note: Tshering Jamtsho, second year medical student in Colombo reflects of the April at his home with his family. This is his original writing published here with his due permission with mild changes but keeping the originality as far as possible.
After aging ten, he spent just one April with his family.
It's not that rainy always, cool and virgin. Everything grows green, birds singing, stream nearby is so gentle,
winds blows from northeast and the people are in their farmland. Fields softens to germinate seeds and the doves and pigeons are plenty. Catapult placed perfectly over left hand and pulled hard can make dozens of doves fly back.
He is not surprised to see people in the field, before the dawn till dusk had kissed the mountains. He understands it is simple way villagers live.His mom would tell, 'when those peach flowers blooms, it is best time for chicken egg to hatch'. Dad would say, 'we can compare the cleverness of boy by the sharpness of the sword he carries'.
He loved to spend his time in the forest with cattle. Leaves of Oak trees to the east alongside the main footway would grow from rat's ear to calf's ear. On free time, he goes to the chorten and watches his neighbours sat randomly drinking refreshment. When sun sets, he is relieved. He ties up the cattle and is happy to see the calfs grow cleaner and bulls getting thier neck thickened. Washing with the tap water pouring helplessly to wooden black trough, he would hear insects' sounds and his little cute sister would be back from the school.
Four of them would mostly spent time together in kitchen. To the right of the white painted gigantic clay oven, his mom would cook typical Sharchop curry, more of soup which his father always preferred. On the left outlet of oven the maize would be distilled for Ara. To the left of the oven is his favourite place where he would play with the charcoal with his little cat. Father would exhaustively weave Bangchung and sister would sit on the carpet with wrinkled forehead with her homeworks.
He might have flown over the sea to cities, may be enjoying but is hardly happy. Sometimes in April he asks 'Do i miss those days at home?' and wonder who might be sitting in his favorite place.
author; Tshering Jamtsho alias KB among his friends circle.
chorten; a stupa.
Ara: homemade Bhutanese wine.
Bangchung: a cane made, intricately designed circular plate like container used especially for carrying and storing foods.