is on “Drug Addicts” even if it’s been proven beyond any doubt that the number one social and familial disruptor in the kingdom is the ‘Booze!’
Who’s to blame? Is there even anybody to blame? What’s there to blame?
Seasons change from year to year, so does everything that grows with it, not enough ‘See See Shamus?’ There aren’t enough apples either.
For that matter; there isn’t much that is enough for anything!
So no-one’s playing the game of table tennis anymore? Who wants to play tennis on a table!
Forgive me if there’s a stench of indignation here but I really do not wanna shit anybody or anyone, specially not myself. I’m tired of Kuensel, ever since it went ‘up-side down’ with its dailies and Bhutan Observer exhausts me with its ‘moral-reporting’ and Bhutan Times, well, can you not give that ‘Interlude’ page to your readers? It gets intolerable seeing the same faces narrating some personal hang-up over and over again.
I left Bhutan Today out because unless it gets a facelift, a total revamp, it looks and smells and reports like a community news letter.
These are the very reasons I buy and read these papers. What else is there to do in a kingdom with such a massive boredom syndrome?
Confusion reigns supreme, a quarter of a life wasted and I’m still down with the worldly flu. Here’s a fantasy I delved into and if you are bored with the SOS (same old stories), go through another routine this weekend and read these musings.
The butterfly and the moth are two opposite-parts of a wholesome unit and I call it the motherly, not like fireflies or dragonflies but a motherly. There is no Father-Fly, there could be one, the possibilities are infinite but for this end of the tail I’m going to stick with the motherly. Now just what is a Mother-Fly one might ask?
It’s the imaginary infusion of 'butterflies and moths'
Everyone’s seen butterflies, everyone's seen moths, cross these two delicate creatures and you get what I’d like to think of as the 'Mother-Fly'! Now if you will bear with my wandering metaphors I’d like to say why.
Big bold changes are taking place in the way the RGoB functions with a lot of new policies and initiatives thrown in to shape up and slim in that good old trusted body. It’s been through quite a lot in the last couple of decades, perhaps a regular visit to the gym of good governance is not a bad proposition at all. The forceful melee of politics, politicians and 'politicking' hangs thick in the air, spurring visions chaotic, corrupt and disrupt.
Another Sunday will pass by like an odorless fart and all the conspiracy theories and theorists will be back to churn the same yarn come Monday. (Pardon the assumption but there it is!)
That’s when I had butterflies in my stomach and moths in my knots! Butterflies are beautiful little winged insects, as everyone knows and they flutter from flower to flower, suckling nectar. The flowers guarantee the survival of their species by seducing the winged ones to suckle their nectar and pollinate them, thus a win-win situation. Butterflies are also solar creatures, devouring sun-lit days and resting the dark nights.
This is where the moths come in, heading for the lights in all their lunatic forms and guises. My first memoirs of a moth are meshed in confusion; I thought it was a butterfly. The other indelible impression the moth made was its headlong thrust into streetlamps and jaded old light bulbs in the corridors of our verandas and just about anywhere where there was ‘light’.
You wonder whether it’s a suicidal binge or daring bravado; Silly folly or sagacious sacrifice? Who’s to know? It's a matter of the moth's perspective versus our own and I haven’t spoken to a moth yet. I look around, and I see a lot of moths dimming the walls of power and politics and I spot butterflies too, illuminating these very auspices.
Both are metaphorical creatures. They live as stages until metamorphosis takes over and transforms them into beautifully patterned winged little flyers.
Cross-pollinate the two and you have the grace and beauty of the butterfly and the courage of the moth.
In my mental make-up, the ‘Mother-Fly’ is what we all can become.
*Next Week: The Shit-Fly and the Honey-Bee.