Name : Dhendup...

Age: Twenty Three...

Qualification: Class XI appeared....appeared occasionally....

Meet Dhendup. No one knew his real name in school. They knew him very well though. He was “Centre Shock” in school. With one full container of Gel gone into maintaining his spike like hairs, his name did send some message.
As a local guardian, I was called by the school Principal to discuss him. There was nothing to discuss. Dhendup had made up his mind to do something else than going to school. I called his family and let them know that the Principal had called me to discuss him. Dhendup’s family were my family friends and we were quite close. I had known Dhendup from the day he was born.
On the way to school I met my subject of discussion. He was with a group of friends drinking some coke in one of the shops near the school. Well, coke don’t make one squint. But his eyes were squint and talked no sense. There was no point talking to him. I was happy talking to a dog sitting close by. At least the dog seemed to understand what he was told. I just got a blank look from him. So I decided to go and see the Principal instead.
Mr. Principal had many things to say but I was not interested in hearing the stories. I wanted to know what he had decided for Dhendup. They had decided to expel him from school. Expel. How can they expel him when Dhendup hardly came to school at all? His certificate also said that he had appeared Class XI Arts. It should have been " Appeared occasionally." I guess he had appeared in the class occasionally before deciding to quit.
I came back to my office, got the certificate copied and sent the original to his family through post. I forgot about him. Although I felt sad that he was messing his own life, I couldn’t even make him listen to him and let alone do what I had to say. I hung the certificate on my office wall. I don’t know why I did that.
Three years later I got a call from a police officer asking me to come and bail Dhendup out. Bail him out! I wanted to sue the Police Officer for having called me in the very first place and let alone bail Dhendup out.I called the police officer and gave him Dhendup’s home number and told him to call his family. Three hours later I got a call from Dhendup’s mother. She sounded desperate. I felt sorry for her so I decided to go to prison and see what I could do. The police wanted to release him only if I guaranteed that he would not commit crime again. He had broken the windshields of a car and had landed himself in a gangfight. I would rather guarantee that there would be rain three days later than guaranteeing Dhendup would not get into trouble. When I refused to sign any papers, the police officer didn't know what to do but he didn’t insist on signing it. He advised me to send him for rehabilitation. That was a great idea. I talked to his family and they all agreed to help him. For three days that he stayed with me, he slept whole day and watched movies whole night. That was bearable so long he did not get into trouble. He left for home and I never saw him after that.
Some two years later. I read that a man had died of overdose outside his hotel room in Phuntsholing. Police had found a body inside the drain. There was no name mentioned in the newspaper. Later I found from my family that it was Dhendup whom they had covered in the newspaper. What a poor way to live and die!!!
I often feel cold when I hear of such deaths. I feel bad that they should live a terrible life and die miserable death but the truth is that there are many young people dying everyday of drugs overdose in Bhutan. I don't even know if they deserved to be wept for. Probably they never deserve the tears.


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