My Struggle for Becoming a Father

Introduction 

Nobody would understand the pain better than by the couple who have been trying to parent a baby.  I mean, having been married for more than a few years, there is already creeping in of  a subtle pressure of society in the form of an  expectation for  baby. And even the very  sample  we take of people who have been married tend to give such an  impression-  a baby right after marriage! 

We live in a society's that just makes you believe that  it's time we had  a baby as soon we are married. or else, you are viewed differently- like, you are impotent or an eunuch.  And  overwhelming number of  arrows of questions are thrown at you. They pierce you so deep and hard that the agony emanating from it just keeps you awake all the time. Perhaps, it disturbs you more than it reminds you. 

Despite so much happening against your favor, you cannot exercise an absolute liberty in deciding on when to have a baby and when not to, because the bigger planner is the Almighty and without his will, there is nothing you can do.You   need a  direction from God.  Indeed, life flows along the bigger plan of Almighty. Unless it matches His, our small plans, be they in millions, are rendered nullified.

Now, the story I am to narrate of my life is the phase-wise experience of marriage and the struggles I am facing in living the expectations of the society.  

Our Marriage 

My wife and I have been married for more than 4 years now. I just would like to believe that we were married just because we had to marry, once in life,  just like grown-up people do at a particular point in life. Uma and I tied the  nuptial knots in a very typical Hindu custom. There were more than 500 people coming to witness out marriage; from her side, as usual, people from all walks of life gathered, firstly to  see the groom and then to shower their blessings for a better life. From my side, to see the bride and shower their blessings on us. This is what I have heard  people say they visit marriage ceremonies for. The requirement for a grand ceremony the culture I have been born and brought up in,  actually has its significance. The people far and near when they witness the marriage ceremony, pass on  sacred prayers-for a better future and  for a better life-  a life filled with happiness and many more. I had thought that I had so much blessings, only later realize I actually lacked them. 

Newly Marriage Life

Whatsoever, sadly, life doesn't go the way people want. Maye be it goes the way it wants. Or it follow the direction showed by God.

 Initial phase of post- marriage life has been beautiful: we were just two of us trying to get adorned in the world of romance being a new couple in the town. We enjoyed being just two of us. And at times, all we were experiencing was both the beauty and ugliness of marriage life- something very normal an experience. We were very much relaxed in the way we look at our lives.  But this was just short-lived. Days of struggles, to walk on the path society's had paved in keeping with the best interest following a marriage life, were coming. We knew, though!We were supposed to give the world a baby soon after marriage. But we failed. We failed miserably. 

You know the ancient tradition has this: the day you tied nuptial knots, on the occasion called Suhag Rath (meaning nuptial night.golden night), your seed for a baby is planted. and soon after 9 months of marriage, a couple will be holding a baby. However, this is on a little vulgar-sounding sense.

Until it was more than three years we were married, we had no desire  for parenting a child, for there were enough sceneries of a child-ful life of people around us.  So, daily exposure to the colleagues and relatives undergoing sleepless nights and experiencing tough  times with a child on their lap or back was,  more than enough for us not to desire for any offspring. Brand new parents experiencing a sudden illness of their child, rushing to hospital or hunting for shaman,  sacrificing their otherwise beautiful time (I mean occasions they used to celebrate fondly prior to having a baby)  for attending to their child,  had somehow indirectly signaled  compromises and challenges that one is faced with, in  possessing a child. 

Even parents with grown- up kids not being able to  discipline them had sent enough of silent messages to us in harboring a very low interest on having a child. I thought planning a baby so soon  was unnecessarily inviting an unbearable issue in life.  But this too would change, I didn't know. 

 Seriousness in Post Marriage Life

The carefree feeling and the carefree life  were celebrating soon came to a halt. Enough of hearing relatives, colleagues and neighbors ask that very hard question to answer, "when are you planning to make a child?". I have started getting that subtle pressure to respond them the question of a child with a child on my lap! Even while talking with my mum over phone and asking her to come stay with me, she has started nagging and blackmailing me by saying that unless there is a grandson to play with, she isn't coming. So basically these subtle pressures are hitting us hard, daily!

