Coincidence (Story)

Life has many twists and turns, and these twists and turns are the facts and figures of realism. For every curve, there is a bending and for every bending, there is a curve. For every significant day, there is an insignificant day. Because of this so-called not important day, a notable day is there in our life. There are moments in life, there are thoughtless days in our life, and there are unforgettable days in our life.

Pema too has this moment; an unforgettable day.

Pema, the celebrator of the day is a brilliant boy of ten. Brilliant; yes, he is the topper from his class. Teachers gasp at his artwork. “What a beautiful drawing Pema?” And in a school drawing competition, the first prize is booked for him, always. And that is Pema. Pema Tashi.

He is ten now, but he would never forget the day that shaped his life forward, blissfully. That was when he was eight years old.

He would care, recollect and muse over the day; the most important day of all his days in his life. It was a day when he heard that he had won a poetry writing competition at the National level. He got the news on 12/11/2004. He was cherished, and one of the happiest persons in the whole world. It was the most important - the turning point in his life. Because of that particular article, he became a recognized figure now. The enamored day had encouraged him to continue writing from the heart and from his hand. It was not only that winning, but on that day something bizarre, unexpected, special sort of things happened to him. It was greater than his winning.

On November 11/2004, he had a dream; he was trudging in a dangerous cragged of rocks and was sweating to cross over this, his whole body sweated, and a moment later, from nowhere, there came a bird- he couldn’t name that bird, it was a white bird. The bird got beneath him and carried him to his said to be home. It was such a beautiful home with the radiance of candles and butter lamps. In front of him was the Jampelyang- the god of wisdom. He bowed low. And soon, he was awoken by a piece of music. He couldn’t grasp the lines. That was just a dream! To hear the music, he slept again, but his sleep was gone. It was already dawn. Knocks were all that he could hear.

Pema opened the door. And he was surprised to see a bunch of friends near the door with newspapers with all smiles and claps from the morning. He was down –to the earth! What happened! Without any delayed, those friends told him, what he wouldn’t forget throughout his life. They showed him the newspaper; his poem and his name there. Last weekend, he had sent a poem to the newspaper for the Kids’ Poetry Competition. He wrote about a tree in the treeless land. How a tree had changed the lives of many people? How the tree had helped to shelter many lives? A single tree was it. He described the shape of the tree and the surrounding picture of land and weather conditions of the place. It was a good poem, he thought at least.

The poem was nominated as the best in the country. He had become a single lonely tree to be thronged by so many people within a short time. This day had changed him as his tree in the poem had changed many lives. In a struggle of his life, there came a white bird, this bird was his poem. He flew high. He was elated with the hived of life. The day was made more elated when his English teacher read his poem and set him as an example to his fellow students. Miss. Dema read it three times! His teachers were proud, his mates were proud. His school had something to be recognized. It was uplifted. Everyone congratulated him; the whole teachers, a bunch of friends, a bunch of girls. His mother, brothers, and sisters all were over the moon. His tree had brought changes too. His whole life had a U-turn. Life had no twist then, it moved straight; no crooked and no hooked. He was to stay here; writing and awards.

The day was swift, there was merriness everywhere, but one thing always hinged on his mind; his father's returns. He was said to have gone far for further studies or some sort of training in the USA. Pema had been waiting for him for more than six years. His father left him since he was two years old. His father sent letters. He sent photos. And it was only those photos, Pema had seen his father. His father sent love and hugs but never came. Pema’s mother expected him to return any time for his children, if not for her sack. “The hope of my papa will remain as my dream”, Pema said to his mother one day. She always made him think of other things than his father and always told him that he will come someday.

If Pema was to divide his mind into parts; about seventy percent of his mind was in a merry mood. He felt incomplete on that day. The sun was moving and was touching the tip of the mountain. His heart melted down with the sun. His happiness began to meltdown too. He was sitting in the entrance, reading his poem ‘Tree.’ Lost. There was a rush of wind and a sweet aroma from the door. Pema looked. He saw a gentleman, standing tall, looking at him, and smiling at him. It perfectly matched those photos. Behind the man, his mother beamed and came with a sudden outburst, “Here’s your father.”

Pema ran towards him, his happy tears ran down too. “What a coincidence of happiness,” Pema blurted out.

If his happiness was in volume, it would measure the whole space of the earth’s happiness.

From the long-awaited father, Pema had expected something from him; his expectation did come true on that day. His father gave him a white laptop from his black suitcase, where he could do more writing. Moreover, his father promised that he would stay his whole life with them. Pema had reached his happiness to the brimmed and that day had chosen him - the life had chosen him, the god had chosen him. He was the chosen one, the most important one, the most important one on that day, the day was unlike, and unlike was because of the series of momentous events of the day. Pema soon narrated his day’s events to his father and concluded with the remark, “This white bird is my white laptop.” The mother laughed out saying, “This white laptop is not a white bird.” And the father said, “This laptop is a white bird.” All laughed.

And that day was his important and the most colorful day in his life. If he ever had remote control of his life, he would rewind and pause for there to have a slow enjoyment. And he wondered if he had a better dream like the dreamt he had on that day, and one day he hoped that the white bird would take him to the real world and hear that beautiful music.