The house above? Oh, it’s my country house, tucked in a beautiful plain
in Chuzargang village, Gelephu. For you or any other person, this house is like
any other rural house. But to me, it’s so special; it’s engraved in my heart,
mind. Because I had spent almost entire life of my childhood there. Like its
oldness, uniqueness and its persistent grace, many of my jolly memories of
being a kid are tied up in this place.
A couple of weeks before, I was there. I went around the house and looked so uninterruptedly, so obsessively at everything, even at the smallest things. Images of as a childhood flooded into my mind. Instantaneously. After a very long time, I was home again, staying in my own house, on the soil of my own.
I rested on the wooden bench, outside the courtyard of my house. Lying down on this same bench, some 20 years back, I used to dream of things I can’t remember. Teacher. Engineer. Journalist. Rich man. Superhero. Ah, even marrying a beautiful girl, settling down. And guess what? I had madly loved my neighbour’s beautiful daughter. Oh, my heart! I wanted to marry her. My first love? Infatuation? I don’t know.
A couple of weeks before, I was there. I went around the house and looked so uninterruptedly, so obsessively at everything, even at the smallest things. Images of as a childhood flooded into my mind. Instantaneously. After a very long time, I was home again, staying in my own house, on the soil of my own.
I rested on the wooden bench, outside the courtyard of my house. Lying down on this same bench, some 20 years back, I used to dream of things I can’t remember. Teacher. Engineer. Journalist. Rich man. Superhero. Ah, even marrying a beautiful girl, settling down. And guess what? I had madly loved my neighbour’s beautiful daughter. Oh, my heart! I wanted to marry her. My first love? Infatuation? I don’t know.
The grass and bush have continued to grow. The bush sheltered birds, rabbits, bees, insects of any kind, butterflies. I was walking in the field, witnessing, and caught up in my own thoughts. We’d sneak beneath the bush, shooting at those birds, slingshot in my hands. Sometimes, we’d chase those wild rabbits, dragonflies too.
I had my camera with me. I took many shots. Then, I raced back home. Smell of fried rice and emdatshi flooded my senses. Yes, my mother was cooking supper for me. I had to blink back tears as I watched her cook. Oh, it took me back in those days where she used to ready the supper when I return from the school and run-rounding, hungry. Whereas, my father would be tuning to his radio. In some occasions, I used to get arra soaked egg from the bottom of his arra glass.
Everything about the end of day excited me. The setting sun was feverishly beautiful here. I sat on the grass, in my courtyard. The sky. At night. The same sky. I’d always try to count the stars and wondered about the moon.