Page 64 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“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?”
“Um, he wants to move in with me. Sorry, buddy.”
“I can understand that. Happy stay, man.”
In the evening, Bajim and Master, too, moved away.
Watching them move out, I said, “With friends like you, who needs enemies?”
During the summer vacation, I stayed back in the hostel with Bajim and Palden. But there was a problem.
Without trainees, the contractor stopped the mess.
“You know what?” said Palden. “The contractor has locked the kitchen now.”
Bajim scratched his head. “What should we do? Any suggestions?”
“Wish someone would lend us money,” I said.
Palden stroked his goatee slothfully. “Poor me.”
“Okay, now what?” I said. “Let’s do something.”
“How about asking a lecturer?” said Palden. “One of them might lend us.”

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