Page 46 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

A woman said, “Over there.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“You must be a doctor?” she said.
“No, no. We’re paying a visit to my brother,” I said. “He is a health staff here. HA.”
“Oh, really?” she said. “He should be at home.”
“Thanks.”
Sister-in-law opened the door. Her eyebrows arched. “Where are you coming from?”
“From home,” I said.
“Who is it?” asked my brother from inside.
“Dorji Wangdi,” she replied.
“Oh, really?” He came out. “What brings you here?”
“Just thought of visiting you all,” I said.
Early the next morning, we strolled into the immediate vicinity of BHU, brushing our teeth. It was a
perfect morning with a cool breeze. The countryside landscape took my breath away.
The ward was half complete. The construction workers poured in soon. They comprised youths—
mostly girls.
After breakfast, we strolled into the school premises below the construction site. We sat on the ground
and watched the workers schlep up stones to the construction site. After a while, a young girl wobbled up
and rested her bamboo basket on a rock. She glanced at us, so I beckoned to her.
I derived great contentment as I fooled around with girls, but it was a different situation this time. Her
natural elegance beguiled me. She held the basket down and walked toward us. My jaw dropped.
With others, I styled my hair or tucked into the collar of my shirt to show I was spunky. I didn’t care if
my hair—which I hadn’t combed for days—looked fine.
She stood before me. She was lovelier than I saw from the distance. Her dark eyes sparkled. As the
breeze ruffled her glossy hair that had cascaded down her shoulders, she resembled a princess in a fairy
tale.
Mesmerized, I plucked a dainty rose that adorned the garden and offered her. “A beautiful rose for a
beautiful girl.”
Her lips curved. “Thank you.” She tossed her glossy hair and wiggled curvaceous hips back to her
bamboo basket. She carried the basket and schlepped up the path, smelling the rose.
“Wow,” I said. “She’s terrific.”
Darjay glanced at me, curling up his lips. “She is.”
I gaped at her audacity of walking over to me to take the rose. “She is not a countryside girl,” I said.
“Village girls are timid. This girl is far advanced and her dress is fanciful.”
Darjay nodded.
A few days later, I waited for her on her way to the stone quarry. I smiled and waved. “Hi, what’s your
name?”
A secret smile crossed her beautiful face. “Yethrolma.”
“As beautiful as your beautiful face.”
She giggled, hiding away her face.
“You study here?”
“No,” she said.
A huff of a pleasant breath of HAPPYDENT filled the air. And her hair smelled of Clinic shampoo.
“Where”
“Thimphu.”
“Really?” I said. “How come you’re here?”
“My mom lives here,” she said.
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