A  short-lived Good News

Having had undergone  experiences of encounter with innumerable   bomb-like questions- from left and right; from relatives and friends, I started thinking, "perhaps it's time that I started getting serious in life. 

Then, perhaps by the grace of God, one day my wife informed me that she wasn't having period for a few days. We waited for a few more days before we acted on it. Within I was melting with excitement and unprecedented delight. Now the time to respond the challenging questions of people was approaching, I thought. Unable to hold the ever increasing inquisitiveness, we wanted to conduct home-pregnancy test. With a generous support of a friend known in the Hospital, I availed a test kit and, the restlessness of excitement came to a happy stop. Uma tested positive on the home-pregnancy test kit. In a day or two, we went to the Daga Hospital to re-confirm. The Lab. Asst with a recommendation form the community health staff   re-confirmed it to be positive on HCG test kit.  Uma was prescribed  Folic Acid for three months with a piece of advice to conduct Ultra-Sound after 3 months. We were really happy. Such a good news couldn't rest only inside of me. I even informed my mum. She was really happy as well. However, the so good news culminated in a very sad news. On 16th January after 48th  day of her pregnancy, she informed me that she started bleeding. Though initially she said it was alight bleeding. But as time went by, it started heavy. It was January 16 2021 when she started showing serious sight of Miscarriage- Heavy Bleeding, Abdominal cramp, Lower Back ache.   I was devastated. Broken from within. But didn't give up my composure. Actually I was pretending not to mind at the misfortune that befell on me. Inside, I was silently enduring the pain, while Uma had both physically and mentally been traumatised. She was mentally gone very low. No wonder, it was 50th Day of her pregnancy. Soon after the abrupt abortion, she complained of severe headache. I knew she was stressed with over thinking. Though I tried consoling her and assured her there was nothing to worry about, it wouldn't work. I even told here,  what we have  not seen shouldn't be felt so bad for. She listened. Her  heart didn't! I knew that precisely  and deeply. 

Later, I learned that  she must have undergone what medically is called as PTSD(Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) as a result of that unfortunate incident.  Despite several medical checkups carried out in JDWNRH, to consulting  Gynaecologist and Psychiatrist, and subsequent diagnosis,  she didn't report any  relaxation of Headache. The pain was worse when she was at home taking leave for a period of month from school. Although I knew she would feel a bit better when she would join school, she was not ready to join her school before completing a month of leave- perhaps due to physical pain or feeling of guilt to herself. Perhaps, she had  thought she wouldn't be able to face her colleagues as a result of such an unfortunate incident. However, once she joined her school after availing a month-long break,  she was experiencing improved health.I was happy. 

My coming to Thimphu

I was having a gala time at Dagana serving as HR officer since 2017 until many factors led me to settle at Thimphu. Despite apparent hurdles in adjusting to the city life specially in terms of money, my determination wasn't deterred. One very obvious reason for me to decide to challenge myself posting to Thimphu was for Fertility-Check ups; to consult  doctor and seek reasons as to why I couldn't father a child. Indeed, both my wife and I wanted to conduct check ups and rule out who had the real issue. 

We finally moved to Thimphu with my position changed from HR Officer to Program Officer  in June 2021. Although initially some settling-down activities and the new environmental  shock  would confuse us, it would take until September 2021 to approach the Gynaecologist and conduct series of medical test based on his recommendation.  We were apprehensive as well as excited to get exposed the real reason on our delayed child-bearing ability. 

 Consultation with the  Gynecologist 

Thanks to the support of my brother-in-law, who also is a doctor at JDWNRH, Uma and I availed an appointment,  with a Gynecologist, Dr. Namkha. Upon meeting him, we were asked several very personal questions. Some of the questions asked were:

1. How regularly do you have sex?

2. Do you smoke/drink?

3. How long have you been married?

4. Etc.

After we responded the quizzical questions like a rapid fire round of a Quiz, we were advised to carry out series of fertility tests; my wife was asked to do Ultrasound, HSG(X ray) and Urine & Blood Test. However, I was asked to do Semen Analysis only.  Although we were asked to do the above test. we were not made clear on when to do so. The fact that we were not informed on when to do those test, we were a bit confused. When we approached health professionals for all the recommended test, our ignorance was made to vanish. 

