Empty-handed we come, Empty-handed we go

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Empty-handed we come, Empty-handed we go *

Empty-handed we come, Empty-handed we go *

Moving into a new house

I have been living in Tanzania since last 3 weeks with my friend and his family.  Now my friend has decided to move into a new house after 5 ½ years.  I am moving with them.  And it is happening today.  He was little sentimental this morning and says that this is the only place that his children know as their home.  But life goes on.  Change is inevitable.  And situation demands changes.  But we do get attachments with our places, especially our house where spent our times.

My ‘dream’ home

I grew up in a downtown Kathmandu.  Those days you will rarely see any vehicles in the streets therefore playing spaces were plentiful.  So we used to spend more time outside our houses playing and mingling with the neighbors.  We played until it gets dark.  My Grandma used to call me to get back home but our games would not have finished yet.  Grandma’s first calls would be very gentle and I would not return home until the calls become serious warnings!  I know Grandma can never get angry with me and food is served with my Grandpa when I return home.  My Grandpa was the ‘wisest’ person I have ever met.  We had a very special bonding despite we had 65 years of gap in our ages.  We used to sleep together and Grandpa has a habit of doing gentle message on my body.  Before I sleep, I always had some stories told by my Grandpa, usually about his times in Tibet.  All those things still come in my dreams, the stories, and the house.  I will never forget my first house until I will die.  We sold that house when grandpa died, that was some 40 years back and I still pause whenever I pass through that location.  Amazingly the house is still intact in an original forms and survived 2 major earthquakes.  I wish I can get back this house again, but now a days houses in downtown Kathmandu are too expensive.  So I will keep enjoying my sweet dreams of my first home.

Giving Away Culture

After my first home, I have moved to 3 more houses, but my first love will remain first. When we moved from our second home I roughly had 11 suitcases, but when we moved from the third one, I had 94 boxes + suitcases + furniture + my children.  We have accumulated so many things during that time.  As I was arranging the shifting, I counted 43 new key chains scattered around.  In my collections, there were things which I might need once in my life time and there were things which I will never use at all.  We just keep on collecting things, and we don’t have habit of giving away.  From my last move, I had made a rule for myself, ‘I can buy new thing but I have to give away my old ones’.  I tell you, this rule works pretty well.

Giving away culture is a good thing.  The more you give the more you get.  For instance, if you enter your classroom with one nice smile, you will get smile back from entire team.  When I gave away all my key chains and unused furniture, instantly I got two things back: lots of thank Qs and more space in my house. These furniture were charging me extra money for its space!   But the best things to share are not always money or materials, but it would be love, wisdom, ideas, learning.  Grandpa shared so much of his wisdom in my early life, I feel I should do same thing to my people.


Attachment and Suffering

There are some great teachers who talked about Attachment.   Buddha’s teaching says, “Attachment is the root of suffering”.  Dalai Lama once said “most of our troubles stem from attachment to things that we mistakenly see as permanent”.  I tend to agree with them and trying to linking these learnings into practice.  But not that easy.  We have too many sentiments attached with the materials we own.  Even when it is in a scrap condition we don’t want to through away because of these sentiments.  According to one research, it suggests that we only wear 20% of our clothes from our wardrobe regularly.  I remember once my relative had to through away a big pile of authentic Tibetan Carpets, because it was kept damp in the attic.  She could have used it which would have lasted longer than storing it.  She was so attached with the carpet that she did not even want to use it in her daily life, until it was damaged.  Obviously, she was so sad because it was the gift brought by her late husband all the way from Lhasa!

Money can’t buy me home

Home is where your heart lies.  And that is true in many ways.  If I have money I can buy house, but I can’t still make it my home until I instill people living inside with love, affection, warmth and many other things.   Money can’t buy me home.  I am trying to make home in Tanzania.  I am trying to make family away from family.

Well our house move in Tanzania is over now.  Everything is transported from old to new house.   Nothing’s left over.  And I can see my friend still missed the chance to through away few things.  Well, what do I say!  Perhaps I will ask him to read this blog when he will have time, someday!

3 February 2018

Moving from Mokecheni to Mbezi Beach, Dar es Salaam, Tanzania

*(this blog is inspired from Alexander the Great’s story: Three last wishes.  Also read this story http://bit.ly/2DZakVQ  if you have time).


Position: Director

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