"All that glister are not gold."

In life, some people impact your life profoundly. Their humility or humanity win you hands down. You realize that you have nothing but admiration, adoration, adulation…..love and respect for them. I have been lucky at least in one respect. Almost all the Heads I have worked under so far have been absolutely fantastic to me. One such great human being is my former Principal, Mr. Yesh Bdr. Ghalley. I met him for the first time on 24^th May, 2006 in his office at Chhukha Higher Secondary School. I had had a brief glimpse at him when he came to Chapcha Middle Secondary School sometime earlier. I couldn’t even wish him during his visit as he was quite busy.

On 24^th, after I had met him, he called Mr. Yang Dorji, the V.P. and asked him to help me with the accommodation and that is how it all began. Soon I came to know, what a popular Principal he was. Starting with Madam Wangmo, the other V.P. to late Ata Tashi, the care-taker of the school at that time, Mr. Y.B.Ghalley was the apple of everyone’s eye. I have rarely seen anyone more popular with the staff and students alike. Sir had the habit of addressing every teacher as Lobey. It became a trend at CHS at that time.

One day, on my way back to the quarter, I found a ring. I thought it was a golden ring. I had no intention of keeping it, nor did I have any urge to give it back to anyone unless s/he looked for it. Fortunately or unfortunately, no one ever bothered about that ring. The ring stayed in a corner of my bedroom, neglected but not forgotten. Soon afterwards, I went down to Kolkata for the Summer Break. On a gloomy, steamy day, after my return from Kolkata, I received an unexpected call from my sister and wife back home informing about my mother. Her health had deteriorated all on a sudden and they were taking her to hospital. I sought out Mr.Y.B.Ghalley half an hour after the call. He was busy supervising something in a corner of the Boys’ Hostel. Mr. K.R.Pillai, the teacher-cum-warden was along with him. On hearing about the purpose of my coming up to the hostel, Mr. Y.B. Ghalley, without the least bit of hesitation, granted me his consent. I did not waste any more time in going down to the Zero Point. On the way, I met a colleague from the south, Mr. Bijuman Scaria, out on a walk with some friends of his. On learning about my predicament, he took out a five-hundred rupee note from his purse and handed it to me with the request: “Sir, please keep it. You may need this on the way ….” (Why is the world not full of people like them?) I spent that night with one Mr. Thukten, the BoD Manager at Gedu. Another friend who lost some much-needed sleep after a hard day’s work, just to give me company!

When I got down to Kolkata, Ma was in a coma in the ICU. She did not regain her consciousness till the day before her demise. The day she looked all right again, the doctors had her shifted to a general ward. But that was just temporary and by the evening she was back to the ICU. I had been in Kolkata close to a week by then. Naturally, I was getting not a little worried. Most of the people in Tsimalakha did not know me. A few days before Ma’s miraculous recovery, I had called Sir to seek his opinion regarding my course of action. He asked me to have faith in God and that things would turn out to be all right once again. The day Ma was taken up to the ICU again, I called Mr. Yesh Bdr. Ghalley. I was in a fix. The doctor had told me earlier that Ma might be in that state for six days or months! I was crying when I called Sir. He realized my situation straight away and asked me not to worry. His concern, the calm manner in which he talked to me had a soothing effect at that time.

11^th August, 2006 will always be one of the most horrifying days of my life. After a prolonged illness, Ma passed away. My nephew, my spouse and I poured the last drop of water from a spoon down her already defunct throat at the request of the doctor. Soon another young intern closed her eyes. My world was not going to be the same anymore. For the final rites we had to go to Babughat, a place of a half hour’s distance from my ancestral home. After the hair on my head was shaven off and while I was taking off my shirt, I found the ring stuck in a corner of my pocket. I took it in my hand, looked at it, realized that all that glisters are not gold and threw it away with all my might into the water.

I was back in Tsimalakha almost after 3 weeks. I met Sir in his office the next day. I had already faxed the Death Certificate to him. In my presence, he took the copy from my outstretched hand, turned it over and hurriedly scribbled something on the back. Then he pushed the paper across the table towards me. Written on the back were the words: The civil servant is entitled to Bereavement Leave as per the existing rule etc…

First time I learnt about Bereavement Leave. First time, I came across someone, outside the family circle as a gem of a human being. First time, the all pervasive meaning of the word “HUMANITY” was grilled down my head into my whole being. Such kind-hearted people are becoming a rarity in a world being crippled by jealousy, hatred, narrow- mindedness, selfishness and a host of other such vices.

At the request of Mr. Tashi Chonjur, who replaced Mr. Y.B.Ghalley as the next Principal of CHS, I penned this article which was published in Bhutan Times on 31st October, 2009.