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25/04/2025

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“Joyful steps after silence: Monks Circumambulate the Lower valley of Kabesa.”After completing 45 days of Yarney, the sa...
18/04/2025

“Joyful steps after silence: Monks Circumambulate the Lower valley of Kabesa.”

After completing 45 days of Yarney, the sacred summer retreat, a group of monks emerged from their monastery with joyous smiles, their faces glowing with peace and fulfillment. They began their circumambulation of the lower valley of Kabesa, marking the end of their retreat with this sacred journey, a gesture of offering and connection with the land and people.

Yarney, observed during the rainy season, is a time of spiritual retreat when monks refrain from traveling and remain in the monastery to fully dedicate themselves to prayers, meditation, and strict monastic discipline. For 45 days, they lived in silence and simplicity, following the monastic code with unwavering discipline.

The retreat was not easy. The monks endured physical discomfort, long hours of stillness, and mental challenges. Some battled fatigue and hunger; others struggled to keep their thoughts pure. Yet, through it all, they held firm — guided by their vows and the belief that such hardship brings spiritual transformation.

As they stepped out into the open field, their faces reflected deep inner joy. There was serenity in their eyes and a quiet pride in their posture. Villagers gathered along the path to greet them with offerings and folded hands. Children followed them in excitement, and elders bowed in reverence.

Their circumambulation was more than a ritual walk, it was a silent celebration of resilience, discipline, and spiritual achievement. As they chanted and walked through the valley, their presence brought blessings to everyone they passed.

Despite the physical fatigue, the monks radiated happiness. Their smiles were full of peace, the kind that comes only from deep spiritual work. In their steps, the valley witnessed not just a return, but a renewal. Their journey was a reminder of the strength of the human spirit and the quiet joy that follows sincere effort.

In that moment, the monks’ peaceful presence turned the valley into a living prayer.

~ 2019, Thimphu.

“A Glimpse of Truth at Dolung Goenpa”In the morning of fresh air at Dolung Goenpa, a young monk holds your gaze with a p...
16/04/2025

“A Glimpse of Truth at Dolung Goenpa”

In the morning of fresh air at Dolung Goenpa, a young monk holds your gaze with a presence that is both quiet and profound. His eyes fix directly on the lens, revealing a mix of worry and an unusual intensity. This is not a look of simple apprehension but one that carries the burden of a long journey and the spark of genuine inspiration.

The young monk, barely out of childhood, arrived at the monastery after a demanding journey from Bajo town. The ride has left its mark on him. His maroon robe speaks of a life not of ease but of discipline and dedication. The steep road he traveled echoes the inner journey of learning and awakening that has brought him to this sacred place.

When he looks into the camera, his eyes tell a story beyond words. There is a hint of worry, perhaps from the realization that his chosen path requires him to confront mysteries that even his young heart finds overwhelming. Yet, amid that worry, there is a look of true inspiration. It is as if he is absorbing the quiet wisdom of the monastery and the vast landscape around him, letting these elements shape his understanding of life.

His strange and thoughtful expression needs no embellishment. It speaks of a journey that is both physical and spiritual. This young monk is not merely a subject captured in a moment; he is a living symbol of courage and the quest for meaning. His direct gaze challenges the viewer to look beyond the surface and to recognize that inspiration often comes in the form of uncertainty and profound inner struggle.

Captured in the frame, Dolung Goenpa, becomes more than a destination. It turns into a place of transformation where a long journey and an earnest heart meet the quiet light of revelation.

~ Dolung Goenpa, Wangdue Phodrang.

“Harmonies of Devotion on Drakarpo”High above the quiet landscapes of Bhutan, Paro Drakarpo stands as a living monument ...
15/04/2025

“Harmonies of Devotion on Drakarpo”

High above the quiet landscapes of Bhutan, Paro Drakarpo stands as a living monument to faith, tradition, and the human spirit. Here on the sacred hill—known as ‘Chagtshel gang Dha luu Len gang’ or the “hill of prostration, singing, and dancing”—a man in his 50s embodies the legacy of countless pilgrims. With his hands folded in devotion and his voice rising at the top of his lungs, he sings a hymn of gratitude and renewal, a proclamation of his spiritual journey after completing the sacred 108 rounds of walk around the hills and monastery.

He stand as the focal point of this enduring tradition. With his eyes closed in deep reverence and his folded hands raised in prayer, he sings with all his heart. His voice, imbued with the warmth of personal experience and the collective memory of his ancestors, cuts through the still air. Each note he utters seems to carry away the weight of past burdens while inviting the promise of a fresh start.

