Losing a Son

Will I ever know the pain of a father losing a son at his prime adolescence? I might understand but can never feel his pain. Seeing him broken makes me feel that the god has been little harsh this time by taking the son; leaving pain and despair for family. The fact that they couldn’t even get his remains aggravate the loss. The real loss, no one really saw it coming.

One unfortunate day, a father gets call from unknown number informing that his son has been washed away by the river, and the search team has been sent to retrieve a ‘body’. Numb with the news, the choice of word ‘body’ pricks his sense with the possible truth that his son is no longer alive. Wails from home reverberated in the valley, gathered crowd couldn’t lessen the pain. While the mother and daughter cries their heart out, father scold them that their son is still alive, praying it to be true. Who was he trying to fool, them or his every broken pieces? He tried his best to stand firm, it broke us to see him crying like a baby while pretending to wash his face. He couldn’t even grieve openly, that’s how men usually are.

His son has kept everything intact at home, with the promise to return home. A promise he failed to keep; he specifically ask his mother to keep his favorite Chelsea jersey, it is still hanging on wall while ‘buray gho’ they have ordered for his graduation is still lying in the cupboard. He is gone too soon to be true, a father says. Had he known that he will be gone this soon, he wished he hugged him tight during his last departure and said how much he loves him.

They couldn’t even get to see the body to say a proper farewell. The alienation and desolation speaks a volume about his loss. His smile no longer reaches his eyes. Time was supposed to fill and heal the loss, however with every passing day, the burden of losing a son seems to weigh him down; gnawing from inside as his bone are projecting outside.

Whenever, someone calls ‘Dorji’, he turns back to see the person and always wish him to be his son. The undeniable hope and then despair is visible to whole universe, longing for his son continues. We might forget with the time but will he? I think there should have been proper closure for them to say goodbye to each other.

Result

Sob sob…I heard an intangible sob on the other end of the phone.

“What happen, Sonam?” a protective and concerned sister in me spoke.

“I got a semester back.” I gathered the paused words she managed to speak in between in sobs. Failing is definitely not great news. Hiding a little disappointment in me and after a moment of preparation of speech in mind, I repeated “It may not be true. Did you confirm it? It’s ok. Where are you? Office…Just don’t cry in the office.” I couldn’t imagine colleagues staring at a crying intern in the office.

She asked me to check online on her college website. A worst fear was confirmed when her roll no. was punched in the command box. She failed in three modules out of six with a verdict of fail written in capital letter. I punched another roll no. randomly and when screen displayed result.

“Your friend Miss X failed in all modules and I am glad that you managed to pass in three papers.” I could hear a little laugh mixed with sob.

“Apa will scold me.” I heard a terror in her voice.

“Don’t worry. I will tell him and I am sure he will understand. “ I told her unsure of myself.

Every child is scared of revealing a result to parents especially a failure, we were not exception. The fact that we siblings have not failed before aggravate the situation. Though they may not have mentioned, I know that parents have great expectation from us

“Do you want to tell me now?” I asked.

“No!” she screamed.

“Ok. I will tell him after I get my results. I am also scared but I think I will manage to pass with one or two reassessments.”

“Ok.” I heard a sob again.

“It’s ok dear. It’s not a big deal. One of my friends failed twice.” I made a blunt attempt to make her feel good by telling that she is not a first to get a semester back.

Four days passed since her results were out and I still haven’t talked with parents. My results weren’t out. I was restlessly apprehensive and a dream of flying downwards was escalating a worst fear in me.

I was in a shower when Sonam Choden banged a door, “Tshering result out dewa, we are the only two with reassessment (RA) in DCS- II.”

“What DCS-II, only two of us?” I shouted back.

“Yes, only two of us. I don’t feel like studying in vacation.” She said.

My heart sank with disappointment as I didn’t expect to get RA in DCS-II. I didn’t perform that well in ECT, so I asked “Me neither. I didn’t bring any books. Better report early to the college and study. What about ECT?”

