climb up Teenage and the purpose
                          chapter 1                                          

I was crying by holding my mum. I can't even remember what actually I murmured in her ears but at least I know it was something like this, "I don't want to leave you. I won't study..." So my story just starts with the departure. How would a 6 years old girl figure out what life has kept for her?

It was about four hours journey and I was on the lab of my uncle little excited for seeing the car for the first time. And I wondered what if my papa, mummy and my little brother Roshan be with me.We were heading towards one of the remotest place kabesa, punakha. The stiff cliff of Wangdi made me more miserable and the red texture of the soil gave me tiredness. We reached at Sirigang,the place where the road of Kabesa ended. So we had to climb up the hill towards the scattered village. 

I was admitted in class PP in 1999 in kabesa lower secondary school, and it was really a tough year for me. We were five at my uncle's house; me, and my two cousin sisters along with their two children. It was hard for him even to support us both financially. Our expenditure would exceed his salary. But excellently he would manage everything for us. His son, one year younger than me Isaac was also admitted with me.

It was my first day school. I placed at the third row, a dark colored girl with tears in her eyes. It was a challenge for me. The dashing and the noises like a cacophony of the innocent children under the hot sun with full dress code. And for a Shy and timid girl like me, it was a hell. 

The morning prayer started with the sweet tones of our seniors interrupted with the cacophony made by us. The students of my batch including myself were all busy in our own small dreams. Shortly after the assembly, I can still remember a fat and bold headed boy slapping me and humorously my younger brother fighting for me. 

We were asked to follow one male teacher, really handsome and energetic teacher with a long green book in his hand. And we were following him like in the pied piper of Hamelin. 

We were at our class howling and dragging the tables. Our class teacher gave each one of us the seats. We were divided into groups of five all mixed. Unluckily the same boy who slapped me was also in my group. I feared him so much then after.

'Nga choegi lopeon ain..' our teacher said at the very first meet of which the meaning I knew only later, I am your teacher. His name was Sangay Tenzin and was the first person whom I called 'sir'. He was so gentle to deal with the wild children like us. I liked him from the first time itself.

It took only several weeks to learn Dzongkha dialect for me, by mingling with so many friends. And after one month I began to tell," my name is Hannah Rai". 

We started to shout, "Good morning Sir" when our sir came and was followed by "thank you sir" when he said to sit down. It became usual thing from then.

It was so difficult for me. My kira would be hanging with tailed Kera. The shoes would turn into dusty rock. And another major problem was I would get lost finding my class, but thanks to my cousin sisters of class four and six who helped me.