Page 142 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“How did the operation go?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” said Chojay. “I didn’t even ask.”
“Okay, I will ask the doctor.”
At the counter, I asked the on-duty doctor to explain the procedure of surgery. He read the file and said it was
successful. I waited for the orthodontist, but he didn’t turn up that evening. So, I returned to the lodge and
discussed the journey with others. We went to a travel agent behind the lodge and reserved our tickets.
The next morning, Chojey came to the lodge with her patient. “The surgeon discharged her. But she must go for
dressing.”
“How’s that possible?” I said, mouth wide open. “She was operated on just yesterday.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But the surgeon discharged her.”
“Sorry, we bought our train tickets,” I said.
She lowered her eyes. “Really? I thought we would return home together.”
“Don’t worry,” said Choki. “You can come with others. Many Bhutanese return home every day.”
She nodded.
The reporting time was 5:00 am, IST. We had booked three rickshaws for Katpadi station. So, they arrived at
3:00 am.
I woke all the travel mates. “Rickshaw! Rickshaw!”
Twenty minutes later, we moved to Katpadi Station. The train arrived after half an hour. We had to be quick
with our things. Two ace coolies helped us with our luggage. Soon after we settled in our seats, the train pulled out
of the station.
At the crack of the dawn, my stomach rumbled. “I am hungry,” I said.
The lady arthritis patient, opposite to our seat, opened her steel tiffin and said, “It’s fried beef. I cooked it
yesterday.”
It emitted a lip-smacking aroma. The smell of garlic and ginger watered my mouth. So, I ate them ravenously.
One hour later, my tummy rumbled, and I felt light-headed. I groaned with gastritis soon. Recurrently, I flinched
and winced, pressing my tummy.
“What’s the matter?” asked Choki. “You look pale.”
“Food poisoning, I suppose.”
“How? You have taken nothing since last night.”
I winked at her and whispered, “I had beef, remember?”
She glared at me. “You’re a glutton.” She poured out hot water from the thermal flask she had brought from the
lodge. “Take it. It should subside your gastritis.”
Throughout the journey, I lay in my bunk. The train hooted and trotted along the track, day and night. I ate less
and slept more. I wished our journey could end, but it seemed to take forever.
It was 3:00 am when we alighted at Alipur Railway Station. The travel mates helped me get off the train. We lay
on the cement at the platform until the dawn broke.
And we booked a 9-seater Bolero taxi. I slumbered all along the way, but the pain often woke me. Others chatted
and laughed. A renal patient man from Bumthang talked about kidney problems. I was eager to listen, but gastritis
surpassed my eagerness.
“Get up, Apa,” said Choki. “We’ve arrived at Phuentsholing. How’s your gastritis?”
“Bit better,” I said.
The renal patient collected the fare and handed it over to the cabbie. Some checked into hotels and some said
they would go to their relatives’. Choki and I went to Phuntsho’s place. Seeing my condition, Phuntsho said I should
rest for a few days. So, we stayed there that day. Over breakfast the next morning, my phone rang.
“I am Chojey,” she said. “We are at Phuentsholing.”
My jaw dropped. “Chojay? No way! How come?”
“We want to go with you. We’re at the gate.”
“Wait, I am coming.” I picked the car key from the table and said, “It’s Chojey. Get ready, Ama.”
I picked them from the gate. At the roadside, near Phuntsho’s house, Choki arranged their luggage in the
hatchback.
Along the way, I stopped and barfed, but gastritis wouldn’t subside. At the fall of dusk, we arrived at Chuzom.
About fifteen minutes later, I took the road to the nunnery at Sisina.
“Here you are, Chojay,” I said. “Your home.”
Four innocent little nuns frolicked out. The youngest one jumped into Chokjey’s arms. Chojey cuddled her.
“Are these your friends?” I asked.
“Yes, Ata,” she said. “We all come from a similar background.”

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