21 June,2010 10:38 AM IST | | Shubir Rishi
So one day, the silence became a little unbearable. Catcalls and making faces at him was not working at all. Naturally, we decided to take matters in our own hands. Thinley sneaked behind the chorten, took off his shoelace, and tied Tashi's bakhu strap to the chorten. Tashi was in never- never land, dreaming about his next fill of Thukpa, his head slumped over his chest; making him look like a yak ufffd about to charge, but snoring loudly.u00a0
I was ready with the pebbles, and hurled a handful of them on the sleeping form of Tashi. Nothing happened. Undaunted, I tried again. Nothing still. In his dreams, Tashi was probably in the Major Dome, gulping down the piping hot thukpa, served by the grand lama himself.
Thinley was an impatient boy. Arm raised high, well above his head, he threw the tennis ball, with all his might at Tashi. That did the trick. The ball landed right on Tashi's belly, and he woke up with a loud yell of 'Jedddddaaah' (Bhutanese equivalent for oh crap!). He tried to get up, but the shoe-string held him back firmly. A little confused, he tugged the string hard, which snapped. All this skirmish was a bit too much for the ancient chorten, and it began to sway.
We all watched in horror, as the huge stone atop the chorten came loose, and came crashing down on Tashi's head. We also saw it break in to two ufffd the stone, that is. Tashi rose from the debris to his full height, and in true Zen-like fashion, looked up at the now headless Chorten, and declared, " Its not the sky yet."u00a0 Having done that, he carefully rearranged the two halves of the stone under his head, and went back to sleep. Footnote: Tashi shifted base to the school playground, under the basketball pole that very day. No one dared to move him ufffd ever.