19th Jestha, 2058 B.S
I was ten. Happy and zestful as always. Hopping from 4th standard to 5th, I had my results that day and holidays were in full swing. Holidays were always welcome, they still are. The more, the merrier.That year, I was at my ThuloMom's home getting pampered, getting to eat all the kinds of junk foods, packed foods, candies, whatever i asked for (chauchau with MSG loaded masala, cream sandwiched biscuits, chips, cheese balls). I could sleep till midday. The playground was infinite and potato couching unlimited.
I noticed that that dawn phones rang more than ever. Some talks, some unfinished business, I reckoned. I had my share too. Dad called me to congratulate for I had excelled the school. I was on cloud nine. Little did I know I was going have a downward plunge the next moment. No, nothing to do with my results. I heard my dad's voice, the flat voice. At that age, I was not skilled enough to register either of the tensed tone or the sad pitch.
There was a certain resonance echoing his sorrow and mourning; his grief.
Grief of losing a father figure, not just his but the whole nation and to have let go of the thought that the supreme royal family was invincible.
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| Nepal misses you, terribly. |
But helpless as we always have been, the most we can do is offer you condolences. This obituary is not for the ones who died but for the law and our duties as our beloved king's subjects which simultaneously deceased with our royal family.
I'm grown up now and I realize the bargains I made to God at the age of ten were of no use. I would have eaten boiled foods instead of those junk, or starve myself. I would have agreed to repeat 4th standard. 7 days school was fine, who needs holidays? I would have happily turned the TV off; stayed up all night and sacrificed my pleasures, I would have done and will still do everything if that day could just change.
But Change had come...that day.-Jestha 19th, 2058 B.S.
