The heartwarming story of Karma Bhutia

A true story by Prakash Subbarao (Prakash@3xus.com)

I met Karma in Calcutta in 1975.

Karma is a Sikkimese who, at first glance, looks frightening – his eyes mere slits, the forehead broad, the face foreboding. The first impression is one of menace. However, a nicer guy I have yet to meet.

Picture a beautiful valley in Sikkim with the Himalayas as a backdrop. There are flowers everywhere and bees drone by sullenly while colorful butterflies flit jerkily to and fro. There is a lovely stone cottage set amidst colorful plants and trees. It has an ancient looking chimney poking into the sky. A wisp of smoke emerges from the chimney, indicating that food is being cooked. It looks like a scene straight out of the picture postcards. There is even a gurgling brook nearby fully stocked with fish.

This was the house that Karma lived in as a child. His father was a rich landlord and they grew spices extensively on their land, mainly cardamom. Karma was seven years old and had a sister aged five.

Karma’s mother was a small built woman who bustled around the house and cooked delicious meals for them. She radiated warmth and affection. Karma smiled at her whenever she went past and she, in turn, mussed his head affectionately.

Karma’s father was an illiterate farmer with a boisterous laugh. He spent the days in the fields and the evenings, at home, in front of the fire, drinking the local brew. On weekends he visited his friends at a nearby village about five kilometers away where they gambled with dice.

Karma and his sister walked several kilometers a day to the nearest school. They walked barefoot, as was the customary in those days.

The daily walk to and from the school was a very exciting one. They passed through green dales and valleys, copses of bamboo, dark blue rivers, where they paused for a few minutes to throw stones, skimming them on the surface and screaming in delight at the trajectory of the flat stones. It was an idyllic world they lived in.

Karma was a good student. His teacher saw promise in him and used to mention this to his mother whenever she visited the school to check on his progress.

One day, Karma’s world abruptly turned upside down.

It happened one Saturday night. His father was at his usual gambling session when all the participants, perhaps in a better mood than usual, drank more than they should have. In a drunken frenzy they raised the stakes to dangerous levels. In one game, Karma’s father wagered his cardamom fields against that of a rival gambler’s. And lost. Next to go was the house. He staggered home, drunk and depressed, and fell into bed.

The next morning the person who had won the house came by to ask when they would hand over possession to him. Karma’s mother, shocked, confronted her husband. He couldn’t bear to look at her and hung his head in shame, wringing his hands wretchedly. She realized with a shock that the fool had gambled away his family’s life.

Though there was no written agreement, and therefore the Bhutia’s could have escaped by denying the previous night’s wager, the thought never occurred to them. In those days a man’s word was honoured at all costs.

“Please give us a few days to find a suitable accommodation and we shall leave” Karma’s mother pleaded. “Certainly!” the new owner graciously replied. And so it came about that a few days later, the family bundled the few belongings they had and left the house with heavy hearts. All of them were crying.

All they had of value was the jewelry that belonged to Karma’s mother. This was soon sold to provide for the family and somehow they pulled on. They had moved to a shanty at the outskirts of a nearby town. There was a government school nearby and Karma and his sister were admitted there, since the education was free of cost. The family couldn’t afford to buy text books for the children and so Karma and his sister would have to concentrate really hard during class so that they retained all that was being taught.

The shock of having her entire life turned upside down proved too much for Karma’s mother. When the children were away at school, she sat sobbing in the shanty, deeply distressed and unable to summon the energy even to cook. What little food that was available was kept for the children. Soon, unaccustomed to the draughts and chill of the shanty, she developed pneumonia and died a few weeks later.

Karma and his sister cried for weeks. They had lost their lifeline. They did not know what to do. Each clung to the other for support. Somehow they managed to pull on.

Being illiterate, Karma’s father could earn money only by being a labourer on daily wages. He returned home late every evening drunk, unconcerned whether the children had had anything to eat. Somehow Karma fended for both of them and he begged, borrowed or stole food so that he and his sister could survive.

Karma attended classes at the Government School and insisted that his sister do the same. “It’s what our mother would have wanted” he told her, when she cried and refused to go. Both the children were good students.

The years passed, painfully slow.

One day Karma’s teacher called him aside after class and told him to ask his father to come and meet him. When several days passed and no father had turned up, he asked Karma why his father had not come to see him. “Because I never asked him to. My father is dead” the little boy defiantly replied. The teacher looked long at him and slowly nodded.

