Morning Call!

Perhaps, ten years is too long to not post what one writes. I have realized that the lesser I write, I lesser I read, the lesser I think and the lesser I can actually articulate. Hence, I will continue writing, again. 

Have you wondered, why are we, the Bhutanese people, always obsessed with being the FIRST or the LAST? Like, I am the first travel blogger or vlogger, or THE LAST thing sold, or the FIRST guy to SMELL FART after FARTING in the a green bag? Why do we do that? Subconsciously, I reckon, many things have been implanted in our heads, that it is somehow too late to change, unknowingly, we have accepted the norms so much so, that we have started to believe what could be or couldn't be truthful. 

But that's not what I wanted to share. I just wanted to write about an incident, which I haven't written or told. Albeit my wife tells me time and again, that apart from my work or related to my work, I cannot communicate. I feel, after spending certain number of years with your spouse, whether a man would fully know his wife or not, is still arguable, however, a wife, will surely know everything about her man. We, men are very bad at keeping secrets or being deceptive or for that matter, in simple English, we are idiots, we are simple beings with simple things. Nevertheless, underpinning what my wife rightfully thinks and to prove her right for the thousandth time, I will write about something that is work related. 

We would work late night hours and after few events, nobody cared. We worked like night owls, and we had our own cheap thrills, for most of us, those were quenching our nicotine cravings. I was senior enough to not work at office and relevant enough, not to be disturbed before 10:30 am, perks of being important perhaps? Anyway, nobody from my own firm called me before that time, because mostly, everybody knew that I would be sleeping. It was something I had earned, a reputation to not be disturbed in the morning. 

However, there was a call, from unknown number. People can pay extra to our telecommunication firms, to be shady, to be secretive or to just be creepy. Yeah, in the name of privacy, you can literally be a prick or goofy enough, to appear as PRIVATE NUMBER or UNKNOWN number in someone's phone screen. 

Had it been in Australia, I would have rejected the call. I have never in my life, had so many scammers call me in past one year than anywhere else, and I studied in India for four years! 

It was morning then, in Bhutan, and I was disturbed. I saw 'UNKNOWN NUMBER is Calling', and thought of cancelling, usually I always keep my phone on silent. A habit, I inculcated and maintained over the years, a habit forced upon me for working in Construction Industry. Yeah, you never know who will call you at what time, and for that matter, ask you things you didn't know or did know! I used to have calls while pooping, and one of my previous bosses in PHPA, always had a habit of asking two things the moment I received his call: Kaha Hoo? Kya Kaar ra hai hoo? (Where are you? What are you Doing?). And I was everywhere, and doing everything. Meaning, I was at times in toilet, bathroom, bar, hotel, shady pubs, etc., and was often pooping, about to take shower, or simply sleeping... 

However, this particular PRIVATE NUMBER, which I saw, and was about to cancel, for some reason, I picked up. You see, there are moments in life, when you do things, you don't want to, but you do it as a reflex or something. I wanted to cancel, but my thumb just moved it to receive it, like I wasn't in control. 

Hello! Is this... a man spoke from the other end. 

I know this voice, I said to myself. I have heard this voice, and I know this one is someone famous! 

Yes, I said. 

Oh okay. Sir, could you help me design and renovate my home la? I got your number from a friend of mine, and I would like to meet you la. 

I know this voice, I again said this to myself. I have heard this voice somewhere, and I am quiet not sure.. where, but I knew that voice, I had heard it so many times not to forget! 

Oh las, I said. I don't do it directly, but I can have a site visit and I can come over la. 

Okay la. I am in Phuentsholing at the moment, I will be in Thimphu on Monday la. Can I meet you on Tuesday morning la? At 9 am? 

I thought, 9 am? Really? I am too senior to get up at 9 am, I said to myself. But I didn't. 

I just said, may I know who I am speaking to la? 

He then dropped his name, in a casual way... 

The entire conversation happened when I was in my bed, faced towards ceiling, my eyes still closed and phone slightly supported to my right ear, I nor my had was putting an effort to hold my phone. But when the name was revealed, as a reflex, just like a possessed human by spirits so wild, I within few secs found myself in bed, but my torso was perpendicular to my legs! 

La, la, lass... Lyonpo! I said. 

Okay so, see you on Tuesday, Dawa. Nice talking to you. 

Las la.. las.. but your excellency, I don't have your number! 

Oh, don't worry. I will text you in a while. 

I received his text. The following week, I took my best friend and introduced him as the architect.

There's no moral of this story, that's why it is called blogging. This is not the first, or the last time, I just blabbered what I wanted to. Perhaps, that's a blog. And yeah, everything you do in Bhutan, it can be first, higher chances being first than last. You can be the first man to visit Congo from Bhutan or Kangaroo Islands or for that matter, who knows, the first person to make love to a goat! But know this, you will not be the last person to have made love to a cow, and be imprisoned! 

Goodnight! 

Ps: I won't reveal the name, for he was a very senior Minister, pre-democracy. I don't know why, but when I come across them, respect just flows... new ones? I can't take them seriously.