Flooding thoughts of Winter

It's already 11 PM.  I can hear the wall clock make tick-tock.  It is a dark and a very cold night. I have four layers of clothes on my body and another four on the bed that  wrap me. Chill on the toes doesn't go away despite wrapping inside the layered blankets.  It's numbness that buzzes like the swarm of bees on the toes and fingers. You would hear it,   if you were close to me.

 Itches on the body are better left unattended than tried to scratch or else it would feel like death laying its icy hands. Ducking inside the layers of blankets and dodging the freezing cold air that hovers inside my room, I don't have many complicated things on my mind but a silent wish that time would elapse fast and winter was gone. Emotions are rendered numb and frozen as cold  deepens with night and  being in Thimphu feels more of a curse than blessing. My emotions  seem confused and senseless at the intensity of this cold. Despite the overwhelming fondling of the spiteful cold, I don't know what it is but  there is a light of excitement kindling within, as December slowly enters the calendar and take a few steps ahead to exit as well. Some students are done with the annual exams. And they are excited to enjoy the winter vacation after hectic academic sessions. School staff must be already laying the thread of activities to weave a plan for winter break. After a heavy dose of academic sessions, who wouldn’t be excited!

 Back in the village, paddy fields must be strewn with the after-harvest of paddy plants- stubbles. And where water has managed to exist, egrets must be already spread into   paddy field to hunt for fishes and toads. Young kids who have not been colonized by the use of mobile phones must have started turning the school socks into ball to play PITU (Game of seven stones). Some students must have already bought a CHUMKI to play. While that w as on a fun note.

On a serious notes, those border students who have been away from their must be excited to be home. But fate has thrown discriminations abundant for many kids like us. For them winter also means a time for earning hot cashes for the next academic session as opposed to attending a winter coaching classes for urban children. Or maybe what urban children would think of building and polishing skills, it was a time we thought of earning cash. Rustic as we are, our thoughts are always a pyramid-like, ultimately having cash that would help us push towards the educational journey. 

  

I have those vivid memories of having undertaken so called TEMPORARY JOB of loading and unloading stones, sands and gravels. Clearing bushes, making drainage along the road, making gravels and constructing walls, you name it-we would take up anything that would keep us engaged and provide a platform to earn money. And happily receiving cash of Nu 3000/- at the end of the month that would straightaway go as school expenditure would be a milestone that would be so overwhelmingly unimaginable at that level. Even sweater memories are of the packed lunch we would share among friends after having lost significance amount of energy, loading and unloading stones, sand and gravel. How painful palms, fingers and hands would be in the evening when we used to wash them! But basking in the fire with those weary eyes and body, it would be a reunion with parents that is worth million dollars, from a monetary perspective.  And those agonizing pain would be forgotten.  Sitting by the fire, over a cup of tea, I remember dreams I would share with family. The dream would be regarding what I would do after studying. We were small people with dreams suitable to our status. Innocence would be another feature that would decorate our dreams. Yes, winter also means dream -sharing moment-at least to me.

In addition to the above, winter also meant collecting firewood from jungle. I still have in my mind that fear of elephant or any wild animals used to be zero. Unstopped by any fear, motivated by the fact that such life was our obligation, I still remembering travelling through thick and scary pockets of jungle. Be them fodder of bamboo and many plants that cattle would consume or firewood stacked in the baskets, this life had a privilege to taste, which would soon be a tale for today’s  generation. Such life was not tough but held great values that prepared us for future. I still find value in keeping an image of myself ploughing field or carrying a basket on my back. That is the root that created the branches of life I have today and will have in future.