The act of singing, particularly in such a sacred setting, is a deeply transformative form of devotion. For him, it is not merely an expression of joy but an offering to the divine, a way of acknowledging that every step taken on this long journey is both an act of humility and an echo of eternal celebration.

Not far from where this solitary act of singing unfolds, a group of ordinary people gathers in a spontaneous dance. Their movements are graceful yet unstructured, reflecting the communal spirit of Paro Drakarpo. The dancing is more than a festive ritual; it is an expression of shared joy and an affirmation of their deep-rooted connection to the sacred tradition.

In the midst of these dances, the hill resonates with both individual and collective celebrations. The spirited movements of the dancers mirror the cyclical nature of the pilgrim’s journey, the disciplined walk gradually giving way to exuberant expressions of gratitude and freedom. This duality is at the core of the hill’s essence: a place where spiritual rigor meets heartfelt joy, where personal devotion blends with communal celebration.

In the hills of Chagtshel gang Dha luu Len gang, history and modernity converge, creating a symphony of hope, resilience, and profound spiritual awakening—an eternal call to celebrate our shared human quest for meaning and connection.

~ Paro Drakarpo

“Reflections at Baylangdra: A Testament to Resilience and Faith”In a secluded corner of the world, where the ancient hil...
15/04/2025

“Reflections at Baylangdra: A Testament to Resilience and Faith”

In a secluded corner of the world, where the ancient hilltop Baylangdra Monastery stands as a silent guardian of spiritual heritage, a 65-year-old man weaves his daily tale of survival and introspection. Clad in a distinctive maroon Buddhist robe and burdened with 50 kg of rice strapped upon his back, his journey up the hill is not that of a temporary pilgrim but rather of a man who has made the monastery his home—a sanctuary where he endures the trials of aging while striving to live a life of dignity, resilience, and deep-rooted spirituality.
Every step of the climb up to the Baylangdra Monastery is laden with significance. This journey is not merely a test of physical strength, it is an enduring metaphor for life’s struggles and the relentless pursuit of purpose amid adversity. The steep, winding path mirrors the challenges the man faces as he navigates his later years, where each step is a testament to perseverance and the courage to face life’s uncertainties head-on.

The 50 kg of rice he carries is more than just a physical load, it symbolizes the sustenance needed to continue surviving, both materially and spiritually. Rice, often revered as a fundamental source of nourishment, reflects the perennial struggle for daily sustenance and the relentless drive to persevere against the odds. In this context, the weight of the rice stands as a poignant reminder of the burdens we all carry, whether material, emotional, or spiritual.

For this man, who lives within the monastery walls, the rice represents life’s essential requirements, the fuel that powers his day-to-day survival. It evokes a dual symbolism: while it literally nourishes his body, it also metaphorically sustains his spirit, fortifying him against the inevitable challenges of aging and the hardship of his environment.

The maroon Buddhist robe draped upon him is rich with symbolic meaning. In Buddhist tradition, the color maroon is associated with humility, devotion, and the renunciation of worldly distractions. It speaks to a life dedicated to inner growth, compassion, and the transformative journey that one embraces in the face of impermanence.

Unlike the transient nature of many pilgrimages, this man’s journey is one of permanence. He does not merely visit the monastery; he has become a part of it. The decision to reside within these sacred walls is a profound statement of finding refuge, a deliberate turn towards a life anchored in spiritual resilience and communal support.

In a world rife with challenges, especially in the later years of life, taking refuge in religion represents a strategic and heartfelt escape from the chaos outside. Within the monastery, the turbulent uncertainties of the outside world seem to give way to a disciplined rhythm of existence, a place where the values of mindfulness, compassion, and simplicity are not just ideals but daily practices that nurture survival and hope.

This living testament of resilience challenges us to redefine what it means to age gracefully. Rather than surrendering to the inevitabilities of decline, he chooses to embrace a life of mindful survival, where each burden is transformed into a stepping stone toward inner peace and renewed purpose. In his quiet defiance against the passage of time, he inspires us to seek refuge not only in our beliefs but also in our ability to transform life’s adversities into pathways of hope and renewal.

“Through the Window: A Smile Beyond the Frame”Framed by the intricate patterns of a Bhutanese traditional window, a youn...
14/04/2025

“Through the Window: A Smile Beyond the Frame”

Framed by the intricate patterns of a Bhutanese traditional window, a young girl smiles—not just with her lips, but with her entire spirit. It’s the kind of smile that quietly disarms you. Innocent, unbothered, and timeless. In a world full of complexities, this simple expression becomes a quiet rebellion—an unspoken declaration of joy despite the unknowns beyond her gaze.

The window itself is more than just carved wood. It is a threshold between the sacred privacy of home and the untamed world outside. And she, resting her arms on its sill, becomes a symbol of hope perched on the edge of tradition and tomorrow.

