Fate or Feat?
“Karma, I want you to study hard and be the master of my dreams, not yours. There’s lot to be learnt but you only learn when your heart gets burnt.”
That was Dophu’s only piece of advice when his son Karma left for the UK.
“I’m not great like you guys. I’m just getting by.”
That was Karma sheepishly years later to some friends who’d turned up for a party at the hotel he’d come to, looking for employment. He was happy enough to see them but couldn’t help a twinge of envy at their success. A doctor, an engineer and a lawyer were they and he, a would-be assistant chef. His friends must have sensed his discomfort for they left not long after.
Later at home, tired and depressed, he found his wife Lemo looking weaker than ever. She’d been sick and hadn’t eaten for days. Just one look at her sunken eyes and gaunt aspect made his spirits droop further. His desperation must have shown on his face. She took one look at him and wept. “Don’t cry, Lemo. Haven’t you eaten at all?”
Her eyes wet, she shook her head dumbly.
He went into the kitchen. There was only some leftover thukpa which he warmed and served in a bowl.
“Cheer up, Cheche, I’ve got a job. It’s not much but it’s better than nothing.”
Her eyes lit up at his words and tears of joy ran down her emaciated cheeks.
“I know you’re unhappy with me,” Karma went on, blurting out his regrets. “You must be cursing the day you chose to be my wife and lead this sort of hand-to-mouth life.”
“How can you say that, Karma?” she said, outraged. “This is our fate and we must take it.” And she went off to bed in a huff.
Left alone Karma wondered if it was fate that ran their lives. No, no, he disputed in his mind, we are not mere puppets in the hands of the fickle fate. His own experience didn’t help to resolve the issue either.
That night he spent a sleepless night recalling those halcyon days in the UK, his father’s faith and affection and his current plight. His father, Dophu, had been a rich and successful tour operator and Karma, his only son, the apple of his eye. His father had paid a small fortune on his foreign studies and how had he repaid? By gaining renown as the last of the big spenders and losing touch with his education. When friends took him to task for his profligacy, he’d reply, “When you’ve got everything money can buy, who needs education?”
The news of his father’s sudden death by road accident cut short his stay and thrust Karma into his father’s shoes. It soon transpired that the only thing he learnt abroad was how to burn money and he proceeded to blow a huge hole through his late father’s not inconsiderable bank balance. With obvious consequences. His inherited tourism business folded, foreclosed by creditors and he had his first long hard look at bankruptcy.
Though he’d married Lemo at the height of his scionic phase, her parents had objected strongly and she was now estranged from them. He knelt beside her and moaned, “What a life you’re to lead for my sake Lemo?”
“Oh, c’mon, Karma,” she replied, “I married you with my eyes wide open. I loved yu for what you are, not for what you own.”
Then Karma remembered another of his father’s sayings, “Without a rich heart, wealth is an ugly beggar.” And he came to appreciate what his father meant by his words that one only learnt when one’s heart in burnt.
By: Yeshi Dema Dorjee, Paro source courtesy: KUENSEL