He has a tale to tell about his losing of hairs. “It was the time when I was in Sherubtse,” he started his story. “I joined the group on might hunting in the villages. I was then having good hairs. When our attempts turned out futile in almost five houses we tried, I got infuriated and turned to college. On the way, we dropped by the bar and enjoy the midnight drinks. One of my friends got really out and couldn’t walk. I had to carry him to the hostel. When still at my back, when his belly was pressed between his own weight and my back, he poured down all his liqud into my head. I coildn’t stand the stinging of his puking that I smelt alcohol. Once back in the college hostel, I wanted to run some cold water shower but the tapes ran dry. Then I opted for the last alternatives, using the only liquid we had. We were carrying a bottle of beers each and I washed the face with the beer to do away the smell. The alcoholic chemicals contents reacted with the hairs and soon I realized I am losing lots of hairs from his forehead. Every morning, I combed my head, my hairs would come combful. This is how I became bald headed”, He finished. I believed him.
Behind me was Mr. Singye Wangchuk, Forest Ranger. Looking at his shape, everyone would definitely ask, “how on the earth such fat man is supposed to walk for four days?” He almost represented a big stump of the oak, short, fat and his tummy protruding like he is impregnated to the final month. Yet he walked with determination although he rested every ten steps forwards. When asked to speed up little, he defended himself, “Drogey drogey juan, Bongku Lhasa korwai dhue yang Yuet. (If taken the sweetest time, there is time, the donkey can circumambulate the Lhasa).
After the bald head, we moved to his bulging tummy. He has his own accounts to narrate. He was fit and fine and almost looked lean to the extent that the slightest blow of soft wind would bring him down on the ground until his ICSE. When he could not make to college, he opted to go abroad for his higher studies. Meantime he was involved in contract work helping his uncle possibly he got to make money for his study expenditure. And one knows how the contractor should look like. Well, in pursuit to look like one, he soon started putting on lots of unnecessary weight. Within few months, he is a genuine contractor, no matter what class, his appearance, deceived none. He looked like ‘A Class’ contractor. Driving a landcruiser, a Cowboy hat and a cigarette on his lips, he fired many labourers.
When it is time for him to go to school, he looked much old to be in school. He then joined NRTI at Lobesa, the fastest way to get employed and got placed at Chukha. The first time he joined the office, his boss got up to greet him mistakening him to be some officers from headquarter. The story doesn’t end here. Until he was too familiar with other staff, I had to answer many friends that he is a fresh graduate. Everyone had to ask me whether he got recently promoted from serving as Sr. Forest Beat Officer for almost fifteen years. I had the patience to answer each of them since his appearance says much more than what they enquired me.
Following silently after us were two porters probably in their late thirties. Thy carried two bamboo baskets over filled with our rugsacks, clothes, books, posters, waters, juices, biscuits and the rations to serve ourselves on the way when he had to halt in the jungle. Their load weighed almost 50 kgs yet they walked much faster than us. On the contrary, we were struggling with a small tour bags. We shielded ourselves with umbrella we carried from the sun.
And the one that fitted to these two porters were an excerpts from this ballad:- “Meyey Lue lu Bongku Namshey Dra”, (Its like a Donkey’s soul in human body) Certainly they were carrying our baggage like the donkey and horses does. They acquired no education while we did. And this is the ultimate difference, they struggle with 50 kgs, we had just light tour bags, negotiating the steep three hours mountain climb. And I can feel, my father sharing no better fate back in my own village from officials alike.
We then have crossed four streams and two ridges. It was charming to walk with the pristine nature accompanying all the way. We could hear lots of different species of birds chirping and twittering their own tone of songs. The raw and fresh smell of the forest floor, the sounds of streams gushing down the valleys, the discarded baby-monkey squealing on top of the tree when other went on jumping from trees to trees, far in the mountain, a barking deer suddenly burst out a bark, these magnanimous sounds from the original track of the nature provided us enough courage to keep walking. But for a break, it was the fresh and clean forest air that soothed our lungs, having acquainted with always the dusty, dirty, impure, air filled with exhaust from cars of the urban air.
............................to be continued....................................
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