Conclusion

Having followed the prescription of the Gyane, the story doesn't end here. Indeed, some sweet; some bitter experiences still remain to be shared.

1.                                    An Obstacle in between my resident and the village.

No matter where one reaches in life, it is the root that counts, more than anything. I for one, I don' know if its emotionally- driven, feel that one should visit his ancestral home and parents once a year, atleast. As I grew up noticing the values people hold with regards to being in touch with their homeland and close ones, I always held this value with awe. r

It was January  2020 that I visited Langchenphu, Jomotsangka, my ancestral home land for  the last time. It was, infact on the occasion of my elder brother's wedding ceremony. My brother, after several deep pressures had agreed to get married formally. Even if it was not for the excuse of his wedding, I had already made up my mind that I would pay a visit to  my village,   meet my relatives and neighbors. 

Ever since I started experiencing life away from home- during my middle secondary schooling and college days, I  have had the privilege of knowing in depth the subtle pain that strike my mind. The choice-less dishes served in the boarder schools that, instead of adding fleshes, took off my flesh from the body, exposing apathetically small bones had always forced me to be home. However, the requirement on me to get an education to strengthen my life, like for many people,  had retained me; or else I would always want to be at home. Really!  

Why I love being home?

I don't have idea as to  what beckons you home, but for me, it's unfathomable and unheard call of my village; the expectation of my parents and neighbors and the immense happiness  on enjoying the vibes of homely feeling.  I love meeting my parents, grandma, uncles and aunts and cousins and of course  all everyone  in the  neighborhood. I love taking endless talks with them. I like being in their presence. I love visiting the old places that have remained in memories as an impressive one- they beckon me with separate level of attraction. When I visit home, I make sure I see and touch those old stuffs that made my childhood a time of joy. I go and see and celebrate the presence and  absence of   those bushes that once existed  above my house where my cousins, brother and I used to jump over in an  excitement that no more exist.   I visit the slope- top that was once just a play spot adorned with thick bushes and fruit trees which have been cleared and occupied by a rehabilitated person. Sometime I walk from one end of the terrace of paddy field that carry stubbles,  to another, recollecting the days in the past when my brother and I  used to run after the egrets shooting them with catapult. Other time I like to visit the spot containing  furrows after furrows, concealing ginger-rhizomes beneath the dying stems and leaves of ginger and perennial weed-grasses. 

As stated above, there are more than one reasons that would take us home. 

𝗠𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗕𝘂𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝟬 𝟴𝟬𝟬

𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘓𝘛𝘖 800, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘺, 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 11,000 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘒𝘔, 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦.

𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘺, 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘵𝘰 800.

𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗢𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑝ℎ𝑢 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝐽𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑘ℎ𝑎, 𝑆𝑎𝑚𝑑𝑟𝑢𝑝 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑘ℎ𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝐵ℎ𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑛. 𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑙𝑦 𝑣𝑖𝑎 𝐼𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑟, 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 o𝑛 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑠. 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦! 𝐶𝑜𝑉𝑖𝑑-19 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑐 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑦. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚.

𝐴𝑙𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝐼𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝐵ℎ𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑛 𝐵𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑣𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑦𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑑. 𝑀𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑐𝑦𝑐𝑙𝑒, 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝑀𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑜𝑛 𝐵ℎ𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑚 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛. 𝐵𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑝𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 "𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦", 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠, ℎ𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑃𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑑s 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒- 𝑖𝑓 𝑛𝑜𝑡, 𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ.

𝗣𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 the 𝗩𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗔𝗻𝘆 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘆

𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎 𝑟𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒, 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒. 𝐼 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒. 𝑂𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛- 𝑐𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑐𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑆𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠.

𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎℎ𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟- 𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛, 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛, 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑠𝑎𝑦, "𝑀𝑎𝑛 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑠, 𝐺𝑜𝑑 𝑒𝑥𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑡". 𝑂𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛?

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗣𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝗿

𝑂𝑓𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑒𝑥𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 2 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠, 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐵𝐷𝐵𝐿 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑘ℎ𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑛. 𝐻𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝐵𝐷𝐵𝐿, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐵𝑜𝐵 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑙𝑎𝑘ℎ𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝐵𝑜𝐵 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠. 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑜𝑓𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒!

𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐵𝑜𝐵 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑛, 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑁𝑢. 3.3 𝑙𝑎𝑘ℎ𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑛𝑜 𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑟.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠. 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟 𝑍𝑖𝑚𝑑𝑟𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑑, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟. 𝑌𝑒𝑡, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑜 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚.

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒. 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑁𝑢 20,000 𝑎𝑛𝑑 30,000 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 1.5 𝑙𝑎𝑘ℎ𝑠, 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴𝑐𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐵𝐷𝐵𝐿, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 5 𝑙𝑎𝑘ℎ𝑠, 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑎𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑦 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑢𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠. "𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑡, 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓" 𝑎𝑠 𝑆𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑘ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑝𝑢𝑡𝑠 𝑖𝑡.

𝗢𝘄𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝗿

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡-𝑠𝑜-𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑆𝑜, 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑍𝑖𝑚𝑑𝑟𝑎, 𝑜𝑛 27𝑡ℎ 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ, 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑦 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒.

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝗿

𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝑁𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑃ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐻𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐴 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠. 𝐻𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑃ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐻𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑏𝑢𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑜. 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 ℎ𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟. 𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝐼𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑦ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝐼 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑.

𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 "𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑"𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 "𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑏𝑎𝑑" 𝑤𝑎𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛(𝐾𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔), 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 me 29 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 3 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛.

𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑑, 𝐼 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝑠𝑡 𝐺𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 5 𝐾𝑀 𝑝𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡. 𝐹𝑒𝑎𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘. 𝐼 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑦𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑝 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑘𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑒 𝑜𝑓𝑓-𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑡𝑖𝑚e𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡. 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑖𝑥𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝐼 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑡 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑢𝑝 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒, 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑝ℎ𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝐼 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑑𝑎y... 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑦s... 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑑𝑎𝑦s 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑦 and finally 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑦, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒el 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠.

𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑, 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑎𝑙𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 5 𝐴𝑀 𝑡𝑜 7 𝐴𝑀 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎𝑦. 𝐼 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑, 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑, 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛. 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑑, 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑐𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠. 𝐼𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑠, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟. 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑐, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑁𝑒𝑖𝑙 𝐴𝑟𝑚𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛. 𝐼 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝐼 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠.

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Story of My Childhood

I am sure what I am going to put it down can make you identify with me-even if not completely, to a certain extent!  Because I share a similar fate with many of you.  While I can't deny the fact that many of you would have experienced life worse than mine, I measure my difficulties in my own metrics. 

Here, upon some striking of  memories, I have been taken back to the time when the machine so called TV was as rare as gem. Bound by the shackles of  poverty, I couldn't stop but  possess a  passionate  desire for a "Colour TV"-the smartest and standard one of that time.  Or else, the trend  of that  time was  possessing a Black and White TV.  A  Cathode Ray run ,  flat but one  which would mean a great asset. Only a  few  people who were sided by a a good fate  would afford to own it in their home. And people like us, abandoned by such blessing would just  afford to flock to watch it. That too, the consent of the owner at their own will to let us in was very important.

In the entire  village where I belong, there was a single household which owned a Colour TV then,  and would allow us  to watch after making  payment of Nu.5. We were played Nepali Movies. Rajesh Hamal, Nikhil Upreti and the likes would entertain us every evening and every night during the weekends like the teachers would engage us  in the weeks. The influence the movies watched at other's home was great. Class gossips then used  be all about movies and only movies. Oh! how I waited for the next day to narrate the happenings of the movies! 

 As soon as classes ended , into the shops-like a desperate beggar, I would hurry myself in  search of a  good CD (We used to call it "cassette"). What was given to me for buying some eatables during school time, I would use it in taking CDs on hire.  Oh, yes, this was later on when the time changed but the kind of life I had to carry on was still unchanged. Poverty would not leave us just like our  desires to watch TV. 

