Reminiscing the Losar

A lot of people will be there. A crowd of women will be much near to them. These women will be with what we call Tshogchang consisting of palangs of ara, banchang and singchang, bangchungs of Yuechoom with pa and flasks of tea. With mountain of interest, they would shout as the men played archery match. Men with interest already in the game would be further encouraged by women’s presence and encouragement. Further below their archery ground would be young boys in their own range playing archery.

Some men or boys would play even khuru, doego and soksom.

I would have arrived at the range at least by 9 am eager to meet friends and enjoy the archery match. Parents made all this possible. They would wake me up at around 6 am and breakfast would be already ready: echoom rice with meat thukpa, suja, and khabzey. I loved thukpa so much. I would have it as much as I can dare. I even wished I could drink it like father.

Then they would right away go to kitchen and prepare lunch. I would just stay with my siblings and roam about the place. It was even merrier to have neighbours join us. With their children, we played any games we can think of. When parents call us in, it would be for lunch. We rushed in noisily not minding our manners.

Fried cheese, thin sliced pork riddled by yellow radish, echoom rice mixed with noodles, beef partnered by beans and potatoes, jaju, potato curry, and dhal will be gracefully placed in the center of room and we would surround it in circle and sit.

Father would burn little of every item over a little metal plate and keep it outside. This was an offering to those who feed on it, the local deities and others. Then mom with other moms would sit near the items and cater the food.

It would be 9 am when we end it. And I would leave for the match fixed with my friends for the match.

I would rarely hit a karey, but that least bothered me. I shouted for my team. And when I hit, I made it a great celebration.

As the evening approached, we would go to elder’s archery range. They would have stopped the match and would be feasting on tshogchangs. We would share from that. Some would get drunk. When the tshochang finishes, they would place some amount of money over every emptied banchung, palang and flasks.

Today, reflecting on it, I feel I was ungrateful. But that was there since I knew.

During the night, I would go with my friends singing songs and dancing from a home to another. We call it changshey. We sang until we received the amount we thought is ok. We were so mischievous. We would come with smile all over at night and go to sleep.

Right now, I am missing my parents, missing food they prepare. I am just imagining what menu they would be planning. I called them and they are done with khabzey making. I just wish them Happy Losar. May sound health, clear mind and good fortune for the year come to you.

And I am really missing the good times I had then. Indeed I will miss the good times because that trend seems to waning out. Even I, who knows about it, am busy trying to prove my brain at a place far from home at Thimphu, RIM. Social bond seems to weaken gradually.

At least I am hopeful that Losar wouldn’t be wiped out of note and celebration. 


Glossary:
Bangchang: Whisky
Bangcung: Woven cane plate

Pa: Meat
Palang: Pitcher
Singchang: Whisky
Tshogchang: A custom of offering drinks in groups
Yue choom: Rice from the village/local rice

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