A Song never Sung (Contd.)

Dear parents,

I know you have long left me to face the harsh realities of the world. But, I have become emotionally weak after your departure. I lack physical strength to suppress my frustration and grant status of refugee within my heart. I have to let it flow profusely through the curvature of my mind. Why should our neighbors pretend not to see me, avoid me like contagious disease or untouchable?  I do not understand the reasons behind their sordidness. If I am the cause, I am here; I am ready to undergo any penance to beg forgiveness. If you were the cause, will they forgive me? I regret to learn why you had been selfish not to leave any space for me to be pardoned by others.

I am sorry for misunderstanding created in you. You thought that you sacrificed everything for me. But it was I who sacrificed everything. My uncle used to praise me that I was young, cute and handsome. By my uncle’s description, I deserved to be loved by all. I never got the love I deserved. Instead, neighbors crept away seeing my footsteps on their direction. Do you remember, my uncle also once praised me saying I had good vocal and that I could perhaps become one of the best singers. I never sang a single song in my life. I was discouraged. Despite my ardent feeling to unearth your possible reasons for discouragement, I come across the fact like you never wanted me to become popular. You may agree or disagree. If I had the potentiality to become popular singer, where was the logic not to become great musician? I feel singers and musicians are homogeneous.  Did you create orchestra for me to become one?

My teachers praised me asserting that I was intelligent and sharp. I have certificates dumped in my iron safe to qualify and certify my teachers’ praises. But, have I become one like my teachers envisaged? What must be the cause, if not so? The curse is my malevolent stars that made me take birth from your womb and fall on your laps. Would I have different source of birth, different parents, I know, they would have been dejected if I did not accomplish my mission of becoming what I deserved. I had ingrained potentialities of becoming scientist, doctor, engineer, architect, teacher etc. Otherwise, there were no basis for my teachers to qualify my intelligence with stamped certificates and mementos. You may then wonder why I couldn’t become one. I repeat that your words of discouragement obstructed my mission. Penetration through the obstruction posed by your discouragement became absolutely impossible for my fragile, immature and undetermined mind.   Your advice, most of, no-all the time, to me was to leave school and come back home to inherit wealth. You stuffed me with abundance of money to lavish with friends. Your greatest lesson to me was to have insatiable love for money. You taught me to marry my life with money. I have indeed learnt to love money. But, I hardly find meaningful application of it in relation to this world. By this, I find one feeling dawning in me that you did not have any vision beyond money and wealth.

Had I joined monk body and taken vow, I would have been in the process of getting enlightened. I would have balanced my need and greed. People would have flown in hordes towards me to seek solace and peace. Had I joined arm forces, I would have become national hero, dedicated citizens and remained in history as unequal patriot and martyr. Though my body is doomed to vanish, my name would have remained imprinted in the solid rock of history for endless future generations of children to read.  Now, all these feelings branches out and ages in my mind, obviously to decay with my body.

I could not even become your faithful son. I am sorry for the unexpected epistle of this nature. I write all these not to trouble your heart but to remind you that if you ever come back as my parents, you must come to aide me accomplish my unaccomplished dreams. You must encourage me to stand on my own feet. You must encourage me to look at things positively. My mind would be as fragile as it was. You know what best for me. I know, you may get loads of pain, difficult to carry, if you chance to unfurl my letter. But, my dear parents do understand that I write this as its concealment in my small heart threatened to burst my heart open. I do not wish to die till I complete the 49^th Day rituals of your shocking demise. I do not pray for different parents than you, should I have boon of one more life!

Yours lonely son,

To this I attest my name,

Tshering Karma Tobden .