There she stood, looking out of the window...like, this is her first car trip. I could measure the contours of her face in the rear-mirror. Come on now, she is a stranger I picked by the roadside, I can't be thinking what I am thinking!
What a lovely Sunday! Early morning, I got this urge to take my old buddy for a ride. My friends think it's time I changed my car and got myself a woman, both I am not lucky with. No money means no new car and obviously no wom(a/e)n. I can barely feed myself. At best, I can fuel my car once a month and today is the day I can take it for a ride. When I decided to move to Paro, my father gave me his old car, "Son, you will need this." I am most thankful.
I walked out of my rented house, with an unusual mood. I like such feelings - they always mean something.
I was driving at an snail's pace - all I wanted for the day was a day out in the lovely Sunday sun, and then I saw this woman by the roadside. She had a bag on her feet, a look that seemed to say nothing, I mean a lost look. I stopped and asked, "Are you OK?" She smiled. Nodded. "I need a ride to Thimphu."
The next moment, I was driving her to Thimphu. W.H.A.T?
She didn't speak much, kept smiling at herself. We didn't speak much either. I wanted to kick myself at my stupidity. Did I really have a plan to come to Thimphu? But I was so unusually happy, so I smiled at myself. I said, "There you go, silly man. You are smiling."
She enjoyed the breeze as we passed by the riverside. She enjoyed the mountains. And the trees. She waved at the children by the roadside. She kept smiling. Yes, she kept smiling. I smiled at myself - for no good reason, but for this feeling of so-good.
In the rear mirror, I caught her smiling. Her smile, that smile.
Note: I still have the old car. I still struggle to fuel it. But my heart - my heart is blushing. I have my wife, my Lhasen. What a Sunday that was, three years ago. By the way, her name is Lhasen.