Page 61 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“Tshomo?” she said.
“Yeah, Tshomo. Where is she?”
“She left the hotel a few weeks ago,” she said. “Why?”
“Okay, thanks, nothing,” I said and stalked out back to the hotel.
Back in the room, Baggio said, “What happened, Uncle?”
“She left the hotel.”
“Why?”
“No idea.”
“I would arrange one if you are looking for a waitress.”
“Don’t insult me,” I said, rolling up the blanket over my head. “Tshomo was too beautiful to be a
waitress.”
The next morning, I peeped through the glass. Willow trees along the streets had shed their leaves.
Their branches were burdened with thick snow. National flags fluttered above the door of each shop, even
in its stark winter state.
“How far is Phuentsholing from here, Baggio?” I said.
“I have no idea,” he said, “but it’s a long journey.”
“Eight hours by bus,” said Jigwang.
“Hell no,” I said. “It’s gonna be a terrible journey.”
After breakfast, we boarded the bus. From Lungtenzampa, the bus maneuvered many curves. One hour
later, we arrived at a checkpoint.
“Where are we, Baggio?” I said.
“Chhuzom,” said Jigwang.
“And where does that road take us to?” I said, pointing at the road at the other end of the bridge.
“That road?” said Jigwang, projecting his head out the window. “Paro.”
A sudden twinge of pain pierced my heart. “Paro?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t been there,” he said. “I heard it takes thirty minutes from here.”
“Only thirty minutes?” I explained, holding my chest. “Under the aegis of God, hope you’re fine.”
“Who?” Jigwang said.
“Nothing.”
Mr. Tashi returned and switched the ignition on. He put on the tape and music floated across the bus:

“Lha thosa gangi pchito kha,
Gang kelbai khawa chhag nu lo.
Nga Singye dhikhar khorsong ba,
Khaw thridung nyimai zhuda nu.
Aiii Singye nga…”

It reminded me of the happy memories of Yethrolma. An ache started deep in my stomach. And my
heart sank when I realized we couldn’t see anymore. So, I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes.
In the evening, the bus stopped beside a school. I felt the warm air waft across my feet. The vegetation
has changed and the surrounding looked scruffy and dusty.
“It’s Phuentsholing Junior High School,” said Coach. “Follow me, boys. We are moving in.” He got the
key from the caretaker and opened the classroom behind the kitchen. “This is your room for the rest of
the days.”
At 7:00 pm, there was a long bell. The caretaker shuffled along the porch, shouting, “Dinner! Dinner!”
Students from other schools were in a long queue at the kitchen door. The menu consisted mainly of
potatoes, my favorite. The next day, Coach took us to the football ground. It was sandy.
61