I can’t believe I’m writing this from Bartsham. Forget about my great grandparents’ time, even during my father’s time, it was just unthinkable. I cup hands on the face and lean closer towards the laptop and I feel tears stinging my eyes. It is not that I am happy that the technology has reached my village. But it is this nostalgia that rushes up my head that makes me want to cry. What is incredible is that, I can’t share it with people all over the world the moment I’m feeling it.
I went to my sister’s house just now. I took along three friends and we had Ara and dinner there. She wanted us to stay there tonight but we said we must go. And here I am now, recollecting my meeting, my conversation, each of the five children’s face flashing in my mind. Wow, what great life, I say. I feel good that I have large family. But as her five kids sat around the fireplace, I could imagine how my parents must have had difficulty raising seven children.
It is heavenly to be in my village, smell home cooked food, listen to music like voice of my sister and laugh like I’m the happiest person. For now, I think I am. Even as smokes sting my eyes, I feel, I must cherish this moment. Even amidst the happiness, my father’s face flashes by and I have to force back the tears. As I tell my three friends where I grew up and how my father was a role model, I feel truth hitting my heart so hard and I wish my father was here now to tell me where I’m going wrong or what things I must correct. But, I lay in contentment because, much as I’m talking about GNH, I know it is one truth that I cannot cling on and worry because it isn’t as I wish things are.
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