Parents & Heroes

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Did you know how precious life is? Perhaps things don’t happen to all you know. We all belong in a separate community, there is always a beauty that people will see in your community. Well, mine is a place cursed by the entire community. The neighbour next door would say, “The heck this people are doing”. While the little far, the ones who hear say, “Don’t know why peo­­­ple can’t help staying a happy life”. Trust me, I have no problem. My mama gave me birth and care. My papa taught me strength and mind-ship. It’s not easy you know. Sometimes all that we need for living a happy life is a simple smile. I guess we don’t need to pay for the smile and happiness on our own face, do we? And my situation was different. Whether you spell out karma as deed, fate, dharma, or fortune. It contradicts to the same meaning, which is termed for measuring ones good and bad. But all that I know right now, “The heavens are not on my side!!”.


Dear God,

My father was once a hero. “Papa”, and a smiley cheerful face I showed, I guess I was the happiness my parents lived for. Papa would bring me new toys on weekends, teach me how to Aa, Bb, and Cc during my early days at school. Got me a piano during my mid-teenage period. We would sing and laugh together for having a voice like how a donkey would laugh three times.

My mama would always keep refreshments ready for when I would be back home from school. I would share/show my aces and star marks to my mama and guess what? Life was such a blissful thing. I would want to be born again and again as human and human.

This era, was completely different from what my parents use to share when I was a kid. I guess I am still a kid but, different. Dear God, thou knowest me best. The time when we would go to the village and surround the fire outside in the Baranda. Grandma and grandpa would share how they met on the train and got married at seventeen and got my papa calling him(grandpa), “Papa”. Those were the moments we could always cherish. I would always say in my mind that I should have beautiful living stories and moments that I would be sharing to my offspring’s. We were back home at the urban town. Nobody gave a shit on who the neighbour is? Who are these people next door and we were just, just a family! A simple us. Me, my dad and my mum ?.

I was growing old day by day. My dad would come late from the office. My mama would be engaged in regular work at home. Things were going okay I guess until one day.

I would hear the door bang, kitchen items fall, mama and papa shouting over one another. The small room at the corner with the four-sided wall was the only thing that read the sorrows and pain of my heart, my mind, and my soul. Well, what Heraclitus once said, “The only thing constant in life is Change”, The phrase is actually 100% correct. But, the sad thing of the word “change” is that it can never be trusted.  It can either bring you happy moments, beautiful adventure, soulful friends, or all the sadness you can even imagine.

This kind of thing became regular and to whom I shared all of my happiness and tears, were no more my mama and papa. How can things change up to this extent?

There exists one quote, “My father is a drunkard, and I shall be a drunkard”, anonymous. At the same time, the opposite, “My father is a drunkard and I shall never touch alcohol”, anonymous.

The time passed by and by. My heart started becoming smaller and smaller.

Did I do the worst thing in my previous life?
Was I the hell king on earth once?
Am I a cursed boy?
Can heavens not see my pain?
Am I fated to be fallen?

All this question made my path narrower and narrower. Humankind was no more the life I want to be born again. My parents had given me so much love and care that I was never depended on friends and I never made a single friend to whom I could give my heart to. I was alone in the room, I was alone in school, and I was alone in this crowded world.

“The world is not really a place for humans to reside”.

It’s been a year now. My mom got divorced from my father and as all say the things once lost cannot be recovered. I was staying with my mom but it was two different arenas now.

Dear God, Dear God
My father was once a hero,
My mama was once a God.
Me, My Papa, and my Mama.

But why?

Why can’t humanity rule over hatred?
Why am I in a hollow vessel of nothingness
The sun may shine, the moon may light,
But my bright world is always dark.

My father used to be my hero.
Giving me strength and wisdom
Sharing me the world of wonders
Until change, was not a trusted trust.

My mother used to be my God.
Gave me the life and the love.
Showed me the beauty the living has
Until change, was not a trusted trust.

The world is becoming empty,
With people making a bigger crowd.
And I am the only one,
And I am the only one

Dear God, Dear God
The pillow may take my tears,
the wall may hear my Pain,
But I am, am the only one

Of all, I have lost my Ace’s and grades in school, which would bring me appreciation. My happiness was getting confiscated. I have lost the ability to stay straight pulling out my chess with a smiley face. In a dilemma between good and bad. I guess my “change” has earned integrity to it, staying alone all the time. In a scale of 1 to 5, where one is saddest and 5 is happiest, mine is like 5,4,3,2,1 and 1 and 1 and 1. I was commuting with the universe alone having my mind; void.

If God, you can do one thing for me, please take me off this place. I can’t stand a place so silent while it is so crowded. I can’t, and I can’t.

Your Child
Long live the divinity.


It is been long now, you know? I have no ideas where my parents are. But I know I have earned my bachelor’s degree now, started working in a good organization, and that I am staying alone renting a space in the capital city, Thimphu. Maybe the wise man said it holding an experience, “What goes around comes around”. Guess what? I can hear my neighbours and some people coming from cabarets, do all sort of things, either at home or in the middle of the road at midnight. And people next door would say, “What the hell!!! The problem with this dump people never ends. Hearing them bang the door, throw hard earned thing, and shouting on one another, it disturbs me badly. Guess what all things are going on the child’s mind. Heart so petrified, situations repeating every day and mentally getting pulled towards negative world. A bequest for the upcoming generations.  The album left behind by the passage of time for it to repeat.

You know what I mean and I know it well right??

Post Script

In a world where human commute with the brighter side and darker side of humanity. There is always one or more soul which would get affected positively or negatively. This is Karan, a neighbour, in this story, not the one cursing the cause but the one who is getting affected. Although someone’s goods and achievements can bring you motivations and a positive vibe in your heart yet the smallest negative things that happen around you tend to affect you and have an impact way more than the greatest positive things happening around you. Just that we forget to count our blessing that we get ourselves dragged into the dark side of humanity.

This is Karan, an educator and a learner based in the Himalayas.