Showing posts with label Short Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Story. Show all posts

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.

Fighting Them

For hours, I flipped the pages going deeper through the eyes of Toru Watanabe in Norwegian Wood. I finally gave up to strained eyes and striking midnight. The fatigue easily induced sleep. Long before I could process the thoughts or complain about the nights, I subconsciously slipped into another world. The monsoon and rain, not much to complain.

I woke in the middle of the night by soft knock on the door followed by the bouncing of basketball. Alarmed, I reached for cellphone to check the time ‘Seriously? 1:48am, who the hell is playing basketball at this hour?’ The urge to get out and smack the punk was more than failing heart at that moment.

My ghost walked through bedroom door, main door and verandah door without unlatching a single door. She had a cricket bat clasped tightly. FYI a cricket bat from neighboring kid. Black tights were complimented well by the black boots and leather jacket, a top tied hair and fire in her eyes. The full moon illumination made it picture perfect just like a scene from a movie.

As light as she walked inching closer to them, she never felt stronger in years. The smirk on her lips, determination to teach lesson to those bastards and upright posture almost gave chill to those immature punks. She scanned around to each face and counted the head. As per her quick mental calculation she jumped high, kicked all six of them subsequently and landed with a class. She beat two of them with bat while still kicking and pinning others with her boots. The groans and cries made her to stop beating the shit out of them. She almost beat them again and warned with conviction to never disturb the neighborhood again. They agreed instantly and ran away feebly.

With the triumphant smile and fireworks in the background, she threw the bat in a style and walked as if she owned the night putting shame to the witnessing stars and a moon. Yes, without unlocking, she passed all three doors and came to celebrate with me. She looked radiant glowing with the undisputable confidence.

There she found me cornered at bed, draped in blanket clutching the bed sheet, sweating profusely, holding a pee, prayer beads in hand and chanting ‘Om Ah Hung Benza Guru Pema Siddhi Hung’ thousand times.



Knock*Knock

“Cheche, close the windows and curtains.” Dema shouted from the kitchen.  Dema remembered the weather forecast predicting the powerful windstorm around evening.

“Yaya Ama.” She reluctantly stood up from sofa and her eyes still glued on TV, Cheche went to close the windows.

*Creak* *Creak* the window in altar room was playing a game. Cheche didn’t want to miss her favorite program, Doreomon. She pushed hard outside and pulled inside with full force.

“Careful Cheche, you will break the glass.” Dema’s audible words burrowed her ears.

“It’s not working, Ama.” She shouted back.

Dema came for her rescue. The wuthering sound was growing louder and scarier with passing time.

“Amaaa….”Cheche screeched abruptly hugging Dema, eight year old has been always afraid of the darkness.

“Shh….love…it will be all right.” Dema lit room with her cellphone torch.

“Ama, when is Apa coming home? I am scared.” Cheche asked following Dema while she went to fetch a candle.

“Soon, love.” Dema assured her daughter not letting her own anxiety show. Dogs howled wrecking her nerves. She tried not to be superstitious.

Time and again, she checked her phone and dialed repeatedly on same number. It was disconnected instantly. With the passing time and growing darkness, something inside her was gnawing her alive.

*Knock*Knock*Knock*

“Cheche….stay here. Seems Apa is back.” She hurried to the main door. Opened.

“Who is there?” Her heart sank lower and as she scanned the premises with torchlight.

“Bloody wind.” She tried to reassure herself.

“Ama, where is Apa? Who is at the door?”

“Love…Apa is coming soon. It was the wind slamming on the door.” She hugged her little one.

*Knock*Knock* Knock*

With each knock, she was gripped by fear. She felt heart shrinking in the darkness.  She hugged Cheche firmly.
“Ama, you are choking me.” Cheche whispered.

“Oh..sorry.” she freed her “Do you want to eat now?”

“I will eat with Apa.”

*Knock*Knock*Knock*

No network coverage, total blackout and her man was nowhere to be seen. Dogs howled again, louder this time.