“All passed in ECT.”

“OK. I will rinse my hair and come out soon.”

“Tshering……” Sonam screeched.

“What?” in an irritated tone I answered.

“We passed without any RA.” She cheered.

“Wait ok. I will kill you.” I meant it when I said.

The fact I passed clean didn’t wash away the tension building inside. I had a task to tell the news of sister’s result.

After rehearsing for several times, I dialed apa’s number and conversed “Apa…how are you? I am fine. Yes, I am staying with friends in Chukha. 6 weeks, I will come home after that. Where are you? What are you doing at school? Today is Sunday. Oh..at farewell party of a teacher. Ok…result is out and I passed without any RA. Yaya….call me back when you are home. I have something to tell you. Yaya.” I couldn’t tell then as I didn’t want to ruin his mood.

I called ama and told about my results. She asked about sister, after few seconds of silence I told her “Ama…Sonam failed this semester.”

“Is Daza fine? “Was ama’s first question. There was neither scolding nor disappointment in her voice but a concerned about the well being of a sister.

I couldn’t hide from ama that little sister was distracted, worried and scared. Then only, mother figured out why Sonam was avoiding call from her. She asked me to console and tell her not to worry. Mother will be always mother, the well being of the children always come first. I was fool to make ama worry unnecessarily; I could have skipped crying in the office part.

I had to explain the wheel of academic of RUB to her.

“So, Sonam will not go college for next six months. I will talk with Apa. Tell Daza not to worry much and eat well. “ Ama asked.

When I talked with sister yesterday, she was laughing that Apa told her that he failed when he was in class four but also he never gave up. I love the way how Apa wittily conveyed a message to Sonam. Hopefully, Sonam seemed to understand what Apa meant. Apa has always been like that always joking and making us laugh. Ama is bit serious and reserved. We were worried with the false presumptions that they will scold us for failure. They never did, they always support us.

Source: Google Image

That's Him

“Sonam! Sonam! That’s him.” A girl in a light pink dress said.

“Who, who?” Sonam, probably her friend asked.

“That guy in white coat wearing a red checked shirt from inside. See he is going upstairs now.” She assisted her friend in identifying.

I checked the mail on the phone while waiting.

“He is cute and handsome.” Sonam dreamily said.

I am not much of eavesdropper, but I couldn’t help as I was sitting in the same bench with them in the hospital, waiting.

“Looks can be deceiving dear. He is a total player.” A girl replied.

“Hmm…looks like a cute doctor broke somebody’s heart. Is it your heart he played with, Kezang?” Sonam teased.

“No.” Kezang replied a bit harshly.

It seems a sensitive subject for Kezang. May be her friend Sonam sensed that too as she dropped the subject.

I searched earphones in handbag to listen some music. Looks like I had to wait some more and I have no interest to listen gossips.

“Look that player is coming again.” Kezang blurted rather angrily.

I couldn’t help but look at the guy they were referring.

“Him?” I raised my brows in confusion. Surely, it evokes my curiosity and intended to listen full story. 

“What happened, Kezang? You surely know him well.” Sonam was not ready to leave the matter easily.

“I didn’t meet him personally, but I know him.” Kezang replied.

“You are not really making sense.” Sonam said, little frustrated.

“He is my cousin sister’s ex now. A few months back, she narrated that they were in love each other and he is good…blah…blah…blah. “Kezang stopped.

“So what happened?” Sonam asked my question.

“We went shopping and my cousin was ghost stricken when she saw him. Yeah, I didn’t know the guy who was going ahead of us were him, shamelessly holding another girl’s hand and acting like a Romeo.”

“Can you believe him? He wooed my cousin until she said yes and it wasn’t even a month, he got fed up and started going with others.” Kazang said with a pinch of hatred.

“So?” Sonam asked, getting intrigued by the story.

“I saw cousin crying over the betrayal. He called many times over, but she simply broke up with him. He didn’t ask the reason behind, maybe he knew it.” She narrated.