Her smile carries irony too—so small and young, yet already standing at the gateway between protection and possibility. She doesn’t yet know the weight of the world, but she’s already leaning toward it with curiosity and courage.

The traditional window she peeks through once shielded generations, holding back wind, time, and change. Now, it frames the future—bright-eyed and full of dreams. What lies beyond that wooden frame may be uncertain, but in that moment, her smile is a quiet promise: that beauty, wonder, and innocence still live in the hearts of the young, waiting to look out and touch the world.

The nomadsIn the high-altitude nomadic lands of Bhutan, where the sky feels close enough to touch and the winds sing anc...
14/04/2025

The nomads

In the high-altitude nomadic lands of Bhutan, where the sky feels close enough to touch and the winds sing ancient songs, life is as raw as the rugged terrain itself. Here, amid frozen pastures and snow-draped peaks, a solitary figure moves slowly through the white silence. It’s a woman with a bamboo basket at her back. She’s fetching water—not for herself, but for her yaks.

She is a nomad. A mother. A guardian of tradition. In a land where water in winter is not a given, but a gift, she walks for miles to a distant pond that has not yet frozen completely. Sometimes, the only source is melted snow—painstakingly collected, boiled, and stored for survival. There are no taps, no tanks, no easy access. Just patience, endurance, and a lifetime of knowing how to live with the land rather than against it.
Her walk for water is not a daily chore—it is a lifeline. The path she treads is packed with snow, slippery and steep, yet her steps are steady. She has done this since she was a girl, learning from her mother, who once carried her on the same path.

In her cracked hands and sunburnt face lies a story of quiet strength. She doesn’t speak of hardship, because this is not hardship to her—this is life, and she carries it with dignity.

The photo of her reveals not just the scarcity of water in these frozen lands, but the resilience of those who live here. While the rest of the world debates climate, convenience, and comfort, she keeps walking—day after day, season after season.

The snow may melt with spring. The streams may flow again. But her image remains—a portrait of perseverance, a symbol of survival, and a silent reminder that in the most remote corners of the world, life continues with grace and grit.

Two Faces of the Game: Where Spirit Meets SportOn a patch of green Dobji Dzong, surrounded by rugged hills, life unfolds...
13/04/2025

Two Faces of the Game: Where Spirit Meets Sport

On a patch of green Dobji Dzong, surrounded by rugged hills, life unfolds in the simplest, most profound ways. Recently, I came across two images — powerful, silent, yet deeply telling. One of a boy standing shirtless on a football field, goalkeeper gloves in hand, mismatched shoes on his feet. The other, a young monk in his crimson robe, calmly holding a bright red football, his face lit with quiet confidence.
At first glance, these images might seem unrelated — two different boys, two different worlds. But if you look a little deeper, you’ll see that they tell the same story.
The boy on the football field is more than just a young goalie. He is a symbol of resilience. With a patch of worn grass as his stadium, one glove hanging loosely, and one foot nearly bare, he stands ready — not just to block goals, but to chase his own. There’s grit in his stance, the kind that doesn’t come from fancy coaching or new gear, but from the love of the game and the hunger to play, no matter the odds.
His presence on the field is a reminder that passion needs no perfection. That football — like life — doesn’t wait for the perfect shoes or the right conditions. It happens here, now, with what you have.
And then, there is the monk — small, composed, and oddly fitting with a football in hand. His crimson robes flow differently than a jersey, but the spark in his eyes is unmistakably familiar: curiosity, joy, readiness. This image captures something beautiful — the blending of spiritual stillness with playful motion.
In his world of chants, prayers, and discipline, the ball becomes a symbol of balance. It’s not just play — it’s presence. It teaches him patience, awareness, and the beauty of flow, the very principles he learns in monastic life.

These two young souls may walk different paths — one through the village barefoot, the other through monastery corridors. Yet here on the football ground, they meet as equals. No one is a monk, no one is a goalkeeper — they are just kids, united by the universal language of sport.

Football, in these hills, is more than a game. It’s a teacher. It teaches the monk humility in failure, the goalie courage in the face of attack. It creates friendship beyond robes and roles.

These images speak not just of childhood and play but of hope. Of how the spirit of the game thrives where there are no stadium lights. Of how football gives space for both the dreamer and the disciplined. Of how joy, play, and purpose can share the same field — barefoot, robed, or gloved.
Maybe the world doesn’t need grand arenas to celebrate the game. Maybe, just maybe, all it needs is a patch of green, a ball, and two kids who dare to play — one with prayer in his step, the other with dreams in his gloves.

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12/04/2025

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