It was a bizarre scene. Now that I reflect on it, I still cannot believe that it happened. It was a Tshechu time- the time for festivity. Everyone was decked in their best outfit and I had planned to be with my family for the occasion. I had my lunch packed and my children dressed in their best attire and got in my car to drive to the dzong. On the way I had planned to drop a gift I had friend whom I hadn’t meet for a couple of years.
As I neared her house, it looked deserted. The garden was over grown with the weeds and wild plants. I looked at my mother who was sitting beside me questioningly. She assured me that my friend was inside. I stopped the engine of the car and got out with the gift in my hand. I walked gingerly and knocked. I heard someone coughing. I pushed the door ajar which opened with a crack.
The interior looked like it had never seen the air. The place looked damp and dusty. Pieces of broken woods were laying every where. The smell of alcohol could be felt from the door. I called her name and walked inside leaving my footprint on the floor. A tiny figure lay in the bed of shambles. The floor of the bed room was no better than the hall that I had passed. The empty bottles were scattered everywhere which spelt her addiction. She tried to get up from her bed and smiled meekly. I was shocked. The face I was seeing was that of a stranger. The familiarity and her knowing smile had disappeared replaced by the sad eyes which spoke volumes of her sorrow. Tears welled up in my eyes to see her wasting away her life and I broke down in front of her like a child. I forgot about my mother and children waiting in the car and just sat with her holding her hands and cried… (To be continued….)