*Knock*Knock*Knock*

“It’s Apa. I will open the door.” Cheche ran before Dema could stop her.

“Where were you, Apa? You know that I am scared of darkness, Ama too.” Cheche complained.

“I thought you wouldn’t come tonight.” Cheche continued.

Relieved, Dema went to set up dining table. She felt safe when her hubby was around. The rice was still warm in the rice cooker. She reheated the curry and boiled water in the kettle. Tshewang drinks abundance of hot water.

“Apa, when will electricity come?” Dema heard, Cheche has always been a daddy’s girl. When people mockingly made her to choose between Dema and Tshewang, Cheche always chose her father without a second thought.

“Ama..look..Apa brought doll of Elsa and Anna I asked last time.” Cheche came running to her. She wiped her hand and turned to Cheche.

A series of expressions played on Dema’s face; confusion, shock, fright and finally her knees gave away. She wobbly fell down, hot boiling kettle splashing on her, it barely made the difference.

“Ama, what happened?” Her daughter rushed; her left hand was as if holding another hand and in right hand, she was holding an imaginary doll she claimed her father bought. Eight year old saw what Dema didn't. But Dema understood what Cheche couldn't.

Short Story: Odds and Even

She cracked her knuckles nervously, while tapping left foot unconsciously on the tiles beneath with her brown boots, her breath was punctuated by a long sigh of agitation, she looked around scanning the faces of a by passer. Her temper at that moment was way away from sweet unlike she is usually being referred. White linen coat barely prevented the chill from getting into her bones. She crossed her arms, occasionally rubbed her palms and blew warm air, puffed red nose and rosy cheeks didn’t hide a slightest fact that she had been out for a long time. Waiting was tedious in cold evening of a harsh winter.

“Fifteen more minutes then I will be gone.” It was the fifth time she said to herself. Who was she fooling? A second stretched to a minute, a minute to an hour and it almost felt like a millennium. Her head scolded her to stand up and walk away but heart begged to stay little more with ‘What if he turns up? He might have a reasonable excuse for being unreasonably late.’ Yet again, a head was in a lost battle with a heart.

She took out phone and dialed a number; she was flatly disconnected time and again. She stood up and walked straight to Memorial Chorten, her favorite place to seek solace. On the way, she dropped him a message stating she is on the way to home. Her feet did walking while her mind was so blankly engrossed in nothing specific. The beep indicated that she got a text. She didn’t bother to check, she was disappointed and disgusted.

Her temptation won as she read the text
Him: I am really sorry. Something urgent came up.  Where did you reach?
Her: In a taxi. (She lied)
Him: Ok. Travel safe. Can we meet tomorrow?
Her: I don’t think so, tight schedule. (She lied again).
Him: Ok. I am really sorry for today.
Her: It’s ok. I didn’t wait much. (She tried to figure out how much is ‘much’ in her perception, more than an hour was definitely not qualified in ‘much’)
Him: Reached?
Her: Almost. (The beautifully illuminated Chorten greeted her with countable head making rounds and she joined them trying to clear her minds off the shits of her life.)
Him: Ok then. Cya.
Her: Yaya. Btw where are you?
Him: Right besides you.

She instinctively turned back; saw him grinning like a fool, waving hand with a cell and closing the gap between then.

“Pretty little liar.” He pinched her nose in a playful manner.

“This is not funny.” she brushed off his hand, least hiding she was miffed with him.

“It was fun watching you all the way.” He was goddamn prankster, she usually found it cute but not at that moment.

“Were you stalking me all the way from park?” her anger rose to the level to match the explosion of volcano.

“I didn’t plan to, mean it. I was there on time. You were sitting on the bench, so engrossed in thoughts. I wanted to see more of your ‘lost in thought’ avatar.”

She made a face of ‘hardly convinced’ one.

“What was going on in your head while waiting for an hour sitting on that particular bench? When you took out the phone and dialed, I had to turn it in a flight mode, else you might have caught me there. ”

“Nothing.” She looked at him curiously, doubting whether he is the one she fought with just yesterday and swore to never see his face just few minutes ago before he appeared behind her like a superman.

