The icy floor beneath my feet made me hate the cold December morning. I thought of my lost slipper and my heart burst into tears although none of it reached my eyes. I had searched everywhere, in every corner, but to no avail. Gradually, the hope of finding my slippers had faded. I placed my bare right foot on top of my left to protect it from the cold cement floor. I was supposed to brush my teeth but the morning bell rang for prayer time before I could do so. My sleepy dorm-mates rushed to the bathroom. One of them complained about the freezing water. He rinsed his mouth but left without washing his face.
I, the laziest student was sleeping while others prayed vigorously. My sister—who had tied a Raksha Bandan thread on my wrist to signify the profound relationship we would share with each other from that moment onwards—was sitting in front of us. The so-called Captain saw me sleeping. He was indignant, but kept silent. It was eight in the morning. We were waiting for the bell to ring for breakfast. Suddenly, one of my roommates informed me that the Captain was calling me. I knew he would scold me, may be he would even beat me. My heart beat faster as I tried to come up with an excuse.
Though overwhelmed by fear, I had no choice but to face him.
“Why were you sleeping during prayer time?” he probed, a long bamboo stick in his hand.
“I have a headache, Captain,” I lied, my eyes full of tears. I felt certain he would not believe me. I thought he would beat me just as he had beaten my close friend the previous week.”
“Where are your slippers?” he asked.
“My sister bought them yesterday, but I lost them this morning,” I replied, sadly “Don’t you have shoes?” I shook my head, “No”. Then, surprisingly, he told me I could go.
He was in a good mood. Perhaps it was his birthday or his father had sent him some money. I could only guess why he hadn’t beaten me.
In the hostel we did not have our own lives. We lived in autopilot, governed by the rule of the bell. It told us when to wake, eat, study, pray and go to sleep. In the mornings I wished it would leave me to my dreams. We passed each day with the same, dull routine. Only during our holidays would there be a break from the monotony. We would play marbles all day long, soaking up the warm sunshine.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours. In the blink of an eye, six months passed. My sister had finished her SLC exam and was ready to leave our hostel. I helped her carry her bags to the taxi parked outside the gate. She hugged me for the last time and encouraged me to study well. I couldn’t hold back my tears, she was leaving me. I stared until the taxi was out of sight, hoping that God would create another beautiful moment which would enable us to see each other in the near future. Still, my heart ached.
As time passed, the pain lessened. The new semester started and every student was busy going through new books. Indeed, I was really excited to show off my new books in front of students who had to use old ones. It was Sunday morning. A new girl appeared at our classroom door, wearing a knee-length skirt. She had big eyes, wore glasses and was carrying a science book. She seemed to be a bookworm. I then noticed she had a beauty mark, just above her lip on the right cheek. Truly, she was lovely.
“May I come in?” she asked. The teacher nodded, “Yes”. She explained she was new student. “What’s your name?” asked the teacher.”Amina,” she replied, her head down. They completed their conversation and then the teacher continued with the syllabus.
Again months passed. Amina and I never spoke with one another. We didn’t even talk when our paths intersected. She would turn away whenever I looked at her.
Perhaps she was afraid of me because I used to fight a lot. In fact, nobody liked me except my sister and my friend Tsenen. But things had changed since Amina’s arrival. She made me want to change.
It was the 25th December, Christmas day. Unexpectedly, I heard the words “Merry Christmas” echo in my ear. I turned and saw Amina standing before me. My mouth fell in surprise and my senses stopped functioning. She handed me a greeting card, it was the first I had ever received. I murmured, “Thanks” as she returned to her seat. The next day we talked and introduced ourselves properly. It was then that we became friends.
“Why are you so cruel and naughty?” she later asked. I had no answer so I changed the subjects. Afterward I realised I needed to explain myself to her. “I was so cruel because I hadn’t received love or affection. My parents used to send a pile of notes in envelopes, but even in all of that I could not find evidence of their love. I was raised in the hostel and have been beaten from the beginning. Our seniors beat us and we, out of anger and sadness beat our juniors. Strength always prevails on weakness. My heart was not cruel but my situation made me so.”
Amina and I grew closer. Once she visited me at the hostel, bringing chocolates. I would give her my paintings as gift. In those days we exchanged gifts frequently. In my world of hatred, her care and friendship brought an ocean of happiness to me. There wasn’t a single day that I did not dream of her. I felt like sleeping just so I could be with her in my dreams.
One Sunday evening we were studying. A Baje called out my name and said that a girl had come to see me. I went to the gate. When I saw Amina I ran toward her. She smiled at me. I couldn’t help but smile back. As soon as I reached her, she gave me a blue plastic bag. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, it seemed she was in a rush. I asked why she had come. She replied that she had missed me a lot. I told her I missed her too. As we talked more, her eyes filled with tears.
“Is something wrong my dear?” I asked her. She shook her head, “No...I love you,” she said. She then proposed to me and hugged me close.
For that fleeting moment, I was flying high. I breathed the fresh air of freedom. In her arms I felt the world was my kingdom. Her heart beat for me and mine beat for her. She already knew that I loved her so she didn’t wait for my response. We didn’t speak a single word. We simply remained there, wrapped in each other’s arms, listening to each other’s heartbeat, feeling the warmth of each other’s breath.
Presently a distant voice from the hostel startled us. I wiped her tears and told her to go quickly.
It took some persuading but in the end she left.
I saw someone coming toward the gate so I hid in the corner near the drainage. While I waited I looked down and found my old lost slipper hidden behind the bushes. I felt so happy and thought of my sister. I had really liked the slippers she had given me. I rushed to my room. I was eager to see what Amina had given me. I looked inside the bag and found that she, too, had bought a beautiful pair of slippers for me.
I had spent many days with barefoot and now suddenly there were two pairs of slippers for me to wear! I put on the slippers that Amina had brought. My heart overflowed with gratitude. Truly, each time I put them on I felt Amina’s love for me.
Five years have lapsed since I last saw Amina. I can’t explain how I spent those years without her. That evening, though I didn’t know it then, Amina had come to say good-bye to me. Her father was a green card holder and her family was leaving for the US that night. That was why she had cried in my arms, clinging to me as a little girl clings to her loving father.
I have passed my SLC and am now preparing to leave hostel life for good. Amina, I carry the memory of you everywhere I go, and I still have those slippers. They’re as old as the hills now, but they still remind me of you.
- Pema Tsering Lama
thank you
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