Page 155 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“Um, Galing Printing Press,” I said. “It’s behind the pediatric ward.”
“Are you sure you want to try it selling?”
“There is no harm trying.”
The next day, I went to Galing Printing Press with the handwritten manuscript.
“Yes?” said a bulbous man on a rotating chair. “Come in, please.”
“Proprietor?” I said.
He nodded.
“I have a story for sale. You would want to see it.”
“What kind of story?”
“It’s a wonderful story, sir. About an orphan boy.”
He went through the synopsis. “It is touching, but we don’t buy the copyrights. Why don’t you self-
publish it?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you can publish on your own. We can print books as per your order at an affordable rate, but
you must sell the books yourself. How many copies do you want?”
“I don’t have money,” I said. “I… I am selling it to accrue expenses for my baby’s treatment.”
“Don’t worry about the payment. You can pay whatever you have.”
“I have twenty-seven thousand only.”
“That will do,” he said, “but pay the balance after you sell them. Do you have a soft copy?”
“I haven’t yet done it.”
“You must type. And when you are done, come with the soft copy.”
“Sure. I need some time, sir.”
As I slogged down to the taxi stand, I thought about the edition. “Now who will edit the manuscript?
Oh, the chief editor of Bhutan Observer! I think I should ask him.” I headed for the Bhutan Observer
building at the end of the avenue. The office was on the third floor. A young girl was at the front desk.
“Excuse me?” I said. “Where is the chief editor’s office?”
“Straight left.”
“Excuse me, sir?” I said, knocking on the door.
“What a pleasant surprise.” He showed me the chair. “What brings you here, Dorji?”
I sank into the chair. “I wanted to ask you a favor, sir. I have a manuscript to edit.”
“I am kind-of-busy these days,” he said. “Anyway, what is it about?”
“A story about an orphan, suffering at his tender age.”
“Do you have a soft copy of it?”
“No, sir,” I said, “but I got this.” I handed him the manuscript. “Please have a look at it.”
He skimmed through the pages and said, “I need the soft copy.”
“It will take some time,” I said. “I must type it.”
“Take your own time,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, pushing the chair under the table. “How much will you charge?”
He thought over it. “Whatever you give.”
“I would pay ten thousand after selling some copies. And five thousand, you should give me some
time.”
“I trust you.”
“Deal done!”
Straightaway, I went to school to see the principal. He wasn’t in the office as it was Saturday afternoon.
So, I went to his quarter. I climbed up the wooden stairs and knocked on the door. His daughter opened
it.
“Sir?” I asked.
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