Garba Lung Gi Khorlo sped down to the Mangdi river.
We are told that the Tongsa penlops or the governors of Tongsa were more or less able to maintain effective control over Tongsa and the surrounding regions even while the other governors were engaged in continuous power struggles among themselves for supremacy. Thus, the post of Tongsa penlop was not only prestigious but also very important. Young aspirants from all over the country yearned to be in the service the Tongsa penlop. These courtiers and attendants were said to be the brightest and the best. The elders tell us that a certain Tongsa penlop enjoyed the services of two truly remarkable men. They were his personal attendants or garbas. Carba Lung gi Khorlo, which translates as “attendant with wheels of wind”, was one of them. He was said to have been an exceptionally fast walker and, therefore, an excellent courier. He could walk so fast that he almost flew. Penjor was the other garba, and he was an extraordinarily fast tailor. He was the penlop’ s tailor and could hand-sew a gho in one day, an incredible feat in those days when hand-sowing a gho usually took more than two whole days. The penlop was very proud of these two men and they were always expected to do a lot.
Carba Lung gi Khorlo had to carry messages every day and he had never let down his master. It is said that he could travel from Tongsa to Wangdiphodrang and back in a day. This journey is about 129 kilometers through rugged craggy terrain and would usually take an average person at least four days.
Those were the days of factions, conspiracies, and plots. A single strong man had yet to emerge and the regional lords were constantly feuding, intriguing and scheming against each other. It was of the utmost importance that allies kept contact with each other and expediting information across the rugged terrain was crucial but at the same time a very big challenge. Carba Lung gi Khorlo’s services to the penlop were invaluable. But Carba Lung gi Khorlo’s real moment of victory came not so much from the distance he covered or the speed with which he completed his feat but when he was standing in the presence of his master and receiving the usual impassive “Tubay” or “alright”.
One day the penlop had a message of great urgency which had to be conveyed to the Wangdi dzongpon immediately. The penlop knew that he could rely on his attendant. The Zimpon handed the letter to Carba Lung gi Khorlo and conveyed the penlop’s order for him to speed to the Wangdi dzongpon and bring back the reply the same day. As Carba Lung gi Khorlo left the penlop’s court the tailor was just unfolding a fabric for a gho. It was at the hour of the first cockcrow.
Carba Lung gi Khorlo sped down to the Mangdi river and climbed to the other side of the Tongsa ravine and was soon climbing towards Pele La. He had done this trial many times and each turn and every ascent was familiar to him. But each journey now caused him more apprehension. It was no longer a challenge and a test of his own prowess as it used to be in the earlier days. Each journey took more and more energy and effort. The soles of his feet hurt and his calves burnt as if there was fire in them and his thighs grew heavier. Above all he dreaded the day he would fail his master, the day that his master would not say “Tubay”. As he thought of all these changes in himself he passed through Nyala Lungma and he soon passed by the Nyala derma’s phodrang or palace-which is in rather an inconspicuous place not much different from the rest of the region. It is a small shaded ravine in the oak forest, it is dark, and hardly any sunlight reaches the place and it is wet although there is no stream anywhere. The most striking feature of this place is that it has an eerie atmosphere and you always feel that uncanny presence of someone that you cannot see. In a moment of impulsive reckless he looked towards the demon’s abode and shouted, “I am tired, I am so tired that I would rather you took my life than that I do one more journey like this.”
Soon after midday he was in the court of the Wangdi dzongpon and after a quick meal he was ready and on his way back with the reply for the Tongsa penlop. By early evening he was already approaching Nyala Lungma and was looking forward to the rest at the end of his journey. He took comfort in the thought that his wife would be waiting with a good meal and strong ara at his home in Tongsa. There were no human settlements anywhere in the area although he occasionally met one or two people on the way. They were sometimes travelers like himself, herders, or pilgrims. He would greet them and ask them a few questions but never stopped to actually talk with anyone. But today it was different and he had to stop and look carefully. For there was a woman wearing the region’s famous tarichem kira which is a black woolen kira with bands of red and blue. She was bending towards a little stream and washing a basket of meat. A closer look revealed that the basket contained what looked like entrails of some fairly large animal. The woman was completely preoccupied. She had her back towards the road and was bending down towards the water trough and washing the contents of the basket. Carba Lung gi Khorlo wondered how it was possible that in the middle of nowhere there was this woman washing meat. So he asked, “It looks like a big animal. Is your cow herd nearby?” The woman continued to wash the meat and did not turn to answer him. She simply said, “This is not an animal’s entrails. Carba Lung gi Khorlo gave me his life this morning. These are his entrails.” As if in a dream she then disappeared, leaving not a trace of her having ever been there. The emptiness and the silence seemed to envelop him, a shudder ran down his spine, and his skin rose in goose pimples. He seemed to float for the rest of his journey. He had no thoughts or pain, he just felt a lightness in his being.
The conch shell was being blown from the monastery to mark the end of the day as he entered the Tongsa dzong. Darkness had fallen and one could no longer read the lines of the palm of the hand. He felt a sense of calm and satisfaction but there was a sadness that transcended everything. He saw that the tailor had completed stitching a gho that he had cut out in the morning and was folding it. Lung gi Khorlo did not stop to greet anyone, he went straight into the inner chambers of the court and presented the letter of the Wangdi dzongpon to the Tongsa penlop. The penlop seemed to have a trace of a smile on his face and there was perhaps a hint of emotion when he said, “Tubay”. The penlop then pointed to a large bowl of rice on which were placed a generous portions of dried meat and a large roll of butter. A servant stepped out nimbly from behind the gochor or screen in front of the door, picked up the gifts, and indicated to Carba Lung gi Khorlo that the audience was over. The two men then stepped backwards until were behind the gochor and left the penlop to read the letter. Carba Lung gi Khorlo had once again not failed his master. He went home, quietly ate his meal, and followed it with a cup of delicious strong ara. As he ate his meal he calmly related the incident to his wife. After the meal he lay down, asleep and never woke up again.
Anyone traveling the lateral highway across Bhutan has to pass through Nyala Lungma. It is the area between Chendibji and Thumbidrak. It is always dark and always a little damp. There is no abode in the true sense of the word. But the demon lives here somewhere. Once you have heard this legend the place seems almost forbidding. Do stop and remember her, for she appreciates acknowledgment but do not call upon her to do anything. One can never sure; she might just take you seriously.