A dog chased Latu out of the school gate. The dog growled close behind him for some time. Latu leaned against a tree and threw a slice of bread. The dog ran after it and munched greedily. Then it stayed quiet.
"This dog can become friendly after so many days," Latu thought.
The day had been brutal. By evening, the wind broke tree branches, clouds showered heavy rain, and thunder rumbled loudly. Latu was alone on his way home. But not really his home. Before long, he found himself on the path to an unknown journey—his actual, unfamiliar road. The heavy downpour soaked his body.
There, in an unknown place, Latu felt lost. He climbed a trembling treetop to see his home's light. He saw a faint glow, miles away. He didn't know where he was now. He only knew he was deep in a jungle. This was his first journey alone. His friend Kagtong was bedridden and couldn't come to school on the first day. Since Latu's parents had gone for training in a foreign land, he had been sent to this village to study. Only three days had passed since he arrived from the capital of Bhutan. He was to stay with his aging grandparents in this village.
Now, Latu listened and scanned every direction of the jungle. He was scared of ghosts and spooky things in the deep forest. He was afraid of wild animals. Latu was late today because of the distribution of textbooks—it was the first day of school, and as a new student, he received his books last.
It was already seven in the evening. He ran wildly wherever his thoughts took him. It was the fastest run he had ever made. Before he collapsed on the ground with exhaustion, he saw a house in front of him. It was built of stone and mud, with a thatched roof. He wanted to ask whoever lived there to direct him home. With great relief, he went inside. He pushed open the ajar door and was greeted by a young girl his age. She was cooking something. Seeing an uninvited guest, she shouted in fright for a moment.
He looked at her, thirsty and desperate. Dazzled and stunned, he saw that she was a simple-looking, slim girl with bunched hair—utterly lovely. He stood there speechless.
"Oh God, to be loved by her!"
"Who are you?" she mumbled.
"I have never seen such a girl in Thimphu," Latu burst out without thinking.
"What!"
The heavy rain suddenly softened to a drizzle. The pit-a-pat of the raindrops became like love. The wind became a breeze. The thunder became music. Everything turned into a trance of love and longing. He felt that today, tomorrow, next week, next month, or someday—he wanted to be with her. He watched her, and his happiness exploded.
She asked him many questions, which only made him more blank. He looked at her lips and her eyes. They were perfect. An angel had visited a poor home.
"I just wanted to ask you the way to Memey Dogdola's house," Latu quivered.
"Oh, you're the new guy from Thimphu, here to study. Go seven steps down from my house, then take the straight path to the right." She beamed.
"Okay, okay, I'll come tomorrow," he said hurriedly, hearing some noises outside.
Latu counted down the steps gladly when a powerful torchlight from the right side forced him to stop. His face was now in full light.
"So when we're away, this is what our daughter has been doing?" a man sneered.
It was her father and mother.
"Oh no, I came here to ask my way home," Latu said quickly.
"Who are you?" a woman's voice asked, flashing her torchlight on Latu's face.
"I'm Memey Dogdola's grandson," he said, and hurried away while they murmured and went inside.
He felt an awful emptiness walking home as the rain beat down. He could only hear his own heartbeat. Once he reached home, Latu sat at his desk and pretended to study so his Memey wouldn't question him. Inside his mind, he could think of nothing but that girl.
The next day, Latu met her. To his great surprise, she was there too—at the same school, Nangkor High School, in the same ninth grade.
"I didn't see you the first day," Latu said in class.
"Yes, I stayed home helping my parents." Her soft breath entered his heart.
"I'm Latu Tshering. And you?"
"Choden."
Soon they became good friends. They shared everything under the sun. Everything was perfect, especially their romance. Their relationship developed a bond that was hard to break. Their days became the shortest and happiest of their lives after they found each other. It became Latu's daily routine: whatever the weather, whatever the troubles at night, he would quietly go and spend his evening at her house.
A year or so passed. After a few rare discussions about their future, they decided to drop out of school and get married. Their reasons were that they couldn't study properly and were held back in the same grade, that teachers complained about their behavior, and that their parents frequently reminded them they were wasting money.
