The Weeping Willow

The Weeping Willow

Dear Students,

It is the beginning of a new season. And the blizzard has left me covered with the first snow of the year. As the golden ball comes out and the skies clear, the melting snow drops off me, flake by flake. I sniff. The tip of my nose gets reddened. Luckily for me, humans don’t understand our language, or you would have seen my cry…….

Do you remember me still? It’s been a while since we met last. But to me, it just looks like the other day.

That unforgettable morning, that is, the 2nd of June, my sog (life-force, seed), with a little bit of soil, gifted by the Forestry Department, was brought at the back of a Maruti Van.

The whole nation was going to celebrate the anniversary of K4’s Coronation Day in a grand manner. Some 500 seeds of different plants and trees were to be planted all over, within the school compound to mark the occasion.

I distinctly remember Class Captain Amit of XII Arts, 2005, who obtained me from the Green House where I was lying, with all other fellow brethren, unduly worried about my future. Amit, that expatriate teacher – what was his name? – RNB, and that rebel of a girl, Lalita, were in the same group. The rest of the class or should I say, school, was divided into similar groups of three.

Even in a place like Tshimalakha, Amit had sweats pouring off his forehead by the time he was done with the digging of pits, assigned for my upkeep, and a couple more. No, no, you don’t have to correct me by pointing it out that each group was responsible for digging one pit and taking care of one seedling only. I know, I know but Amit, being the darling of CCS, just lent a hand to a few other groups.

On opening my eyes the next day, how happy I was to find me given such a central place of importance!

It still seems like yesterday only when Lalita – what a girl she was! – tore the plastic wrapper from around the seedling, handed it to their Class Teacher and asked him to plant it carefully. I heard her telling RNB as they knelt down to dig out the soil, put me in the centre and fill up the pit with the scattered soil.

“You know, Sir, we Bhutanese believe that if this Willow, survives, lives for long, we’ll also thrive and prosper in life.” A little shy, turning to him with those doe-like eyes, she informed him.

Having heard this, the tall, lanky, bespectacled teacher wasted no time in requesting Amit to hurry up and find some sticks for making a fencing around me.

That’s how I debutted at the famed institute of Knowledge and Learning.

So many years have passed since then. Today, if you happen to come to CCS, you will find me standing majestically in the lawn in front of the administrative block. How I have grown in the last seventeen years! Now, I have my well-formed, well-spread-out limbs for providing shade to the teachers and the taught alike, especially in summer when the temperature may go up to 40°C. Almost every working day, the staff come out and sit beneath me during the break with their tea and samosa made by – who else? – but that dear Didi.

I have so much to tell you but due to the time constraint, I’ll have to shorten this one. I see new faces in different moods around me all the times, many romances building up, betrayals, rejections and what not! But what I witnessed towards the fag end of last January, really shook me up.

The Workshop on Teaching Pedagogy had just concluded. The school went back to wearing its normal desolate look round about this time as usual. It was a chilly, wintry afternoon to begin with. Swaying in the sharp wind blowing across the lawn, I thought I saw a solitary, familiar face turning stealthily round the XII Block and heading towards the locked-up administrative building.

As he came closer, his face registered in my mind. It had to be him! Surely, he looked aged by now, the upright frame was starting to bend down a little ( Poor RNB! Life hasn’t been very kind to him. I heard the message from the breeze rustling through me just the other night!), the hairline had started receding during his last few years here, but now he was totally bald, without any hair! And I wasn’t sure if he wore contact lenses but he certainly didn’t have the glasses on!

“Dear, dear RNB! What a pleasant surprise! What wind brings you back?” I tried asking him through one of my limbs at the bottom. My fingers gently touched the back of his neck before stretching out to caress his face.

He fondly looked up at me and stepped into the lawn. Putting his shaky hands around me, he hugged me firmly around the body with a look – how do I describe it? – with a look of the greatest pride and tenderness. Did I see some tears coursing down his cheeks as he whispered?

“Dearest Willow, I’m so happy to see you up and kicking. I’ve been thinking about my students, colleagues and of you a lot lately. Glad that you have made it through the rough times and look so solid, loving and welcoming, My friend…”

“But how about you, RNB? Tell me about Your Success Story. Tell me that you have lived a contented, fulfilled life…” I asked him, trying to take him in my limbs as well.

Well, he didn’t understand me either! Did I detect a sob in his voice when he whispered?

“I don’t know if I can come back to this Blessed Land again. In case, I can’t make it, tell them, tell them – when they are back in February and the holy air of CCS is surcharged with their laughter, happiness and joy – that I loved them from my heart. Tell them to keep some space in their hearts for me? Will you, Dearest Willow? ”

Humans don’t understand our language. Otherwise, he would have been really sad seeing me cry…….

Au revoir. Take care. Keep finding your destined places in life. Never ever let that smile go off your face. Stay happy, Stay blessed.

With love and nothing but the very best,

Sincerely,

The Weeping Willow