We Chose to Tell You

“O poor, unthinking human heart! The error will not go away; logic and reason are slow to penetrate. We cling with both arms to false hope, refusing to believe the weightiest proofs against it, embracing it with all our strength. In the end it escapes, ripping our veins and draining our heart’s blood; until, regaining consciousness, we rush to fall into snares of delusion all over again.” Rabindranth Tagore (from ‘The Postmaster’).

‘Should we tell her or not?’ the violent battle in our mind robs the every piece of peace we had. She will be hurt beyond words if we do, but at least she will know the truth. Initial hurt will eventually subsidize with the time, but fearing the hurt she has to endure with shattering truth, we chose to keep the cat safely in the bag. But masking the truth will also hurt her ultimately when she finds out, she had enough betrayal from the loved one and we can’t let her believe the world isn’t worth trusting. Somewhere down the line there is always somebody who cares about someone. She is not a subject of deception and betrayal. There is a fire on both sides; one end with the devastating truth and beautiful nonexistent fairy castle she built at the other end.

Last time we made a mistake of hiding truth from her, she was more hurt not with the truth, but the fact that we choose to hide from her. If last one was gunfire this time is an atom bomb that will blow her faith completely. She was wounded and sank into a different world of isolation earlier. We had to tell her this time and we promised to stand by her side.

After spilling every truth with the little courage we had, she scanned our faces and smiled weakly. She said it makes sense as there was a connection between what she knew and what we told. She asked when we knew about the truth. Honestly, we said "recently". I said that good things come to an end so better things can take place.

After soaking into a momentary silence, she asked “Does anyone have a very sad movie? I want to watch tonight.” breaking a silence with laughter.

We joined her and were glad that she took it positively like always. She is our rare and brave girl. You have a way to go dear and I know you will be reading it, so want to let you know that we love you beyond words. I could tell you in person, but you know how bad I am with the words, I will freakishly lend up blurting nonsense and stupid.

I wonder, did we do the right thing by telling you? We did what we thought was best for you, but guilt plays a prominent role when you transits into a world of silence. 

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…………………”

Aa-choo!! and Me

Aa-choo!….Aa…choo I couldn’t help myself from sneezing constantly as I type this.Surely yesterday’s college farewell picnic for final year students and the dusty dancing wind had perfectly managed to irritate me with torturous sneeze. Apart from that, many funny memories flooded stealing a grin from me.

’‘Aa-choo!!’ I couldn’t stop the irritating itch I felt in the nose.

“God blessed you!” Cousin said out of habit.

“Akshay Khanna!” Sister teased me. Me and my sister weren’t very fond of this particular Bollywood actor and who ever sneezed was his crazy fan for a while (till we forgot about the sneezing chapter). It was another torture one had to bear apart from sneezing.

I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but I guess I was too young and stupid who even didn’t know the meaning of my own name.

I sneezed in the class and a classmate said “Tshering she.” She actually wished me a long life (Meaning of tshering is long life). Coincidentally, my name is Tshering and I took the direct meaning of it as (you’Tshering’ die ‘she’) which sounded like a curse to me. It was a enough point to demand an explanation why did, she wants my death before breaking down into a feebly sob. All she said was that she heard people saying “Tshering she” whenever somebody sneezes.

I cried whole period questioning myself why people would wish my death. I reached home with the all red and swollen eyes. Mother immediately rushed when she saw me in the state; probably thought I was bullied, being smallest and youngest of the class. My concerned and protective mother asked the reason and I narrated bit by bit incident in between the sobs. Before I was done with all, she laughed real hard figuring the whole story. That day I learned the meaning of my name.

Last winter during the survey work with NHDCL in Samtse, I was done with my data collection and as I was not feeling well that day, my generous team asked me to rest for a while. I seated on a single bamboo bracing of an old garage while waiting for them to complete the task.

“Aa-choo” really loud sneeze escaped followed by another sneeze “Aaachoooooo” By the time I complete it I was on the ground. Feeling little embarrassed over the fact that I have fallen down breaking the bracing while I sneezed, I got up and wiped the dry grasses from the back of my pants. I momentarily scanned the surrounding and thanked god as there was nobody around.

My colleague came out of tenant’s house and asked me “Tshering, are you alright? You fell down on the ground, maena?”

“I am fine.”

I saw our Ata Driver (a lively person) roaring with the laughter when he saw me later accompanied by two colleagues and Kinzang sir.

Kinzang sir said that they were inspecting the houses when he heard a loud thud and later a girl informed him. He imitated the very tone “Uncle! Uncle! Your one sister has fallen down from the garage.” And when he looked outside, he saw me wiping the dusts. They laughed again and this time I joined them despite the pain.

Ata Driver commented that my sneeze is as loud as my laughter. He admitted being scared of my sneeze and strength as would say I have energy to break a garage with a sneeze. 

Aa-choo!! Good-aa-choo!!-night J

 

Image Courtesy : Bing