After a year of married life, Choden spoke as if she had changed her mind.
"My Ajang Karpo asked me to come to Thimphu," she said.
"For what?"
"To find a job. To be honest, if we stay like this, our life will be ruined in this village. He found me a job."
"No, how can you go? You and me—we will start together, work together, survive together," Latu sighed.
"I'll come back and get you after I find a job. Maybe a month."
And that was how she left—without giving him time to show how much he loved her.
He hated those who chatted with her. Jealousy was a crazed love. He had noticed it back in their school days. Now she was gone—very far away.
To pour out his desperation, Latu gained the courage to write a letter every day. He wrote long letters about their past, cheered her up endlessly. He told her everything, gave his heart and soul. He wrote how she had broken his heart when she left. He wrote of his hope to see her soon. They had no secrets. His only real fear was that they might one day lose each other without ever being together again.
Days went by, incredibly okay. She wrote back. She promised she would find a job and return to him. She asked him to wait another two months. She wrote that they would make a comfortable life with the money she earned.
Their foam-like love lasted three months. Latu wrote almost every day. But her letters grew fewer—one or two a month. Then months passed. Then he received none. Latu was in hell. Those trances of happiness and charm vanished forever when he heard from village gossip that she had been found floating in the Thimphu River.
Life was dead. The paths were blurred. Silent traces of memory killed him—memories shut to his chest, to be valued and cherished, until he could bear it no longer. It was a nightmare. He couldn't accept that after so many months of love, she was gone, leaving nothing but grief to show she had ever been there.
Why should she leave when there was so much beauty in her, so much life to be lived, so much love she had received?
He walked out on all his dreams.
He cried in defeat.
Three days later, her Ajang Karpo gave him a small note found in her room. It read:
Dear Loving Latu,
The truth of life is sometimes hard to tell, especially when one has so much love. I know my life. I separated from you on purpose. I hope you will understand. My short life was shortened by brain cancer. I had only another month to live. I couldn't bear to see you watch me die. So I ended my life in the water, far from you.
Start a new life, Latu. I am sorry we could not grow old together. The little savings I have are in your name.
Yours always,
Choden
Latu sweated with cold tears.
"This dog can become friendly after so many days," Latu thought.
The day had been brutal. By evening, the wind broke tree branches, clouds showered heavy rain, and thunder rumbled loudly. Latu was alone on his way home. But not really his home. Before long, he found himself on the path to an unknown journey—his actual, unfamiliar road. The heavy downpour soaked his body.
There, in an unknown place, Latu felt lost. He climbed a trembling treetop to see his home's light. He saw a faint glow, miles away. He didn't know where he was now. He only knew he was deep in a jungle. This was his first journey alone. His friend Kagtong was bedridden and couldn't come to school on the first day. Since Latu's parents had gone for training in a foreign land, he had been sent to this village to study. Only three days had passed since he arrived from the capital of Bhutan. He was to stay with his aging grandparents in this village.
Now, Latu listened and scanned every direction of the jungle. He was scared of ghosts and spooky things in the deep forest. He was afraid of wild animals. Latu was late today because of the distribution of textbooks—it was the first day of school, and as a new student, he received his books last.
It was already seven in the evening. He ran wildly wherever his thoughts took him. It was the fastest run he had ever made. Before he collapsed on the ground with exhaustion, he saw a house in front of him. It was built of stone and mud, with a thatched roof. He wanted to ask whoever lived there to direct him home. With great relief, he went inside. He pushed open the ajar door and was greeted by a young girl his age. She was cooking something. Seeing an uninvited guest, she shouted in fright for a moment.
He looked at her, thirsty and desperate. Dazzled and stunned, he saw that she was a simple-looking, slim girl with bunched hair—utterly lovely. He stood there speechless.
"Oh God, to be loved by her!"
"Who are you?" she mumbled.
"I have never seen such a girl in Thimphu," Latu burst out without thinking.
"What!"
The heavy rain suddenly softened to a drizzle. The pit-a-pat of the raindrops became like love. The wind became a breeze. The thunder became music. Everything turned into a trance of love and longing. He felt that today, tomorrow, next week, next month, or someday—he wanted to be with her. He watched her, and his happiness exploded.
