Page 34 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

On my way back home, at the dusk fall, I saw a boy standing in front of a shop. He looked right, left,
and all directions as if he waited for someone. The awful football incident haunted me, but the worried
face of the boy outside concerned me more.
“Hope someone came to pick him up,” I said to myself. “What if nobody came for him? Um, that’s not
my concern. Leave it.” But his weather-beaten face flashed before my eyes. So, I crept out of bed to check
it out.
He had curled up on the bench.
“Hey, young man?” I said.
He did not move.
I nudged his shoulder. “You hear me?”
He looked up.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Want to go with me?”
He nodded.
“Come, follow me.”
He got up and shuffled after me.
Inside, I warmed the leftover rice and served him. “Here, you are. Please take.”
He shoveled all. Licking the fingers, he gave me a wide grin.
“Want to sleep?”
He nodded.
I spread a mattress Dad had sutured with his own hands. “Sleep here.”
When I woke at dawn, my guest was gone. “Oh, no! Where did he go?” I jumped out of the bed and
scurried out. At the crack of dawn, only dogs moved. He was nowhere. “I didn’t even ask his name, how
funny?”
A week later, the football fans talked about the selected football players. It was like players were signing
a contract for a club. But I shunned away from the groups talking about it.
“Are you selected, Uncle?” asked Cheytu, a bulbous guy who played on defense.
“I have no idea,” I said. “I didn’t check.”
“Why not, buddy?” He held my hand. “Come, let’s check it out.”
“No buddy, I am not interested.”
“Come on, man.”
The boys pushed and shoved as they tried to get close to the noticeboard. I hesitated, but Cheytu
jostled our way to the noticeboard.
“How come Uncle got selected?” said Norbu.
I tiptoed away, straight for the classroom.
In the afternoon, Ata Karma Dorji, a defender of A-Team, said, “Congrats, Jr.! You are selected for the
B-Team.”
I nodded. “Yes, Ata. Cheytu told me that, but I quit.”
“Why?”
“I want to quit.”
“You can’t be serious, are you?”
“I mean it,” I said. “I am not a good player.”
“You are a good goalie. You can’t quit.”
“I don’t think so. Everybody blames and makes fun of it.”
“Don’t get dissuaded,” he said in a firm tone. “People will blame and make fun, but you shouldn’t mind
them.”
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