Charikot. December 22, 2013. 6:45 am.

The maroon-hued Toyota Scion was wading its path through the muddy hill roads to Charikot. Alone behind the wheel was Tenzing, a muscular man of mid-forties with a chiseled brown face, and a prominent goatee. He looked exhausted probably due to the relentless drive (three-hour long) from Kathmandu. It wasn’t even seven in the morning. And, no words could describe the turmoil that was going on inside those constricted Mongolian eyes of Tenzing.

Those slanted eyes, wide forehead, high rosy cheeks and small lips—all settled perfectly in that round face—would smile at Tenzing whenever he closed his eyes. How could he ever forget that sweet smell of her jet black curls, the dimple that formed on her left cheek whenever she smiled, the soft captive voice—and the bliss he felt in her company. She was his true love, his princess. He was so lost in thought that he needed to make a sharp right swerve at the last second to avoid the jeep fall deep below from road. The back tires skidded; the right side of the car went to graze and the engine stopped. Since the car didn’t even budge an inch however hard he pressed the accelerator pedal, he decided to continue the remaining journey on foot. Outside: it was cold, windy and the sky overcast, indicative of an impending rain.

The White Monastery was an octagonal building located at the top of a Charikot hill with its area measuring roughly around 20,000 square feet. It could be divided in major four outer wings and at the centre was a hall where prayers took place. Two wings functioned as dormitory for students and remaining two wings were used as a museum for ancient scriptures, idols, scrolls and rare artifacts. The hall was a high-ceilinged room with area equal to one-fourth the size of a football field. It had a life-size bronze statue of Buddha, in Bhumi sparsa Mudra. All walls, ceilings, pillars and steel structures of the room were either painted or carved with detailed figures and teachings related to Buddhism.

It had been almost two years since Sonam had left him. Seeking her, he had reached to every relative, friends, acquaintance; he had also filed a police report, but all in vain. It was as if she vanished into the thin air. When all his hope of seeing her had almost crashed, a call came yesterday from unknown village of Charikot with information relating the whereabouts of Sonam. He wouldn’t have believed had it not been the same voice of his missing princess. This was why he was walking uphill on foot to an unknown village in this chilly December morning.

For Sonam, it wasn’t unusual for the monastery to be alive early in the morning. Like every other day, students were busy preparing for their praying classes, workers were busy in cleaning, monks were preparing for their ritual, and Lamas, the main priests of monastery, had started chanting prayers and playing instruments and the old kitchen was humming as usual. She could smell, from her bed, the intense aroma of fir-incense that should have originated from main praying hall.

This long search would come to an end today. Tenzing was going to meet his lost gem. Without Tenzing’s know-how, she had left him in the hardest time when he had lost his wife. He believed the past wouldn’t matter as long as he could find Sonam. He will work hard to try to rectify his mistakes... Those train of thoughts were interrupted when the cold wind blowing from northern Himalayas increased its pace and nearly succeeded in blowing the blue, knitted muffler from his neck. Tenzing tugged the muffler deep inside his overcoat and quickened his pace. He loved Sonam even more than his late wife. Despite the fact that Tenzing knew he would never get a partner like his late wife, he couldn’t remain faithful with her. Even when she was on her deathbed, he was away in a silly business trip. At times he wished he could go back in time and tell her how much he loved her, how much she mattered to him…Those feelings as always induced pangs of guilt across his left chest, colder and sharper than the northern wind.

Sonam woke up from her bed. Then, she finished her morning chores in a few minutes, wrapped herself in fresh robes, grabbed her carry-on sack and made quick dash to the room of the Wise Lama, her mentor. He was meditating, seated in a lotus position just beneath the idol of Lord Buddha, with eyes closed and was counting the beads. She seated on a mattress aside the pedestal of Wise Lama and tried to focus.

“I sense different energy from you. Are you sure you are prepared to meet him?” Wise Lama asked.

“I don’t know... I just know I can resist him no more.”

“Everything will be fine. Follow your heart and have faith in the master,” Wise Lama replied. Then both of them bowed their head to their omnipotent master, Lord Buddha.

Tenzing’s knees were hurting badly and his breath was getting heavier. The life-size statues of Buddha on two ends of the gate gave him the feeling of close scrutiny once he entered inside. It seemed like he was expected, when a student monk came and directly led him outside the closed room where the Wise master and Sonam were praying. The prospect of meeting her any time soon escalated his heart-beat, blurred his focus and seized his throat. His hand felt way too stiff to knock on the door.

Tenzing was shocked when he saw Sonam seated, eye closed and deep in meditation beside the Wise Lama. But it wasn’t her posture that shocked him; it was her appearance: her black curls were long gone leaving behind just a shiny scalp; maroon robes had replaced her casual jeans and shirts and her rosy chubby body was transformed to pale, lean figure. He fought bravely to hold something welling behind his eyes and managed to croak Hi.

Although Sonam was prepared for their meeting today, she hadn’t expected him this early. She gave a sideways look to Wise Lama and though it would be wise to not disturb him, then went to attend the person at the door. “Let’s go out,” she said, closing the door. Tenzing followed her to a quiet place. She was 21 and nearly equalled his height. It seemed like what Tenzing managed to hold was hard for Sonam as she ran to his arms and cried. This time Tenzing either couldn’t or didn’t want to hold further.

After a long time, when Tenzing found his voice, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me all this time?”

“I needed time for myself. I need to get over my sorrow.”

“But why baby?” he asked pushing her gently and looking into her eyes.

“I feel happy here, I find myself and meaning of life over here. I am finally at peace.”

“Is this some punishment for how I treated your mother? I can’t describe how much I miss and love you,” he said.

“I also missed you badly, but this is just my choice, father—not any punishment. I will always love you, father.”

“Please forgive me, this will never happen again,” he reflected.

“To be honest, I used to put blame on you. But now I am a changed person. We all are following our karma. We are just voyaging in the wheels of life. There is nobody to blame.”

“As for forgiveness, it is the fundamental of Buddhism,” she added.

“Then don’t send this old man back empty handed? Let’s go home together,” he said.

She smiled and looked at him. Her eyes were reflecting the decision, long ago made.

“I am a monk, father. I pray, you accept my decision. I belong here, I belong to him.” Her eyes were fixed to those distant statues of Lord Buddha.

“My princess, how can you be so cruel to your old man. I will die if you leave me alone—”

He couldn’t continue for she had covered his mouth.

“Never speak like that father. Distance cannot separate us. We will always be together.” And she pointed to each other’s chest.

“I miss your mother badly,” he said hugging her more tightly.

“Me too.”

“I want to play with my grandchildren,” he said. She nudged him with her head.

“Can I come to meet you every day?” he asked.

“Anytime.”

Epilogue:

They spent all that day together. Fatefully, the clouds cleared and the day turned out to be a warm, sunny day. They cried, laughed, tried to patch up with the events of last two years and discussed their future plans. Promising to meet her again, he returned back to his house in Koteshwore, Kathmandu that same night. Even though he had failed to bring his daughter back to the house, he felt lighthearted and fell into a deep sleep. That night, in one of his deep dreams his late wife came near to him and whispered, “Thank you. I forgive you.”