I scanned the corridor and saw him coming.

“Look, he is making way to us, masking an innocent smile and preying girls. He is a total womanizer.” There was so much hatred in Kezang.

He stopped before us.

“Tshering, let’s go now.” He said.I collected papers and shouldered the bag.

“Brother, you go first. I have an urgent call to make. I will catch you shortly.” I said.

“Ok. Don’t be late.” He walked away.

I looked at the girls who were ghost stricken now. Sonam was unconsciously pinching Kezang.

“Are you sure it’s him?” I asked Kezang.

Both the girls fidgeted. I walked smiling.

In the car, “Brother, you really are popular.”

“Am I?” he smiled rather proudly.

“Yes, you are but as a villain.” I laughed at him.

While he drove home, I laughed at him over and over. 

So Under Which Category Do You Fall?

2:17 pm

The wall clock above the whiteboard proudly displayed. Still 43m to go. Two hours block period right after heavy lunch isn’t easy both for students and lecturer. Thank god! Sir Tshewang Lhendup informed that he will be discussing the solution of a recent term test question after completing the questions we were solving.

Sir began writing on the board. I, in vain search the test paper by flipping my notebook and design codes before finally giving up. There was something written on the board which wasn’t the solution of test paper. He might have noticed students battling to keep their eyes open as he wrote;

Great people discuss ideas,

Average people discuss events,

And small people discuss people.

“So under which category do you fall? Does anyone here discuss ideas?” he asked. As always, silence replied him.

“May be ideas like how to cheat in the exam.” his statement earned giggles from the class this time.

He read lines from the board and said that he read those lines from somewhere in the morning. “We Bhutanese rarely discusses ideas. If we were discussing ideas, we wouldn’t be too dependent on neighboring countries.”

 He pointed that starting from the pen we are writing to the gho he is wearing is imported. Everything here is imported. He wittily expressed his concern for nation “hope this dependency of importing stuffs from other country won’t export us from our own country.”

“People here usually discuss people; who is dating whom? How big and expensive car is he/she driving? Who is cheating their spouse in the absence? That person is corrupted or she/he is behind the bars? What is he/she wearing? Who is who? Something like that.”

As he continued “Some discuss events such as a party, but at the end they lend up discussing people. But they rarely discuss ideas. An idea which can change a life, but nobody bothers to discuss.”

He said that people juggle their conversations from events to people and people to people only. Wouldn’t it be amazing to discuss ideas and concrete it?  

He asked again “So under which category do you fall? This is a thought for a day.”

“Now back to term test question…………………”

A Messy Day

“Hey! Wait for me. ” I shouted to my friend while hurriedly gathered the necessary items for the class. I locked the room and checked the time, there were still 10 minutes left, with the relief and assurance of reaching class on time, I doubled my speed to catch the friends.

‘Damn it.’ I cursed myself. In speedy action I forgot to bring a calculator, without which I wouldn’t be allowed to enter the class, even if I did, when the tutor finds out I will be chased out of the class with the scalding scolding. If I go back to the hostel, there is no way I can make to the class on time, a minute late and marked absent for a period. ‘Oh! God can’t you make things a little simpler.’

‘Take it easy’ I tried to calm myself and saw the angry rush of air released from the nostril. A day was a mess from the beginning. Woke up and found out only half an hour left to get ready for the class, rushed to the bathroom and forgot to take toothpaste, raced back to the room to get it. Had to compromise with the god with a brief prayer and quick offering of water, hope god will forgive me. I busily replayed the action with the cursing murmur while going back to the hostel.

Something hard blocked my way, a stairway to hell (hostel) I realized. My right ankle got twisted outward, with the realization I tried to firm my grip on the ground, but in dismay, I fell hard on the ground with the loud bang. ‘Ala!” an exasperate moan escaped from me, I swallowed a lump of my own saliva to block the tears which threatened to come out of my eyes.