She asked him many questions, which only made him more blank. He looked at her lips and her eyes. They were perfect. An angel had visited a poor home.
"I just wanted to ask you the way to Memey Dogdola's house," Latu quivered.
"Oh, you're the new guy from Thimphu, here to study. Go seven steps down from my house, then take the straight path to the right." She beamed.
"Okay, okay, I'll come tomorrow," he said hurriedly, hearing some noises outside.
Latu counted down the steps gladly when a powerful torchlight from the right side forced him to stop. His face was now in full light.
"So when we're away, this is what our daughter has been doing?" a man sneered.
It was her father and mother.
"Oh no, I came here to ask my way home," Latu said quickly.
"Who are you?" a woman's voice asked, flashing her torchlight on Latu's face.
"I'm Memey Dogdola's grandson," he said, and hurried away while they murmured and went inside.
He felt an awful emptiness walking home as the rain beat down. He could only hear his own heartbeat. Once he reached home, Latu sat at his desk and pretended to study so his Memey wouldn't question him. Inside his mind, he could think of nothing but that girl.
The next day, Latu met her. To his great surprise, she was there too—at the same school, Nangkor High School, in the same ninth grade.
"I didn't see you the first day," Latu said in class.
"Yes, I stayed home helping my parents." Her soft breath entered his heart.
"I'm Latu Tshering. And you?"
"Choden."
Soon they became good friends. They shared everything under the sun. Everything was perfect, especially their romance. Their relationship developed a bond that was hard to break. Their days became the shortest and happiest of their lives after they found each other. It became Latu's daily routine: whatever the weather, whatever the troubles at night, he would quietly go and spend his evening at her house.
A year or so passed. After a few rare discussions about their future, they decided to drop out of school and get married. Their reasons were that they couldn't study properly and were held back in the same grade, that teachers complained about their behavior, and that their parents frequently reminded them they were wasting money.
After a year of married life, Choden spoke as if she had changed her mind.
"My Ajang Karpo asked me to come to Thimphu," she said.
"For what?"
"To find a job. To be honest, if we stay like this, our life will be ruined in this village. He found me a job."
"No, how can you go? You and me—we will start together, work together, survive together," Latu sighed.
"I'll come back and get you after I find a job. Maybe a month."
And that was how she left—without giving him time to show how much he loved her.
He hated those who chatted with her. Jealousy was a crazed love. He had noticed it back in their school days. Now she was gone—very far away.
To pour out his desperation, Latu gained the courage to write a letter every day. He wrote long letters about their past, cheered her up endlessly. He told her everything, gave his heart and soul. He wrote how she had broken his heart when she left. He wrote of his hope to see her soon. They had no secrets. His only real fear was that they might one day lose each other without ever being together again.
Days went by, incredibly okay. She wrote back. She promised she would find a job and return to him. She asked him to wait another two months. She wrote that they would make a comfortable life with the money she earned.
Their foam-like love lasted three months. Latu wrote almost every day. But her letters grew fewer—one or two a month. Then months passed. Then he received none. Latu was in hell. Those trances of happiness and charm vanished forever when he heard from village gossip that she had been found floating in the Thimphu River.
Life was dead. The paths were blurred. Silent traces of memory killed him—memories shut to his chest, to be valued and cherished, until he could bear it no longer. It was a nightmare. He couldn't accept that after so many months of love, she was gone, leaving nothing but grief to show she had ever been there.
Why should she leave when there was so much beauty in her, so much life to be lived, so much love she had received?
He walked out on all his dreams.
He cried in defeat.
Three days later, her Ajang Karpo gave him a small note found in her room. It read:
Dear Loving Latu,
The truth of life is sometimes hard to tell, especially when one has so much love. I know my life. I separated from you on purpose. I hope you will understand. My short life was shortened by brain cancer. I had only another month to live. I couldn't bear to see you watch me die. So I ended my life in the water, far from you.
Start a new life, Latu. I am sorry we could not grow old together. The little savings I have are in your name.
Yours always,
Choden
Latu sweated with cold tears.
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