Tuesday, April 19, 2011


Author: Kinzang Wangdi, second year med- student in colombo reflects his departure from his home. 

I can still feel exactly how i felt when i left my home back then. And this memory strikes episodes of flashbacks, especially when i am all alone or when i realize what the truth is. The truth is; i wouldn't be walking, bearing these pounds of remorses on my head had i been a little more caring to myself, a little more workaholic and a little more conscious of the way the time passed and passes.

The regrets (not really regrets; some sort of helplessness) come, not from what i couldn't do, but from what i didn't do. Never did i realize that it would make me go insane until today and when i realize it does, am far down the line. I know it surely will take me sometime to get over these thoughts. I never gave time, the value it has. On the last day i felt i was weak and shuddering under the fear that i will miss everyone so close to me.

It was the Blessed Rainy Day! i can say i had no pleasure however special the day was but i was at least happy that i had one more day with the ones i loved and cared. The ones with whom i wish my whole lifetime together. That was the time when i realized how much of a perfect fool i was.

It's true, time fleets very fast when we need it by our side. The night soon gave in. The morning was cold and still dark. My parents had made everything ready by the time i woke up. I was preparing to leave for the alien land again. Thoughts rushed through my mind: messy,mixed and unclear. Time drove and dragged me and i had to leave my home. I remember my mom shedding tears for her reckless son. The true meaning of parental love and care, departure and all sorts became crystal clear. ''if only i had studied a little more harder....'' 

Darkness was by my side luckily; they didn't see me with tears, a little less of pains to them. I remember my youngest brother being awake but unwilling to wake up and bid me goodbye. I remember giving him a 100 Nu. note. On the way down, i started thinking if he has started feeling how it feels to get away from the ones we love. I thought it was too young for children of his age but it was true; he keeps on telling me to come home soon on phone calls. I miss him bad.

My dad walked me till the bus stop, the morning was still dark. We used torch as we walked. Early risers from a distance might have judged on us being  Dhon Mee(Demon's light) as called in Sharchop. The silence ruled. The moon shone wherever the clouds had set off to the horizon. I watched it glisten over the sleeping valley, attended by few stars. when the dawn descended, we were at the bus stop. I watched the moon shedding it's usual silvery colour and putting on a fainted-red one, under the morning sun. When i last looked at it, it was half-way down the horizon. My dad counselled me on what's good and worth doing and what's not. For a person like me, who has nothing much to bring from home, that's more than the most precious jewel on earth. 

The bus came by and i bid my dad bye. That moment was terrible. I wished i never get to go through that stage again. "i will miss my parents, my siblings and home....''

All through the way, i tried hard not to think over it again. But the thoughts of going away from home was like losing all what i had. It had me fixed to thinking. When i thought i had everything with me, that was the time i realized i had nothing.

I was on the left seat. My right sternocleidomastoid contracted and i kept looking to the left, at the hill where my village rests till i could distinctly differentiate it from other hills and vales. Deep inside, i prayed: ''may all be just the same as it is till i get back next time, my parents and siblings be happy and the people there too, the valley remain as green as ever.'' 

I gave a last look to my country as a whole again for the second time, on the early 4th October prayed again that Bhutan be safe and the livings in it be happy and prosperous. 

The word ''miss'' can be used as simple as to mean what it means but to the ones who feels it when he/she has no time to stay with the ones being missed. It can be like the sharp dragger.

Here i am, in a foreign land, stricken with nostalgia, yearning for those same old fat times again. I miss my parents, siblings and dear friends. Thanks to them, i know the value of friendship. I know everybody feels the same. 

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