Page 71 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

It sent shivers down my spine. “Oh, hell! No way!”
“It was a cold-blooded murder.”
I held my chest and glanced around. “How many kids? All dead?”
“Ten.”
I hung on for dear life in the strained silence, turning back to see if other vehicles trailed us. Not a soul moved,
not even birds. Turning back to the old man, I said, “Do you think they would be around here now?”
“Maybe,” he said, looking around. “They camp in the dense woods like this.”
“Wish I hadn’t come,” I said to myself. “Ken-cho-sum kheno!”
The truck rumbled up the deeply-rutted road. I gripped the rope and glanced around to see if goons were
ambushing us.
“You look so scared,” said the old man. “We’re almost home. Relax now.”
I gulped. “Is Nganglam safe?”
“Nganglam?” he said, ducking from the overlapping branches. “The town’s closed for security reasons.”
“You mean insurgents exist in Nganglam?”
“Yeah, but no intimidation so far. They rove the town even during the daytime.”
“Heaven save me,” I said. “I am in hell now.”
In the distant mountains, roofs glimmered against the evening sun. It was a sign of civilization.
“Is that Nganglam?”
“Yes.”
I sighed in relief. “Phew! How far from here?”
“About five miles but it takes time.”
We rumbled up the decrepit road for another one hour. The vegetation changed. The densely-rooted trees, up
along the foothills, thinned out. The dust-covered leaves became fresher and greener. We drove along the paved
road to the border-gate. The soldiers in the watchtowers and bunkers brought me immense relief.
“Finally,” said the old man.
The driver rolled down the glass and passed over the documents to a policeman.
“Five hours to cover thirty miles?” I uttered, glancing at my watch. “I wish I hadn’t come to this place.”
“What’s the big deal?” said Parshu. “We can do it.”
I shook my head in consternation.
From there, it took five miles to the Nganglam town. The school was above the road and the truck entered the
school gate. It stopped beside the dining hall. A man was passing by.
“Excuse me?” I said. “I am a new teacher. Where should I put up tonight? Any empty rooms or a guest room
here?”
“The office assistant would show you the room,” he said.
“Where does he stay?”
He pointed at the two-story wooden structure behind the dining hall. “That house.”
I knocked on the door.
A thin man opened the door. “What a pleasant surprise, Uncle.”
“Goodness me, Pema Rinzin?” I said, giving him a handshake. “Long time no see. How’re you, man?”
“Fine, how come you’re here?”
“I am placed here.”
“Really? How was your journey?”
“The road is horrible. I am exhausted.”
“Haha… you all must be hungry. I’ll prepare you dinner.”
“Yeah, we’re hungry.”
Early the next morning, Parshu Ram and Tashi Tshering left for their school. Mr. Pema Rinzin and I escorted
them to the endpoint of the road.
While returning to our place, I glanced around the ghost town. “Is the street always empty, Pema?”
“Yeah, except for the office-goers, people stay indoors.”
“Because of the Indian insurgents?”
“Yes,” he said. “It sucks.”
“But they don’t harm our people, do they?”
“Not till now, but they pose a great threat to our national security.”
“Why wouldn’t they return to their land?”
Weeks later, I shifted away to a cottage next to the kaput bridge for Nu. 500 a month. The walls were painted
red, and it had four beautiful rooms. The ground shook, and the broken planks on the bridge creaked and squeaked

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