Prena Poetry

my srilankan friends asks me why is my name ‘prena’ and not pema, dorji or sonam ( Bhutanese names they have always heard ) even the professors who mispronounce my name tells ‘oh, you have an Indian name” “why?” i tilt my head slightly to right and bite my tongue, it’s easy, i am a lotshampa but how am i to explain it so easily. for as soon as i tell my history, they will again ask “oh, you are from Nepal then?” i am not, my great ancestors have been on this land and brought me up with all the virtues and patriotism. they have witnessed generations of royal coronation, consumed from the land our kings have walked and worshiped in the same temple with the monks. i say again, i am a Bhutanese. and that is confusing to foreign people.

the same people who questions my name, walk into my apartment for a dinner i invited—and at the small choesum in my room they see statue of lord ganesha, thangka of guru rimpoche and again a bold picture of lord skeptically ask “are you not a Buddhist ?” it gets a little confusing after that, i mean my mother originates from a pure buddhist family, my father is kirate, and i am in the middle, who holds to more than two or three different religions. so i tell them again, about how we are indeed buddhist but we also harmonize with different religions.

i am asked often, about how the language i speak is not like my room mates. how i cook different or celebrate different days.

and boy, the identity crisis hits different when you are coming out teenage and growing into a much more complex adult hood. i am never sure where i belong, i am never definitive about my hobbies or style of clothes i want to wear. people around me keeps changing and i find myself in newer places with newer habits and continue bouncing in between many things.

its a a world of uncertainty that revolves around me. i may even change my name, colour my hair, get a tattoo or switch to different jobs.

but what’s so certain in this evolving uncertainty is that i am a Bhutanese, i have been a Bhutanese and i will always be—i will always belong to my mother land. that’s the start and the end of it.