Gardening the Bhutanese Way

Sunday, April 27, 2014

The Implacable Torment

The beads of perspiration clinging to every bit of my hair, dripping and meandering its lane over the surface of my body agitates me. The heat-induced lethargy would have the enthusiasm and progress of my daily endeavor deterred. I feel like I am being confined to a burning furnace. I remain inside the seclusion of the four walls of my room or classroom during the day time.

I become more of a nocturnal, stirring out of my den only when dusk superimposes the daybreak. Most of my time would be fleeting in taking shower where even twice a day wasn't a satiable one. Sweats keep on creeping now and then out of my body and trickling its way that agitates me immensely.

My four years of lodging in the tropic hasn't done much to acclimatize my body to the intense heat. Neither has it changed my attitude towards it. Ever since it takes its toll from mild warmth to the intolerable roasting heat, I land up protesting in a no-win situation.

In my agitated mood, I run to the bathroom to get some relief. Rather my agitation gets magnified when the hot water steams upon my body. I scuttle over to the terrace to gasp some fresh air, but the hot air circulating had a rather choking effect on me. I revisit my room, a reservoir of sizzling air and surrender myself under the fan that swirls and twirls the hot air within my room.

Even my bed became a place abandoned. The place which drew me instinctively and instantly for the rest of the season had me repelled for this particular season. The role that my blanket played in ushering me warmth became an asset of complete obsolescence.

The solutions worked out provided but a very little effect. I go out in dire anticipation of a mild air for cool air is a thing that I would term as being completely incongruous. The mosquitoes hovering and buzzing around my ears would be a thing of total dismay. In addition, the throbbing sting that it plunges into my tender flesh really vexes me. The ensuing scratches would be to the extent of bruising me.

In utter despair, I stride towards my bed, trusting the shield provided by the mosquito net. It does wonder in warding off the notorious creatures but it did an equally incredible work of blocking the air that I would die for. Enclosed and delimited by the case, I would remain rooted and heated a convalescent on the bed.

At least during the days, I was freed from the prickly attack of the mosquitoes. Contrary to the nocturne played by the mosquitoes, there is a roaring uproar of diurnal creatures. It keeps on illegally rummaging over all my stuff. This group of notorious creatures; the houseflies used to have a quick landing on the port of my body, irritating and titillating me with the sliding run-way they make over my body.

 Needless to mention that I bathe twice a day for these creatures are shameless enough to budge their filthy legs over mine. It isn't a rare thing to spot their corpse embedded in the rice and curries, and floating over curd and soups. The moment I spot them, my appetite clicks in the reverse direction. And as dusk overtakes the bright hue of the daylight, these creatures congregate over the ceilings like prayer beads in succession.
This is the height of destitution that I was thrown into amid mending my way for a brighter future; the day and night’s torment by these creatures coupled with the soaring temperatures.

With an intense heat as this, I can almost prophesy that I am going to be roasted, with the effect that I will be refined as fine as a toast. I am skeptical as to whether my peers and relatives could recognize me when I return to my serene native place.

This is the height of destitution that I was thrown into amid mending my way for a brighter future; the day and night’s torment by these creatures coupled with the soaring temperatures.





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