The Passionates

Wangchuk ran down the wet, grassy lawn that led to his English class. He was dragging along his tattered bag crammed with all sorts of books. He was going to be late, yet again. He realized this halfway along his run and slowed down trying to think of a plausible excuse to narrate to his English teacher, Mr.Thomas. Many such excuses seemed to fight through his already jumbled mind, trying to wriggle through to the seat of decision-making in his brain. He zeroed down on one – that he was summoned to the office to receive a call from his parents. Yes! That seemed believable enough to cover up for him this time.

Wangchuk was a third-year BA English Honours student at Sherubtse College, Kanglung. His parents were in Thimphu, the city where Wangchuk had spent all his childhood and teenage years. Wangchuk was a brilliant student no doubt, but he was also very lazy, and he always had an opinion about everything; he viciously debated with his friends even on the tiniest of issues. He’d care for those issues more than he cared about his friends and in the process he lost them, one after another. He thus survived as a loner.

Outside his class Wangchuk straightened his gho and his face, trying to look natural. He entered in but did not see Mr.Thomas anywhere. He let out a low sigh and approached his desk at the far corner of the class. But he noticed something different – the class was unusually quiet. And then he noticed something else, there seemed to be a new girl in class, she was talking to some of the front seaters at the other end of class, and she was now staring hard at him. He smiled, but apparently, that was a mistake; she continued staring at him as she approached closer.

“I’m Tshering, your new English teacher,” said the young lady as she motioned towards the green board. And sure enough there was her name – Ms.Tshering Lhamo, MA, written in a neat cursive on the board. But Wangchuk still couldn’t believe it. He smiled weakly and put forth another one his arguments, “But Miss, you’re about our age,” he said sheepishly. “So what?” came the reply. “So what…” for the first time in life Wangchuk did not argue any further than that.

A bell went off somewhere and Wangchuk was relieved. As he looked at her disappear into the distance, he knew somewhere in his heart that there would be a story with the lady that he had just met.

The next day Wangchuk was sipping tea at the canteen during recess. His new English teacher walked in, went over to the counter, spoke quickly, and walked towards an empty table with a cold drink in hand. With the air of a prince, Wangchuk picked up his tattered bag and made his way to her table.

“Excuse me miss, I’m Wangchuk. I’m in your English class, third-year Honours. I’m sorry…,” he broke off.

She was staring hard at him again, just like the last time. And then she started, “It’s ok. Hi, I’m Tshering, I’ve just graduated from Australia, and yes, you were right yesterday, I’m about your age. Friends?”

Wangchuk took the outstretched hand and shook vigorously. Soon, they were having a noisy discussion about Oscar Wilde – his masterpiece “The Importance of Being Earnest”, his rebellious streak, and his various run-ins with the law. Wangchuk and Tshering were complete opposites of each other, and yet so like one another.

English classes suddenly livened up with similar discussions between the English teacher and the resident eccentric. Some even took notes of the arguments. But for the chief protagonists, the discussions and arguments signified much more; it had started to seep into their personal lives as well. Wangchuk began to look forward to meet Tshering, thinking of new topics to discuss over tea. Tshering on the other hand had begun to feel the bond growing stronger as well. At first she had shaken it off as one of the many bizarre ideas in her head. It was too complicated. It was definitely against the rules – “no affairs with the students” she had been told by the College Principal. But now that she had gone on this far, she did not care. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Both of them were confronted by the hard truth of present circumstances, beset with the incongruity of their situation.

A week later, sitting on a grassy knoll outside the college on a weekend, the pair was discussing TS Eliot. They seemed to agree with each other’s views this time around. They were reading Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”:

“Let us go then, you and I.

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient…”

They looked at each other; there crept a moment of awkwardness clinging on to each breath they took. Tshering was the first to recover. She asked Wangchuk, “Do you believe in soul mates?”

“Yes, I do,” Wangchuk was quick to reply, “I believe that everyone is sent from above to be with someone predestined. I’ll meet mine any day now. What about you? Have you met yours?”

Tshering wanted to say yes, but she suddenly forgot how to speak. She nodded in agreement and said, “I’m not sure,” and continued, “You know Wangchuk, I find you very passionate; you speak with so much fervour and excitement. I believe your soul mate will be really lucky to have someone with so much passion by her side.”

And as soon as she said this, she wished in her heart that girl would be her, and blushed at that thought.

Wanghuck was taken aback. What could this mean?

Some days later, Wangchuk had prepared himself thoroughly to break it to her. He couldn’t hold it within him any longer; he’d burst anytime now with the amount of pressure he was under. After his English class, he asked Tshering to meet him at the canteen at teatime. She agreed; she was unaware of what was coming. But she was well prepared for that eventuality if it ever arose. She had done a lot of thinking herself and could come up with only one solution. If things got too far, she would quit her job. But she also realized that it is not everyday that you meet your soul mate, and she knew what she had to do to find out where their story was headed. Passion seemed to course through her veins as well, as if it had been injected there from Wangchuk’s own.

They met at the canteen. Their usual cup of tea took ages to finish when the noisy squabble was missing from their table. As the twilight spread its arms onto the clear sky, spraying stars in its path, Wangchuk suggested going for a walk. They walked along the rows of pretty houses with small gardens in front.

After a long silence on both sides, Wangchuk spoke, “Miss, I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while now. I’ve thought this through and I think it is the right thing to do. I really like you, I really do. What you said is right, I have a passion in me no doubt, and this passion drives me to the extent that I’m ready to face all kinds of consequences if we can be together forever. I don’t care for anyone or anything. Do you think I qualify as your soul mate?”

Tears welled up in Tshering’s eyes. She had nothing to say, she would cry if she opened her mouth. She just turned around and ran back to her house. Wangchuk did not follow her. He just stood there in the darkness with his head hung low.

Wangchuk was sleepless the whole night. He shouldn’t have said anything. It was entirely his own mistake, he thought to himself. He cursed himself for being so selfish not to care about Tshering’s feelings.

He got up early the next morning and ran out of his dormitory. He looked in all the classrooms for Tshering. He finally tried the staff room. She was not there, but there was a letter lying on her table addressed to him. He tore it open and read quickly.

“Hey Wangchuk, I’ll be far from you when you receive this. But it is what you said yesterday that made me do this. I’ve quit my job to go away from you, but only so that we can be together for the rest of our lives.”

A small chit fell from the envelope after that. It read:

“Tshering Lhamo, No.5, Reldri Apartments, Thori Lam, Thimphu.

Phone Number: 77613627.”

Wangchuk smiled; it all made perfect sense to him. He thought to himself, “I maybe passionate, but you have more passion that I do, my soul mate.”