“Pretty little liar.” He again pinched her nose, this time she smiled with the subsiding anger.

“What were you thinking when you were watching me from behind?”She asked making rounds.

“I was wondering what were going on your pretty little head.” He smiled and brushed off her head with his gloved hand; she could say that he was in the best mood.

He fetched Cadbury Diary Milk Silk from his jacket pocket and handed over to her. He has a habit of pampering her with chocolate knowing she couldn’t resist the sight of it. They walked in silence knowing that they have things to sort which wouldn’t be best if it was acted on impulse and rashly.

“It is getting late. I gotta go.” She said without looking at him.
“I will walk you home.” He said holding her hand “God! You are freezing.”
“Thanks to you.” She laughed this time.

He took out his left glove, coerced her to wear it, entwined her left with his right and put it in his jacket. Her hand brushed with note in his pocket.

“It is yours. You get to read it when you get back home.”

 She looked at him, falling in love all over again and silently thanking god for this wonderful gift in midst of a chaotic society.

“Your abode my dear. Cya, tomorrow. ” He hugged her tight and placed a light peck on her temple and walks off to his home, whistling with a beaming soul.

“Mom! I am home.” She cheerfully shouted unlike a girl in the morning, which walked out of a house like a zombie.

“Chunu, ajjo ta saro dillo bayo ni.” Her mother said looking at digital wall clock which reads 9:18 pm.

“I had some work at office.” She lied feeling guiltier than ever for having had lie many times in a day.

She sneaked into her room, opened a chit which reads;

Dear  Chunu,
The journey is gonna be rough but I guarantee you a happy ending. Stay strong till then. Remember we are gonna fight till end, no giving up in between because I won’t give up and won’t let you to.
                                                                           Love
                                                                           Tashi


N.B: Excuse my Nepali sentence in the story; I ain’t good with the language. The story turned out too cheesy. ROFL





Wrong Turn!

“What was that, the trailer of wrong turn?” I asked myself.

The merciless slashing of the bodies, the skillful yet swift beheading of men, the floating bodies in angry bloody flood and I was in the isle, injured, at my best to survive.

Then I realized it wasn’t a trailer of Wrong Turn but replica of ‘Bajiroa Mastani’ I watched before I slept.

The gruesome nightmare woke me in the wee hour, the morning cold scolded me to sleep, the mattress begged me to stay, the blanket lured me to embrace it and a mind, a slave of my lazy body almost readily agreed to it when I heard Apa in stern tone “ Woo sho Tshering! hang ya zamin rang mangiwa dabu yebchona.”

“Apa please wai…dasu yephey.” I begged hugging blanket tightly.

“Woosho yegpa na. Wunthan Amchi ga toh tey chos pey rumcho.” Apa said again. I could hear the clinking of utensils from kitchen confirming she needs help in the kitchen.

Wrong turn! I don’t want to disappoint my parents again. I reluctantly but guiltily woke up, promising to be more responsible. Apa is currently doing M.Ed at Paro and Ama, Memey and siblings came from Gelephu Tsachu and we are houseful at Amchi’s place. And it was not the best act to sleep like a log when a fireplace oven demands the log to be fed.


One wrong turn and you are doomed.

Sugar

“Do you want a tea?” my colleague asked.

“Yeah…thanks.” I said continuing to work on estimation and BoQ.

“Hey…put 2 two cubes of sugar.” I added.

“Huh? What happened today, you usually drink tea without sugar?” She asked curiously. When I first joined, she gave me a coffee…too sweet for my liking so I barely touched a cup.

With the passing days and blending atmosphere, I told her that I prefer tea without sugar. She noted that though she forgets sometimes *smile*.

“My life is too sour and bitter these days. I need to bring sweetness in it. So I am thinking of starting by adding sugar in a tea.” I said as a matter of fact but she brushed off by laughing “Oyeee” while handing me a cup of tea.

