"The Day of My Dirty Tego"
It was fine and beautiful Monday morning. I curled under the blanket; I languidly looked around the room. My cupboard was open and I could see all the dishevelled clothes, at the bottom my shoes, on the top of one other like a pyramid.
My roommate had neatly folded his blankets and left early. I had no first period so I’d slept a little longer. I got up and washed. The hostel was silent except for few echoes from the floors above. As it was the first day of a week, I looked for a clean gho, there was none. ‘God! I don’t have a single clean gho?’ I took one, which was better than the rest. With tego and stocking, it was the same story. ‘How could I forget to wash them?’
The previous day, supposedly laundry day, I’d gone for a picnic. ‘If only I’d washed them little by little.’ But that’s what the Centre of life is (I’if’e).’
With this frustration, I went to a friend’s room and, as luck would have it, the door was locked. There was no one else I could ask help from. So dressing ‘dirtily’ I went to class. On reaching there, I directly went to my seat. My classmates walked in with clean clothes, they were literally glowing with wide ‘happydent’ smiles. How I despised my- self then. And as for my seat mate, I was simply no match for him.
After a while, the lecture started and, in the middle of it, my friend noticed my black stained tego. “wai, what’s that on your tego? Seems like you haven’t washed it, mena? How do you ever feel comfortable with a dirty tego? Khai!”
“No wai…” I replied, trying to mask my irritation with smile. Within, I cringed at his remark. But that was not the end. The bell rang for an interval. We were all out in the sun engrossed in some guy talk. I’d completely forgotten about my soiled state. While we were so engaged, a girl, whom I dearly loved, passed us by.
Now, it was not just me who followed in her footsteps but one of my friends, an opportunist, too. Finding the moment appropriate to embarrass me, he loudly said, “Hey sonam didn’t you wash your tego? It’s got damn dirty. Moreover, it’s Monday wai!”
Hearing this, she turned, as everyone was staring at me and more at my tego, she just smiled and left. I turned from ‘black to red’ as I felt the chance of approaching her slip from my hands. Back in class, I couldn’t take the incident out my mind, I’d become a laughing stock. That was the most embarrassing moment of my life. On reaching the hostel, the first thing I did was wash my tego.
However, a part of me was glad, because I got to steal her attention and her smile too (whatever the reason she smiled!). I can still remember that smile and, thinking it over; it gladdens my heart and sends butterflies to my stomach. Latter, that incident did help when I got introduced to her. We became good friends. And what I felt and am feeling still remains with me.
She still remembers that day and teases me, saying ‘dirty boy’ and I just enjoy the euphoria. Therefore, if dirt can do good, then I think it’s not such a bad idea to get dirty sometimes, mena?
Note: This is a very short and simple story written by ‘Sonam Wangdi’ which I found is very interesting. So, I thought of sharing to all the readers through my blog. I found this short story in one of the newspapers in 2010 but I think there are many readers who couldn’t go through this story. Ever since I went through this story, I thought of sharing to my friends but I couldn’t, so I am sharing today…!
D.K Thulung Rai