Thousands brave the chill to celebrate National Day at Changlimithang Stadium

Yangyel Lhaden

The sun blazed brilliantly over Changlimithang Stadium yesterday, thawing frigid limbs and infusing weary bodies with warmth and vigour after a night spent enduring the piercing winter chill.

Anticipation began early. By 5 PM the previous day, eager attendees had already queued up, hoping to secure the best spot in the stadium. As the gates to the stadium opened at 9PM, the line had snaked all the way to the National Memorial Chorten—a meandering human chain of absolute determination. And within hours, the stadium was packed to capacity.

Families came prepared, lugging bags stuffed with blankets, food, and flasks of tea. Yet, in the crush of the crowd—the jostling, pushing, and scrambling—some comforts were lost.

A shattered thermos spilled precious tea onto the frosty ground, steam vanishing uselessly into the night.

The cold was relentless, making food hard to stomach, and sleep impossible.

Utchi, 78, from Ramjar, Trashigang pointed to her family’s packed lunch, now cold and uneaten. “Look, we could not even eat it,” she said. “It was so, so cold yesterday. But today, the bright sun has filled us back with warmth and energy. This is my first time coming to National Day in Thimphu in person.”

Among the brave souls battling the cold was Pema Choden, a spirited 10-year-old. She had relentlessly persuaded her mother to take her to the National Day celebration. She had coaxed her mother with her childish, yet quite profound, wisdom. “We will die one day, so we have to at least go to the National Day once before we die—to see Their Majesties in person.”

Her mother, a vegetable vendor, returned home late that night to find Pema Choden already dressed in her kira—ready and waiting. Her mother hesitated but agreed. “It is already 9 PM. If we get seats, we will stay. If not, we will come back,” she had told Pema Choden.

Pema’s mother and her friend’s families set out, only to find the line snaking all the way to Memorial Chorten. But they did not turn back. Determined, they joined the crowd and inched forward through the night, finally securing a spot inside the stadium.

To keep spirits high and bodies warm, steaming porridge was served twice—at 2AM and again at 5AM.

As the night stretched on, Bhutanese films played on large screens while performers filled the hours with music. Voices rose in unison to sing “Palden Drukpa Gyalo”, the anthem echoing into the cold night air.

Shivering bodies yet unyielding spirits, a stadium full of people battled the cold together, their resolve burning bright through the long, frigid hours.

Pema Choden’s excitement never wavered. “The cold did not bother me,” she said. “I was too excited.”

Thousands of volunteers, including police officers and desuups, worked tirelessly throughout the night to manage the crowd and ensure the celebration went smoothly. Among them was Karma Dorji Drukpa, a Desuup who had been on duty since 7PM, the previous evening.

He and his nyamros had not slept at all, yet his enthusiasm had not faded. “I am very happy to serve the people of Pelden Drukpa during this auspicious National Day,” he said. “It is also a privilege to see His Majesty and hear his speech today.”

During the celebrations, Pema Choden pointed eagerly to performers she recognised—familiar faces from the entertainment industry. And when His Majesty the Fourth King passed right beside her, her eyes lit up.  “So close,” she whispered, still in awe. I have never seen His Majesty the Fourth King in real life. It feels surreal.”

While thousands braved the biting cold in Thimphu, similar celebrations unfolded across the country and among Bhutanese communities abroad.

For some, it was their first time experiencing the National Day in person—one filled with awe and endurance. For others, it was tradition. Every year, many face the same hardship, driven by the same unshakable spirit, just to be part of this day—just to witness history unfold and honour their love for the nation.