A Tipsy Irony (based on a real encounter)

 A Tipsy Irony (based on a real encounter that happened on 8th May 2021 above Tashichhodzong)

By: Tshering Cigay

Last Saturday at around 11 am, I was travelling in my brother’s car when a man walking unsteadily by the roadside waved his hand at us for a ride.

Brother: Where do you want to go?

Man: Can you take me to the city bus stand in the middle of town?

Brother: Okay. Get in.

As he got in, smell of ingested alcohol filled the car. His face was swelly, hair unkempt and limbs sagging without much energy.

“She is now gone. Gone forever!” he murmured to himself as he lunged his body into the back seat of the car.

“Who is she? And what happened?” we enquired.

“She was my cousin’s wife. She died. I am just returning from the cremation ground. We told her many times, but she wouldn’t stop drinking. She killed herself by drinking too much.” He spoke in drunken tones.

Picture of drunk man above: Courtesy of dendupgonpo.blogspot.com

We asked how old she was. He said she was born in the year of ox.

“Then she must have been 48 this year,” I said.

He said that must be right. We then asked him how old he was and what he did for a living.

“I work as cook for the monks in a monastery which is about half day’s walk from Thimphu. I came down today for her cremation. I live by myself now, but I have a daughter who is married with an army personnel. ”

“How old are you?”

“I was born in the year of dragon”

“Are you about 45 then?”

“Maybe. I must have crossed 40”. He said. But he looked to be in his mid 50s. It was either that he didn’t keep track of his age, or that the alcohol had hastened his ageing process.

“Why do you want to go to the bus stand? Are you going to catch a bus to somewhere?” we asked.

“No, I am not going to catch a bus. I have to go there to refuel myself (ma-khu tsuba jogobay). I can’t bear to stay without refuelling myself (makhu matsuba de mi tshubay)”, he said meaning he is going there to drink in a bar.

What an irony. He felt sorry for the relative who had just died from drinking too much alcohol. Yet, he was not bothered about his own health and life.

“Oh, you better take care of yourself. You just said you just returned from the cremation of your relative who died by drinking too much. You may follow the same path after her if you don’t control your drinking,” we told him.

“I only drink white one. She used to drink the red one – that too without mixing any water,” said he as we dropped him in the town.

I gazed after him as he disappeared wobbly into the small bystreets of Thimphu.

And I thought to myself, “There goes another potential victim of alcohol liver disease (ALD), one of the top causes of death in Bhutan for the past many years. Yet, not doing much about it remains one of the biggest ironies in our country.”