Saw the blood oozing from my right palm; which happened in defense to support the whole weight of the body had landed on the sharp edge rock which didn’t miss the chances to pierce my palm.

It wasn’t blood on the palm that claimed my attention, but the constriction of pain in the right ankle. Sighing out, I tried in vain to get up. ‘You must be kidding; I can’t sprain my ankle at the moment.’ I muttered to myself. ‘You already did’ my inner voice replied, adding an irritation.

“Sonam! Come here.” I shouted desperately as I saw my friend of electrical department who was going to the boys hostel.

“Why?” he replied bluntly.

“I need your help. I have sprained my leg.” I shouted.

“Stop kidding. I have class at 9 and I need to print lab manual.” He shouted back.

“Fine, thank you.” I replied with the pinch of sarcasm. I again cursed myself for not being serious all the time. When something serious happened in reality, nobody believes because I have been joking around all the time.

I pulled weighing right leg and made my way to the kitchen. I need to meet cook uncle to set it in the normal position. *sighhhh****

“What happened, Ashim?” a sweet voice asked me.

“I sprained my leg.” I pathetically answered to first year girl.

Instantly she lent her shoulder to support me. With the relief I thanked her.

“Where are you going, Ashim? Wouldn’t it better if we go to college infirmary?” she asked.

“Hmm… I am going to the kitchen to meet one of the cook uncles. He kind of takes care of sprain and fracture cases of college.” I explained sounding little foolish to myself.

“Don’t you have classes?” I asked with the guilt.

“I had but it is called off lo.” She replied with the grin.

‘Oh’ I shifted my weight lightly from her shoulder.

It felt like years before we reach to the kitchen and she hastily went in search of cook. Cook uncle came hurriedly wiping his hand in red pattern apron and inspected my ankle immediately. And said it is a minor one.

I felt the slicing pain as cook uncle took my ankle in his hand and shook in left and right direction. I closed my eyes to shun the increasing pain and tighten my fingers to tight fist ball. I felt the nerves in the neck projecting distinctly outward as I gritted my teeth to stop from choking from the pain.

“Take it easy and relax. In a minute, you will be fine.” I heard cook uncle assuring me. My ankle was gently being inspected, but suddenly he accelerated the speed and twisted left with full force. A chirping scream escaped from me and felt the wetness on the cheek.

“It’s done.” Cook uncle informed me. I reluctantly opened my eyes with the sense of embarrassment still hanging around and saw first year girl holding my hand. I shifted my gaze to right and found my cousin and friend Sonam standing in front of me.

“I am really sorry, Tshering. I thought you were joking.” He sounded sincere.

“It’s ok. Don’t you guys have classes?” I asked.

“I have practical class after lunch only.” My cousin replied.

“I have next in 15 minutes.” Sonam answered.

“Thank you Sonam. I am fine, you can go to class. What about you, sister?” I addressed to beautiful girl inside and out.

“I too have next class.” She replied with hesitation.

“Thank you so much dear. You can go to class.”

“Are you sure, Ashim?” She asked me with genuine concern.

“Yeah! Absolutely. My cousin will take me to college infirmary to plaster and to do further checkup. Thank you.” I answered with the smile.

They went hurriedly, I thanked cook and we proceeded to infirmary with the snail’s pace. On the way, I heard the constant ringing of the gong for the next period.

“OHHHH…WAIT…WAIT…WAIT” we have bell system only in school not in colleges. Suddenly the sound of bell boomed louder and louder…I instinctively put my both hands in ear to protect my eardrum from bursting. It grew it irritating with passing seconds compelling me to open my eyes.

‘What!’ I inspect the environment in confusion. I was in my bed cuddling in a very odd position with left thumb nail piercing the right ankle and it was a dawn. An alarm clock on the mobile again ringed. I stopped it and checked the time. It reads boldly ‘6:05 am’. So ‘I was dreaming!’ I grinned sheepishly.

