Page 106 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

The next day, my colleagues invited me to a farewell party they had arranged in the ORC, behind the NFE’s
quarter.
“Just a simple farewell party for you, sir,” said Mr. Somgyel.
“I am honored, but I must go,” I said.
“You can’t leave today, sir,” said Mr. Pechen. “You must attend a farewell party.”
I longed to leave the place right away, but I shrugged. “Ok. I’ll come.”
Sad music floated in the air, aided by the chirping of birds around, but it didn’t move me. About ten village girls
ushered me from my place. I sort of blushed to walk like a VIP with them.
“My goodness,” I said as I sat on the guest’s chair. “That was not necessary.”
“Our pleasure, sir,” said Mr. Somgyel. “It’s a simple arrangement.”
“I am honored.”
Students danced in a circle, and village girls performed traditional dances.
“Ara, sir?” said the prettiest girl in the village.
“No, thanks,” I said. “I don’t drink.”
“Serve him bangchang,” said Mr. Pechen. “It’s his favorite.”
“Goodness me,” I exclaimed, blushing, but she poured into a bamboo cup. “I can’t finish it.”
Mr. Tengyel joined the village girls and danced to his full contentment. Students laughed at his jokes. They
guffawed when Mr. Tengyel jumped around, teasing village girls.
After the party, I said. “Thank you, everyone, for making this moment memorable. I won’t forget your
consideration.”
The next morning, students and staff walked me to the school gate. My chest knotted as I turned back and
glanced at the school.
“Well, Mr. Pechen, do your duty well, as always.” I shook his hand. “See you in the distant future.”
“See you, and safe journey, sir,” he said.
“Thanks.” I turned to Mr. Somgyel. “You are my guide and a source of inspiration. I’ve learned a lot from you.
Thank you, sir.” I slogged past him after a warm handshake. “Thank you, Mr. Tengyel, for assisting me with the
school administration.”
He gripped my hand and shook it. “I am sorry for whatever I may have done to you.”
“Forgive me if I ever offended you. See you.” As I shook hands with the students, one after the other, tears
brimmed my eyes. “Study hard, students. Let’s pray we meet.”
Their little faces fell. Some turned away with tears, and a few knelt onto the ground. As I shuffled down the
steps, they sang:
“Majo majo, chhe tsu ghi ko zha mey
Ma… jo... chhe... tsu ghi... ko… zha… mey…”
A surge of crushing pain pierced my heart. I leaned against the tree and wiped the tears. “Gosh, wish I could
walk away.”
“Chhe tsu jo dha lu lay shom bay jo ma ray
Shu… lay… jel wai… melam… yedh...”
Their mellifluous voices resonated through the mountains. The farther I walked, the louder they sang. So, I
propelled without turning back. As I distanced from them, their voices faded away. Before I disappeared into the
dense forest, I turned back to them. They seemed like bustling ants on the hill far away, waving their hands and
shirts.
I waved both my hands. “Adieu!”
At Nganglam, Tshering Zangmo and Pema Dremey invited me for dinner. Over dinner, we conversed about
transportation.
“A friend of mine agreed to transport your things,” said Pema Dremey.
“Thanks for the arrangement,” I said.
“But we can send them after only one week. Revenue & Custom would verify them.”
“I will wait at Thimphu.”
The next day, I started my journey in a truck. I closed my eyes to relish the unimaginable blissful moment of the
rest of my life. “Phew! I am finally relieved!”

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