On Road

I take pride tagging the officers as my colleagues. I really don't know if this term should suit to address them but I remain at ease comparing to one sycophant calling infamous Dasho title to anyone favoring him. I always enjoy listening to my colleagues talk on any kind of tours. They talk on politics, they talk on nepotism, grumble on wrong nomination, rejoice on deserving posts, transfer cases, infidelity incidents, bank balance, ruling Government's autocracy, and many more. They never ask me and I never interrupt them. They only want to know if I have girlfriends or if I like any of the novice lady officers. I don't dare answer them except smile through the overhead looking glass.

I make sure they listen to the latest songs and I have noticed their moods differ on the choice of music I play. Call me DJ in Hilux; at least I feel empowered to let them hear of my choice. When I play Sergi Dhunghi, they get excited and jumpy and immediately hear those romantic talks. I don't play anything and they will doze off or get carried away to their own worlds.

Actually I have made a silent agenda to roll the songs of whoever sits in front. Kuzu 104 for almost tending to superannuation officers, Kuzu 105 to middle aged, and Radio Valley to fresh officers. While I drive my boss, I never touch the stereo unless he wants me to. He either prefers boedra or BBS news. I am one irresistible person to scan all channels if I am alone.

I get to know them through what I hear. I have known the fundamental of being human remains same to any status, any caste, any age and any sex. Everyone gets headache and the pain seems same. He tastes sugar sweet same as I taste it sweet. He feels brunt with expenditure as much as my small income does. I have compared my life with them and they have refined me to a fine human being.

Last Sunday on return journey from Paro they talked on cars while we waited for registration in confluence of Chunzom. Someone said that the new compact cars have no space for luggage and big cars are expensive and inaccessible to them. They have derived a relationship between incomes and kinds of cars. Low income group are the highest caste of people that expensive cars become untouchables to them. I was about to tell there is a vehicle called Maruti van that carries all my belongings. I cleared my throat and told them my how my scooter carries LPG cylinder and a bag of rice. Taking the chance I continued how my pair of knees, pair of ears and pair of hands test the frosty air while coming to office from home. When they went silent for sometime I felt unsure if I had not encroached in their conversation.

Feeling a pang of guilt, I changed the cassette, played Sergi Dhunghi to a volume bar little higher to audible range.

Few meters away, all my colleagues were humming to the tune of song. Relieved I drove them safely to their respective homes.