Of past

Of those times

When unicorns were alive

In the narration;

When the rumbling of sky meant war

Between god and devils;

When collection of local smoke butts

Entertained the innocence of timely

Thirst for games,

I fall prey to

 In thoughts,

In memories

As a throwback existence leap

Through the sight of my sensitive eyes.

Of those times,

When a bulk of lower notes

Meant the richness in value;

When mum would request for a meal

And order for washing hands;

When father would give old five Ngultrum

And caution for efficient use;

When hide and seek between

Little brother and me

Made our days,

I often go nostalgic

As flashbacks flash in me

As I feel the differences now.

Bygone days of life

It was those tough days of life that a great deal of ordeal succumbed our life. I don’t remember if I ever felt sad but I definitely do remember that I cried when nothing worked on our favor. My parents and I have seen the darkness of some times that enlisted the fate to be concealed. Perhaps, it was the unrevealed prophesy of the lord to have tasted that bitterness of time. My parents suffered more than I did for I was a I- don’t- know- what- is- happening boy. How would I even know then? For me, the boundary of world was just the places my legs have taken. I knew, as far as I am concerned, more about what a cow eats or how a goat can be tethered or when it should be fed with water than anything.

Like any poor chaps who must have seen the beauty of a village, I have been one such jinx. May be due to the result of taking birds dropping or random picking of butts of local cigarette  I knew   I should go to school only latter than any child nowadays knows.

I was already at the midst of 9^th years of age when I was enrolled in class pp. Getting into schools in those days was as competitive as getting a job now or tougher than this. There were many eligible children who were six or seven years old. My parents took me to school for admission when I was seven years old but I was rejected. Even when I was eight years old, I couldn’t get admission. Adding onto what was already a problem, the need to produce NOC was a major hurdle for us. My mum was in form 5, then, due to the delay in transferring her census in my father’s Gewog. My mum is from Bhangtar, indeed from the same Dzongkhag. (Form -5 is marked for those people whose wife is a foreigner, I think). Due to that small negligence on the part of my father, our census status was at stake.

No matter how much we begged to the principal, we were not favored. We bribed him as much as we could by supplying him rice and much stuff, still nothing worked. However, finally, in 1999, due to the god’s grace and the help of Dasho Dungpa,I got admission. By then, I was already a huge boy of 9 years age. Only few students were of my age and rest with the phlegm hanging like a thread form the nostrils. Because of my age, I used to hesitate to play games with the kids. I used to get ashamed because I was already an aged boy capable enough to think and feel what is wrong and right. May be due to the ability to feel shy, I avoided playing football in order not that I made mistake. I lagged in games since then.

At times I regret of my age. Had I been admitted into school at the age of six or seven like others, I would have been into job. Today, I stand with a degree at the age of 25 amongst those who are just 22 or 23.I feel, at times “odd one out’. Whatsoever, I am heavily indebted to my parents for all that I am. Had it not been for their struggle to enroll me into school, I wouldn’t have graduated yet.

With time, I have learned that, everything will get good. It happens what was to happen. Even in our life, we have a very limited control. Our life is just like the wheel, driver is the fate. As we move on in life, we become more contended.