Until some years ago, the very name ‘Dorokha’ conjured visions of a far-away God-forsaken land hidden in the mist of roaring Amochu strung between Haa at the northern end and Samtse in the south. Devoid of motor-road facility, absence of secure bridges over fuming rivers, bereft of proper communication links with the world outside, disadvantaged in myriad ways, life in those scattered hamlets was anything but comfortable. Dorokha smelt as much mystery as it held vital history.
These unrelenting odds notwithstanding, the Drungkhag formed the primary lifeline between our national capital and the world beyond and the fertile valleys and villages were a boon for agriculture farming, livestock rearing, horticulture production, and a variety of pastoral livelihood practices that supported the local communities whose lives were simple and expectations minimal.
As the circumference of my little universe began to expand thanks to the opportunities provided by the royal government that lured a stubborn school-shy village-boy into classroom, I began to discover some of the real treasures of our unpretentious communities in the midst of much that was rather unsavoury.
In my many travels across the length and breadth of our beautiful country, I have seen the best of Bhutan in some of the most remote and unlikely homes and hamlets where the essence of our culture manifests itself in the normal life and everyday conduct of our simple fellow-citizens.
Some individuals shine as distinctive icons and keep the communities together. They play their role by doing. Some make vital contributions just by being. Yet others carry the community along both by being and doing. Their motivation comes from right thought and a native impulse to engage their God-given humanity to be of service to other human beings, and not from a need for recognition or show of heraldry.
Such beings are a rare blessing to the society – they embody the received wisdom of their culture and history; they are a vital point of reference for the community on all important matters that affect the collective life of its members; they are the go-to persons for fair mediation and just decisions; they are the revered role models and conscience-keepers of the community.
Sadly, we realise their value only when they are gone from us. A society without wise patriarchs or gracious matriarchs to moderate maverick impulses runs the risk of unravelling in the face of rapid change and unrelenting urge to move on.
Today, when I look at my own village, I am struck by the presence of many wise elders who shone bright and radiated their light that all could see and know that it would be there regardless of the circumstances that life could pit one against – a beacon calling the stranded to harbour, a voice of validation, a source of strength.
Late Mr Mani Raj Rai, for one, triumphed over obvious adversities and illumined the world that is our little Dorokha.
He rose like the wholesome lotus from the murky waters of forlorn Dorokha and stood tall and upright – physically and morally – as a rare specimen of human flourishing that geographical isolation and social hurdles could neither deter nor defeat. His native goodness and noble virtues set him apart as a blessing to the people and the place that he embraced with genuine love and pure intent.
Here was an embodiment of generational wisdom and voice of sanity that anchored all and united everyone. He was our point of reference, the go-to elder, our grand old patriarch who had goodwill for all and prejudice towards none. His mind was a great leveller and his heart a pious healer, besides being a veritable encyclopaedia of cultural knowledge with a deep understanding of the country’s policies and priorities.
With the passing away of our 88-year-old revered Mr Rai in the tender hours of June 4, 2025 at the Jigme Dorji Wangchuck National Referral Hospital, following a prolonged battle with multiple ailments, Dorokha is poorer by the loss of an exceptional member, a father-figure, and an all-embracing soul.
The youngest son of the popular German Mandal, late Mr Mani Raj Rai served several terms as our Gup as well as our ideal representative in the erstwhile National Assembly of Bhutan and carried out his responsibilities with exemplary grace and integrity throughout.
Following his retirement from a long and distinguished public service engagement, industrious and indefatigable Mr Rai, often called Sippa Mondal, invested his entrepreneurial skills and progressive ideas into developing the highly prized Dorokha Orange brand by enlisting and supporting like-minded individuals, like his trusted partner Haet Babai, and turned our mandarin fruits into much sought-after juicy gold, thus pioneering the export of Bhutan’s dollar-earning oranges to Bangladesh.
During Mr Rai’s active businessman days, Dorokha Drungkhag reached its high point in orange production marked by expansive orchards on both flanks of Amochu and beyond, interminable caravans of mandarin-ferrying horses, ever-expanding network of fruit depots at Dham Dhoom, and endless convoys of loaded trucks bound for Bangladesh. What the Drungkhag carried on its back was a different story.
We were even inspired to organise the first-ever week-long, inter-gewog Orange Festival in 2009 as a happy consequence of the hard-work of motivated elders like the late Gup and his contemporaries.
Every stakeholder involved in any enterprise loved to work with Mr Rai because of his incorruptible dealings, rare honesty, and vast experience in the field. Goodwill, honour and trust were his defining traits.
As a deeply caring and compassionate being, late Mr Rai would take hordes of disadvantaged village children under his wings and enrol them into school and look after their needs and that of anybody who came to him for support, besides securing the well-being of his own multi-generational family under one roof. Positive by nature, generous by spirit, Mr Rai reached out to the vulnerable and the weak and gave unconditionally to important social, religious and humanitarian causes whenever a need arose.
Some moments live on… Etched in my memory are the images of our travels to Samtse after the summer holidays through leech-plagued, bear-infested, rain-battered foggy Sekha route as our parents escorted us to school. Strong, brave and water-tested, Mr Rai fought the choppy currents, built a makeshift bamboo bridge with fellow-travellers and delivered us safely across fuming Dham Dhoom in the early 1970s.
Over the years, it was always a special privilege and joy for me to call on my doting elder and share some moments together during my visits home. In recent years, Mr Rai was mostly home-bound but whenever I made a call to him, he would immediately recognise my voice and endearingly ask Kaila Bhai hoina?
I will always treasure the inspiring presence and exemplary leadership of our beloved patriarch and his exceptional qualities as a noble human being besides our sacred spiritual-sibling relationship that grew deeper and dearer over the decades.
The sage elder’s absence will forever be felt in our hearts even as the empty nest will never be filled……a
Thakur S Powdyel
Former Minister of Education.
