Page 46 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“Give him ten minutes,” said Chidden.
“Come, please.” I led them through the dimly-lit entrance. “Mind your steps. It’s dark.” I headed straight for the
kitchen and lit the kerosene stove.
After tea, I whispered, “Chidden, send Aunty here.”
“Please go,” said Chidden, pushing away Nyingthenma.
I dragged her to the far end of the entrance. “I am sorry, please. That was the greatest mistake I made in my life.”
Her body trembled to control her sobs. When she couldn’t, she leaned against the wall and sniffled.
I dragged her and slapped her on her face. “Oh, God? I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I cuddled her and pecked on
her cheeks.
“It didn’t, your evil deeds hurt me.” Wiping tears, she continued, “I think I am getting late. Excuse me, please.”
“I am sorry, Nyingthenma,” I said, slogging after her. “Please forgive me.”
“Thank you,” said Chidden, scurrying after Nyingthenma. “See, you next time.”
I held my chest as I watched them disappear behind the door. “What should I do? She’s leaving tomorrow.”
I couldn’t go to sleep that night. My mind filled with deep regrets. Early the next day, I went to the dorm to see
her off. Nyingthenma and Chidden were ferrying their luggage to the car from the dorm. I helped them.
Nyingthenma sat at the window side. As the driver switched the ignition on, I stood by her window and attached my
palms like a supplicant. “I am sorry.”
Nyingthenma stared through the windshield. As the chauffeur drove away, she said, “It’s okay.”
The car garnered its momentum and barreled down the road, and through the gate.
In the evening, Baggio came to my place. He smelled of alcohol. “Sorry to know about it, buddy,” he said.
“I am desperate today,” I said. “Let’s go to a bar.”
He staggered to the door and turned back. “Come, let’s go.”
We sneaked into an underground bar in the heart of the town.
“What do you want to take, Uncle?” he said.
“A bottle of beer, please.”
“Why not rum?”
“I don’t do hard drinks. Just enough to drown my worst nightmare.”
After two bottles of eagle beer, I said, “Baggio, a few packs of rum, please.”
“It’s enough,” he said. “You are already drunk as a skunk.”
“Please,” I said, staggering up to the counter. “Two packs of rum, please.” I gulped down in a draught. “Baggio,
let’s go to the Dzong.”
They would hold a fete near the Dzong during Annual Tshechu.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Yahoo.”
As we staggered along the road, I removed my shirt and screamed. “Yahoo!”
“Easy, buddy,” whispered Baggio. “Keep your dignity.”
“Dignity?” I said. “Where is my dignity?” I slapped my chest. “Tell me, where the hell is my dignity? Go to hell,
Aunty!”
“Stop it, Uncle,” said Baggio. “Dasho Thrimpon’s car.”
“Hold on, why are you running away?”
He scurried away into the bush.
“You dumbass—”
The white Prado’s deeper darted my face. “Hey, put that darn light of your car off my eyes!”
The driver flashed the light.
I gritted my teeth and picked a stone. “I said put the darn light off.”
The engine of the Prado cranked and moved away.
“Baggiooo!” I called at the top of my voice. “Where the hell are you? Come out!”
I staggered up the path to Dzong. Baggio wasn’t there. So, I looked for him inside the canteen. “Pemnor,
Where’s Baggio?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“What?” I said. “You should have kept a close watch on him.”
“I am not his bodyguard,” he said, gawking at me from the counter.
“Who said you’re his bodyguard?”
Slap!
Ap Tshewangla came out from the kitchen and glared at me. “What’s going on?”
Pemnor rubbed his cheek and said, “He slapped me!”
“Hey kid,” said Ap Tshewangla, pointing his ladle at me. “Watch your hands.”
“Drat, you spoilt brat,” said Pemnor’s mom from behind.

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