I sipped from the tapering white colored cup; I grimaced with the taste unable to gulp the concentrated sweetness.

She looked at my face studying the reaction and laughed, “I put three instead, so your life can be sweeter in jiffy.”

I made a face, what kind of; I don’t know…I bet not the pleasant one.

“My fault, I need sweetness in my life not in a tea.” I muttered, barely audible to myself.

< Baby >

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yes, I am.” She said with a beautiful laugh further confusing me.

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows wanting to believe her.

“I mean it.” Yet another laugh escaped from her.

“Ok” sigh “why now?”

“What’s wrong with ‘now’? She particularly stressed ‘now’.

“Seriously? You are 50 now.” I laughed at her face not wanting to believe but wishing she meant every word.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in a serious tone.

“Do you know what are you agreeing to?” I wanted to confirm she really wants this.

“Yes…. I am, with full determination and commitment.” She looks convincing.

“What will people say about it?”

“I don’t care. Wait a minute…. I will say it is your child.” We laughed; it is such a pleasant discussion.

“Hahaa…people will believe it.” I managed to say between vibrating laugh.

“Even if I say it’s mine, people will not believe and will think it’s yours as I am 50 and you are 22.” She made her stand clear.

“No problems as long as you are agreeing to take that child.” I couldn’t help smiling.

“Promise me, you will raise that baby well.” I wanted to ensure the future of a child.

“You have any doubt?” her teasing tone further made me doubt her words.

“Yes…..I am doubtful. You are excellent mother of three. You raised your kids well but here, it is different. Due to personal obligations, her mother is ready to give in safe hand.” I stressed ‘safe’ making sure she gets it.

“Have I mistreated you ever since you are not my child?”

“Come on! It’s different case. I am your sister’s daughter. We are related. There is no question of mistreating me. She is different…a stranger’s daughter, a special baby.”

“What difference will it make? I need a kid around and she needs a mother. Our situation is like a jigsaw puzzle perfectly fitting each other.”

“You are growing old and she is too young. If you need kids around, I am sure you will have your own grandchildren after couple of years. Here, the security and future of that baby girl is in question.” I sounded mature to myself.

The discussion got stuck there with no sign of further movement. I feel for the little life that is unaware of the people weaving her fate; tangling, juggling, tossing and messing with her life. She is a god gifted, a miracle child who deserves the best in the world. And unfortunately, I realized I am not the best choice for her. Forget it…not even close to being good for her.













Walk

The sun hides behind the gloomy cloud depriving the world of its warmth of this cold winter, the chill of winter breezes can be felt despite the layers of clothes on. In the midst of dancing dust, moving vehicles, rushing people, I am one of the heads walking on the streets of the town. Blowing warm air, rubbing my palms together and bringing it on my face, tightening the muffler so there is no room left for air to sneak; I walked straight to the place where I belong. The night announces its arrival too soon, the wind is wilder than I ever experienced, and people are so distant. I focused on the road, careful to avoid bumping with people or potholes on the road. Unconsciously scanning the faces and noticing how different and beautiful each person is; appreciating the beauty, innocence, confidence, style and uniqueness of each individual and imagining how beautiful the world will be, if we know everyone, everywhere or anywhere. The warmth in strangers are yet to reach their eyes, the connection yet to get linked and the welcome yet to feel, but I believe the sun of tomorrow promising new rays of hope. 

As I walk this walk in the crowded street, only assurance is that tomorrow will be better; the sun will be brighter and warmer, dust little calmer, wind little milder and the people more friendly.

