Aum Zam: Bhutan’s Grandmother, The Nation’s Heartbeat

Every morning, before Thimphu woke up, a young girl quietly swept dust from the Changlimithang basketball court. Few people noticed her then — fewer still could have imagined that this quiet teenager would go on to become one of the most beloved faces in Bhutan.

That girl was Aum Zam — now known across the nation as the grandmother of Bhutanese cinema. Her face, warm and familiar, has brought comfort and depth to hundreds of films and television dramas. But behind her gentle on-screen presence lies a story far greater than fame — a story of quiet strength, silent endurance, and profound humility.

She was born in Geptey, Paro, and spent her early childhood there before moving to Thimphu at just 15. Life was far from easy. After her uncle, who sold vegetables at the market, passed away, Aum Zam was left alone in the capital. With nowhere to go and no one to depend on, she looked for work — not for ambition, but for survival. She found a job as a cleaner at the Changlimithang basketball court, a humble role she embraced fully. This was before the Bhutan Olympic Committee even existed. She became one of its earliest and most dedicated staff members, contributing to its growth with the kind of silent determination that never makes headlines but lays foundations.

Over the years, her devotion to service became a shared mission with her husband, who also joined the BOC. Together, they served the Tsa-Wa-Sum not for recognition, but out of a deep, unwavering sense of duty.

Her path into acting was almost accidental. In 2002, director Dema Wangchuk offered her the role of a grandmother in a TV series titled Lopen (Teacher). She had never acted before, but her performance resonated so deeply with viewers that she became an overnight icon. “I didn’t even know what acting meant,” she said, smiling. “They asked me to act like a grandmother, and I just acted like myself.” That natural authenticity would go on to define her career.

She has since appeared in over 86 officially registered films — and believes that number easily exceeds 200 when including unrecorded appearances and TV series. Her roles became symbolic: not just a grandmother on screen, but the grandmother of the nation’s cinema — someone who carried the quiet emotional backbone of every story she entered.

Her stage name, “Aum Zam,” became known only after she acted in the film Metsey Nyilam Part 2, where she played the role of a grandmother to the lead actress. The name began to spread following that performance, and from then on, she became widely recognized by that name alone.

Even with this fame, Aum Zam never changed. She never saw herself as a celebrity. She still lives near Changlimithang, close to where her journey began. When people asked about the dark birthmark on her eyes — something that often drew curiosity — she always replied with grace, “It’s just something I was born with.”

Today, acting offers still pour in. But she gently declines them all. Her husband, now 90 and physically challenged, needs her care. “I get so many calls from directors and producers,” she shared. “They still want me to act. But now, I have to be here with my husband. He needs me. That’s more important.”

In 2023, both she and her husband were honored with the prestigious Silver Civil Service Medal — a small but meaningful recognition of a lifetime of service and love. Even after their retirement during the COVID-19 pandemic, the Bhutan Olympic Committee continues to support them with monthly salaries as a gesture of gratitude.

Through all of this, Aum Zam remains grounded. “There was never a moment in my career where I fought or argued with anyone. I just did my work quietly,” she said. Her words say everything about who she is.

Her story isn’t just about the number of films she acted in or the years she swept courts and served her country. It is about love, humility, and the kind of power that doesn’t seek the spotlight — but shines quietly through acts of care and commitment. It is a story of a woman who never sought applause, yet earned the deepest kind of respect.

Today, the cameras may rest and the sets may change, but Aum Zam’s legacy lives on — not just as the grandmother of Bhutanese cinema, but as a national treasure. Her life is a reminder that the strongest people often speak the softest, and that true greatness is built not on grand gestures, but on small, consistent acts of love.

Some stories demand to be shouted. Hers only needed to be lived.