‘A dream so real’ I muttered while getting up.

Battling the Night

On 16/9/2013

With the creepy feeling and suffocating with heat, I woke up and check the time and it was 2:09am. To get a better access of the slow-motion fan of maximum turned speed, I planned to sleep on the floor with the assistance of the thin bed sheet. I was about to sleep when roommate said “Tshering, toilet jo gay.” We went and came back.

I was about to sleep on the floor when she suggested that I can sleep on her bed and she will sleep on my bed with my friend (by the way I had a friend who came for a sleepover). Liking the idea of not having to sleep on the merciless hard floor, I lay on her bed.

I closed my eyes and felt little unusual sleeping on the other’s bed but without caring I tried to get sleep. Sleep seems miles away and my mind started wandering all around and finally got stagnated on the movie I watched on Saturday (The Conjuring (2013) -latest horror movie.) The movie wasn’t that scary but realistic and relatable with the daily happenings.

I crossed my fingers and scolded myself to think something pleasant. At some extent I succeeded but again the images from the movie started popping out. I tossed left and right with the hope that I will be able to fall sleep with the change of direction. I was about to drift into the little subconscious state when I heard a loud bang on the door. I got alert with the shudder.

Mastering the every ounce of my courage (I believe there wasn’t much left), I woke up to inspect what is happening. I switch on the light and found that we haven’t latched the door (we because I don’t remember who came last after going to the toilet). I latched it and made my bed on the floor and slept near them (even two meter distance seem very far).

I laid on the floor, saw cupboard at the diagonal edge of the room triggering the scene from the ‘The Conjuring’ where the ghost jump from the cupboard and attacked the victim. I held my breath, closed my eyes and tried to divert my thoughts. To despair, hallucinated the shadows moving and heard the clear crack of the door and heard clear footsteps in the corridor (I knew someone was going to the toilet at that moment but…..)

I moved to my bedside and without trying to wake my friend I held her hand, being a light sleeper, she woke and asked “Hang awa ya?” (“What happened?”).  “Menang ophu mala, young kheyna. Gadang gae” (I am scared and I can’t sleep, give me your hand.) I answered. She dozed off after giving hand. I held it tight as if promising to never let it go.

Holding a hand definitely helped me but sleep was far away. It was useless, so I stopped fighting and let my mind wander in the desired direction. I don’t know how long I stayed like that (seemed pretty long), my friend Sonam waked and asked “Oma bu ma yeb chin mo?” and I said no.

I thought of calling mother but I discarded the idea as I wasn’t a child anymore. My thought shifted to the similar incident when I was in class 10, I couldn’t sleep that night. I pinched my little sister who was sleeping with me to make her wake up, she flinched but it was futile relying on her. I called “Ama, Ama…oh Ama” who was sleeping in the adjacent room. “Hang ya?” she answered, “Menang ophu mala.” I said. “Baza guru drang ne yebcho.” I chanted holy mantra and tried to get sleep for a while but it was hopeless. After some time, I again called mother and this time she came to my room and slept next to me. She asked what happened and I said I am not able to sleep as someone had died in the locality. She asked me to think something pleasant and try to get some sleep. She hugged me, I believe it was magic of mother’s love as I slept shortly after that.

I missed mother and wished she was here with me at that moment, with a sigh I pretended that she was here hugging me tight and asking me to sleep. Assuring me that she is always there for me, I knew morning wasn’t that far but finally I dozed off. Shortly after, I felt it was that not more than 10 minutes or more, I again the heard constant knock on the door.  Reluctantly I woke up and opened the door and saw my friend next door asking us to wake up. They woke up but I slept on my bed and my roommate said “Tshering wake up, we have morning assembly today.” To my rescue, my friend Sonam said “Let her sleep, she slept in the early morning only.”  Thanking her mentally I slept again.

At 7:00 am sharp I woke up and sighed “Thank God” It’s over, the longest night with the shortest sleep and promised ‘No More Horror Movies’.