THE PHANTOM FOXES

"To defile a deity's abode means certain death, slow and excruciating death; after weeks of unimaginable pain and suffering. Keep them happy and you shall be blessed with prosperous and healthy life" These are the words my my late grandfather told me when I was a kid. Little did I know that I would experience it and my tale will be told to many more generations to affirm the existence of local deities.

For every village and valley, there will be a protective deity. They are believed to be the protector of the village and people conduct annual rites to appease them for a bountiful harvest. They are believed to be very beneficial if appeased but if they are provoked they can wreak havoc by means of famine, drought and other diseases. 

These local deities are believed to be very sensitive to pollutants like the smells of burning garbage, cigarettes and even burning meats. In fear of untimely rain and uneventful death of domestic animals, villagers take utmost care not to upset their local deities. This means, no smoking near the mountains, no burning of garbages and no littering of the places where these local deities are believed to reside.

Like most villages in Bhutan we also have a local deity called Phola. We have a mountain to the north of our village, particularly assigned and protected as his abode. 

I grew up in a small village called Pangshing under Tang Gewog, Bumthang. It is located about 26 KM away from Chamkhar town and it is a pretty small village with about 14 households. 

In our village, people are deeply religious and highly superstitious. They believe a realm of deities and Nagas coexist with us and must take great care not to offend them.

We depends on potato as the main cash crop but we grow all types of crops; barley, bitter buckwheat, sweet buckwheat, wheat, rice and all sorts of vegetables. Like everyone else, my parents are farmers too. 

Being a farmer is physically arduous but it is spiritually and mentally fulfilling profession. My parents are the most humble and generous individuals I have ever known. They sacrificed everything to send me to school and get a job. 

After 16 years of education, I was pretty lost, both in morality and in profession. But I had a passion for photography. I saved whatever I could, working as a Assistant Administrator for a small private firm in Thimphu, and bought a small camera. Before leaving my job to pursue my passion as a photographer, I went to seek the blessings of my parents back in Bumthang.

It was during peak summer. The valley was lush and green. As the taxi made the final turn into my village, a wave of nostalgia and gushy emotions flooded me. I never felt more at peace than that moment. 

That night I broke the news that I want to become a freelance photographer. Although clueless about the modality of being a photographe, my parents were happy that I am doing something I love. They were happy as long as I am happy. Dad was a little skeptical about how I will earn and make a living out of it but he was happy none the less.

People in our village reared cattles in huge numbers to help with domestic labor like ploughing. So, most houses would have around more than 7 or 8 cattle, in each herd about 5 will be bulls. People rarely depends on milk here.

Every morning, I woke up early to help my parents with the cattles and as an "urban dweller" they gave me the task to look after the cattles, a task that is usually given to older people and young school kids. 

Although a bit embarrassing, I loved it because it gave me an opportunity to smoke quietly in the forest and take some pictures too. Every morning I would take the cattles up in the forest to graze and leave them there. I would go back later in the evening to get it back. I always took my camera and took pictures of birds and animals that I saw in the forest.

My village is bordered with thick forest on all the angles. So, it is pretty common to find, wild boars and deers. If you are lucky, you might even see a pack of Asian wild dogs called locally as Ashang Gomchen (a reference to their orange hued fur) and Himalayan moon bears. And in rare cases, you might even see foxes.

On the third morning, it was drizzling and the roads were muddy. I hesitated to take the camera but took it anyway. I took an umbrella, wore my rain boots and drove cattle up towards a thick jungle where we believe the local deity resides. After walking for about 20 minutes, we reached the edge of a thick forest. I let them graze there, went under a tree and started to smoke my cigarette.

The rain began to pour incessantly. As the last of the cattles went to seek shelter in the shade of the tree, I saw two foxes dancing and playing in the middle of the small clearing where the cattles were grazing few minutes ago. They were about 30 meters away from where I was standing.

The foxes looked incredibly beautiful. The back is brownish and the rest of the body is brightly colored orange. They also had some white stripes below their neck. One is slightly bigger, which I deduced to be the male. I watched in awe as they danced in the rain.

I slowly took my camera out and before I could take a shot, the saw me and ran into the forest. I kept my camera down and before long, the fox once again emerged and kept staring at me from the edge of the forest. I looked at it for sometime and just as I raised my camera it darted away into the forest.

This happened for couple of times. After few more times, I could hear the fox but they didn't emerge out of the thicket. So, I slowly crept towards the noise. I could see their brightly colored fur through the tree. I raised my camera and was able to capture few pictures. 

Once again, they noticed me and ran away further into the jungle. I followed them into the forest, the tree sparse and I could see them running ahead of me. But because of the rain, I was never able to get a good picture. 

Soon, I decided to leave when one of them emerged and looked at me, as if daring me to take their photo, if I can. So, I took shelter under a big pine tree and waited for them to emerge again. But never they came out, but I can hear them. So, I crept towards the noise but as soon as they saw me, they would run away. 

The rain was getting heavier and it is getting harder to see. I was bit hungry and tired. By this time I was thick into the forest. I can hear the foxes playing and cackling. I took a short nap and woke up to smell wet fur. I slowly opened my eyes and there at the end of my feet were the two breathtaking foxes, no larger than a 5 month old German shepherd puppy, staring at me with curious eyes. Before I could do anything, they dashed away.

Now, more determined than ever to take their picture, I followed them. I could see their bright fur through the trees. I lost track of time in their pursuit. I was so focused on taking their picture when someone clapsed my shoulder. 

I turned to see my dad with a worried look in his face. I was shocked to find few more men from the village rushing towards me, barely able to catch their breath.

"What's wrong Dad?" I asked.

"Are you ok?" He asked me with a worried look.

One man began to shout, "Tshering is here. He is okay. We found him."

More men began to rush towards us, all huffing and panting. They all looked at me with worry and wonder.

"What are you guys doing? You guys scared the foxes away?" I asked, bit annoyed at their intervention.

They all kept quiet and looked at each other. Not one men was able to utter a word. I was getting restless and confused too.

"What's wrong?" I enquired. "You guys are acting as if you have seen a ghost." I exclaimed.

"Are you ok Tshering? Another man asked.

By then, some 14 men have gathered around me. I realised that I was scooped up in pine leaves, half of my body buried. 

My dad stepped forward and with a teary eye, he said " You went missing for a week. We thought we lost you. We were preparing for your funeral rites and rituals."

I looked at them, confused and even more dreaded. I thought I was just there for few hours. Has it been a week? Really? What has happened? 

I later learned that, they came to cut poles for prayer flags and saw a guy moving around in the forest and eventually caught up to me. They formed search parties and searched for me for the whole week in vain, just when all hopes were lost, they found me.

P.S. The narrator got better and still works as a photographer. The picture of the foxes he took that day turned out to be just some blurry images of trees and ferns that resembles nothing like foxes.