The unfounded influence brought by the eagerness for watching a TV would quite big in my life. Every evening, as soon as school was over, I was motivated to work in the kitchen to help mum cook and do the dishes. Oh my God!Such a pleasant activeness and energy! My mum and a few fellow villagers would be eagerly waiting in hurry for rushing into Aum Passang' house- where Colour TV was. Just Nu 5 would help us enter the house and that Nu 5 would come from thriftiness. I would not eat anything in the school during lunch but would save for watching CD in the evening.
Even the riskiest part of my life was when I grew up watching TV and craze for watching more was felt. Those days elephants used to roam our places like hooligans do in Thimphu Town. What was fear infront of the desire and craze for watching TV? Nothing!There stood a solid man from withing me that encouraged me to escape from home to watch TV in the neighbouthood. A friend and I would make a good partner in crime and sneak into the house where TV was played to entertain. Ofcourse, atleast at this time, whe didn't have to pay but we were required to get our own CDs if we wanted to watch something of our choice.

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.

Dasain Nostalgia

Once again,like always,the excitement of Dasain creeps into the heart.Perhaps, over the years,the significance of Dasain unlike im the past, has become quite dwindled . At least to me. Nothing like ever,this feeling would be as strong.Nothing like the life that elpased with the constant flow of time,this moment would be felt.
Childhood went by.There were times i wished i grew bigger-physically and mentally.Even if i hadn't wished so,this day would come.This feeling would creep in.
Looking back at time that went by,approaching Dassain brings a lot of memories that have stayed as value adamant to even forget let alone wane.
It was the time of golden looks of rice that Dasain would come with. I still remember as a child asking mum so curious question."When will Dasain come?". " When the panicles of rice appeared",she would answer. curiosity-filled mind would wait for the rice to bear panicles and Dasaain would come brining with its lots of joy. As a child what was more important was the excitement at the thoughts of receiving money from relatives filing the forehead with tikka.( curd-mixed rice).Having received new dresses with the money borrowed from neighbor, promising them with "Khamti rice" or "Masino" variety at the end of the year as the interest,we would sail along the wave of Dasaain. Feasting on the mutton would be another grand time for us. We had all such great gifts of Dasain but never ever looked at Dasain as such a beauftul occasion other than eating and enjoying.
Today, divided by numerous hills and thickets,distanced by thousand miles,I am here once again, existing,welcoming the great occasion of Dasain.But deep down in me, lost are some of the excitements that were part of my childhood.Lost are the grand feeling. Like other mundane days,this year's Dasain is trudging through its hills of time and here i am, looking at it and feeling nothing but nostalgic.
Where are the scenes of neighbor preparing for Dasain?Where are people white- washing their houses?Where are people sharing face-face excitement?I am away from where these things happen.Perhaps away,ahead in time such scenes can be witnessed. Also, unusually different approach of the take of such a great occasion has developed in me.And that is truth, as well.
Dasain, now wouldn't mean Mutton. Dasain now wouldn't mean new costume. Nor would it mean money after tikka.
It would mean greater than such things. It would mean a reason for reunion, after years of separation with loved ones-parents and relatives.It would mean reiterating the waning feelings of bond with relatives and family after years of separation. Dasain, now would mean a time for sons and daughters to travel home,meet parents,receive blessings and then go ahead with the journey of life.It would mean celebrations with family.

By the grace of god,i had the privilege to be with parents last year at this time.That was after around a decade of separation, reuniting with complete set of family members. On the pretext of celebrating Dasain. And the most unforgettable moment of life it was.
This year due to some other prior engagement i can't be home. Mum expresses her feeling of disappointment for not having us home by sharing news of sons and daughters of neighbor going home.I can feel the disappoint she has.And i totally agree to that emotions as well. Festivals are such emotion-striking moments of ones life. I hope someday in future i can make it to home.
For now i wish all by relatives and friends a Happy vijay Dasami on Friday after the great day(Poll day).It shall be Nations Vijay dasami as well.

A letter to my parents

Dear mum and dad

As I grow bigger each day, I have realized that you have been growing old. There were times you and I thought of the day I would grow matured. I am sure you dreamt of the day your son would grow into a man. Yes, today as I realize that I have successfully grown into man that you had dreamt of, there is a feeling of sadness mixed with nostalgia. Never had I thought I would grow this big to just remain away from you all. I know you also didn’t think of this but selflessly never ceased to educate us.

