Novel

                                                Chapter One.

I was neither too old nor too young.i presumed myself to be a toddler striving to thrive. I was an ardent begineer.Designing the flickering waves of dream.

i vividly remember a chill December 2007,when I was  sitting for middle secondary examination. “All da best!!” wishes one.“Do well”, from the other.They trusted my ability more than myself.

“I’m hopeless.i’m going to do no good in papers. I’m sure I will have to pursue my further education in private school”, Retty poured out his dis appointment. I too knew the fear he had for not being able to fulfill parent dreams. He was good athelect,better than me, of course. People skipped their heart beat; Can’t forget his dexterity in shooting the basketball. In hostel, he barely studied.

“No Retty! ,You can atleast give an earnest try”,assured I. My voice feeble. It was barely audible to him.

”Ahh..suhh..Dorji leave me to myself.Dont try to console me like a little baby.I have,atleast bigger reasons here”.He murmurs many things to himself.Then,turns away abruptly to  vigorous force of cooling breeze.

“Are you done with preparation, Dorji”Sonam asked.

“no,just pleminary”said I, in low doubtful voice. Sonam had been a superb man in my life. He stood by me in thick and thin.He was religious. Often, girls fell prey to his dazzlingly handsome look. He is average in study. Fairly good in games. Of course, keener than me.

I envied his multi-abilities. I wouldn’t have all his qualities. But few circumstances bared me. when he joined games coaching session, I was herding cattle in thick jungle. When he discussed problems with family tutor, I was helping mom in dilapidated kitchen with household chores. He enjoyed sleep in cozy bed. He saw dream of fairy-tale in heaven under soothing blanket. While, I slept on single carpet. Vainly, counting the star above.

‘Hey, stop day dreaming’, sonam shouted. I quickly regain my conscience.

“Time for exam”, Retty murmured. I quickly checked my watch to confirm. I never use to show my watch. Not because, I was shy. But it didn’t have ……to tie on. Moreover, I rarely go for fancy watch to adorn the wrist. Even there were no rules that forbid the wear of watch in school. It was simply portable. I always dipped it in my big pocket. It wasn’t presentable but fairly served its purpose.

“Dorji, today is your party rite!”, Sonam mocked wearing worried smile. He knew that I sat bashing away with science all day. Including my close friend everyone called me “Dorji”. I wonder who first started calling me with it. And it wasn’t my birth name either. Sometimes, it moved me to far end. If we really go around asking, there are bundle of people bearing same name. Bhutan census records showed there are at least five thousands ‘Dorji’ , ‘tshering’ ,’kinley’ , and so on. While, am I that ‘Dorji’? I never gave deep insight to what people call me by. In fact, it appeared sweet. My friends pronounced it in soft, serene and lovely manner. In contrary, no body inquired me of my original name.

But unknown to them, my name is Ram B. Darjee. Again,’B’ here is arbitrary. It’s not mystery in my name. I abbreviated it, just to make it sound modern and unique. Though, census record holds my old traditional name.

“Mam is coming”, Retty shouted, pointing towards a long distance over the bend. I could not figure it out. It was damn foggy. It is always extremely cold there.Chapcha High School; place we studied. Retty was the most sensitive among us. His name is just acronym of Jamyang Retty, a guy from east of Bhutan. He was the embodiment of the best human being; kind hearted, helping hand at all the time and truthful. On darker side, he was short tempered many a time.

At the midnight, we use to fed on the Tengma(beaten maize) to keep ourselves awake. At least to gossip, if not to study. Every night, we use to surround him.Some used to call him “kokti”,in amid of anger,at his denial to share Tengma. Before we could finish off  our daily dose of tenga, he could have shared his success and failure of night hunting.

To be continued....