Page 80 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“Pray we travel without hindrances.”
The next day, the mechanic fixed the bearing later in the evening. At 5:00 pm, we hit the road again.
“Thank God we’re moving,” I said. “We could’ve starved.”
“It’s already dark,” said Bajim. “How far do you think we can travel?”
He was right. The thought of sleeping on the bus, cold and hungry, was a nightmare. So, I peered
through the window. “Hope we won’t stop anywhere. Where are we, Bajim?”
“Bumthang town,” he said, squinting through the glass. “See that gate?”
“Chamkhar,” said an old man from behind. “It’s called Chamkhar, not Bumthang town.”
“I see, Chamkhar,” I said.
The driver pulled over beside a hotel. Others poured out. Bajim and I stayed back.
“It’d make a terrible memory,” I said, “that we had this terrible journey.”
“Relax, Uncle,” said Bajim. “Everything’s in God’s hand.”
“Everything’s in God’s hand?” I scowled at him. “What do you mean?”
The driver craned in through the door. “Aren’t you two checking in?”
“All the hotels are full,” I said. “I think we should sleep on here if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, no! I won’t, but it’s gonna be freezing out here.”
“Don’t worry. We got clothes.”
“Latch the door from inside, okay?”
I nodded. “Thank you, Ata.”
Through his dark skin, Bajim giggled. His teeth gleamed against the streetlight that came in through the
glass. He had a nasty practice of playing pranks. “How sad! Uncle is—”
“Shh,” I said, looking out. “Don’t shout.”
Bajim giggled.
“Is this kind of a joke?” I lunged at him to remind him of the spiteful incident we had back in the
hostel room. “You are enraging me, Bajim. Don’t make fun!”
But Bajim showed no hesitation this time.
“Drat, Bajim,” I got up. “You think it’s funny, huh?”
He giggled more. So, I grabbed his neck and shook so he won’t make fun of such serious things later.
“Please, Uncle,” he said, recoiling. “I am not gonna buy you noodles if you hit me.”
“A what? You mean you got some money?”
He cackled.
“Please tell me. How much you got?”
“Tell you what, I got little.” He rolled down his left sock and pulled out three notes of a hundred
ngultrums. “Here.”
“Wow! Let’s have dinner, please. I am hungry.”
“We will have noodles,” he snapped. “We must save some for tomorrow.”
“Better than starving,” I muttered. “Let’s have noodles.”
Back on the bus, we wore extra jackets and curled up in our seats.

***

The second-year trainees shifted to the senior blocks. The block was old and the rooms were filthy, but
we had to empty the new hostel for the newcomers.
“I am sorry, Uncle,” said Lambu. “I am moving in with Wangchuk this time?”
My heart wrenched. “Which room?”
“The last room of the right-wing.”
“Why with him?”
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