I take my cell, plug the earpiece and play the music. Perfectly, Hozier at his best begins singing ‘Someone New’. I get immersed in his song as it perfectly suits the situation

Go take this the wrong way
You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you
Only blue or black days
Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose
Would things be easier if there was a right way
Honey there is no right way
And so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
There's an art to life's distractions
To somehow escape the burning weight
The art of scraping through
Some like to imagine
The darker caress of someone else I guess any thrill will do
Would things be easier
If there was a right way, honey there is no right way
And so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I wake, at the first cringe of morning
And my heart's already sinned
How pure how sweet the love beneath it yeah
You would pray for him
'Cause God knows I fall
In love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day
Love with every stranger, the stranger the better
Love with every stranger, the stranger the better
Love with every stranger, the stranger the better
Love with every stranger, the stranger the better

And so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new
I fall in love just a little ol' little bit
Every day with someone new


Gossip

“There she goes a manipulative gold digger.” A woman in late thirties wearing a floral maxi carrying a blue carry bag retorted. Finely made up and stylishly dressed for her age.

“Oh! Is she the one? No doubt she looks young.” Another compatible woman said thoroughly scrutinizing her through an oversized Ray Ban glass with a disapproved look.

“Heard she is younger than his youngest son.” They went on while pretending to pick necessary items from the rack.

“Tsk tsk…this generation girls! We can never fathom what they are up to. He is old enough as her father.”

“Shhhh…she might hear us.” One with glasses on whispered loudly.

“Heard he funded all her education expanses and all.” It looked like they wanted her to hear everything.

“People should live with class irrespective of bank balance.” A maxi dressed said checking her make up in the mirror on the wall.

“Her circumstances might have forced her to take such a filthy decision. Aeii…she is such a beauty.” She said adjusting her glass.

“What a waste. She might have used her beauty to lure an old man. Instead she could easily work in a movie with face like that.” There was a no indication of stopping this.

“What a big bad world?” they said their favorite line in unison and giggled like a high school girls.

She heard it all. Wasn’t it their intention? On impulse, she wanted to walk out from the grocery but she stayed. After all why should she? She did nothing wrong. She had to hear it all for better or the worst. Trust me, she had been called worse.

Can relationship between a man and woman be ever holier in the eyes of society? Before knowing the inside story, they provide their judgment and seal the verdict.  She has another story to tell, a real one but what’s the use, they will believe what they always wanted to. They just need something to talk while sipping a coffee, walking to home or while hanging out together.

She can’t shut all the mouth but she can close her ear. Indeed it was a big bad world with small mind. Little did world know that while pointing an index finger towards other, rest of the fingers pointed to them.

A Night To Remember



People looked at us when we burst into a bar-cum-karaoke pushing each other and laughing like lunatics.  Our behavior was way away from matured. A group of bulged-bellied men from right corner took a break to scrutinize us before resuming their conversation. Another trio of 20 something guys near the bar blatantly checked each one of us from head to toe.

“Let’s go there.” Namgay said louder than required pointing to table near window.

“…. People fall in love in a mysterious way…” I saw a guy in a red shirt butchering one of my favorite song ‘Thinking Out Loud’ of Ed Sheeran by singing off-scale.

We excused and squeezed ourselves making way to the table. The night was young and we were wild.

“Guys, tell me what you want to drink. I will go and bring.” Phuntsho asked.

“Nah! Birthday boy. We are at your service. We order and serve you while you pay.” Namgay teased him. We laughed really loud.

“Foster for me.”Dorji said.

“Same here.”Phuntsho raised an index finger.

“What about you ladies?” Namgay asked us.

“Takin.” Dechen and Sonam said in unison.

“Amul Kool.” I said.

All of them stared at me as if I was pointing AK-47 at them.

“Come on, Tshering. You are ruining the night. You have to drink tonight, it’s my birthday. And also this is our last gathering together.” Phuntsho almost pleaded.

“I haven’t drunk before. I don’t think I can handle this. Moreover, there should be someone sober to take you guys home when you guys lose your mind.” I tried explaining.

“Everyone try something for the first time. You have to drink else we all are drinking so called your favorite ‘Amul Kool’ to stay cool. I mean it.” My so called dramatic friends emotionally blackmailed me.

“Chill guys. Ok. Fine. I will try, but don’t force me more than I can handle.” I said.

“Ok. 2 Fosters for Phuntsho and Dorji. Takin for three of us. 1 spy for Tshering. That’s it.” Namgay recounted the order and went to the bar counter.

