The Rush

Well, I was supposed to be at Thimphu on 22nd . But I was all around Bhutan by 20th itself because BBS Dawa peeled few layers out of me during a live panel discussion on BBS related to housing and business problems in Phuentsholing. My six years old son thought I looked like a dumbo on the stage with sweats kneading down my chin. Even by 23rd noon, I was still in the office sorting my paper. I was desperate now. Maybe my fellow panelists from City Corporation needed to help me by sending a garbage truck and few people to clean my mess. It took me another hour to help me sort out everything before I could drive to Thimphu. That was about being an office-goer. There is this another side of me, a small part time writer. So this writer side of me had stolen some time between the lazy office time to write pieces of stories, poems and critical essays. Once in a while, this writer side of me gets some compliments by getting to travel and keep me off the work and this time too I was lucky to have been invited to Oslo. Well, everything was ready. It is just that I was still on the road. When I reached Olakha, I called Pem Deki. She owed me Vodka. I deserve a Vodka. Actually, I needed a Vodka. I needed a Vodka because the part left by my ex-girl needed to be filled with something else. Filling it with dry straw didn't make sense. This is how I justify myself to drink. Isn’t that strong enough? Well, when I reached Pem Deki’s house, I was kind of nervous. Her two children and her husband were waiting for me. So I opened my bag and handed over the gifts I had brought along for the kids. They were not very impressed. I thought all children loved candies but I guess Pem Deki’s children were disciplined. This was the first time I was coming face to face with Pem Deki’s husband too. He looked huge and bearly with his height and lots of hair on his body but he was nice and friendly. So we sat there talking and drinking. Well, Pem Deki and her husband drank tea and I was the only one drinking Vodka. Over few hours of drinking, eating and talking, I realized how beautifully Pem Deki had managed her family. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the sacrifices she had put to keep her family together. Very few people in Bhutan would blend family and work like Pem Deki and her husband did. I was jealous of them now. My marriage had broken down two years ago and relationship in between had been torn apart. There was this loneliness creeping inside like a venomous serpent but here was one family which showed me where I went wrong. I guess it was time for me to squeeze past many things in my life to get it straight but before that I needed to get up from the sofa. I asked Pem Deki’s six years old daughter to help me stand on my feet. When I was finally up, I picked her up and kissed her. As always I struggled to my car and after that I forgot how I reached my sister’s house. When I woke up next morning, I wasn’t sure if I was dead or alive. Whether I was dead or alive didn’t matter now. I was getting late for the flight. So without a second thought, I rushed to my car and shot to the airport. I was there just as the gate was closing. Since I was the last guy to check in, I got the seat near the toilet. It was a double advantage for me. I could go to the toilet without having to swing myself on the aisle and I could also ask for one shot of bloody mary to get rid of hang over. While in Bangkok airport, I found a place to sleep until 1 in night. When I woke up, I was getting late again so I rushed with a Heineken in my hand. I was laughing at myself as I sipped the beer. I guess blessings are rushed sometimes so much so that we need beer and not vodka to handle the rush. So I have now softened myself from Vodka to beer. Maybe someday, I would be more soft when I transit to juice.


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