Page 38 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“Not in this life,” I said, trying to conceal my sentiments. “But we’re gonna meet soon, won’t we?”
Silence floated around us for a while, except for the breeze that ruffled the leaves above us.
“I hope so,” she said. “Let’s pray.”
I gave her hair a gentle stroke and said, “You can count on me.”
She sniffled. “Why did you come into my life? I can’t believe you are leaving after all the folks have come to
know about us.”
After a momentary silence, I said, “I am not deserting you.”
“Do you believe in fate?”
“I do. Why?”
“Hope it doesn’t separate us.”
“It won’t,” I said. “Believe me.”
She nodded and stared away at the distant horizon the sun was setting.
“Give me your address,” I said. “I am gonna write to you.”
She handed me a wee slip of paper. “I am gonna wait for your letter.”
The dusk crawled in and her mom shouted her name. “Yethrolma!”
She fidgeted and got up. “Bye.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I will keep in touch with you.”
She pecked my cheeks and said, “God, don’t tear us apart, please. Safe journey”
I gave her a last hug. “Thanks. Bye.”
As she disappeared into the twilight, I wondered if such moments would ever come in our intangible future.
Early the next morning, I set off for home. “Bye, everyone,” I said.
“Safe journey,” said my brother. “Don’t forget to phone us.”
“I will. See you soon.”
Before I went behind the mountain, I cast a final glance over the places Yethrolma and I had chatted. Everything
looked bleak; even the trees—which swayed in the gentle breeze—looked lifeless.
I shifted my teary eyes to the huge house that stood in the cornfield. Smoke rose from the roofs into the fresh
morning sky, but not a soul moved around. Strange bitter feelings gnawed the chord of my heart.
“Would I see her in the distant future?” I muttered as my eyes brimmed with tears.

***

My behavior and attitude took a great transformation. I was no more an introverted boy. Seniority stimulated me,
but I never affianced in unruly behavior. My friends and I flirted with girls, especially Datshey. He was huge with a
slightly hunched back. We would go from one classroom to another during recess and lunch break.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce myself,” I said, elevating on my toes. “I am Uncle, and I am in quest of
Aunty. Any girls here willing?”
Datshey would chuckle behind me.
“He is Datshey, with the same mission,” I continued. “Anybody willing to be his love?”
Boys would laugh, and girls would frown at us. So, we would go to the other classes and repeat the trend.
But homework would irk me as I was unintellectual. So, I would copy most works from Apala, the class topper.
“You should stop it,” said Apala, one day. “It’s unfair to copy someone’s work. I won’t give my book to anyone
now.”
“Please, I beg of you, Apala,” I said. “Mr. RP Singh would kill me if he checked my exercise book.”
He shook his head. “As if I care.”
“Please, Apala.”
He blinked at me for a while. “Okay, don’t you expect next time.”
“I won’t.”
But I would ask him for his notebook every morning. He would reluctantly give me. Our obligations and terms
never ended. And Mr. RP Singh caned on our palms every day for solving wrong equations on the chalkboard.
As girls commuted from the hostel to the classroom, boys would wait at the entrance, grooming hair.
One morning, a tall girl walked past us. She gave me a furtive glance. Her facial expression held a crisp beauty,
highlighted by her rosy cheeks. That added splendor to her graceful figure. And her eyes glistened in the beams of
sunlight.
“Aunty,” blurted Datshey “Uncle got Aunty!”
Everybody shouted, clapping. “Aunty! Aunty! Aunty!”
She turned back. “Who? Me? Oh, God!” She scurried away. “No way.”
“What are you up to?” I said. “Don’t tease girls.”

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