“Come here, Karma. Sit next to me” the teacher said. Taking Karma’s hands in his own the teacher went on “I read about a government scholarship where children who do well get to go to a school in India. There is a test next month in Gangtok. I would like you to study and prepare for the test”.

“But I do not have any text books” the little boy replied.

“Don’t worry about that. I will give you the text books” the kindly teacher told him.

Karma could study only after his father had returned home and gone to sleep. Since there was no electricity in the shanty, he would have to go out and sit under an electric street light and study. He didn’t want to leave his sister alone during the evenings; especially after his father returned home. So the little boy would wait till he heard the regular snores of his father before quietly slipping away to study. It was bitterly cold and his teeth would chatter. He painted a lonely, desolate picture, sitting all alone on the deserted street late at night, absorbing the contents of the text books. Stray dogs and the bats flitting about were his only company.

A month later his teacher again called him aside. “The entrance test is next week at Gangtok”. He told him. “Stay after school and I will give you a test. Let me see how well you have studied”. That evening, Karma passed the test with flying colours. He had answered all questions correctly.

That night a group of townsmen met at the teacher’s house. He had invited them for a special discussion. They came in wondering what he wished to say to them to them.

“This boy, Karma, who studies in my class is very intelligent” he told them. He went on to reveal to them the shocking events of the past few years that had led to the children being practically orphaned. “I want him to take the public exam next week” the teacher went on. “I will take him to Gangtok. I need some financial support for this. I propose that we all pool in and share the expenses”.

“But why should he sit for a public exam?” they asked.

“Because if he gets selected, he will get a free education through a Government of Sikkim scholarship and will be able to get out of this rotten situation” the teacher replied.

There were nods of agreement and murmurs of assent. No one objected.

A week later Karma and the teacher boarded a bus for Gangtok.

The little boy did very well and felt confident that he would probably get a scholarship. He was feeling happy after a long time. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be happy.

“Where will I get admission if I succeed, Sir?” he asked his teacher.

“If you do very well, you will get admission to St. Paul’s School in Darjeeling” he told the wide eyed boy. “The school is located at 7,500 feet above sea level and is considered the highest public school in the world! It is over a hundred years old!”

Karma closed his eyes and tried visualizing the school. He could see beautifully Victorian stone structures with elegantly tiled gable roofs against a backdrop of the mighty Himalayas”. He smiled to himself. He was slowly beginning to grow excited.

A few days after they had returned, the teacher received a telegram. “KARMA BHUTIA ADMITTED TO ST. PAULS, 8^TH STANDARD ON SIKKIM GOVERNMENT SCHOLARSHIP. REPORT TO SCHOOL ON 10^TH FEBRUARY, 9 AM.”

10^th February was a good month away. Karma shivered with excitement. It was the first time that he would be leaving Sikkim. He was leaving his country and going to a neighboring one! He just couldn’t wait to get there. “I will come back later for my sister, and take her away with me” he told himself.

A week later a second telegram arrived. “IGNORE EARLIER TELEGRAM RE ADMISSION TO ST. PAULS. KARMA BHUTIA ADMITTED DR. GRAHAMS HOMES, KALIMPONG. REPORT THERE 10^TH FEBRUARY 9 AM”.

“Karma, there has been a change in schools” his teacher told him. “You won’t be going to St. Paul’s after all. You will instead go to Dr. Graham’s Homes in Kalimpong”.

Karma’s face fell. He felt disappointed, confused. His visions of the school in his mind shattered like a mirror struck with a stone. He ran blindly from the room, in confusionPrakash’s note: Sikkim, in those days, was a different country, having refused to accede to India after Independence. Karma Bhutia really exists in this world. And yes, his name is really Karma Bhutia..

After having walked for an hour aimlessly he gathered his wits around him. “Let me find out what the Kalimpong school is like” he thought to himself. “I wonder where Kalimpong is! I’ll go and ask my teacher”. He ran towards the school.

As he approached the teacher’s room, he could hear him talking inside to someone else. “Poor fellow! He did very well in the test and should have got that seat! I was shocked when they changed schools and I telephoned the Ministry of Education. The clerk at the other end told me in confidence that a minister pulled strings to get his son admitted to St. Paul’s. That’s why they switched him to Dr. Graham’s Homes”.

Karma turned and ran, sobbing. To the little boy the whole world appeared to be turning against him.

He didn’t know then that this would actually be the best thing that ever happened to him.

…………………to be continued.

Prakash’s note:

1. Sikkim, in those days, was a different country, having refused to accede to India after Independence.
2. Karma Bhutia really exists in this world. And yes, his name is really Karma Bhutia.