“Bring some snacks and whatever you get there, something ‘spicy’.” Phuntsho shouted from behind.

Service was quick and good there. Not less than a minute, drinks were on our table. Each one us toss and clink the glasses “Cheers to the birthday boy!” and drank. A Spy tasted sweet in the mouth and it wasn’t bad, I mentally registered.

We went to sing our so called engineering anthem ‘Give Me Some Sunshine’ from movie 3 Idiots. 

As tracked played, we sang less and shouted more. The crowd joined us since almost all the people knew the song.

By the time, guys emptied 3 bottles each and girls were on the second bottle. Though I was still stuck with spy, I felt my cheek warming as alcohol was slowing taking control over me.

“Dechen! Look at a guy in a green checked shirt. How do you find him?” Namgay asked.

“He is kinda cool.” Dechen replied while we looked at one of the guys from the trio, to crosscheck what ‘cool’ actually meant.

“O” we said. So cool meant a chiselled and sharp cut face, with unfocused eyes, soft laugh and an overall look of a chocolate boy.

“Agreed. He is checking on you. I will fix you a date with him.” Namgay stood before we could stop her. She is an adamant when she drinks.

“Namgay! Come back.” Dechen shouted in vain.

Namgay turned and mouth “Thank me later dear.”

We laughed and I patted her on the back and said “It’s ok. It’s fun.”

“Fun? Somebody hide me please.” Dechen looked around searching for a place to hide, literally.

We glued our gaze at their table. Namgay dragged a chair from another table, sat behind that guy, leaned towards him and whispered something in his ear. He seemed to register things and replied something in her ear. Then they were laughing, talking and Namgay hitting him on arm occasionally (it’s Namgay’s habit to hit animatedly while talking).

After an almost 15 minutes, which felt like an hour, Namgay returned with her merry go nature.

“Guys, he agreed.” Namgya squeaked.

We clapped and Dechen was literally embarrassed.

“Dechen! You are safe. He has an eye on someone.” Namgay declared.

“Awoo! Who?” we asked.

“Wait! You cheat. You took a chance and fixed a date with him yourself.” Dorji said. I couldn’t help laughing.

“Shut up. First promise me that whoever he chose, that person has to go on a date with him.” Her tone was a dominating one.

“Agreed. Without question.” Phuntsho said.

“Agreed. It will be such a waste not to go out with him.” I said.

“Ok. Ready. No backing off.” Namgay warned us.

“Come on! Don’t play with us, spill it.” Sonam said.

“Phuntsho.” Namgay said.

“Whhhaaaat!” escaped from our mouth at the same time, in the same tone with the same intensity of the shock.

“You are kidding.”Phuntsho said, unable to recover from the shock.

“Wish I was. It broke my heart to learn that he has a thing for boys instead of girls. Wish I was a boy.” She mockingly cursed her bad luck.

Namgay looked and signaled him to come. “You are not doing this to me.” Phuntsho panicked.

We shockingly laughed at a situation.

He introduced himself as Tashi and shook a hand with each of us.

Awkwardly Phuntsho rise, and went for a walk with Tashi on a fully illuminated street of Phuntsholing. Our eyes followed them till they exited from the main entrance.

“So, he has a thing for a boy, huh?” I asked laughingly.

“Not at all. I lied. Sorry, Dechen. He seems to have a little thing for you but I lied to him. I almost pleaded him to go with Phuntsho. I lied that Phunthso is a gay and he was interested in him. As a matter of fact, I told him it’s his birthday tonight. Hell! He freaked out, but finally agreed when I promised him to give a Dechen’s number.” She laughed while we looked at her, horrified.

“Poor Phuntsho! You manipulative prankster.” Sonam said laughingly.

“Poor Tashi.” Dechen said. We raised our eyebrows and laughed in her face.

“It will be a night to remember for him.” Dorji said.

“Correction! It is a night to remember for all of us.” I said.

Indeed, it was. Phuntsho too agreed next day.