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Saturday, June 4, 2011

The best thing to do


Gonpo offered his seat to an old man who boarded the bus on the way and remained standing for three hours continuously. He pulled the collar of his gho slightly above the neck to keep himself warm from the frosty wind that lashed at the half-open window pane. The bus was gently rising, heaving slowly up into the Chirpine Mountain, puffing our dark curl of smoke. It was heading for Bumthang.
Tashi Pem pulled at Gonpo’s sleeve to wake him from his doze. He turned and look down at her, winking, “Take my seat; you had been standing for hours now.”  She offered. “No. It is alright, I am comfortable.” He denied politely. She insisted but he ignored her. Pem securely girded the woolen muffler around her neck as she eased in her seat. It was a present Gonpo had given to her on her twentieth birthday few months ago.
They were heading for their home on their winter vacation from Jigme Sherubling Higher Secondary School. Pem completed her class eleven science finals and Gonpo had written his class twelve Arts exams a week ago. Pem hoped that she could continue her studies the same school the following year.
Nine months ago in early spring they had fallen in love discreetly and even vowed a customary lover’s vow to remain till eternity. Gonpo is from Paro. His old father ran a small restaurant at Bondey. He was a school idol and a favorite of most teachers. Yet he remained timid and isolated from his friends.
Tashi Pem grew up in Bumthang Ura. She lived with her widowed mother who made her living running a small grocery shop. Pem loved watching football games and that was how she treaded into Gonpo’s timid heart. Gonpo was the best footballer of their school.
Presently Pem is building castles in the clouds. She sees herself married to Gonpo after her graduation and sitting in a candle lit room, teasing him and cajoling him. There was a sharp ear piercing honk. She woke up from her reverie and looked outside. A truck loaded to the heavens whizzed past her face. It almost jostled from her seat. The hazy glow of the afternoon sun shone through the mists and fog as they descended down Thromshingla pass. The trees were rushing backwards speedily. She surveyed the other passengers with a quick glance. Almost all had dozed off after their heavy lunch with hot butter tea at Sengor an hour ago. The bus driver momentarily looked into the rear view mirror and met her eyes. Pem forced a smile shyly to say hello out of courtesy. He returned her smile by briefly looking at her directly in the eyes.
The next moment there was a rustling and a screeching echo. They were shooting down at an incredible speed almost flying. Pem felt her heart come to her mouth. The cliff face was rushing upwards as the bus fell like a waterfall almost without a noise. Pandemonium broke out for couples of seconds before the ill-fated bus landed at the foot of the cliff with a tremendous crash some hundred meters from the road. Silence prevailed the aftermath of the fall.
When the police arrived three hours later, they could only see the carcass of the bus like the carcass of a bull attacked by a hoard of tigers.
Five days later, Gonpo regained consciousness in Paro Hospital. He had a fractured right leg and a deep cut on the head. The pain sheared throughout his body and he could hardly think well. To his utter dismay he found that his right arm has been amputated. He stayed in a state of shock for almost a month. His friends visited him occasionally. As he got better he enquired about Pem. They told him she was fine and recovering for a broken rib at home in Bumthang. He started to write letters to Pem but it was not replied leaving him concerned and feeling lonely at the ward. He was sad and desolate.
Gonpo recovered from his wounds and trauma sooner than doctors expected, thus he was dispatched home after one and half months at the hospital. When he reached home he opened his incomplete diary and plucked out Pem’s only photograph. On the rear of it was her address and phone number. He became so happy that he almost forgot about the accident. He walked around the room musing and recalling the last journey they had travelled together. The last time he saw her was when he turned to look at her as she slept like a princess leaning against the window bars.
The spell of darkness was beginning to fall on to the chilly Paro valley. It was time to take his normal evening walk down the street as doctors had suggested for total healing. He had hardly come out of the ward during the day.
That evening at about ten, the phone rang at Tashi Pem’s Grocery Store. Pem’s mother picked up and answered, “ La! Ga suungm mo?” Gonpo at the other end smiled, “Nga na Paro ley zhu do la?” His heart beat was pounding his chest in anxiety. He continued, sighing; “Nga Pem gi chharo yein..” This time the Pem’s mother replied with a stammer, “ Ga chi bay ni inn na mo.” Gonpo wiped his tears of joy and answered hurriedly, “Nga Pem da lo laap go bay sa la..” Instantly he heard a breath crackling into the ear piece. Pems’ mother broke down sobbing. A sinister feeling struck Gonpo. “ Hello!” He broke the silence reluctantly. At the other end Pem’s mother stared at the phone, tears dripping from her eyes and in almost a whisper mumbled to tell him that Pem was no more. She had succumbed to her injuries at the accident site only. Gonpo dropped the phone saying nothing and stood in the room shattered and confused. Darkness became darker; his face became pale as his tears rolled down from his saddened cheeks. A minute later he staggered out of his house as if for another stroll down to the Bonday bridge under the crescent moon; ever so slowly like a gliding shadow.
When the morning broke over Paro valley that one cold winter; the first pedestrian walking by the bridge beheld a corpse floating under the bridge caught between the boulders. It had only one hand. On the bridge they saw photograph of a girl frozen in the winter’s ice!!!!

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