The morning fight

Wednesday, January 9, 2013


It has become terribly cold in Thimphu. It seems the mercury level has also dropped low in some part of Indian cities as one page on Facebook humorously says ‘The refrigerator door of Rajnikanth has remained open’. I have requested him to close the refrigerator door immediately but of course, he is so busy he does not heed to my request.

The cold always reminds me of Hum Jaiga and I try to become one. Every morning, I accuse my daughter for a fight, “Let’s fight, will you?” She accepts it and we agitate ourselves by hitting softly and running around the house. After five minutes both of us pant and feel no more cold.

But yesterday, my partner was in no mood to fight back. I saw her sitting on the couch watching her favourite Chota Bheem. I was in no mood to surrender. My accusation had no effect on her. I changed the tactic; I accused Chota Bheem. I said, “I wish Chota Bheem dies.” It did not affect her. Is she sick? I thought.

“What happened to you?” I asked her softly, sitting beside her. She did not reply. She remained silent for some time and when she spoke, this father got a new idea to agitate her.

“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“I saw a dream,” she said.
“What did you see?” I asked. I placed my palm over her forehead. It was cold to my happiness.
“I was going downstairs and almost fell down,” she explained her dream. I could only smile. That was the first time she narrated her dream. I wondered if it was possible to remember the dream if she had ever seen it.

“Don’t you want to fight with me today?” I asked.
“I want to watch TV,” she replied. She was adamant she would not have another regular escapade of hitting-running to keep ourselves warm. I changed my concentration to my wife.

“Daughter has got hurt,” I shouted towards the kitchen.
“What happened to her?” my wife replied, concerned.
“It seems we have to take her to the hospital,” I said. I saw my wife coming out of kitchen towards us.
“Is she sick?” she asked.
“She had fallen down, from the staircase. We need to take her to a doctor to see if her legs are alright,” I explained.
It caught the concentration of my daughter. She does not like to go to a doctor.
“I did not fall down,” she screamed.
“Yes, you did. You told me just a moment ago. Don’t lie to your mother,” I said.
“Oww, mommy, yek cho ley,” she was breaking down.
Mommy squatted in front of her and asked what had happened to her.
“She fell down,” I intervened. “From the staircase in her dream.”

And next, it was not the daughter who chased me but her mother.

5 comments:

Kinzang T. said...

Keep writing, keep posting and keep me reading! Love your humour and the style of writing. Cheers:)

Riku said...

Nice post, Sir. I wish to read more from you, be humoured and laughed.

Nawang P said...

As always. Humorous and nice. Loved it. You know what you should do a collection of humors in a separate books. Hey by the way, you did not return of humor books by Ephraim? I forgot the name now, but I remember you took it. Lol... you should attempt such a book. Keep writing and ranting.

PaSsu said...

Ha ha ha, I know the feeling but I should not try this at home because my Kezang has weak heart she will faint and may be throw pots and pans at me for the joke.

Very warm family story, the type I love to live and the type I love to read!

Tempa Gyeltshen said...

Great sense of humor....liked it very much...keep posting sir....

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