ÛLha- Can modernity abridge every mystery and modern mind?

One early morning, I woke up to a loud ringtone of my old phone which snatched away my peaceful morning sleep and a beautiful dream. With my eyes still drooping, I picked up the call. “Aren’t you going? Today is Namgang”, one of my friends toned busy at the other end. “I am still in bed you may like to proceed please.” And the time was 5 in the morning. Outside, it was raining and I did not realise I fell back asleep.

By the time my mother woke me up, it was 7 o’clock. She said that I must go attend the Ûlha Soelkha (ritual to appease the village’s protecting deity). Suddenly, her words prompted me as I was waiting for the moment since a month ago. As same as other village folks were looking forward, I have been waiting for this moment to come, so I did not want to miss a chance. I dialled my friend to know that they were already halfway through pitching a tent to guard them from the heavy downpour. I could see my mom busy packing a bangchung of rice a palang of bangchang and ara each. Outside, my dad, with the worn-out umbrella over him, was busy gathering a bundle each of the varieties of vegetable from his kitchen garden. After a quick breakfast, we headed to the spot. I escorted my grandpa, who murmured amidst the raindrops and our feet splashing against the pool of rainwater on our way.

As we moved in, I requested my grandfather, one of the living historians of the village, to narrate me on the significance of the ritual, at least from the layman’s view.  There he goes.

The ritual is called, Û-lha-soel. This tradition of offering takes place specifically on 30^th day of the 3^rd month of the Bhutanese calendar. Of course, he is not sure of why it is being observed on that particular day as much as he does not know when the tradition started. But one thing he is certain that the day used to be observed since he was a young boy which meant that it was in vogue from generations and time immemorial.

At one point in time long ago, the village befell a series of agonising ill-luck that peoples’ crops were damaged by extreme weather conditions and their herds fell prey to wild canines. People were at the verge of getting succumbed to hunger that year and they had to face the harsh reality of life. Just to gather people’s hope for a better life tomorrow, village’s elders built a stupa where sickly villagers could visit and pray for solace. And to the miracle of their prayers, the ill-fated problems disappeared and never happened thereon.

That is how the tradition of making an offering of various vegetable spores and cattle furs during this ritual originated. That day on, they made a point that the day was observed with everyone in the village coming together and saying prayers for their welfare. However, like my grandfather, elder people expressed their worries that this tradition would go on unobserved during the times of the future generations and the ill-fated day would befall them. 

By the time we reached the spot, the rain already receded to drizzles, and with a wink of the morning sun rays through the clouds, brought a beautiful rainbow.  My curiosity to watch them perform grew even more. But I could not convince my eyes that the ritual was not hosted in the village Lhakhang. Everyone was busy in their own ways near the old stupa of about three centuries old. A few men were into preparing the traditional formalities. I observed that a few of them were inquiring elders what the sequence each torma (ritual cake) should be placed. On both sides of the improvised alter, antique textiles and swords were hung. On the foreside, a series of tormas were lined up. The food people brought were laid down on the banana leaves. On the base of the chorten, bundles of grains and vegetable saplings were placed. This was the first time in my entire life, I attended the ritual which at first appeared bizarre to me but was amazed by how the belief system made everyone’s mind think in unison.

As people started to prostrate and pray, I bothered my grandfather again. “I will no longer raise cattle and do farming in future. There is no reason to keep this tradition alive.” He responded to me with a sarcastic laugh at first. “Every person has their own god by the virtue of their birth (skya lha) who guides and protects them. Similarly, almost all villages have their protective deities.” He cited a few popular names of the deities for my understanding. “They would never be away from us irrespective of places and work we do. If we don’t know these things, trying staying carefree, mix up everything, at some point in our life, we would face their wrathfulness”, He explained with some sense of indifference in his mind.

A chill sensation ran through my spines. Imaginations of my life being away from the village flashed in my eyes. It will be certainly difficult for people of my age to attend this type of important ritual in future. If at all what he told me was certain to happen, this was nothing more than a generations’ curse to the modernity, after all, modernity also involves being logical and rationale. If logic has to overrule the traditions that are based on belief and hearsay, elder people’s fear of losing the tradition is not far away.

However, if today’s youth have to uphold all traditions some of which are irrational and against what modern education and science have to teach, it would be nothing more than fighting a modern war with ice-age weapons. Traditions such as this call for more research and logical settings in our mind to abridge both the lives of classical elder and contemporary youth. Can we afford to practise the tradition without ascertaining why and how part? Can we dwell on why and how and leave the tradition unattended? Are the youths not pushed to an island of mixed mindset? I have more questions than answers.         

With these questions clouded in my mind, I rushed back home to write about this and share with others who probably would have answers to my questions. If not answers, you certainly would have these questions in your mind. By writing this short article, I can only hope that you all ask your parents and elder people in your village about your Kelha, Yuelha and why must you uphold the tradition. Finding the time and asking them about anything could happen today, or never. I wish you luck in your pursuit of writing similar stories and more.