My Mum’s Interpretation of Fame

Who don’t want to become famous? Given the choice, every human being would like to be more famous than the famous person in the world. Some even sacrifice their lives so that they can leave behind their name and be remembered after they die. Few work till the last once of energy so that they are recognized by folks far and near.

"Either you do something extra-ordinary like Mother Teresa or murder millions like Hitler did"

They do all they could to earn fame and become celebrity. But there are basically two ways to making yourselves in the history. Either you do something extra-ordinary like Mother Teresa or murder millions like Hitler did. Neither way, you’ll be remembered by the upcoming generations.

But back home, my mother has her own way of interpreting the fame. Even to the least extreme that her son is a civil servant, she says some people will be gossiping about me, bad or good. These, she says will accumulate and bring in bad luck and misfortune.

She has her own strategy of combating it. She would call on the most respected lama of the village. He would prepare a ‘torma’ representing a cock. It is known as ‘Mikha Torma’ the molded dough to fight gossiping and keep gossipmonger afar.

"Among the background noise of the drums and cymbals, it goes on for almost an hour"

Soon the chanting would follow, words and meaning of which I have never been able to catch. Among the background noise of the drums and cymbals, it goes on for almost an hour. She makes sure the particular prostration is initiated on annual basis, for which she is spending pretty sum of her meager earnings. The post rimdru would include indulgence in excessive drinking and appropriate remuneration in terms of hot cash. By the time, it is done; the lama is barely stabilizing enough to make to lavatory.

Nothing would offend my mother if my participation in blogs is made known to her. This is because I am well aware of those gossips going around about my blunder writing and presentation in the weblog. Some are dead against me saying if there is anything for me to do other than writing articles. Few have to say I am not doing what I am paid for. My mother would interpret all this as ‘Mikha’ which will make me sick. Here the illiterate nature of my mum is bonus because if not I won’t be able to substantiate her enough.

So, don’t curse my diminutive presentations, please!!!