Page 18 - FATE & DESTINY
P. 18
FATE & DESTINY
I winced and lumbered up the stairs in tears. “Enough of your scaremongering, you beast,” I said in a
whisper.
***
This skinny boy had his eyes popping out of the shrunken socket. He was dark but affable and fun-
loving. Every evening, he slouched to my place, his hands thrust in the faded jeans pockets. Radhey Shyam
was his full name, and he was from Cooch Behar, India. I called him Shyam. We spent our time, chatting
and laughing. When he laughed, Shyam’s husky voice echoed across the room.
One winter, he left for his hometown and returned after two and a half months. “Hey, buddy,” he said.
“Haven’t seen you for a while, how’re you doing?”
“I am doing good here,” I said, shifting away to the edge of the bench, “I went to my village to help my
grandparents. How’s everybody at home, buddy?”
“I, too, visited my grandparents,” he said.
“Oh, really?” I said. “How are they doing?”
His eyes glimmered. “Fine, but my father is a real bitch.”
“Did you say your father a bitch?”
“Yeah, he is a bitch… a real devil!” He gnashed his teeth. “He tortures us every day.”
“Why?”
“No idea, but he tortures everyone at home,” he said. “Wish he dies soon.”
“Don’t curse your dad, Shyam,” I said. “Life is ephemeral.”
“Seriously,” he said. “I abhor him.”
“How could you say that?” I said. “You will regret it, buddy.”
His glowering eyes showed no regret. “I won’t.”
I shook my head for his obscene behavior.
***
Mongar town was a beehive of activity. People paced around the street, looking for fresh vegetables.
Feeling bored, I stalked down to the gate. The majestic snow-capped mountains in the distance brought
peace to my mind. As the breeze ruffled my hair, weirdness crept up on me. “Oops, this life sucks.” I
turned back for home, but something in a heap of garbage, below the road, caught my attention. I traipsed
closer and squinted at it. “A ten-ngultrum note?” I pulled it out and held up against the sun rays. “Wow,
today is my day.” I grinned and dusted it.
“What is that?” asked Jaga from behind.
I hid the note behind my back and stepped back. “Nothing.”
“Something is in your hand,” he said. “Show me or else...”
“It’s just a—”
“A note?” He said, pouting his lips. “How much?”
“Ten.”
“Ten?” he said and scurried away. “Wait right here.”
But I would not wait for something not good. So I ran home and latched the door and peeped through
the window to see if Jaga was following me. He lived next door. Callous and shrewd by blood, he
interfered with others in their affairs.
Heart thudding in my chest, I leaned against the door and peeped through the interstice. “Only if he
doesn’t take my money.”
But he knocked on the door. “Hey buddy, open the door.”
18