8 hours and a minute glimpse!

We travelled to Tsirang yesterday. Earlier, i had cajoled Choden to move in the School bus so that i would be able to accommodate my aging parents in my car. Ofcourse, she consented to it but with loads of false accusations. "I will follow the bus closely", i ensured her and the kids. It was barely morning when we commenced our journey; my grumbly mother, my bulky father, my as-silent-as-grave niece and my erratic nephew. None of us talked much because mom told me that it was utter indiscipline to chit-chat while making religious sojourn.
                   Except for the prayer that mom incessantly muttered, everything was silent. I wished Choden was in the car. She would always light up the moment with her trifles. She would talk about the duplicate broom that she mistakenly bought from a Boro pheasant. She would boast about her 3 am-wake up time while i would complain about the weird alarm from her chinese mobile phone. She would talk about how she cooked the pack lunch, all single-handedly.
                                                         Some three hours later, we were at Tsirang only to be embarrassed that hundreds had already queued. I volunteered to stand in the queue while mother and father duo rested in a hotel sipping over the tea. I regularly checked on them to see if all was alright and more so to spy if father was drinking! He has that nasty habit. He would explain me about the car sickness if i catch him drinking. 
Moving at a snail's pace, it took another four hours in the queue to finally get the glimpses of those sacred objects of Buddha & co that was brought all the way from India.
 "Joba joba joensh la", the cop shouted at us sternly. Within a minute we were out of that famed hall that housed all those important relics. I wished if i got another round but that was not possible since thousands had already lined up by that time.
"What did you see?", i teased Choden. She gave her frozen quizzical smile. "What did you see?", she returned back.
 I tossed a 50 Nu. at a donation box that supposedly boasted of some chorten construction somewhere.
There were other forms of donations to be made if one was too forgiving but i had to with hold all those attachments temporarily.
We hurried back to Norbuling, the other side of Maukhola, also the blind spot of DPT and PDP governments! Things are different at this side but that is another story.