Skip to main content

The Guilty and the Guilt

As his once beloved wife drove away his most prized Land-cruiser, Karma scratched his head before he entered the empty house, once a happy home, now a deserted and cold house sans his smiling children; he asked the heaven above if all women are bestowed with such an eloquence to defend their mistakes to tag their faithful counterparts unfaithful to turn the tide around and claim their modesty.


The court verdict allowed him to visit his dear children only once a month, but more than the pain of paying a certain percent of his salary to his absconder wife’s pocket as his children’s sothue, his heart pains from the want of a glimpse of his dear children as he gets up every morning; he only wonders if the other man in their mother’s life can even see them as the fruit grown out of immense love and strong faith.

Justice is declared, they said, men are cruel they said, women are exploited they said, men deserve to be punished they said, fathers have no feelings for their children, they said, mothers take better care of their children, they said, even if a wife sleeps with another man, it is her husband’s fault, they said, fathers are good for nothing, they said and the case is closed they declared.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Alive and kicking

This feels like ages since I last posted anything here. That shows how inactive I have become on my blog. It is such a pain to let it go empty, day after day. And I am sure that all bloggers share the same sentiments.

I have attempted to blog about something for a long time now, only to find myself failing to do so. Maybe that is my laziness. But sometimes, there is nothing new or interesting to blog about. Topics are crucial. As far as my idea of blogging goes, a post cannot be a mere record of personal events - everyday affairs - although there can be blogs about such topics and interests. For example, the one I am writing now - has nothing about anything in particular,  besides citing some personal excuses.

Bhutan is going through yet another interesting era in that we have just had our third parliamentary elections and the new government is in place. I take this opportunity to welcome the new government and a new set of cabinet members, the speaker of the National Assembly and th…

When they are ready

The Ministry of Education discovered 890 'underage' children admitted in schools across the country in 2019. Thus, the ministry in May 2019 issued a notification revoking the admission for these children. Majority were in urban centres. 
Desperate, parents and the affected schools requested the government to intervene. They also requested the government to consider lowering the enrolment age to five years. Currently, in Bhutan a child can legally go to school only when s(he) is six years old. 
And that policy was strictly followed a few years ago to the extent that some schools refused to admit children even if they were short of a few weeks. So, parents, mostly in urban areas, resorted to faking their children's ages. Many parents were guilty of adding years onto their children's actual ages. However, most parents, we are told, managed to correct their 'mistakes' later. Faking a child's age was rampant both in government and private schools. But the story wa…

Our throw-it-away culture

Like all grandparents, my late grandma would call food 'tsampa rimpoche' and any fuss made about it would invite everyone's sneer and scoldings. Food is always treated with respect and is never wasted. "If you waste food in any manner," she would admonish us. "One day food will discard you and you will go hungry." 
What remained from the previous meal would be turned either into porridge or sometimes leftover rice would be dried in the sun. The dried rice would then be fried into puffed rice and consumed with cups of suja. When there was so much food left, especially during big events, leftover rice or kharang would be mixed with a small amount of yeast and brewed into ara.  
The only thing that I can vividly recollect from my primary school days is how we would be hungry most of the time. Food we were served was hardly enough to tickle our throats. We would be sent home only once a week on Saturdays and that was our opportunity to replenish our popcorn s…