Encountering the past

On my way home I see students in colourful uniforms, chattering away, it must be exam time because the fragments of their conversation almost always involves….“Hey how did your paper go?” … “Not very good, I hope I make it through” or I see segments of what looks like question paper shredded into pieces all over the sidewalk….some poor student definitely did have a very bad, never-ending 3 hours in some cold hall.

I remember being there, having done that, it is strange but I can still taste that fear of result day, of wanting so much to have done well, but that gut sinking feeling that you could possibly be staying back in the same grade. “Oh God what will I do if I fail, all the kids will laugh at me…and my parents, they will be disappointed in me, I wonder if Dad will cane me?..” Oh I totally do remember the feeling.

Today I see these young faces and the past come flashing in multicolour. In them I still see the same hope, the same dream and the same desire to know what the future holds in store. They have the spirit to conquer the world and the innocence to believe that they can do it. How I envy that innocence, that spirit to keep going in the face of adversity.

It never fails to strike me as I walk pass them that they are my past and that I am their future. In a few years time they will be where I am, doing what I do and maybe even wondering what I wonder. It is half a circle of that full circle, one day when I am quite old I will walk pass a young officer and think “hey I have been through that….I

Made in Heaven?

“Thuji, oyaaaaaa….,Thuji. Tashi just arrived”

The girl picking chillies looked up, happiness radiating her pretty face. It was her aunt Pema announcing the arrival of her husband. Thuji hurriedly picked up the basket of chillies and joined her aunt on the outskirt of the field.

“When did he arrive? Wasn’t he due tomorrow Ani Pema?”

“Yes” came the prompt reply, Thuji waited for the usual teasing from her aunt which almost always followed her husband's arrival but none came. A look at the older woman’s face showed a frown marking the already wrinkled brow. Something was troubling her Ani.

Worried Thuji asked, “Ani what’s wrong? Is Tashi hurt?

“Don’t just stand there and ask stupid questions, let’s go,” Was the uninformative answer.

They hurried home, the usual ten minutes walk seemed like hundreds of miles and all the while every awful possibility crossed her mind, was he hurt? No! He would have been in the hospital in that case? Did he get thrown out of his job? No! Tashi was hard working and well liked by his boss, he said that himself. What else could have happened?

On the brighter side she thought, maybe he wants to take with him to Thimphu and Ani is just upset because there is no one else to look after the cattle and do household chores. On that note she noticed that they had reached home. Putting her basket beside the door she walked in to find Tashi sitting cross-legged on the patch work mattress, a pot of steaming suja before him.

“Tashi” she heaved a sign of relief to find him sitting there so obviously unhurt and sat down beside him, all of a sudden shy and tongue-tied. They sat that way for endless minutes before he cleared his throat.

“Thuji, there is something I have to tell you.” He sounded different, “I don’t know how to say this….”

Suddenly she sensed something was terribly wrong, she didn’t want to hear what he had to say, wanted to shut out his voice, willed her self to retreat into the cocoon within.

“Thuji, I want a divorce, I am in love with a colleague from the office.” He voice sounded far away.

With that one sentence she felt her dream of a home; kids and pets come crashing down. She wanted to rant and rave about his unfaithfulness. How could he do this to her? Didn’t she take care of his old parents and their farm aside from her own parents’ farm, stretching herself thin in the process, so that he could complete his Engineering course? Wasn’t it she who dropped her education at the 10th standard even though she had been a promising student just so that he could continue his without worrying about his old parents? Where was that other woman then? How could he do these? Well it didn’t matter now, did it? None of the sacrifices mattered; Tashi’s declaration had put a full stop to it. In the end it boiled down to the fact that after 9 years of marriage, he had fallen out of love with her. Maybe he had never loved her in the first place and had married her just as a means to his own end.

“Thuji…………” Tashi’s voice brought her out of the whirlwind of thoughts.

“Go back to her.” Even as she said it, emptiness clutched at her heart. Calmly she walked out of the door; head held high, she needed some fresh air. Once outside she hardly noticed the cold, chilly air. The sun had gone down. It was going to be a dark starless night.

Life’s Miracle

I walk slowly through the park, it is just after rain and the ground smells divine. The spring fragrance and children’s laughter fill the air. It’s a gorgeous day and I know that I just have to close my eyes and extend my hands to feel his presence. If I close my eyes I can hear his infectious laughter, see his lips curve into that sweetly crooked smile and feel the warmth of his hands in mine. He is always there with me just like he promised that day.

“Mom, who is going to take care of you?”

I look into his soft brown beautiful eyes and say, “Why sweetheart we are going to take care of each other.”

“No silly, I mean when I am gone”, he breaks into laughter, the sound tucks at my heart and I try hard not to give into tears and force a smile.

“Why don’t you take a nap dear and when you wake up we can go to the park”, I don’t want him to see my tears, “You would you like that, won’t you?”

“Oh can we do that mom? and can we get ice creams too?”

“Yes dear, all the ice creams you can eat.”

I tuck him in, a mammoth task, every time he closes his eyes I can’t get over the actuality of him never opening them again. That thought kills me. I turn down the lights and am at the door when he whispers “Mom, why do people die?”

I stand there for what seems like a million years contemplating an answer, how do I explain the complications of life and death to an eight year old, especially when I don’t have the faintest idea. I sit on the edge of his bed and take his hands into mine, his hands feel so small in mine, pale and tiny yet I also feel the strength of life in them.

“People die so that they can become angels and watch over the ones they love.”

He contemplates that statement, “Is Daddy an angel too?” I laugh out loud and he joins in. “Actually your Dad was more of a devil,” we laugh some more at that feeble attempt of a joke. “I am going to be an Angle and look after you always,” he declares with determination. That was a promise made 10 years ago.

“Moommmy”… that shakes me out of my reverie, I look up to see my five year old daughter on the swing, her father is hovering close by like an anxious mother hen, and catching my gaze winks. As I run towards them, I can not believe how lucky I have gotten. People may call it hogwash but I believe it’s the magic of a child’s innocent promise to his mother. A miracle of my beautiful son, my angle.