Tatopani (Tibet Nepal Border)
It is February 17, 2010. I am with my younger brother waiting, excited and well prepared to meet our beloved Dad who we have not met for many years — I for five and my brother for ten. I know my brother’s joy would know no bounds when he meets dad.
Unfortunately the chinese border guards do not allow dad to come even to the centre of the demarcration line. They have demanded plenty of money from him to meet us. Dad is a poor man and has large family to support, so he naturally cannot afford the kind of money that these chinese greedy policemen are asking.
I cannot find any words to this situation and salty tears well up in my eyes and stream down on my cheeks.
We wait and decided to talk to dad on a cell phone. Finally a sherpa man helps us to get hold of a phone and we talk to him across the border. We listen to dad’s voice but it is unclear and in a very low pitch. At the same time we see his blurred figure on the other side waving hands to us.
In such a condition the hours go by like seconds, night is drawing close, we have to go. Under the roof of a fine Nepal day, tears flow, two brother’s hearts are cloth in to sorrow.
I believe that time wipes out many thing, but it never wipes away the tears of that day. It is ever fresh in my mind.