You received the rainfall but kept us dry. You burned yourself under the sun and kept us under the shed. You swallowed the pain and gave us the relaxation and happiness. A little money you earned shedding the rivulets of tears, I know, you spent on us. The money with which you could have purchased a cozy jacket or a beautiful pair of shoes, you expended on us. For out tomorrow, you forgot your today. Just to gift us the better days, you fought with bitter days. I have remembered every little that you provided me that kept me going. I asked one and you gave me ten, perhaps, the biggest amount of anything that human on earth can give.

You and I have trodden the path that poverty laid for us. I have witnessed the adversities that fate threw on us. I have perceived with my own hand the hardness of life that pressed us hard. Eating half stomach, you would fill ours to the fullest.

I can remember vividly when we had to shift to our own house from grandma’s house, how tough it was. We had nothing other than sooth-painted dishes, old rugged clothes and the cracked fate with us. With the hope for a better tomorrow, to write our own destiny and to challenge the fate that every married son had to face, I have seen you migrated to our new house. We had the cheapest house that stood like a tower and still we have it. We had nothing except the empty rooms without beds to sleep on and without fate to bless us. One person that was there spectating us was only God. To the world, we just looked assess with- what- will- you- do- to- eat kind of people. As small as we were, perhaps, never must my parents have thought we would one day grow into respectful asses. Or perhaps they must have dreamt us of growing big. Unsure of what our future would look like, I assume you must not have dreamt of big dreams.

Dad and mum, I still remember the time we had to take kharang. Only on occasion, fortune would allow us to eat rice. I still hate those moments when we had to eat Kharang out of no choice. I still keep imaging as to how much you would take to go for shopping. We had no source from where money would come from. The produce of paddy we would reap at the end of the year, most of them would go the money lenders. I have seen you, my mum working damn hard, getting others land for sharecropping. How tough it might have been to clear the bushes for ginger plantation. I was too small to think of your health and never did help you. As we grew bigger we had to go to other places for our study and you still struggled under the scorching sun and lashing rainfall. However, I have understood the toughness that would hit us having to work as a farmer. Don’t worry, your son has grown empathetic and never fail to appreciate the sweats that drain from your body.

The time we had no oxen and had to hire from others with paddy in return, still haunts me. We had thatched house that wouldn’t effectively prevent dripping of rain into the room. Twice in a year, you used to replace with straw. The time needed and the difficulty you used to face in reaping the straw that too on a sharing basis is, unimaginable. 

I look you with great awe for your greater sacrifices for me and my siblings. You never wore new shirts and shoes, but never denied to buy us one. You wore torn clothe stitched again, and gave us new ones. Still today you have maintained the same trend. Our tower- like house is on the brink of losing its name. It seems like it would collapse anytime. The money that gambled on me and my siblings and of which the return would be never even quarter of it, would have made a good house for you two. Yet you forgot your comfort for ours. Your love showed our need and concealed yours.

I want to ask you, today this question: are all parents around the world, as foolish as you are? Foolish for the reason that you know you won’t get even one tenth of what you gave us back! Is it that you expect your children to look after you when you grow old? Have all the children been able to fulfill the expectation of parents? Perhaps, you are living with inferior feelings that your children may not come nearer to your dreams.

Nay, don’t worry! I write this, today, as a proof for tomorrow that, no matter what, I will try to fulfill many of your dreams. I will make sure an expectation of a parent never go in vain. I will fill the gap that life and fate have created. I shall struggle every day and night to be your good son. I shall keep this writing as an evidence for tomorrow for you to refer and comment on me. The worries you have that you reiterate almost every day will be clarified soon. 

I sure by now,you must be worrying as to what type a wife will come to me.This worry,i know,is harbored by all the parents of grown up kids.Let me assure you that when time comes for me to marry,your son will not search a wife who would drag your dignity to the ground. I will search a wife who will come like a daughter to you, love unconditionally   and travel with us endlessly. I will not breed a feeling in you to feel low in the society. I shall serve you as any good son would serve their parents. You have given me so much that i won’t be able repay in my whole life. But I will make sure your dreams see the horizon of reality. I love you!

Your son